by Kate Meader
Hockey Viking stared at her. He was awfully handsome, even with that piratical scar down the left side of his cheek. Or perhaps because of it. That and the beard gave his all-American good looks an edge of danger.
So hot, who gave him the right? And now she was staring.
Strangely, so was he.
“Is she? Safe?” Sadie managed to choke out into the weird silence. Her skin was heating up while she was the focus of his regard.
He shook his head, like a man trying to wake himself from a deep sleep. “She’s safe. Being the only girl, I’m keeping an eye on her—”
“Only girl?” She should have known that, but she was too busy trying to pack up their lives and avoid the difficult topics. Guilt consumed her. Whatever Lauren had told this guy about Sadie’s negligence wasn’t completely off-base. She might not be hanging with a drug-dealer boyfriend but Lauren had obviously picked up on Sadie’s attitude and internalized it. “You mean she could really get hurt doing this!”
“She won’t get hurt. There’s no checking allowed and now that she’s been warned, it won’t happen again. If anything, the rest of them are in danger from her.” This seemed to amuse him because child-on-child violence was hilarious, apparently. “You could stop in and watch a practice any time. See how it all works.”
It sounded conciliatory, a way to soothe the rift between them and put her mind at ease about Lauren. But it didn’t soothe her. It made her heart speed up a thousand times more than was safe. Only she wasn’t sure if it was her worry about Lauren or the strangely tangible energy connecting her to the man before her.
“I-I’m kind of swamped with work. Maybe on the last day of camp. It ends Friday?”
He nodded. “And then the advanced skills session starts up next week, which Lauren is signed on for. Plenty of time for you to visit.”
Lauren was hurting, Sadie knew that. She just didn’t know how to make it better. Judging by her secret smile when recounting her prowess yesterday, Lauren seemed happiest on the ice, around other people who appreciated her talent. Having spent the last few years in boarding school, she didn’t have friends in the city so the camp was a godsend, temporary though it might be. Sadie needed this to work.
“Sure. Anything else?” She knew she came off as rude but her skin was tingling and her heart was hammering. She needed to escape.
“Yeah. Isobel and I have been talking—”
“Isobel?”
“Isobel Chase. She runs the camp and is one of the team owners?” At her blank look he returned an adamantine one. “Lauren’s really talented and we think that maybe she’s bored with some of the stuff we’re doing. A lot of the kids are here because they love hockey and exercise is good but very few of them have the talent and drive to take it to the next level. The regimen is pretty circumscribed by age group but we’re thinking of ways to keep her interest.” He paused and rubbed his beard. Good God, she’d play a gif of that over and over, if she could. “I understand she’s had a rocky few months.”
So he knew. She didn’t feel his judgment anymore, only a quiet understanding that almost undid her.
“It’s been hard for her. Still is. I moved here temporarily to look after her while we come up with a guardianship plan. She’s my half-sister and I don’t know her very well. The first order of business is getting her into school in LA. We should be there now but I have some financial stuff to tie up and I promised we’d stay for the camp …” She stopped talking, realizing that she was babbling, but when Hockey Viking wasn’t being a jerk, he came off as incredibly soothing. Something about those blue-on-blue eyes …
Snap out of it.
“Anything you can do to maintain her interest would be fantastic.” But please stop whatever it is you’re doing to maintain mine. “I need to get going.”
“Sure.” He remained still, nary an eyelash flutter.
Her muscles felt heavy as his eyes landed like weights on every inch of her. She’d made more of an effort today, wearing a cheery sundress with flirty cap sleeves and a full skirt that flattered her curves. She was especially proud of this design, a homage (okay, rip-off) to a 1930s dress pattern she’d found on her search through vintage pattern books. Its warm green gingham was Rockwell Americana in fabric form. Not worn for him, though. Just so she didn’t feel like a complete frump while she did the camp drop-off. She looked forward to Cooper puking on it later.
She walked around to the driver’s side and pulled on the handle. And pulled. Her eyes were drawn to the car keys, currently in the ignition.
