by G. K. Brady
He shot upright from the edge of the desk. “I don’t want anything! She’s just someone I admire. I admire Mario Lemieux and Mother Teresa, but it doesn’t mean I want to date them.”
“Well, Mother Teresa is dead.”
His mouth curled into a smirk. “You’re being a total pain in the ass, you know that?”
Yeah, she knew it, but she was having too much fun trying to push buttons and see if she could get a rise out of him. Undaunted, she raced on. “What if I could get an interview set up with Kathryn?”
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. A look of—was that disappointment?—flashed across his face and morphed into a frown. “While I have no doubt you could pull off anything you set your mind to, I don’t want you playing my social director. Let’s just stick to the script we agreed to—social media—when you first twisted my arm into hiring you.”
A laugh squeezed from her lungs. “I didn’t twist your arm.”
“Yeah, you did.” He gave her a sly wink. “You should never underestimate your power of persuasion, Goldilocks. I sure don’t.” His chiseled cheekbones flushed fuchsia.
Where they still talking about the same thing? Or had they segued to last summer’s intimate encounter? Her cheeks flared with heat.
“Um, okay. So no setups, Professor?”
A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “No setups.”
In that moment, it struck Lily that Kathryn—any woman—would be lucky to have Gage Nelson pursue her. She tried to shake off her mind’s meanderings with a sharp inhale. Fortunately for her, her phone vibrated in her back pocket and gave her something else to do besides standing there looking into Gage’s uneven—and thoroughly amused—blue eyes.
Seeing Derek’s face on her screen sent her heart into worry overdrive.
“Hey, Der. Is everything okay?” She glanced at Gage, whose playful expression had shifted, reflecting the uneasiness she felt.
“Everything’s fine, Lil. Just wanted you to know we got to your place a little early. What time were you planning on being home?”
Her shoulders dropped with relief. Still holding Gage’s gaze, she said, “I can leave now and be there in fifteen.”
“That’s fine. Don’t rush. I’m good to hang out for a little bit.”
“Okay, thanks. If you’re hungry, there’s some roast beef in the fridge. Feel free to make yourself a sandwich.”
He laughed. “I like the way you make them better.”
She suppressed an eye-roll but smiled in spite of herself. “Is this your way of telling me you want me to make you one when I get home?”
“Bingo! That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“All right. I’ll be there soon.” She ended the call.
Gage’s eyes bored into hers. She glimpsed … hurt? Disappointment? “So Daisy’s okay?” he said.
“She’s fine. Derek was just giving me a heads-up that they got home early.”
“To your place. I guess he has a key?”
“Well, yes.” Something in his demeanor made her rush to explain. “I have a key to his place too. It makes it easier with the kids.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Ah. Is it just Derek, then?”
Gage’s question teetered her off balance. “Who has a key, you mean?” Why was he asking?
“No, I meant does Derek have other family? Siblings? Parents?”
“No. Their parents died in a helicopter crash years ago, which left the two brothers. Now it’s just Derek.” The finality brought a rush of tears, building pressure behind her eyes and clawing her throat. With a hard swallow and a series of rapid blinks, she squeezed them off.
Gage nodded. “You make him dinner often?” His expression was neutral, bland even, giving away none of the thoughts streaming behind those blue eyes.
“No. And I only said I’d make him a sandwich when I got home. It’s just a snack. Which is the least I can do, considering how much he helps me out. Not just with Daisy, but he does little things around the house for me all the time. He takes good care of us.” Because Jack can’t. She dropped her voice, fighting a telltale quaver. “Where are you going with this?”
He shrugged. “Just curious. Wondering if there’s a chance you and he might …”
Now she folded her arms across her chest and cocked a brow. Why did she feel like a lover being put on the spot for … what, exactly? “Might what?”
“If you’ve ever gotten together. If you think you might ever get together.”
She suspected what he’d been aiming at, but suspecting and hearing were completely different, and his words about Derek made her recoil. And why was Gage asking anyway? Did she detect a hint of jealousy? Possessiveness? Funny. She warmed slightly to the feeling it evoked—of being wanted.
