“HOW’S YOUR GRANDMA?” Babs asked as soon as I walked into the locker room the next morning. One thing about our captain—he could always be counted on to remember the little details about the rest of us.
Granted, Grandma wasn’t exactly a small detail in my life. And I supposed I had been gone for a couple of weeks, so the boys were bound to notice my absence, even if it was only because the room was a lot quieter without me or something. Still, I doubted many of the other guys would know or care why I’d been gone for so long. They probably just appreciated the fact that I hadn’t been doing naked yoga in front of them for a while.
Shrugging, I solemnly shook my head. I couldn’t put words to any of it. Not yet. My throat swelled closed just thinking about how she was when I’d left her. My tongue got so thick I couldn’t swallow. The fact that I probably wouldn’t ever see her in person again—or at least not until I returned to bury her—just about did me in every time I allowed my mind to go there.
If I was lucky, the doctors might be able to give me enough warning that I could tell her I loved her one final time. But I knew better than to count on it, living all the way across the country and potentially being on the road with the team whenever the time came.
I wasn’t counting on being lucky. Luck had never been on my side before.
Babs slapped me on the back in commiseration, which was about as much emotion as I was willing to accept from anyone just now, and we both headed out to the ice for practice.
And it was one hell of a doozy. This morning’s practice kicked my ass, and it wasn’t just because I hadn’t been getting in any kind of decent workouts while I’d been on the other coast, either. Sitting by Grandma’s bed and having wet dreams with Bea sleeping so close to me was about all the physical activity I’d managed to get in while I was gone, and that clearly wasn’t enough. My first game back was going to be brutal.
Not only that, but Bergy seemed determined to kick all our asses from here into next week.
Turned out that the boys had gone on a week-long losing streak just before my return. I should’ve been paying more attention to the scores, but frankly, hockey and my teammates had been the last things on my mind. In my absence, they’d dropped four straight games—all but one of them against divisional opponents, no less, and only one resulted in any points in the standings due to reaching overtime—and now we’d fallen from first place to fourth in the Pacific Division.
We were only holding on to a playoff spot by the skin of our teeth.
Yeah, there were still several months to go before the playoffs started, but gaining ground in this league was hard, even though losing ground could be surprisingly easy. My team had just proven the latter.
The skid couldn’t continue. It had to end, and it had to end now.
By the time we finally hit the showers after practice, almost every guy on the team was huffing for oxygen and dripping buckets of sweat. At least it wasn’t just me—although my exhaustion went well beyond that of the others, due to my lack of activity.
My linemates, at least, seemed happy to have me back in the thick of things.
“Coop is good,” Luddy said, jumping under the shower spray in the stall next to me. “And he’s getting better. But he’s not you.”
“Thought that might be a good thing,” I shot back. “Change of pace. Keep things interesting.”
“So did I.” He grinned.
“Don’t tell me you missed me.”
“Only on the ice, man. Only on the ice.”
When I came out of the showers, Burnzie popped my ass with a wet, rolled-up towel.
“The fuck was that for?” I demanded, rounding on him, ready to lash out. My nerves were already frayed, and Burnzie poking the bear didn’t help matters any.
“Brie wants to know how the photo shoot went.”
“Photo shoot?” Babs asked, looking up from putting on his shoes, and about half a dozen of our other teammates leaned in to find out what was going on.
“Fine,” I hedged.
“Is Bea okay with Brie seeing them?”
“Bea?” Harry said, slowing down on his way past us to his own stall. He finished drying off his insanely red hair and tossed his towel in a waiting laundry cart.
Well, hell. This wasn’t supposed to be happening just yet. I wasn’t sure if she’d be willing for the entire team to know we were an item. But we were an item—weren’t we? Pretty sure we were. So they’d all find out eventually, including Dani Williams.
Might as well happen now, I supposed.
“Dani’s Bea?” he continued. “The same one from—”
“Yes, the same Bea,” I cut in.
“What kind of photo shoot?” Hammer asked on his way to the trainers’ room.
“The kind that you’ll never get to see evidence of,” I shot back, and half the guys snorted in laughter.
“But Brie can, right?” Burnzie asked. “She’s been bugging me about it ever since you first hit her up for ideas. ‘When’s he going to be back? When do I get to meet his girlfriend? When is he going to show us the pictures? We need to make plans for the WAGs shoot if we’re going to do it.’ I don’t even know what this fucking WAGs shoot she’s talking about is, but she won’t stop pestering me about these pictures.”
And I probably wasn’t the right guy to fill him in on any of that, either.
“I need to double-check with Bea to be sure she’s okay with it, but probably.”
