CHAPTER FIVE
“What’s this about you and some hot guy named Beau saving lives and having breakfast together?”
“Well hello to you, too, Vanna,” Bristol said dryly into her phone. She held up the sweater in front of her and frowned in the mirror.
“I’m serious. The entire town is talking about you. Your name came up in a staff meeting this morning,” Savannah said.
Bristol tossed the sweater on top of the growing pile of discarded clothes on her bed. “You lawyers are so funny. Always cracking jokes.”
“Swear to God,” Savannah insisted. “I don’t know if everyone’s more excited about you saving Coach Tubs’ life or having a hot guy chasing you around town.”
“He’s not chasing me,” Bristol grumbled, reaching for a red turtleneck. “He just happened to be at Vi’s game and basically saved Fred’s life. Then I ran into him later that night when I was skating.”
“Hold it. Why were you skating?” her sister demanded, zeroing in on the answer like a trial lawyer picking apart witnesses.
“Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m the Polar Bears’ new hockey coach.”
The peal of laughter on her sister’s end had Bristol yanking the phone away from her ear and then pulling it back when she realized how long it had been since she’d heard Savannah laugh like that.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Bristol said dryly.
“You can’t even skate. You don’t even know what the penalty box is!”
“I know that! But every other parent on the team flat out refused to take over, and without a coach, their season would be over, and Vi would be devastated.”
“Why can’t Nolan coach her? He’s Mr. Outdoorsy.”
“No, he’s Mr. Outdoorsy Sales Guy,” Bristol corrected her. “There’s a huge difference. Plus he’s traveling a lot right now. He’s hitting up a bunch of snowboarding competitions for work. Anyway, Beau is teaching me to skate and giving me some hockey pointers. I can do this. It’s only until Christmas.”
“Uh-huh. Well you can be sure that I’m coming to the next game.”
“I’m going to pretend that you’re showing up to support Violet, not laugh at me.”
“I can multitask.”
“Don’t you have a wedding to plan?”
“I’m a Type A attorney. The wedding has been planned down to the napkin rings since about six seconds after Vince put a ring on it.”
“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” Bristol teased.
“Stop deflecting. And tell me more about this Beau guy. Rumor has it he’s gorgeous.”
It had been a hundred years since she’d gossiped about boys with her sisters. She felt rusty but good.
“Let’s just say the rumors, for once, aren’t completely overblown. He’s big. Tall, broad shoulders, muscles. And he has these bright green eyes that look like they’re looking right into you. Did I mention he’s got a beard?”
“He sounds very lumbersexual,” Savannah sighed.
“I haven’t seen him in a flannel yet. I honestly can’t get a read on him. He’s funny and smart. But every time I talk to him, I go into the conversation determined to find out more about it. And then I get dazzled by his smile or his butt, and I walk away with more questions than answers.”
“If I weren’t a cold-hearted bitch, I’d say you’ve got quite the crush.”
“And since you are a cold-hearted bitch?”
“I’d say you’re lusting after a hot guy. When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Savannah Quinn!”
“What? Just because you’re a mom doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to see any action. In fact, you should be contractually obligated to have hot sex every once in a while.”
“I’m not a nun!” Though it had been a while… quite a while. “Quick question, totally unrelated. How long can you go without sex before you’re a virgin again? Asking for a friend.”
Savannah laughed again, and Bristol let the sound light up the dim corners of her heart.
“Take some advice from your legal counsel. Go get laid. Enjoy it. And then go back to momming and businessing.”
“Does Vince know what a lucky man he is?” Bristol asked.
“I remind him a dozen times a day. Sooner or later it’ll stick. But seriously, it’s nice to see you feeling something.”
“Back at you,” Bristol sighed. The whole family had been numb for so long, the past twenty-four hours had felt like a bit of a thaw. “It’s nice to hear you laugh.”
“Yeah, well. If we’re not laughing, we’re crying. And I’m sick of crying.”
“Hey, do you want to come over and get super drunk on Black Friday?” Bristol asked. It had been their own holiday tradition since they were both of drinking age. Violet would be traveling with Nolan and Lissa to Lissa’s parents’ house for their family celebration, and without Hope, the apartment would feel too empty.
“That depends. Can we steal desserts out of Early Bird’s bakery case and watch Christmas movies?” Savannah asked.
“Duh. It’s tradition.”
“Count me in.”
The clock on her nightstand caught Bristol’s eye. “Crap. I have to go. Beau’s picking me up in ten, and I’m not dressed yet.”
“Consider staying that way and forgoing the skating lessons,” her sister suggested.
“How about I get to know him first and make sure he’s not an insane axe murderer?”
Savannah sighed heavily. “Fine. Send me some proofs of life tonight so I can make sure you’re not dead. Unless you’re having sex. Don’t send me any of those selfies.”
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The only acknowledgement of her sister’s advice was the pretty bra Bristol hooked on under her sweater. She went with a black ribbed turtleneck and gray and black striped fleece leggings that made her butt look pretty damn great. She finished the look with a wool cap and a warm down-filled vest, both in fire engine red.
She’d touched up the morning’s makeup and added a thick layer of lip-gloss to ward off the winter wind.
Her phone sounded an alert, and she saw a text from Beau.
I’m downstairs. Want me to come up?
She thought about her sister’s suggestion for alternative evening plans, grabbed her bag, and sprinted for the stairs.
On my way down.
She’d never brought a man into the apartment she shared with her daughter. It seemed… weird. The men she had dated since her divorce had remained neatly compartmentalized in the tiny sliver of life she dedicated to her own free time. It was safer that way, less messy.
She pushed through the glass door next to Early Bird’s entrance. Beau was leaning against a dark blue SUV, his hands shoved in the pockets of his heavy jacket. He was studying her with an unreadable look that had her slowing her approach.
“What?” She glanced down at her outfit, fearing that she’d forgotten to put on the pants she’d picked out.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just… hi.”
“Am I dressed okay?” she asked.
“You look great,” he said. “I mean you look warm.”
“Are you nervous?” she demanded, cocking her head to one side.
He scratched the back of his head with a gloved hand. “Of course not. What’s to be nervous about?”
“Spending time alone with me in the dark. Maybe you’re a vampire, and you won’t be able to control your thirst for human blood?”
“So I’m now an undead murderer?”
At least he was smiling.
“The evening is young,” Bristol shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”
He opened the passenger door for her and leaned in close when she slid onto the seat. “Good thing you wore a turtleneck,” he winked, flashing her his teeth.
Bristol was pleasantly surprised to find that her seat warmer was already on. Funny, sexy, and thoughtful? Maybe Savannah had the right idea after all. But as a respectable adult, Bristol had a responsibility to learn a few things about Mr. Beau French before she even considered taking his pants off.