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  A ragtag group of people filled both sides of the court, varying in height but not ability. They went all out, and the guys showed no mercy on the girls. Or the girls on the guys, he thought as a girl who had to be six foot three slammed a spike down with such force, the guy playing back row in the path of the ball dove away from it.

  That was Zane’s kind of game, and he had no shame in admitting it.

  The girl whooped and turned, punching a fist in the air and slapping hands with her teammates.

  A brunette with killer legs and a perfectly fitted workout tank gave her double high fives, then slipped an arm around her back as they walked over to get water, the set apparently over now. There was no mistaking Mara among this crowd, and her smile was infectious. Then she laughed, tossing her head back, the sound carrying in the open gym.

  Zane’s chest tightened at the sight of her, the sound of her, but his lips curved in helpless delight.

  She looked towards the door as she reached for her water and froze, her eyes going wide.

  He entered the gym, eyes on her, and smiled as though she weren’t stunned to see him. “Hi.”

  Slowly, Mara straightened. “Zane? What are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d come and play some volleyball,” he offered as he neared her. “You said this is what you do for fun, and I wanted to have fun with you. Is that okay?”

  Her mouth worked on an answer she couldn’t seem to form, though the others in the room were suddenly very interested in what was going on between them. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Yeesh . . . He grimaced a little. “Too much? Sorry, I can go if you’d rather . . .”

  “No!” she said quickly, stepping towards him. “No, not like that. It’s just that . . .” She came closer, dropping her voice. “You shouldn’t be playing volleyball right now. You’re in season, you could hurt yourself.”

  Zane gave her a crooked smile, the tightness in his chest easing significantly now that he was close to her, and now that she didn’t object to his coming. “Why don’t you let me worry about hurting myself?”

  She frowned at him. “You have a game tomorrow! What are you going to tell your coaches if you sprain an ankle?”

  “If you think a fun game of volleyball is going to hurt me enough to keep me from the ice,” he told her firmly, “you’ve got another thing coming.” He quirked a brow, then took his phone and keys from his pocket, setting it down by her stuff. “You gonna introduce me, or should I do the honors?”

  Mara started to smile, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “Not the first one to notice, babe.” He winked and turned to the others. “Hey, y’all. My name’s Zane, and I call permanent spot on whatever team Mara’s on.”

  Every girl in the room oohed suggestively at his claim while the guys nodded in appreciation, which said everything that needed to be said about men and women.

  A choking sound behind him made Zane look over his shoulder.

  Mara’s cheeks were flushed, but her smile was in place as she stared back at him.

  “What?” he asked unapologetically.

  “You’re the sweetest crazy person I know,” she replied, the curve of her smile warming him from the inside out. “Even when you embarrass me.”

  He tossed a playful grin at her. “Nothing embarrassing about staking my claim. Come on, let’s show this crowd what we’ve got.”

  Mara tilted her head, one hand propping on her perfectly trim hip. “You don’t know how I play.”

  There were several answers he could have given, but he settled for holding a hand out to her. “So show me what you’ve got, Matthews. I’m a fan of those legs already, but I’m willing to like them more.”

  “Very generous,” she retorted as she took his hand and let him pull her onto the court.

  “Yes, they are,” he murmured softly, his mouth close to her ear as they moved into place.

  She whirled and held a finger out at him, her color still high, laughing almost breathlessly. “Huh-uh. None of that, mister. We mean business on this court.”

  “What?” He gestured helplessly, looking around. “I can flirt and play seriously at the same time. It’s called multitasking, right?” He turned to the woman playing back row behind him. “Am I right?”

  The woman shrugged and grinned wickedly at Mara. “I think so. Go for it. Anything to keep Mara on her toes is fair game.”

  “Traitor.” Mara made a face at her, then turned back to the net, raising her hands in position. She glanced over at Zane, smiling again. “Hey.”

  He matched her pose and smiled back. “Hey what?”

  She bit her lip slightly, and his knees almost buckled. “I missed you.”

  It was a good thing the other team served the ball at that moment, or he would have marched over to that woman and carried her from the court to kiss her senseless. Fortunately for everyone in the room, his competitive side kicked into gear, and he was only lightheaded for the first three points.

  That the other team scored.

  Not okay.

  “That was low,” Zane muttered as he watched the server through the net.

  Mara laughed from his left. “What was?”

  “You can’t say something like that to a guy when he can’t reciprocate,” he informed her, watching as the ball soared over them to their back row. “It’s rude.”

  “It’s strategic,” Mara corrected him as she set the ball beautifully to the guy on the far left of their court.

  Zane grunted as the other team returned the hit, now setting up their attack. “How’s that?”

  All business, she followed the play opposite them, coming right to his side. “Well . . .” She paused as they jumped as one to block the ball, the defensive specialist digging it nicely. “You’re good at making me flustered. Time for payback.”

  “Oh.” They turned slightly as the ball came back over the net, their back row sending it up to them. “Just one problem.”

  Mara set him the ball, again beautifully. “Yeah?”