But Derek and her? “Absolutely not.”
“It just seems like a natural—”
“He tried. Once. When he was really drunk.” Admitting it aloud shocked her. She’d never told anyone, not even Ivy.
Gage’s expression hardened, and though he didn’t say a word, his posture reflected a steeliness that made her rush to explain. She wanted the episode off her chest anyway.
She pulled in a deep breath. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this, but it was on the anniversary of Jack’s death a few years ago. Derek and Violet’s mom had just split up. We’d both been drinking, talking, grieving. And then we were crying, and Derek put his arms around me to … to comfort me. He was emotional. We both were. He got a little carried away. I don’t know who was more mortified.” A shoulder shrug eased some of her tension. “It was … awkward, to say the least. He apologized, and that was it. Nothing else ever happened, so I’d call it a blip of weirdness that came and went. End of story.”
Gage’s expression hadn’t wavered. “Do you worry he’ll try again?”
“What? No! He … he feels protective of Daisy and me, like it’s his job now that Jack’s gone. Derek’s the only Everett male left. He’s taking care of his tribe. It’s the same way you are with your family. Does it make sense in that context?”
Seeming to ease, Gage glanced at the ceiling before landing his gaze back on her. “Yeah, it makes sense.”
She felt a flush of unexpected relief.
“C’mon. I’ll walk you to your car so you can get home and make Derek a sandwich.” He smiled, and whatever had been tilted inside her was suddenly upright again.
Chapter 13
Game On
Athought struck Gage as Lily drove away. He’d been so thrown off by trying to grasp the nature of her relationship with Derek that he’d totally forgotten to ask about another chance to meet Daisy. Didn’t help that Derek had interrupted. Just like it didn’t help to learn he’d made a move on Lily once. The thought twisted Gage’s insides with surprising primal fierceness.
Fucking Derek.
Pushing a few cleansing breaths through his lungs, he put the thorny thought aside and swiped his phone.
“Hello?” his grandma said after two rings.
“Hi, Grandma. It’s Gage.”
“Hello?”
“Grandma? Can you hear me?”
“Hello?”
“Grandma!” he shouted.
Some fumbling on the other end, and he repeated her name once, twice with no answer. Then the line went dead. He dialed again, but it rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail she would never check. Had no comprehension how to check.
After reaching Evelyn, Skyview’s receptionist, to be sure his grandmother was, in fact, all right, he dialed his mom.
“Gage,” she bubbled. “Honey, it’s so nice to finally hear your voice.”
Yeah, heap on a helping of guilt. He should have called sooner.
They chatted about benign subjects like the weather, hockey, and Grandma.
During a lull in the conversation, his mother took an unfortunate detour. “Have you spoken to Jessica lately?”
Caught off guard, he sputtered, “No. Why?”
“Oh, Gage,” his mother tsked, disappointment dripping from her voice. “She says she’s left you messages. Haven’t you returned any of her calls yet? I thought I raised you with better manners than that.”
The rebuke made him bristle, but he let it go. Not wanting to let his mom down—again—he opted for a different strategy besides the out-and-out direct approach. “With playoffs coming and everything on my plate right now, I’ve just been too busy.”
“Maybe she could come stay with you and take your mind off things for a few days. She has some time off coming up, you know.”
Astonishment rocked him. Jesus, pushy much? He opted not to ask how his mom knew Jessica’s vacation schedule and went for casual instead. “Not a good idea, Mom. I wouldn’t be able to keep her company. She’d just be sitting around staring at four walls.”
“She could come to your games, cook you some nice meals, do your laundry.”
“You mean be my maid? Maybe she could trim the trees while she’s at it or refinish my deck,” he joked, hoping she’d get the hint.
Either she didn’t get it or she refused to. “Jessica’s a master in the kitchen, Gage. Remember? And she thinks you’re so perfect, you know, like we all do. You can’t be upset with her for wanting to be part of your life again.”
Oh man, she is not going to give up! And there was that word again—perfect. Ha! If he were so damn perfect, he wouldn’t have gotten all bent out of shape over Derek or Jack Everett when he had no right to.