Ah, hell.
12
“Cooper, honey, don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of there.”
Cooper raised his head, a sliver of drool hanging off his jaw, not a care in the world.
Sadie tried the car door again, but the situation had not magically resolved itself in the last thirty seconds. The big dog was still locked in a rapidly-warming car. She turned to Hockey Viking who had dialed up the intensity and disapproval to epic levels. “This is your fault.”
He tried the car door himself, obviously not trusting her to do that simplest of tasks.
“How is this my fault?”
“You distracted me the moment I showed up with your “let’s have a chat” spiel and I took my eye off the ball for a second. A second!” She grabbed the car handle, this time taking in more details. The key in the ignition, her purse in the passenger seat, her phone peeking out of it like it was giving her the middle finger.
“Coop, I’m here.”
Cooper didn’t even acknowledge her that time.
“He’s getting lethargic.”
“He’s not getting lethargic,” the Viking—the useless, annoying, why-aren’t-you-helping Viking—muttered.
“My phone is in the car so could you call someone? Preferably a locksmith rather than the authorities so they don’t take my sister and her dog away from me.”
“Is everything okay?”
A dark-haired woman appeared out of nowhere. Great, another person on hand to judge. “Oh, hi, Gunnar,” the new arrival said. Two hundred percent better, they knew each other.
“She’s locked herself out,” Gunnar said, with an edge to his voice.
“Oh, I’ve done that a time or five.” The woman waved cheerfully at Coop, who remained unimpressed.
“He’s been ill and I was taking him to the vet when I became distracted”—she shot a look at the source of her distraction who was now on the phone, speaking in hushed, non-emergent tones. Was she supposed to feel calmed by this? Because she … didn’t. Not in the slightest.
“We can always break a window if we have to,” the woman said blithely.
Easy for her to say. Sadie couldn’t be without the car for any length of time while she was chauffeuring Lauren around the suburbs. Broken windows cost money.
“Help’s on the way,” the Viking said a moment later.
“What kind of help?”
“Unlocking-door help.” Cupping his face, he squinted through the semi-tinted window. “Sure, it’s a grand adventure for him. And it’s not that warm yet.”
“Coop, you okay?” Sadie leaned in toward the window again, her arm brushing against the Viking’s. A sizzle of heat she’d prefer to credit to the big, bright ball of gas in the sky coursed through her and she stepped away.
The dog gave her the sad eyes, which were better than the dead eyes.
“I can’t believe this is happening. I just need one thing to go right today and you couldn’t give me this.”
“Who are you talking to?”
She turned to the oaf. She meant him of course but she didn’t want to get into it with his lady friend present. “The universe. Ever heard of it? The puppeteer that pulls the strings.”
There it was, that dismissive glare again. “You think someone else is calling the shots here? That’s not how it works.” He said that last part with a vehemence that surprised her.
“I know I didn’t ask to be dropped into this
situation.”
Clearly she was projecting here. For “this situation” read instant parenthood. Her life uprooted. Everything she thought she knew overturned. Perhaps she was being dramatic but she couldn’t see a way forward that resulted in her returning to her previous, stable existence. That life was gone. As she hadn’t chosen for that life to be blown to smithereens, someone else must be responsible.
Her father. But she refused to think he had this much control over her destiny. She’d worked her ass off to ensure he did not, so to have her life upended by his mistakes made her mad.
A crowd of hockey moms had gathered. Sadie was glad Lauren wasn’t here to witness this, but she could have done without the whispers slithering into her ear. She heard her father’s name. When she looked, a couple of women held her gaze, but most of them were staring at the Viking.
She turned to him. “Who did you call again?”
“This guy.”
A man in overalls appeared with a toolbox. Two minutes later, he’d unlocked the car and thirty seconds later, Sadie was hugging her savior—the toolbox guy—a lifeline in this cruel, unfeeling world.
“Thanks so, so much, Mr. …”
The man blushed. “Dennis. I work in maintenance.”