  He nodded as he jumped, spiking the ball hard to the opposite side of the net, without any answer. Their team cheered and slapped hands, which he took, but he looked at Mara only. “I’m competitive. You just cranked up the game.”

  Her eyes widened, and her smile turned a little shaky, but she was laughing through it. “Uh-oh.”

  “Game on, Matthews,” he replied, turning back to face the net, smiling at no one in particular as their team served for the first time that match.

  Driven by more than just their team’s score, Zane and Mara both played with more energy, and Zane, for one, was elated to discover that Mara’s competitive drive rivaled his own. She was completely in every play, sacrificing her body as she dove for balls and not backing down from any chance she could get to block or spike. She wasn’t the tallest woman on the court, and certainly most of the guys were taller than her, but she was a fierce player. And she had the most wicked serve he had ever seen, and it took the other team at least five serves to figure out how to answer it.

  It did need to be stated that Mara was way more sportsmanlike than Zane, though, which was probably the biggest difference in all this.

  But when he was playing beside her, he was way more sportsmanlike too.

  Didn’t stop him from excessive celebration when his team made a kill or when someone made a particularly spectacular play, but he wasn’t yelling at anyone either.

  Little things.

  His team didn’t seem to mind his enthusiasm, though. On the contrary; they were right along with him, high fives, chest bumps, picking each other up, and all.

  Well, maybe he was the only one picking anyone up, and maybe it was just Mara, but no one seemed to mind.

  Least of all Mara.

  They’d won the first match and were now hard into the second, hovering at match point as they had been for at least three serves. The other team had come back in a big way already, the momentum squarely in their favor. His team had m
anaged to get the last point, the ball now on their side, and Zane wasn’t about to let this go to a third match that may never be settled, in his mind. One glance at the clock on the wall told him that they didn’t have enough time to finish a third, even if they started it, and who knew when he’d be able to get back over here on a Monday to finish it out?

  “Here we go, Brady,” he chanted, clapping his hands, keeping his attention forward as Brady prepared to serve behind him.

  Zane heard Mara exhale slowly beside him, and he felt his lungs release air in response. He glanced over to see her bent over, jaw set, swaying slightly on her poised feet, eyes on the players opposite them. She was ready.

  And she was gorgeous. Powerful and captivating, the sort of woman he’d always admired and yet had never fallen for.

  His brows shot up as the thought flashed in his mind, and he returned his attention to the game.

  Fallen? That was going a bit far, considering they weren’t even dating. Not really. They were just . . . they were . . .

  What? What were they, and what were they doing?

  Brady served the ball then, and Zane shook away the distracting thoughts of Mara. Clean dig, going up for a set, and then . . .

  “TIP!” he shouted to his team.

  But Mara was there, already dropped to her knees to set the ball up and away from the floor.

  “Here!” Kath called from behind her, setting beautifully over to Zane.

  He was already in the air before it got to him, and he swung back, connecting with the ball in perfect time, sending it screaming to the court, right between two defenders.

  “RAH!” he bellowed in victory, clenching his fists and turning to his team. “Yeah!”

  Mara whooped loudly, holding her splayed hands out, her face wreathed in elation. She slapped hands with Kath hard, then turned to Zane, stunning him by jumping into his arms. He caught her easily, his arms going around her midriff and spinning her around once as they cheered.

  “Yeah, baby!” Mara exclaimed as she clung to him. “Woo!”

  Their team swarmed them, jumping up and down, slapping hands and backs, their praises almost unintelligible in the melee. Somehow, Mara was pried from his hold, though one of his arms managed to stay clamped around her waist.

  He’d like to see someone try to get her away from him completely right now.

  “That dig, Mars!” Brady was saying, giving her a high five. “Killer.”

  “Did you see flying monkey man over here?” Kath retorted, jerking a thumb at Zane. “I think the earth moved with that hit.”

  “More like a flying Zamboni,” Mara said with a laugh.

  The group froze and looked at her for a moment. Zane bit back a grin, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “No . . . way . . .” one of the guys from the other side said, coming over to the net for a better look.

  “Whoops,” Mara muttered beside Zane. “Sorry . . .”

  Zane squeezed her closer. “No worries. I don’t mind.”

  “Zamboni?” another guy said, ducking under the net. “The Zamboni? Seriously?”

  Zane gestured helplessly and grinned. “Guilty as charged. What’s up?”

  At least three guys came over and shook his hand, and the women looked him over with new appreciation.

  “I had no idea, man,” someone was saying. “Absolutely killer game. You’re a beast.”

  “Thanks, you’re not a bad player yourself.”

  “You’re . . . you’re coming back, right?” the first one said. “To play again?”

  Zane shrugged but smiled easily. “In season is a bit rough, schedule-wise, so I don’t know. Out of season, though . . .” He nodded slowly. “I own you, bro.”

  Brady barked a laugh and slapped Zane’s hand over the heads of the group. “Man, I don’t care what anyone says, I call forever teammate whenever you show up.”

  Zane grinned at him and nodded. “You got it.”

  “We can’t all be with Zane every time,” Mara chortled, giving her friend a sardonic look. “Come on.”

  “Some people can,” he murmured for her alone, his arm around her waist tightening with his meaning.