Grayson Kowalski piped up with, “Who the fuck is this Bea chick, anyway?” as he headed for the showers. Gray was new to the team this season—a late signing. He’d only joined the team about ten games into the season, to fill a hole we still hadn’t filled. Lower-line winger.
I wasn’t sure he’d be lasting long with us. Didn’t seem to gel with the rest of the guys. He might even be a worse fit than me, which was saying something.
There’d been a part of me hoping that they’d bring Luke Weber in, instead. The kid had practiced with us before training camp had started. No one else had signed him. Maybe he wasn’t quite as skilled as Gray, but his attitude was a hell of a lot better. Sometimes, attitude was more important.
I didn’t want to think about that too much, though, because my own attitude was easily as obnoxious as Gray’s. Maybe even more so. But my teammates were willing to put up with me because I produced on the ice.
The only thing Gray had been producing so far was a bunch of time spent in the penalty box. I tended to spend more than my fair share of time in the sin bin, too, but at least I added a goal or assist more games than not. Plus, the coaches relied on me in the face-off circle more than anyone but Riley Jezek.
“Someone you’ll never get to meet if you keep acting like a fucking douchecanoe,” I finally replied.
“I’m not the douchecanoe who abandoned his teammates for a couple of weeks,” Gray shot back. “Right in the middle of the fucking season, with the playoffs on the line.”
The urge to rip the guy a new asshole nearly overwhelmed me, but Bergy walked into the room just then. I couldn’t afford to do anything else that might land me in his doghouse. I bit my tongue and threw on my clothes, wanting to get the fuck away from Gray before I did something else I’d regret.
“Kowalski,” Bergy grumbled in a menacing tone. He stood near the entry to the showers, arms crossed, with a glare permanently etched into his features.
Shocked that he wasn’t griping at me, I ducked my head and tried to pretend I wasn’t interested.
“Coach?” Gray replied.
“You have a problem with your teammate taking care of his family?”
Gray tried to answer, but Bergy cut him off before he could get a word out.
“I’ll be sure to remember that when your wife goes into labor. She can handle delivering twins without your help, right?”
Gray mumbled something that no one could make out, and then he headed for his own stall and left me alone.
I caught Bergy’s eye and gave him a nod of thanks.
He glared for a moment, then gave a brisk jerk of his head and left the room.
I took that to mean I was supposed to follow him, so I dragged on the rest of my clothes and headed for the hall.
“You doing okay?” he asked gruffly, without preamble, when I caught up to him.
“Not really.”
He nodded curtly. “Sophie sent something with me to give you.”
“Sophie?” What the hell could his stepdaughter have sent me? Whatever it was, he didn’t seem happy about giving it to me. But then again, he was never happy about anything to do with me, so his mood wasn’t a good indicator.
“In here,” he muttered, heading for his office.
I followed him inside, and I took a seat in the chair he pointed at. He sat in his usual chair on the opposite side of his desk, bending over to dig something out of the Storm duffel bag he always carried with him to the practice facility.
When he finally came up again, he tossed me a stack of heavy art paper, bound on one side with yarn threaded through a series of holes. On the top was a watercolor painting that I could only assume was meant to be a portrait of me, as I could make out a Storm jersey and the number fourteen on the sleeve. But I was surrounded by kids with smiling faces. One of them at the front—who had a smile just like Sophie’s—was hugging me around the waist. The words painted over the top read “Just Like Me.”
My tongue felt thick. I couldn’t swallow.
I opened the cover and scanned every page in the book. Every piece of artwork had clearly been created by a different kid. The styles were obviously different, not to mention the skill levels. But it was obvious that I was a feature in every one of them.
And several of them had me holding hands with a gray-haired woman, who I had to assume was Grandma. A few others had a different woman next to me—one with dark, curly hair. Must be Bea. My favorite picture had to be the one that had an ugly imitation of my grinning face, with almost all of my teeth missing.
“I don’t understand,” I said. But that wasn’t entirely true. I just couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that these kids, who ought to hate me for the things that I’d said a while back, had made something for me.
Bergy scowled. “Sophie and some of her middle school classmates went to Bea’s school while you two were gone. It was a field trip—something where the older students could help the younger students. They worked together to make this book for you. I told them I’d deliver it when you got back. They’re expecting you back in the classroom soon, but not right away. They know you have a job to do on the ice.”
I nodded, too choked up to say anything. But I’d have to eventually come up with something to say to Sophie, at least.
That little girl had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.
I nodded my thanks and Bergy sent me on my way.
Before leaving the practice facility for my pregame nap, I took out my cell phone and shot off a message to Bea, letting her know about the book and asking if it would be all right to share the images from our shoot with Brie Burns.
Bea was at school right now, so I didn’t expect an answer until quite a bit later. Color me shocked when I got an immediate response.
