Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I made a comical face. “Oops.”
“Yeah. And last week, this kid Monty stuck a wad of gum on a teammate’s stick as a prank, and it backfired on a few fronts. No gum is allowed on the ice, and the stick was borrowed and belonged to another family. There were tears and honestly, it was a little traumatic for me.”
I patted his arm and grinned. “Poor baby.”
“Right?” Court shook his head in mock disbelief. “And listen to this one…someone peed their pants on the ice.”
“No!”
“Yes. That was above my pay grade.”
“How could you tell it was pee?”
“For fuck’s sake, it was yellow, Ive! I mean…c’mon. No one fessed up, and I didn’t want to know anyway. I surrendered the ice to Ronnie,” he huffed while I dissolved into hysterics. “Yeah, yeah, very funny.”
I nudged his feet playfully. “Sounds like you’re doing well.”
“It’s not so bad. Thankfully, Mary-Kate is a great assistant. The kids look up to her because she’s sweet and cool, and…she skates like a fucking demon. I like the Bantam group too. They’re miles above the skill level of the littler kids, but they’re still rough around the edges. I honestly can’t believe how patient Vinnie and Riley are with them. They cheer the slower skaters on, correct positioning and stick handling, and constantly remind them to pass…without losing their fucking minds. It’s amazing.”
“Do you prefer coaching juniors?”
“Not necessarily. They’re numbskulls too. And they’re teenagers. Double whammy.”
“Teenagers. Ew.” I chuckled around a rogue yawn. “Sorry. I have to be up early tomorrow.”
“How early is early?”
“My alarm is set for four-thirty,” I replied.
“Yuck. Is it just you and Mazie at the shop?”
“Yeah, but we’ll be fine. I’m more concerned about having time to decorate.”
Court cocked his head and pointed at my black tree. “Your Nightmare on Elm Street tree is already up. Should be easy to throw a few ornaments on it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “There is no such thing as throwing a few ornaments on a tree in my world. I take great care with my holiday arrangements at home and at the shop. Well, I usually deck out Rise and Grind with Stacy, but…I’ll manage.”
“I can help. I’m a volunteering motherfucker these days. I can lift heavy boxes or hang a wreath. What do you need?”
“Um…well, can you hang snowflakes from the ceiling?”
Knock knock.
Court shrugged as he stood to answer the door and hopefully rescue our Chinese food. “No idea what that means, but sure. I’m hungry.”
“Me too. I’m in the mood for chicken fried rice and twenty egg rolls.” I hopped off the sofa and slipped my arms around his waist. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
He smoothed a wayward curl away, kissing my forehead. “Deal.”
I set the table and poured wine, my mind and body buzzing with happy, sexed-out sensations that skyrocketed when Court walked into the kitchen with our takeout. He sat across from me, purring happily as he opened a container. Gah, I could get used to this.
And that wasn’t smart.
I heaved a sigh, closing my eyes briefly. “Just so you know…I totally have a crush on you again.”
Court handed a set of chopsticks over and beamed. “Good, ’cause I have a crush on you too.”
I smiled.
That was more than enough.
7
COURT
My cell buzzed in my pocket amid the clatter of dishes and laughter. I peeked at the caller ID and swiveled off the barstool at the kitchen island, wandering into the adjoining family room. I spared a cursory glance at the football game on the flat-screen before spreading out on one corner of the sectional.
Post dinner conversation drifted through the house along with the smell of pumpkin pie and coffee. We had a full house at Chez Henderson for Thanksgiving. Two dozen or more aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends had gathered for the holiday. Most lived in or around Elmwood, but a few had traveled for the occasion, like my brother and his girlfriend.
Thanksgiving was steeped in tradition in our house. Dad always made enough pancakes to feed an army every year, then stepped aside to let Mom and my aunts take over turkey prep. And when the cousins arrived, we’d head over to Carlton Park for a game of flag football. As a kid, that had been the highlight of the day for me. I was a better hockey player by far, but I’d always loved the camaraderie of family football.
I’d missed it three years in a row, so I’d been looking forward to today. It had been a hoot to see my Uncle Stan run after my cousin, Lauren, swipe at her flag, and miss. He’d huffed and puffed, shaking his head as she scored the winning touchdown, and panted, “I taught her that move.”
We’d all groaned, high-fived Lauren, and made our way home for an afternoon of nonstop eating and more football. But hockey was still a big topic of conversation. The games last night, the games tomorrow, Elmwood’s junior team kicking ass, and of course…my stalled career.