  Her throat worked at that, and he smiled at seeing it, smug satisfaction hitting him at how she stiffened beneath his hand. But she wasn’t moving away. At all.

  Game, set, match.

  Patting her waist softly, Zane looked over at the other court. “We done, guys?”

  One of the guys over there picked up a white towel and waved it in the air. “Uncle.”

  “Oh, please,” Kath snorted. “Those were the best two sets we’ve had in a long time.”

  “Truth,” Mara agreed with a nod, shifting her weight to actually lean further into Zane, folding her arms.

  Now he was the one swallowing.

  “Ice cream?” Mara asked of the group. “Anyone?”

  There were quite a few headshakes and denials, and a jolt of excitement shot down Zane’s left leg.

  “I’m in,” he murmured.

  Mara looked up at him, her lips curving to one side. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  He shrugged and walked with her to their stuff, sliding his hand away from her waist but keeping contact as long as he could.

  He heard her clear her throat as she picked up her bottle of water and purse. “Okay, y’all, see you next week!”

  They called out their farewells, and Mara turned to Zane. “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded. “You?”

  “One thing.” He tossed his arm around her shoulder and held his phone up, camera on. “Smile!”

  She did so, holding two thumbs up, then laughing at the photo. “What are you going to do with that?”

  He dropped his arm and pressed a few buttons on his phone, shooting the pic off to the Pit. “Nothing. Some people need to see this.”

  “Do they? Hmm.” She shook her head and started walking for the door with him.

  Sliding his phone into his pocket, he glanced at her. “So where do you get ice cream around here?”

  “Usually Benny’s.” She shrugged and grinned up at him. “But if it’s just us, it doesn’t matter.”

  He returned her grin. “Not really, no.” Holding his breath, he swung his hand out to take hers, then waited as they walked.

  She laced her fingers with his automatically, and again came the sensation that his knees were no longer in place.

  And there went the loopy grin again.

  Fallen, his mind said again.

  It was certainly something to consider at this point, though it seemed ridiculously fast.

  But Mara wasn’t Michelle. He’d known her for a number of days, but he’d known Michelle for years before they married and would never have suspected how that would go.

  No telling where this would lead.

  He only knew where he’d like it to lead, and at this moment, that was ice cream.

  Or anywhere, so long as it was with Mara.

  They stepped outside only to find rain pouring down. He swore softly and made a face, while Mara only laughed and started running for it.

  “Where are you going?” he called, chasing after her.

  “My car, duh,” she yelled back. “I got front-row parking tonight!”

  He followed, starting to laugh just as she was, the rain pounding down on them with more power than they usually saw in February. He continued to laugh until they finally reached her silver car.

  “Anytime now would be great,” he commented ruefully from the passenger door.

  “Not helping,” she hollered back.

  Finally she had unlocked the door, both of them scrambling in out of the rain.

  Zane laughed as he slammed his door shut. “That was a riot.”

  “The rain or the game?” Mara asked, shoving her purse behind her seat, breathless from their run.

  “Both.” He leaned his head back against the seat with a sigh. “You wouldn’t believe how good it feels to get out and do something
that isn’t related to hockey or my daughter.” He rolled his head on the headrest to look at her. “Don’t get me wrong, Hope is my everything.”

  “I know,” Mara told him quietly, her gentle smile putting him at ease. “I can see that.”

  He returned the smile, startled by how comfortable it felt to sit in a car with Mara and talk. “But this is just nice.”

  She nodded slowly. “It really is.”

  “How was your day?” he asked, settling into his seat as though it were an easy chair.

  Mara snorted softly. “Typical. Patients were fine, and the office was a minefield.”

  That surprised him, and he watched Mara more closely. “How so?”

  She leaned back against her seat, shaking her head and wetting her lips. “I work with the greatest doctor ever. Good with patients, amazing at his job, efficient enough to keep a good flow, never gets stressed out. He’s incredible.”

  “What’s the problem?” Zane asked, feeling lost.

  “Our office lead,” Mara all but spat. “Susan. She’s not our boss, but she thinks she is. Threatens to write us up if we don’t do what she wants. Sends passive-aggressive emails to the whole office instead of coming directly to anyone. Has favorites in the department.” A bitter smile crossed Mara’s perfect lips. “She doesn’t like my doctor. Or me.”

  A sudden burst of fury lit up Zane’s chest, and he all but growled, “Why?”

  Mara looked at him, brow raised. “We don’t do things her way. Simple as that. She’d get rid of both of us, our entire team, and at least six others. Likes to pit people against anyone not on her good list.”

  “How did Susan get in a position of any authority?” Zane demanded in disgust.

  “She knows everyone.” Mara shrugged, seeming almost defeated now, which Zane hated immediately. “No one believes our complaints.”

  Zane shook his head in disbelief. “Why do you stay, Mara?”

  “My doctor. And waiting for an opening in the ER to transfer.” Then she smiled almost sheepishly. “And I don’t want to give Susan the satisfaction of getting rid of me.”

  “Atta girl!” Zane laughed. “This is why I play hockey. I can hit people who make my life crap.”