Dax

by Sawyer Bennett

  I had to take about five steps farther away from the bus, then turn my back on it lest anyone see the expression on my face.

  “Excuse me?” I’d asked.

  “How big is it?”

  “Well, darling,” I drawled. “You’ve seen it up close. Had your hand around it. Your mouth on it. You should know.”

  She fucking giggled into the phone, and I smiled as big as I did when I’d scored those goals tonight. Seems there are even better things than hockey.

  After some digging, turns out Regan had been talking to another woman—my money is on Willow, but Regan wouldn’t give her name up—and the dick size came up. I had to tell Regan I had never actually measured myself, so she was just going to have to be left wondering until we were together again.

  “I’d give a hundred bucks to know what you’re thinking right now,” Erik says, his voice vaguely penetrating through my pleasant thoughts of Regan.

  I blink before giving a blasé shrug, then reach for another nacho.

  “I know that look,” Erik says with a leering grin as he points a finger right at my face. My eyes dart over to Bishop, who’s smirking as he watches.

  “What look?” I ask as I give my attention to Erik.

  “I know that look, too,” Legend pipes up. He’s also grinning. Frankly, it’s nice to see on his face. He’s been through the fucking ringer here lately since Pepper had been shot and Charlie kidnapped. But he’s on to brighter days for sure.

  “What fucking look?” I growl.

  “You’re seeing someone,” Erik says emphatically with a nod. “Someone special.”

  “Am not,” I mutter as I take a sip of my beer. “And mind your own business.”

  “Totally seeing someone,” Legend drawls, rubbing his jaw in contemplation. “He can’t hide it.”

  “So who is she?” Erik asks, leaning his elbows on the table. “What’s her name? Where did you meet her? When should we schedule a group date with all of us?”

  My head snaps toward to Bishop. “What the fuck? Did you say something?”

  “Didn’t say a word, dude,” he replies, but now I’ve just totally outed myself.

  “Christ,” I mutter as I glance between Erik, Legend, then back to Erik. Exhaling, I admit, “It’s Regan.”

  Both men blink in surprise, and Legend says, “You’re fucking kidding?”

  I shake my head, digging through the plate of nachos for a loaded one. “Not kidding. And in the interest of full disclosure, I married her already.”

  “Holy shit,” Erik drawls.

  Legend whistles low in amazement. “You don’t play around, do you?”

  “There’s a good reason I had to marry her so quickly,” I explain before realizing how that sounds when Erik and Legend both go quite pale. I rush to explain what I can to them. “She’s not pregnant, so get those expressions off your face. But there is a very good reason we needed to marry, but I can’t tell you what it is. Just know I believe Lance would have approved.”

  “Okay,” Legend says with his head tilted in confusion. “I believe you when you say it’s a good reason. Even more so that you can’t tell us what it is, but there’s no mistaking the look on your face. You care about her.”

  “Of course I care about her,” I snap. “I’ve known her since she was born.”

  “You’re totally having sex with her,” Erik says, and Bishop elbows him in the ribs. He shoots him a glare before giving me his attention again, his tone a little more subtle. “What I mean is you look totally smitten with her. An intimate type of smitten, and I think I’m safe in saying this to be true since I’ve had that same damn look on my face when Blue is around. Same for Legend and Bishop, I’m sure.”

  “Well, congratulations, Sherlock. You have me all figured out.”

  “Why so bitter about it?” Legend teases. “This sounds like cause for celebration. Another beer at least.”

  “I’m not bitter about it.” My denial is fast and strong. There is absolutely no bitterness for my situation.

  Confusion? Yes.

  Regret? Maybe. I mean, if I end up hurting Regan, sure.

  Curiosity as to what more could be? Abso-fucking-lutely.

  “Look,” I say with a sigh. “Can we talk about something else? No offense, but things are just new and confusing and I’m figuring shit out. When I know something, I’ll let you assholes know. I promise. But for now, I have to keep some stuff close to the vest with regards to Regan.”

  There’s silence around the table as they share exchanged glances of concern but acceptance of my request.

  “Whatever you need, bud,” Erik assures me. “We got your back.”

  “You bet your ass we do,” Legend adds.

  “Always,” Bishop intones, then snags a passing waitress. “Can we get four more beers?”

  “Since we’re changing subjects,” Erik says as he picks up a chip, studies it, and determines there isn’t enough good stuff on it so he drops it. “Everyone’s coming to Billy’s party on Sunday, right?”

  There are resounding “yups” around the table. Billy is Blue’s brother who has a form of cerebral palsy that has him confined to a wheelchair. He lives in a really nice group home—his choice—but spends a great deal of time at Erik and Blue’s house as they’ve spent a lot of money and effort into making it handicapped accessible. He’s a great guy—funny, smart, and always a joy to be around.

  “Guess who else is coming?” Erik asks with a huge, knowing grin on his face.

  “Tacker,” I guess, but I bet Legend and Bishop were thinking the same thing.

  Erik nods enthusiastically. We’ve all been struggling to find ways to spend time with Tacker. He won’t come to any team events, and he’d shunned my invitation to dinner. But Tacker really likes Billy. They sort of have a bond that none of the other players have with him. The one thing we’ve all figured out with Tacker is he has a soft spot for those who can’t help themselves, which puts Billy and Charlie on his list of people he’ll actually leave the house for.

  This is, of course, great news. We need to make a concerted effort at Billy’s party to make Tacker understand he could still be a very vital part of this team if he just wanted to.

  CHAPTER 21

  Regan

  The Miles and the Monahans hail from the outskirts of Ann Arbor, just west of the city. I flew into Detroit, then took a thirty-five-minute Uber ride to the Monahan’s house.