“Dennis, thank you! You have done a good thing here.”
“Happy to help,” he said with a diffident smile. “The lock shouldn’t be damaged, but you might want to check. After you have your keys outside the vehicle, of course.”
The Viking shook Dennis’s hands, and possibly gave him something? Was that a hundred dollar bill? The last thing she needed was to owe this guy anything.
Sadie opened the back door. The stench hit everyone at once.
“Cooper the pooper. Of course.” She looked around helplessly.
“I’ve got some wipes in the car,” the dark-haired woman said, backing away quickly and wisely. This was also the signal for the rest of the rubbernecking crowd to disperse.
Gunnar remained at a stench-safe distance. “I guess your dog is stressed.”
“We all are.”
“Here we go! I’m Jenny, by the way. Jenny Isner.” She handed off a large cylinder of wipes along with a brown paper bag.
“You’re prepared.”
“It happens a lot. We have a Border collie that’s very highly strung. Let me help—”
“Oh, no, you’ve done more than enough. I mean, you’ve been very helpful already.” Sadie grabbed a huge wad of wipes so she could return the container and not be obliged to have witnesses for her poop-scoop method.
“Sure,” Jenny said. “Do you need the name of a vet? We have one.”
“No, it’s okay. I have one and I’m hopeful he can give him a pill or something.” She handed off the container, and added politely but dismissively, “You’ve both been amazing.”
So amazing that neither of them were leaving. Cooper decided now would be a good time to exit the car, which was probably not a terrible idea so she could clean up without trying to lift him.
“Hold up, Coop, I need to put you on a leash.”
She found it and attached it, then looked around for some way to keep him tethered to the car.
“I’ve got him.” Gunnar took the leash from her and her as-yet-unstained-by-poop hands brushed with his. Bit of a zing there, she was sure. Oh, Lord, why?
“Thanks,” she said, only because Jenny was still here.
She cleaned up as best she could, all with half an ear to the conversation behind her. Something about a production of Cats, and a couple named Theo and Elle, and one of them being a diva. Jenny found this hilarious. Mr. Fun-in-a-Beard did not.
When she turned, she found him hunkered down, using the wipes to clean up Coop who had obviously rolled around in his own poop like the genius he was. Gunnar cleaned his hands with more wipes, gave Cooper a good old scratch behind the ears, and whispered something to him. Coop loved it, of course.
Sadie deposited the dirty wipes in the paper bag, which Gunnar took from her and filled with his own soiled cloths.
“I can show you where to wash your hands.” He handed off the leash to Jenny. “Couple of minutes?”
“Of course. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Oh, she had to follow him? He deposited the bag in a trash can, which was really nice of him.
“Uh, thanks.” She was getting sick of thanking him when the words were not naturally formed on her lips.
Up ahead, he walked with a loose-limbed grace that came from being an athlete, she supposed. His sweatpants should really have been less tight because no way should she be appreciating the stretch of fabric across those taut, muscular buns.
Think about anything else. The dog shit she’d just cleaned up was the perfect antidote to the sight of a lovely male ass.
Thirty awkward seconds later, Gunnar pointed toward a door. “Here you go.”
She smiled sweetly. “Thank you. You’ve been wonderful.”
He raised an eyebrow, acutely aware of her attitude. Whatever.
Two minutes into a very vigorous hand wash, her phone rang with Darth Vader’s theme (switched while here in Chicago as no way could she get away with that in LA). Allegra’s face appeared on the screen, and Sadie answered her on speaker because she’d already let three calls go to voice mail on the ride over.
“Hi, Allegra, I’m—”
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling forever! Never mind. I need you to book my flights to New York for the Selfie Expo.”
“I already did that a month ago.”
“Yes, but did you get a flight for Ramon? He’ll be with me to check my energy levels. He thinks they’re much too low and that all this stress is the problem.”
Sadie bit her lip and counted to three. Ramon had insinuated himself into Allegra’s life as her chakra guru in the last three weeks, so no, she hadn’t booked Ramon’s flight before he was even present in her boss’s life. If she had time travel as a marketable skill she sure as hell wouldn’t be using it to manage Allegra’s love life.
