Mark knelt beside him on one knee. “Just keep stil and let Scott do his job.”
Sam shook his head and gritted his teeth against the pain of that simple act. “My kid’s here. I don’t want him to see me laid out on the ice.” And there was no way he’d let the bastards see how bad he was hurt. “Scott can do his job in the trainer’s room.” With his right hand, he pushed himself into sitting position. It hurt more than he let on. The last thing he wanted was to be taken out on the stretcher. Scott wedged his shoulder beneath Sam’s right arm, and he was able to rise to his knees.
Fuck! Shit! Goddamn!
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Son of a bitch! He rose to his feet, and the arena went crazy with applause. Slowly, he skated toward the bench, his left arm tight against his chest. He was in so much pain, it crowded the corners of his vision. But more than the pain, he was pissed. Pissed that a piss-headed pissant had blindsided him. Pissed that he was going to miss a month—if he was lucky. Pissed that it had happened in front of his son.
Chapter Ten
Any Man of Mine:
Doesn’t Have Other Girlfriends
(especially skinny girlfriends)
Conner dropped Autumn’s fingers and pushed the elevator button. In his free hand, he held a little box with a cupcake inside. A brown cupcake with gummy worms and chocolate sprinkles that they’d made that morning and Conner had decorated himself. The door slid shut, and the two rode the elevator to the loft on the tenth floor. It was a little after ten in the morning. Normal y, Conner would be in school, but after last night, he needed to see his father.
It had been wel after one in the morning before he’d final y cried himself to sleep. He’d been so sure that Sam was dying. “They took him away in the amb-amb-lance,” he’d sobbed.
“That’s just because it’s more comfortable,” she’d lied in an effort to soothe him. Shortly after Sam had skated from the ice, someone from the Chinooks’ organization had found Autumn and Conner and told them that Sam was being transported to Harborview for tests and X-rays.
“I don’t thi-ink so, Mom.”
Conner was getting older and harder to trick, and those moments as they’d watched Sam laid out on the ice had been horrific for Conner. He’d burst into panicky tears, and Autumn had to admit that, even though she’d wished Sam harm on many occasions, the reality had given her a knot in her stomach.
“I want to go see my da-ad.”
“I’l take you to see him in the morning,” she’d promised, even though hanging out at Sam’s was about the last thing she wanted to do. The elevator opened, and they walked down a short hal . “Remember that we’re not staying long. Just long enough for you to see that your dad’s okay.” Conner rang the doorbel , and within a few short moments, Faith Savage answered, looking tal and gorgeous and pregnant. Autumn didn’t know who was more surprised. Her or the owner of the Chinooks.
“Wel , hel o, Autumn. You know Sam?”
“Yes. We have a son together.”
“I didn’t know that.” She lowered her gaze to Conner’s blond hair.
“Not many people do.” She put her hand on her son’s head. “Say hel o to Mrs. Savage.”
“Hi.” Conner leaned to the left for a better peek into the loft. “How are you?”
Faith smiled. “I’m wel . Thank you.” She stepped to one side, and Conner shot past her.
“Dad!”
Autumn moved into the entry and shut the door behind her. “How is Sam?”
“Cranky.” Faith looked over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Obviously, she didn’t know her and Sam’s relationship. “How are you feeling?” she asked Faith, as they moved into a living room fil ed with overstuffed leather furniture, a huge entertainment center, and a wal of windows looking out onto the city. The whole space was open and fil ed with expensive furnishings and art. Just the sort of bachelor pad she would expect of Sam.
“Good now. The first three months were a little rough. I just can’t imagine how horrible it must be for those poor women who are sick the entire nine months.”
Autumn laughed and raised her hand. “I was one of those women, and it was horrible.” She unzipped her black fleece jacket as the two moved to the open kitchen, where Sam and Conner stood at the counter. “Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”
“Not yet. We’ve only had the first ultrasound.”
“Oh. I remember that one. Conner looked like a chicken nugget.” She laughed. “That’s why we cal him Nugget.”