Bea: It’s fine for Brie to see them. But ONLY Brie. I haven’t even shown Dani yet. Not sure I will, actually.
Me: Done. But why aren’t you willing to show Dani?
Bea: She’s not your biggest fan.
Me: But she is yours. Wouldn’t she want to be part of this?
Bea: Maybe. I’ll think about it.
Me: As long as it’s just me you don’t want her to see and it’s not about you hiding…
Bea: My kids told me about the book today. They’ll be excited that you got it. When’s the next time you can come read to them?
Me: Maybe the week after your niece’s quinceañera?
Bea: We’ll sit down with a calendar and figure it out soon.
Before I could second-guess myself, I shot off a quick text message to Brie with the link to the image gallery and a note that it was for her eyes only, and she was not to share these images with anyone, including her husband.
Then I headed home for my pregame nap. Lord knew I could use the rest.
ONE GOOD THING to come from spending as much time on the East Coast with Blake as I had was that I’d demolished any possibility of going through with the dress fitting my mother had been insisting on for Paola’s quinceañera. The seamstress Mama had arranged for would never be able to finish a dress in time, which meant I could wear whatever I wanted—within reason, of course.
Of course, “within reason” for me meant something entirely different than it did for my mother. But that was what had led to the fashion show I was putting on for Dani Williams before the Storm’s home game against the Ducks.
“You’re not wearing brown,” she muttered, giving the first dress I’d held up the stink eye before dipping her spoon in the Halo Top ice cream I’d brought her as a bribe. She savored the bite like she was experiencing nirvana. It was Red Velvet, which I knew was her favorite. Obviously, I’ve never been above bribery and tricks.
“Brown looks good on my skin,” I countered, eyeing the dress I’d held up for her. It was perfectly acceptable—it even had a few shimmery bronze and gold details, so it wasn’t completely plain and boring. This was the sort of dress that would allow me to blend into the crowd of other older women at the quinceañera, and blending in sounded ideal.
“Everything looks good on your skin,” Dani argued. “You’ve got amazing skin. You can get away with anything with your coloring.” She stabbed her spoon into the carton again. “What color is your niece wearing?”
“It’s kind of a deep burgundy.”
“Then you should pick something in the same color family.” She narrowed her eyes, scanning the rack of dresses I’d brought with me. Her eyes lit up, and she pointed her spoon toward the end of the rack. “What’s that red thing look like?”
“It’s…nothing.” I shouldn’t have even brought that red thing, as she’d described it, with me today. It was a slinky, silky dress that Mia and Angie had pushed me to try on while we were lingerie shopping. I’d been so stunned by how I’d looked in it that I’d bought it, never mind the fact that I had no earthly idea where or when I might wear it.
As a teacher, I didn’t have too many opportunities to dress up. Certainly not in something slinky.
“Nothing, hmm?” Dani muttered. “I think that means you need to show me.”
Grudgingly, I took the hanger off the rack and held it up for Dani to see.
“Put it on, smart-ass.”
“The only smart-ass I see in here is you.”
“And proud of it. Now strip and let me see you in it.”
There wasn’t much point in arguing anymore. This was the whole reason I was here, after all. But first… “No one in your family’s going to walk in on me like this, are they?”
“They’re all at the game. The guys are playing. Dad’s coaching. Mom and Katie are in the box. Luke is working. It’s just you and me, chica.”
Taking her at her word, I stripped down to my bra and undies. Then I drew the slinky material over my head. “I’d have to get into some shapewear first to keep all my bulges in check, but you can get the general idea.”
The fabric shifted into place after a few slight tugs, and Dani’s eyes lit up. “Omigod. Bea Castillo, you’ve been holding out on me.”
“I told you. I can’t wear something like this around my fam—”
“This is exactly what you need to wear around your family. Let them see what a hottie you are. Who needs an LBD when you’ve got an LRD like that one?” She set her carton of Halo Top aside and waved me over to the bed. “Can I make a few alterations?” she asked, tugging at the hem and reaching for a stuffed red tomato-shaped cushion full of pins.
My wary-o-meter started going haywire. Mainly because the look in Dani’s eye couldn’t possibly mean anything good for me.
“What kind of alterations?”
“The kind where I take it up about an inch or three at the bottom.” She folded the fabric and put the pin in place so that it fell a few inches above my knee instead of a couple of inches below.
“That’s more like six inches!” I complained.
She kept placing her pins, though, somehow managing to avoid poking them through my skin. “Hardly.”
“That’s half a foot. You’re insane.”
“What else is new? I’ve been on bed rest forever and a day, and this baby isn’t going to come out for a while yet. Anyone would be insane in my shoes. But go look in the mirror with it like that.”