Squelching his frustration, he used a familiar dodge. “Look, Mom, I’ve gotta go. I, uh, have a team meeting I need to get to.”
This was met by a long-suffering sigh. “Please just think about it, Gage.”
“Think about what?”
“About inviting Jessica out. Your house must be so empty and quiet. Wouldn’t it be lovely to hear a woman’s voice?”
It had been nice to hear a woman’s voice in his house today—because of who that woman was. Someone entirely different from the one his mom had in mind. “Mom, I’ve really got to go.”
Another fluttering sigh. “All right. Honestly, Gage, I wouldn’t carry on if I weren’t worried about you.”
Fingers massaging his forehead, patience on a fine thread, Gage cut off the call. “I love you, Mom. Don’t worry, okay? I’m fine. I’ll call you next week.”
An exasperated breath whooshed from him after he disconnected. He plopped on his couch, picked up his guitar, and cranked up the amplifier. Time for some blues. He played classics like “Mustang Sally” and “Shelter Me,” but the songs didn’t keep his mom’s words from ringing in his ears, so he switched his mind’s grinding gears.
His conversation with Grims had been on a loop in his head, and he tuned in a little more closely. Fall for the mom, fall for the kid. What about the reverse? What if the kid fell for you? Would the mom follow?
Back all the way up, dude. You are so far ahead of yourself that you’re gonna get whistled for offsides.
But then his conversation with Sarah floated to the forefront. Locating his phone, he tapped out a message to Lily: Does Daisy skate?
Lily: Sort of?
Gage: Would she like to learn?
He thought better of the text and replaced it with: Would you like her to learn? I know a professor who can teach her. LOL.
Lily: She’d love it.
Gage: How about her mama?
Lily: She’s pretty iffy. LOL.
Gage: I have mini mites Saturday morning. Come by and I’ll get her set up.
Lily: To play mites???
Gage: Probably best if she has the basics first, but whatever she wants.
Lily: Are you serious?
Gage: As a game misconduct.
Lily: She’ll be so excited. See you then, Professor.
He sent her details, slid the phone on the coffee table, and leaned back, hands laced behind his head. For the first time in hours, satisfaction thrummed in his chest.
Saturday morning couldn’t come fast enough. He was on the ice setting up practice cones with the assistant coaches when his gaze caught on a froth of blond hair on the other side of the glass, close by the open door where the mini mites would soon stream onto the ice.
He squinted. Either he was seeing double or there were two heads with springy blond curls, one taller than the other. He made for the door, and the sight through the Plexiglas sharpened. Lily, a tentative smile on her face, stood behind a little girl no taller than his mites. The girl’s wide eyes were fixed on the rink, and she sported a smile that seemed to take over her whole face. Pointing at the ice, she tilted her head upward at Lily and began bouncing in place. He nearly laughed out loud.
Lily kept her eyes pinned to his as he reached the door and stepped onto the rubberized floor. No lie, that step was more of a spring. He found himself buoyed, excited to meet this pint-sized replica of her mom.
“Hey.” He flashed Lily the first smile.
“Hey,” she replied, her smile growing a little surer, a little wider.
His eyes traveled to the little girl, who was unabashedly gawking at him. He dropped into a crouch in front of her, leveling his gaze with hers. She had clear silvery-gray orbs and was missing a tooth.
“Hi.” He held out his hand. “I’m Gage.”
With a shy giggle, she pressed her back into Lily’s legs. Lily rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders and gave her a light squeeze.
“Daisy, use your manners. Say hello to … to Mr. Gage.”
He dropped his hand, dangling it from his knee. “Did you know your mom helps me with my work? She and I are friends, so I think that makes you and me friends too.” He cocked a questioning eyebrow at Lily, silently asking for guidance. How do I play this? What do I do next?
Lily seemed to haul in a breath. “Gage, this is—”
“I’m Daisy,” the girl declared. “And this is my mom.” Another giggle, and she threw her head against Lily and gazed up at her.
