CHAPTER ELEVEN
The rest of the game pushed all thoughts of a private celebration to the back of Bristol’s mind. Beau’s new lineup seemed to unlock the hidden potential of every player. And by the final buzzer, Violet had scored a second goal, and on her final sprint up the ice, passed the puck to Noah for his first goal.
It was pandemonium in the Bears section.
“Listen,” Beau said, suddenly serious as parents—whose only hockey season excitement to date had been the time Tucker had fallen down and gotten so tangled in the goal’s net that someone had to break out the scissors—celebrated the thrill of victory. “I need to talk to you about something before… before.”
If he told her he was married, she was going to kill him with an ice skate.
“Mo-o-om!” Violet jumped into Bristol’s arms, nearly toppling her over. “Did you see?”
Bristol lost track of Beau as the team and parents met in a celebratory lump, clogging the aisles and stairs. While she chatted with all of the cowardly parents who had turned down the coaching spot, she heard someone calling Beau’s name. She watched Beau approach a boy from the other team and his parents.
The boy looked like he was staring at Santa on Christmas Eve as he reverently held up a piece of paper to Beau. She saw Beau sneak a glance around before angling his back to the crowd and taking the paper.
She was curious how he’d run into someone he knew when he was a virtual stranger in town, but her curiosity was shoved aside when her parents fought through the crowd to get to her.
Violet threw her arms around her Pops, and they began an animated discussion of just how awesome Violet and hockey were.
Mary slid her arm through Bristol’s and smiled. She wore ear warmers in a vibrant shade of purple with a matching scarf wound around her neck. “I wonder if they’re going to refreeze the ice after all the heat you and that Beau were throwing off.”
“Mother!” Bristol hissed, glancing around them.
“Honey, there’s no one in this arena who didn’t see those sparks.”
“Are we talking about Bristol and Beau?” Savannah jumped in, a soft pretzel in one hand and a coffee in the other.”
“Did you even see Violet’s goals?” Bristol glared at her sister’s smirking face.
“Just because I watched two goals does not mean I missed out on the fireworks off the ice. I saw the way he picked you up like he was going to carry you off to bed. It was hot. How long’s he in town?”
The implication was clear. Was Beau in town long enough for a roll in Bristol’s hay?
“He’s in town for a few more days, I think,” Bristol said, hoping the concrete under her feet would open up and she could escape this conversation.
“What’s he doing for Thanksgiving? He’s not spending it by himself, is he?” Mary demanded.
“I’m not sure—” Bristol began.
“Let’s ask him,” Savannah decided. She shoved her pretzel into Violet’s hands and cupped her free hand around her mouth to yell his name. When he looked up from his conversation with Justin Barnes, she motioned him over.
He made his way through the crowd to Bristol’s side, eyes wary.
“Beau, I’m Bristol’s sister Savannah, and this is our mom, Mary,” Savannah announced. “We want to know what you’re doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”
Beau eyed Bristol before answering. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“What about your sister?” Bristol asked.
“She’s spending Thanksgiving with our parents in Haiti.” The tightness around his mouth told her he wasn’t exactly thrilled about that. “But Levi and Shelby are doing up lunch at the B&B for their families. They invited me to join them if I wanted,” he continued.
“Don’t be silly,” Mary said, with a shake of her head. “You’ll have lunch with us.”
“Oh, I couldn’t impose—”
“I’m Italian. It’s my life-long wish to feed people,” Mary insisted. “You wouldn’t deny me my life-long wish, would you?”
Again, Beau’s green eyes slid to Bristol, silently begging for help.
“Vi and I would love it if you could come,” she admitted.
“And Dad will be thrilled with more testosterone,” Savannah interjected.
“Lunch is at one,” Mary said. “Plan to be there by noon.”
Beau stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Uh, how can I say no?” Bristol hid her smile, knowing the question wasn’t entirely rhetorical.
“Beau! Did you see?” Violet jumped out of her grandfather’s arms to dance around Beau.
“Two goals and an assist.” Beau offered up a high five. “To be honest, I’m not sure which I’m more proud of.”
Violet looked at her feet, her ears pink with pleasure. “I figured I already had two goals so why not let Noah take a shot?”
Bristol felt her heart swell with pride. Her kid was kind and fair and loyal. She had to be doing something right as a parent.
