Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Riley Thoreau Is Seattle Bound!
The veteran pro isn’t ready to hang up his skates yet. After making a full recovery here in Elmwood from a recent concussion, Thoreau is heading back to the ice to finish his season with the Slammers. There’s been heavy speculation about his pending retirement, but hockey fans everywhere will be excited for his return. As for next season…
“They didn’t get my good side,” I deadpanned, handing the paper to Nolan.
He chuckled. “Well, they got your nose.”
“And my stomach. I’m going to work now, and then I’ll do five hundred sit-ups. Au revoir.”
“Wait. Can I ask about you and Riley?”
I sighed. “Go ahead.”
“You seem…close to him and—are you going to be okay…when he leaves?”
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to laugh at Nolan’s awkward show of concern or cry that he’d felt the need to voice it at all. Everyone was guilty of leaving things unsaid to avoid moments like this, so perhaps I should have been grateful that he’d tried, but I felt sad that I couldn’t be honest.
I shoved a hand through my hair and shrugged. “I’m okay, Nol. Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay, but…I’m here if you want to talk. Whenever.”
“Merci.” I smiled tightly, hooking a thumb toward the kitchen meaningfully and turning the doorknob. “And now…work.”
I paused to check on a few dishes on my way to my station and surveyed my kingdom—the gleaming stainless steel appliances, the smartly attired and well-trained chefs, the meticulously organized trays of fruits, vegetables, and herbs. Okay, it was the same mess I’d left five minutes ago. Even the fucking garlic skins were still on the floor. But everything and everyone was in its place.
Even me.
My fork in the road had suddenly splintered. And Seattle…
Could I walk away from this? Could I start over…again?
Yes, and I’d do it in a heartbeat to be with Riley.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that our choices were more complicated than stay or go.
Elmwood was a winter wonderland cloaked in snow, glittery in the moonlight. Inside, tapered candles flickered on the linen tablecloth, and Nat King Cole crooned softly about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Neither Riley nor I had decorated for the holidays so there was no tree, no wreath, no tacky gnomes with Santa hats. But we had music, lush wine, and amazing cuisine.
I’d made my signature chicken cordon bleu served with lemon-infused scalloped potatoes and green beans gremolata. For dessert, we’d have a berry pavlova. Riley didn’t care about sweets, but to me, a celebratory meal required the proper punctuation via a sugar boost. And the best thing about pavlova was that it looked impressive and pretty on a table, yet it was relatively simple to assemble.
Riley dished up a spoonful of merengue and berries, sighing at the first bite. “Oh, my God. This is so good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I sipped my wine, unabashedly staring at my lover.
He was beautiful by candlelight. His cheekbones could have been carved out of marble, and his eyes were bright with humor and happiness. Fantastic food, amazing sex, and a renewed sense of purpose made him glow. It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d come to Elmwood to heal. He’d had a haunted aura of someone on the verge of losing a war, but now…he’d won.
“I don’t know how you did all this. Unless your minions did the work and you’re taking the credit.”
“Hmph. It was all me.”
Riley grinned as he slid his foot along my calf. “Thank you. It was delicious, but why’d you do all this?”
“You deserve a proper send-off.”
He went still. “Oh. Like a last supper or something.”
“That’s not it, but I—”
“Have you thought about coming to Seattle?”
“It sounds…magnifique.”
“Oh, fuck. I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.” He sighed theatrically. “Look, I know it’s not a matter of packing a bag and hopping the next flight, but let’s put this on the calendar and not leave it for Christmas.”
“Christmas?”
“Yeah, I’ll swing by when I visit my family over the holiday. I’ll be busy next week—medical evaluations, press conferences, and my first game back. I won’t get any playing time, but I’m so ready to be there, ya know?”
I nodded and did my best to make my lips curl into something resembling a smile. “I know.”
“We have a stretch of home games the second week of January. I can show you the city, take you to the finest restaurants. Do you think you can get away?”
I swallowed hard as I set my wineglass on the table and leaned forward to cover his hand. “Riley…I can’t go to Seattle in January.”
He frowned but recovered quickly. “February is good too. The weather will still suck, but—”
“I’m not coming with you, Riley.”
He lowered his fork, his brow furrowed unhappily. “You…you just said—”
“That it sounded wonderful and amazing,” I interrupted, pushing the pavlova aside to lace our fingers. “It’s not that I don’t want to…I do. I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth, but you’re not ready for this.”