When I didn’t immediately comply, she shoved me away from the bed, reaching for her ice cream again in the same motion.
I stood in front of the mirror and grudgingly admitted to myself that she had a point.
“So?” she demanded. “Can I fix it up for you?”
“Fine,” I grumbled, tugging the fabric over my head and tossing it her way. My girl Dani might have all the tact of a bulldozer on steroids, but she was usually right when it came to what I should wear.
“Bring me my sewing kit,” she demanded, grinning as widely as I’d seen in months. “It’s on the desk in my work room down the hall. I can hand stitch this and have it done for you in no time.”
“I know where your sewing kit is,” I muttered. But first, I finished putting all my clothes on again. Didn’t want to take any chances of someone walking in on me when my flab was hanging everywhere, and I wasn’t entirely convinced that no one in her family would be stopping in. Yes, the guys had a game tonight, but with Dani’s pregnancy complications, everyone had been checking in on her far more often than usual.
No one stopped in, though, and an hour later, by the beginning of the first intermission, she’d finished her alterations—including adjusting the neckline, which I hadn’t been expecting.
“Just enhancing your assets,” she said with a smirk.
“Mm hmm.”
The game was still a scoreless tie, and Blake had only ended up in the penalty box once, for a minor tripping call when he’d gotten caught out of position and was too gassed to catch up to his guy. All in all, it seemed like he was having a reasonably good game for his first one back after such a long absence.
I put the dress on for a final fitting. “This is a lot sexier than I’m comfortable wearing at my niece’s quinceañera,” I complained, examining my reflection in the mirror.
“Which is exactly why you need to wear it. You’ve got to show them who you are now.”
I’d be doing enough of that just by showing up with Blake Kozlow on my arm. “My family won’t know what to do with the idea that I have a date. Dressing like this is going to be well beyond anything they can handle.”
“I still can’t believe you’re dating Koz.”
I chuckled to myself and climbed onto the bed next to her, dipping my own spoon into her carton of Halo Top. “Can you try to be nice to him for me? Or at least nicer?”
“Only until he fucks up and hurts you. As soon as that happens, though—” She drew a finger across her neck and made a slashing sound.
“What if he doesn’t hurt me?” Because so far, the only one who’d been hurting both of us was me, although I wasn’t sure Dani would ever believe it. She was too loyal to me by half, and too dead-set against him.
“As long as he doesn’t hurt you, I’ll be civil to him. Or at least I won’t bite his head off. Too much. But that’s about as good as he’ll ever get from me.”
“That’s about as good as anyone gets from you,” I pointed out.
She stuck out her tongue at me.
I winked.
The game returned, and they zoomed in on Blake sitting in the penalty box, looking as surly and disgruntled as ever.
“Oh, no,” I murmured.
“Get used to seeing him there if you’re serious about being with him. The guy spends more time in the box than out of it.”
“That’s right, folks,” the TV commentator said. “Blake Kozlow is once again in the sin bin, but believe it or not, this time it actually isn’t his fault.”
Dani snorted in disbelief.
“The Storm took a bench minor just as time expired at the end of the first,” he continued, “so Kozlow is doing the time.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t being penalized due to something he’d done himself.
The Storm’s penalty killers put up a heck of a fight, and they came away unscathed.
But the best thing was what happened as soon as time on Blake’s penalty expired. The seconds ticked down. He stood ready at the door. As soon as the time keeper opened it, he shot out onto the ice, and the puck soared straight to his stick.
He picked it up mid-stride and flew into the offensive zone with a few of his teammates on his tail and the other team’s defenders frantic to catch up.
But no one would.
He faked a shot, got the goaltender to bite, and then sent the puck heading for the opposite corner of the net. It went in, the goal light lit, and the arena went wild.
“I might forgive him if he keeps that up,” Dani mumbled.
“Mm hmm.”
“They need to get out of their slump. Bad.”
“You know, he’s a good guy underneath it all. Once you get to know him.”
“But that would require me getting to know him.” She dug into her now-empty carton of Halo Top, then scowled at me. “You’re going to make me get to know him, aren’t you?”
“I can’t make you do anything.”
“Yeah, but you’re dating him.”
“I am,” I agreed.
“Damn you. I don’t want to like Blake Kozlow.”
“I adore you, too,” I said. And to prove it, I dug a piece of dark chocolate out of the super-secret stash in my purse and tossed it her way. I kept some in there just for occasions like this.
“Just give me lots of warning before you marry him. I need time to prepare myself.”
“Prepare yourself?” I spluttered, but what I was really thinking was marry him? Who said anything about me marrying him?
“So I don’t show up in all black and declare an official state of mourning.”
“Mourning for what?”
“Your sanity. Duh.”
I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, and still I couldn’t stop.