Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“You’re damn right I will.” He stroked his dog’s head. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. She likes to watch Wheel after her zoomies run out.”
Burgess nodded, but he was looking at Tallulah. “Good night, Hank.”
“Night.”
As soon as the roof door closed behind the tenant, Burgess cleared his throat. “Are you still good to stay up here?”
Tallulah registered her steady pulse, the lack of cloying fear that usually showed up when there was a possibility of being alone with a man she didn’t know and trust. There was a baseline hum of wariness, just not enough worry to return downstairs. Besides, she did need to speak to him. She hadn’t decided yet whether to move in, but no matter what decision she made, she was hoping Burgess wouldn’t mind if she took Lissa out for ice cream once in a while. And again, the fact that Burgess was taking her comfort into consideration went a long way. Was she really starting to feel secure around him? Already?
“Yes,” she responded slowly. “I’m good.”
Tallulah walked to the far end of the roof and propped her forearms on the perimeter wall, briefly closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation of the wind picking up her hair and blowing it out behind her. When she opened them again, Burgess stood to her left, watching her face with an unreadable expression that he quickly disguised with his usual stoicism.
“So why are the rookies on your team so annoying?” she asked, kind of hoping to stall having to make a choice—move in or move on.
Burgess rolled a shoulder that could have belonged to an ox. “They’re just young and cocky. They haven’t been humbled yet and it shows.”
“Interesting. What does it take to humble a hockey player?”
He leaned forward onto his elbows, seemingly mulling over her question. “Time.”
That wasn’t the answer she’d expected and she waited, hoping he’d elaborate.
“They have to experience a few hard losses to appreciate winning. The greatest players are great because they can cope with losing. They’ve been there, been humbled by getting crowned second or third best.” He shrugged. “You can take home the first-place trophy, but it won’t be as sweet if you’ve never experienced second. That hasn’t happened to them yet.”
“Have you told them any of this?”
Burgess made a sound that called to mind a garbage disposal. “I’m not sure why everyone thinks guiding these kids is my job.”
“Because you’re . . .”
“The veteran.” He laughed without humor. “Believe me, I know.”
Tallulah studied his face, the downturned corners of his mouth. “You don’t like being called a veteran.” He grunted in affirmation. “Why? Just . . . vanity?”
“Vanity?” he repeated, looking like he’d swallowed a fly.
“Geez. Never mind.”
They went back to staring out over the rooftops. Burgess spoke again after a moment, “I don’t like the reminder that I’ll be retiring someday soon.” He paused. “I don’t like wondering if maybe I should have retired already. I think that’s what happened in that preseason game last week. I got asked before the game started if I still felt capable of playing with the young guns . . . and I don’t know. I think I just overcompensated trying to prove I could. I know how ridiculous that sounds.”
“I don’t think it sounds ridiculous. I don’t have the mindset of an athlete, but I can put myself in your . . . skates.” They smirked at each other and a little more of her wariness melted away. “Having a long career like yours is an accomplishment in itself. But you’re also at a disadvantage, right? Everyone has watched you play for over a decade and they can draw comparisons. Then they have all these stats to refer to—”
“This is really helping, Tallulah.”
“Sorry.” She laughed. “But I do get where you’re coming from.”
Still leaning on his left forearm, he reached back again and massaged that spot at the bottom of his spine. His low groan was also swallowed up by the wind, but she heard it.
“Back hurt?”
“It’s fine,” he grumbled.
She raised an eyebrow.
“It is.” He straightened to his full height and braced his legs apart. Crossing his powerful arms over his chest, causing those sharp-cut triceps to wink at her like they were sharing a secret. “We might as well talk about this nanny gig.”
Tallulah pushed off the wall and faced him, squaring her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
“I’ll do anything I can to make it work.” He looked away from her as he said it, almost like he was slightly embarrassed. “You just waltzed in this morning and . . . Christ. I couldn’t even see your fingers while you were braiding her hair, they moved so fast. Then tonight?” He shook his head. “I know it’s not your job to be our family counselor, but you’ve got this way of calming everything down. I really don’t like people telling me to pull my head out of my ass—ask my coaches. But for some reason, I really, really don’t mind when you do it.”