“You should be really proud of yourself, short stack. That’s team leadership there,” Beau told her, and Violet beamed up at him.
“Vi, Beau’s coming to Thanksgiving tomorrow,” Bristol told her daughter.
“Awesome! Hey, Dad!” Violet waved into the crowd.
Nolan Graber, decked out in a Polar Bears hoodie, grabbed up Violet in a bear hug. “Way to go, Vi-girl! You were awesome!”
Violet giggled as she struggled against his hold. “You’re crushing me, Dad!”
“Get used to it, kid. Heroes get crushed in celebration,” Nolan said, setting her down on her feet. “So guess what? Lissa got your goals on video.”
“No way!”
“Way!” Lissa beamed, balancing a sleeping Lyric on one hip.
Everyone was talking at once, but Bristol found herself focused on Beau. She knew her family situation could be hard to grasp from the outside. But she, Nolan, and Lissa had made parenting Violet their priority, and together they parented as a team.
“Beau, I’d like you to meet Nolan, Violet’s dad, and his wife, Lissa. Guys, this is Beau. He keeps rescuing me on the ice.”
Nolan offered an enthusiastic handshake. “Great to meet you, Beau. I’ve heard a lot about you around town.”
“Yeah, no one’s a stranger for long in Hope Falls,” Beau quipped.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Nolan joked.
Lissa offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet a friend of Bristol’s.”
“Dad, Beau’s coming to Thanksgiving tomorrow,” Violet announced.
“Awesome!” Nolan high-fived Bob. “More man power, right Pops Quinn?”
Bob Quinn leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t suppose you know six or seven other male yoga instructors you’d like to bring along?” Bob asked hopefully.
“Sorry, sir. Just me,” Beau laughed.
“Well, we’ll make do,” Bob said unconvincingly.
“Dad, it’s not that bad,” Bristol insisted. “Don’t scare Beau away.”
“Just how many women will be there?” Beau asked. But no one answered.
Lissa and Savannah each latched onto one of Bristol’s arms.
“If you’ll excuse us, we need to borrow Bristol for a second,” Savannah announced with her may-it-please-the-court smile.
They dragged her a few steps away.
“Girl, tell me you plan to see that man naked,” Lissa demanded, shooting an approving look over her shoulder.
Bristol covered the still-sleeping Lyric’s ears with her hands.
“Lissa,” she hissed.
“Don’t play all ‘I don’t kiss and tell’ with us,” Savannah warned her. “We’ve been one step away from signing you up for online dating for months now. If you tell me you don’t want to take his pants off, I’m driving you to the hospital and getting a neurologist to examine your head.”
Bristol threw another look over her shoulder at Beau who was engaged in conversation with her parents.
“Look, he’s coming over to my place tonight, so the sooner we wrap up this victory party and ice cream parade, the sooner I can rip off all his clothes and tell him all of the incredibly dirty things I want him to do to me!”
They stared at her with huge eyes and sky-high eyebrows. One of them started to make the high-pitched squeal that only adult women can muster, and then they were both hugging her.
“I have never loved you more than I do right now,” Lissa sighed happily.
“Thank God you’re not brain dead—” Savannah cut her own joke off mid-sentence.
“Huh,” Bristol said. “Our first brain dead joke since…”
Lissa looked hard at them both and nodded. “I think it went well.”
“I agree,” Bristol concurred.
“All right then. Let’s get you laid,” Savannah announced.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Lissa yelled, and she and Savannah began to herd the crowd toward the exit.
--------
Beau had never seen kids eat ice cream so fast. Fifty percent of the team was complaining of brain freeze, but Lissa and Savannah showed no mercy.
“Come on, guys! This is a competition! Who’s going to win?” Lissa cheered, bouncing the wide-eyed Lyric on her hip.
Coming off of a tie, apparently the team’s first non-loss of the season, the Polar Bears were charged for victory and ate with complete disregard to the side effects. He wondered how many would be puking in the car on the way home.
“Shovel it in, Dad,” Savannah prodded Bob. “You’re competing, too.”
Bristol, for her part, kept her mouth shut and flushed scarlet every time Lissa or Savannah rushed someone through their dessert.