Lily ran her fingers through Daisy’s whorls. “You’ve told him your name, but you still haven’t said hello. Can you say hello now?”
Those luminous gray eyes locked on to his. “Hello, Mr. Cage.” She squirmed in her mother’s arms.
Lily leaned down to Daisy’s ear. “Mr. Gage, sweetie.”
“Mr. Cage.”
“Mr. Cage is fine,” he offered. “Your mom tells me you’re ready to skate.”
She nodded solemnly before roaming her eyes back to the ice, where something seemed to capture all her attention. She left the shelter of her mother’s legs and pressed her forehead to the glass, her conversation with Gage utterly abandoned.
He stood, taking note of the tender look in Lily’s eyes as she watched her daughter. The inexplicable urge to circle his arms around them both seized him until he mentally shook it off. He steadied his breath and schooled his features before leaning down to Lily. “Ready to go to the pro shop and get her fitted for some skates?”
“Yes.” Thank you, she mouthed, making him feel about twelve feet tall. She extended her hand to Daisy. “Come on, sweet pea. Let’s get you some skates.”
Daisy spun, bypassed her mom’s hand, and slipped her tiny one into Gage’s, surprising him. With her head thrown back to look up at him, she said, “My mom says you’re gonna teach me to play hockey, Mr. Cage.”
If all it took was looks to fall under someone’s spell, he was a goner for this little cutie.
He gave her doll-like hand a squeeze of his fingers. “I am. And I bet you’ll be flying around the rink in no time.” He winked at Lily. “And maybe we can get your mom out there too. What do you think, Daisy?”
Blond curls bobbed. “I like that. I like you, Mr. Cage.”
His heart might have cracked open and oozed. Or maybe it had been turned to putty. He wasn’t sure. But he was sure of what he said next.
“I like you too, Daisy.”
Though Lily had only brought Daisy to skate with Gage—well, Gage’s mites team—a few times now, s
he was growing accustomed to the unpleasant smells that assaulted her whenever she set foot inside the rink complex: a combination of chemicals, an odd variant on mustiness, and the tang of reeking gear bags. She was making other adjustments too, like weaving Gage’s crazy schedule into hers and feeding Hobbes when the Blizzard hit the road. The routine—if one could call it that—had become comfortable, like a cozy wool wrap.
Skating, playing on mini mites, was all Daisy could talk about—and “Mr. Cage.” Mr. Cage was making his first appearance today in over two weeks, having flown in early this morning after an extended road trip. Lily felt a lift of excitement as her eyes searched him out on the ice. They caught on Derek at the bottom of the bleachers, laughing with one of the hockey moms.
He gave a start when he spotted Lily. “Hey, didn’t see you come in.” The mom withdrew with an eyelash-fluttering, “See you soon, Derek.”
Lily bit back a smirk. “Thanks for bringing Daisy. I really appreciate it.” She stared into his eyes for a beat, trying to recall if Jack’s had been the same shade of gray.
“Yeah, no problem. I’m always there for you, Lil. You know that.”
A figure clad in black warm-ups, sporting a backward Blizzard ball cap, skated at them and loomed on the other side of the glass. She’d recognize that dazzling smile anywhere, and her heart knocked a little harder against her ribcage. She beamed back at “Mr. Cage.” His eyes strafed Derek, who gave him a frosty chin jerk before turning and leaving.
Gage yelled through the glass, his muffled voice asking if she wanted to lace up and join them. His grin broadened. She shook her head adamantly. Yeah, she hadn’t done that yet, self-conscious as she was by her wobbly ankles next to Gage’s smooth, even strides. The man was silk on ice.
Once more alone, Lily began a slow walk around the perimeter of the rink, taking pictures from different angles with her phone. Careful not to record the kids’ features or jersey numbers, she threw herself into capturing candid shots for social media. Number Six doing his part for the kids and the community.
Lingering a moment, pondering a different vantage point, she watched Daisy skirt a series of orange cones. She laughed inwardly at the huge helmet that seemed three times too big for her little body. All the mites wore them, reminding Lily of a gang of Dark Helmet clones from Spaceballs.