“I’ll get on it. Business class?”
“I’m not going to have him sitting separately in coach, Sadie. I mean, really.” Sadie could see Allegra shaking her head.
“Of course!” Cheery, cheery, keep that smile. Allegra had a sixth sense for negative energy. “Consider it done. Anything else?”
“Have you listened to my voice mails? I’ve told you all the things I need to happen today to make sure the dinner party goes off without a hitch. The liquor delivery hasn’t arrived yet. Did you verify the time? And I have that meeting with that production company in Century City so I need you to call a car service for pick up at 11:30. It’s all in the voice mail, Sadie.” She sounded exasperated.
“I know. I’ve got everything on that list and I will take care of it all, I promise.”
Allegra tutted. “You know I still have my doubts about this remote working situation. I feel like your attention is divided, you know? I need you to be my right-hand woman, Sadie.”
“It’s only for another couple of weeks. I’ll be back in LA soon and you won’t even realize I was gone. We do so much of our work on our phones anyway.”
“It’s really not the same,” Allegra said, sounding miserable. “But I suppose I have to acknowledge you have personal issues. Ramon says that your energy is probably misaligned. People with your kind of problems are usually magnets for bad karma. All this negativity in your life is likely playing havoc with your chakra.”
I’ll play fucking havoc with your chakra.
But maybe Allegra had a point. She needed to think positive, and that started with putting better energy out there. Bring the good to her. “Allegra, did you get a chance to talk to Andie’s assistant about the clothing line? You said you, uh, might.”
Andie Caswell was a full-figured model/influencer with a huge following and a quirky design aesthetic that matched Sadie’s. Allegra had met her assistant at her candlelit yoga class and had dangled it before Sadie like
a Magnum ice cream bar.
“Not yet, it’s on my list,” Allegra said, which Sadie supposed she deserved.
“Oh, okay, thanks.”
“You know, you sound stressed, Sadie.” Of course she did. Her world had imploded. “I expect it’s not doing good things with your diet. We’ll check the yeast levels of your punani when you come back and—”
“Allegra, are you there? I think this connection is bad. I can’t hear you!” Sadie put the phone near a gush of water and ended the call.
Then she screamed, a Valkyrie yell that in an alternative universe would unleash hellhounds or mortal enemies. The mirror in front of her appeared to shimmer under the force of her decibel levels.
Gripping the sink’s sides, she expelled several yoga-quality breaths. It did no good.
There was nothing wrong with the yeast levels of her punani, not that anyone cared to find out in a meaningful way. Allegra enjoyed having an assistant who could never be a threat to her in the attractiveness stakes. She rarely missed a chance to tell Sadie how she could be treating her body better. (Sadie and her size 16 ass were not part of Allegra’s demographic.) Sadie didn’t care. Happy with her curves, she ate and felt healthy, and looked good when she made an effort. Like today.
Neither did she care for the power plays Allegra employed to keep a stiletto on Sadie’s neck. Holding the promise of her fashion contacts over Sadie’s head and never quite getting around to doing that favor. But for all that passive-aggressiveness, Sadie needed this job. Keeping on Allegra’s good side, especially as she now had to support another human in her household, was imperative. The last thing she needed was Allegra bad mouthing her all over town and damning Sadie’s efforts before she’d begun.
Sadie spent a few more minutes scrubbing every inch of her hands until they were raw, then headed outside. Her new bestie was waiting, casually leaning against the wall with his hands in sweatpants pockets. The supremely masculine pose drew her gaze to his trim waist, strong hips, and all that action in his groin area. She couldn’t help herself—his hands were right there!
She raised her gaze, the heat in her cheeks surely making her glow. He couldn’t have missed that unworldly bellow on the other side of the bathroom door but nothing on his face hinted at a reaction or even an acknowledgment that she’d been checking him out. He probably had women doing that all the time, like those hockey moms outside.