Harry and Marlene Brooks, owners of Hope Falls’ ice cream parlor Two Scoops, enjoyed the chaotic consumption. Two Scoops was quintessential small town America with its candy striped awning outside and the white metal chairs inside. The ice cream cooler was full of all the standards and included a few dazzling options that suckered kids in with their fluorescent colors.
Beau tried to enjoy his scoop of Rocky Road, but all he could think about was his tangled up feelings for Bristol. Every time she looked at him with all the heat and the promise of pleasures to come, he lost his damn mind.
He ran through a dozen excuses for not telling her, considering and then rejecting each one. There was no getting around not telling her why he was here, why he came here looking for her.
Beau searched his memory banks for any other woman who had gotten to him like Bristol. There was no one. It wasn’t just her looks, which were stunning even at six in the morning. It was her rawness, her strength. The pain of her loss had left her vulnerable, but her resolve to keep going, to keep it together, was heroic in his eyes.
He wanted her, and he suspected that having her would only be the beginning of his infatuation with Bristol. He looked up as Violet climbed into the chair opposite him. She’d abandoned her giggling crowd of friends near the front window.
“Do you like my mom?” Violet demanded over her two scoops of cookies and cream.
“What?”
She rolled her eyes with exasperation. “My mom? Tall, pretty, bossy? Do you like her?”
“I don’t think I should be having this conversation with you,” Beau said, skirting the issue.
Violet took a deep breath and leaned over her ice cream. “I think you should think about liking her.”
“Okay. And why is that?” Beau stopped looking for an adult to rescue him from the conversation.
“She spends all her time on me or work or helping other people. But she doesn’t go out and have fun. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and I think she should have one. My dad has Lissa, and he’s real happy. But Mom’s been so sad since Aunt Hope died.”
“You think a boyfriend will make her happier?”
Violet shrugged. “She smiles a lot when she’s around you, and it’s been a long time since she’s smiled.”
The kid was stabbing him in the heart.
Violet glanced around, making sure no one else was listening in. “A couple months ago, I asked if I could spend a little more time with my dad. Since Aunt Hope’s gone, Mom’s all alone when I’m not there, and I thought if she had some more time to herself she’d finally start to, like, date or something,” Violet confessed.
“That’s why you asked to spend more time with your dad?”
Violet nodded earnestly. “I don’t think it’s working though. She just does more work or helps people do stuff. She babysits for my dad and step-mom so they can go out,” she leaned in. “I’m eight, but even I know that’s weird.”
“Your mom is a very giving person,” Beau said carefully.
“Yeah, but when’s she gonna start taking? You can’t just spend your whole life giving and not taking anything for yourself, right?”
Beau stared at the dimpled cherub in her oversized hockey jersey for a beat. “You’re a really wise kid, you know that?”
“Duh.” Violet sighed and settled her chin in her hands. “I just want her to be happy. I mean she’s my mom, you know? And she’s not happy.”
A single, fat tear worked its way out of the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.
“Oh, shit—I mean shoot,” Beau scrambled for the stack of napkins on the table. “Don’t do that. Don’t cry.”
She sniffled pitifully. “Did you ever love someone a whole lot, and seeing them sad makes your life sad?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It sucks.”
“It does suck!” Violet agreed. “So, I was thinking if you like my mom maybe you guys could date or get married. I think you’re cool, and I think my mom does too.”
“You think so?”
“She gets this big, goofy smile, and this tone like ‘Beau is so helpful’,” Violet said, nailing the impression of her mother.
“I don’t know, short stack,” he said, spooning up the last bit of ice cream. “I like your mom a lot, but my life is back in Chicago.”
“Can’t you bring your life here?” she asked hopefully. Hope Falls is awesome, and Grammy and Pops are here, and maybe Dad and Lissa could babysit me while you and Mom go to the movies? Or maybe I could go with you guys?”
The mind of an eight-year-old, Beau thought. The girl was a wonder.
“It’s a lot to think about,” he confessed.
Violet nodded. “I understand. You should take some time to consider and maybe get some more ice cream.” She looked pointedly at where he was currently trying to scrape his spoon through the empty bowl.
Well, shit. He was head over heels for Bristol, and now he’d fallen hard for Violet. What the hell was he going to do? It wasn’t like he could just pick up his life and move it here. Could he?