  Dax had wanted to pick me up. He’d played in Chicago last night, and the team flew into Detroit this morning on their fancy private plane. He has the day off, so he rented a car and headed straight to his parents’ house to wait for me to arrive.

  To say I’m a little nervous is an understatement. Which is silly, I get that. The Monahans are like family to me. I’ve known them my entire life. Our parents were best friends. As we kids all played, went to school, and spent holidays together.

  When my parents died in a car accident, Linda and Calvin Monahan, and their kids, were as devastated as Lance and I were. I know Lance, Linda, and Calvin spent a great deal of time talking about whether I should stay with them rather than move to New York where Lance was playing for the Vipers. We all gave it serious consideration, but when it boiled down to it, Lance was my brother and I wanted to be with him more than the Monahans. He changed so much of his life to take on the role of my legal guardian, and we became tighter than ever.

  But Linda, Calvin, Dax, Willow, and Meredith all stayed a constant presence in my life. We visited as often as we could and talked almost daily either via social media, text, or phone.

  So yeah… silly I’d be nervous to see them.

  But I am because they know the whole truth of what is going on with me. Well, not the entire truth but enough. Dax offered to fill his parents in ahead of time about my illness and how he’d married me so I could get insurance benefits. I felt like such a chicken, but I gladly took him up on it. He assured me they would be totally fine with it, which deep in my gut I already kne
w to be true. I think my fears stem from the fact we’ve been duplicitous for a time so there’s some anxiety in finally coming clean about things.

  My Uber driver pulls up in front of the Monahan home. It’s two story, the bottom done in brick and the top in white fiber cement siding with blue shutters. The color of the shutters has changed over the years, and I like this new shade. Our neighborhood would be what I call classic lower middle class, with most of the houses built in the sixties and remodeled over the years to remove shag carpeting and replacing it with laminate. My childhood home was remarkably similar, except it was all cement siding done in a beige color with black shutters and sits one block east of here. I haven’t been back there since my parents died and Lance sold it. We used that money to help pay for my undergraduate degree.

  Which is funny. Lance made enough to pay for my education ten times over, but we both sort of felt Mom and Dad would have wanted the money from the house to go specifically toward that. They worked hard to give us a good life, and those fruitions helped me to become a nurse.

  When the Uber comes to a stop, I thank my driver and slide out of the seat. He pops his trunk but doesn’t make any effort to help me get my suitcase from the back. It’s no big deal as it’s just a rolling carry-on and easily manageable. When I have it out and the Uber is rolling away, I turn to see Dax emerging from the front door of his parents’ house to greet me.

  He’s got on jeans and a thick cable-knit sweater in dark gray. It’s freezing out, but he didn’t put on a coat to come out and meet me.

  I wait on the sidewalk as he comes nearer, struck almost stupid by how ridiculously handsome he is. A wave of giddiness crashes through me as I realize… this man is mine.

  For now, anyway.

  It amazes me that someone like him could be interested in someone like me. Attracted to someone like me.

  Let’s face it… I come with a whole slew of messy problems—and who wants to be saddled with someone who faces such a serious medical condition?

  For now, I just accept it for what it is, letting myself be struck by the enormity of how much Dax Monahan dazzles me.

  “Bout time you got here,” he says gruffly, and I’m stunned when he wraps his arms around me, lifting me in a big hug. My arms go automatically around his neck, and I squeeze tightly as he buries his face in my neck. Lifting my gaze slightly to the house, I see Linda and Willow with their faces pressed against the glass peering out at us. Calvin wouldn’t dare to be so nosy, but I’m sure he’s just waiting on a report from the women.

  When Dax loosens his hold and lets me slide to the ground again, he gives me a critical once over with worried eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good,” I reply with a confident smile.

  “No side effects from the treatment yesterday?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’d tell me if so?” he prods.

  “Nope,” I reply with a sassy grin.

  “You need a spanking,” he mutters as he picks up my suitcase. “But I better get you inside. Everyone is dying to fawn all over you.”

  “So you told them everything?” I ask, worrying at my lower lip.

  “Well, I told them about the PNH and us getting married. Willow had already blabbed about us.”

  “What about us?” I inquire.

  Dax takes my hand. Squeezes it. “That we’re not just friends.”

  I’m fairly sure my hand just turned sweaty. “And how did they take it?”

  “A lot better than you having a serious medical condition. Mom’s obviously worried about you, so you should be prepared… she’s in full-on mothering mode right now.”

  I sigh with relief that it’s now all out in the open. “I’m okay with that. In fact, that sounds a little nice actually.”

  “Then come on,” he says, then tugs me across the front yard, up the porch steps, and into the house.

  No one is there to greet us. Probably didn’t want to get busted spying on us. Dax sets my suitcase down, and I follow him to the kitchen at the back of the house.

  Linda, Calvin, and Willow are all there waiting.

  Linda moves on me first, wrapping me up in a warm hug. I inhale the familiar floral perfume she always wears, and it feels a little like coming home to me.

  “You poor, sweet girl,” Linda croons as she just holds onto me super tight. “What you’ve been through. Had I known, I would have insisted you come back home and let me take care of you.”

  She releases me, leans back, and locks her eyes on me. “As it is, I’m proud of how strong you are, and of my son for stepping in to help you. He loved Lance and he loves you, and I’m so grateful for all of it.”

  I was not expecting words like that, and they punch me in the chest. In a good way. Painful, but good. Touching and relieving and reassuring all at once. It was probably the fact she said Dax loves me that caused the most feels, but I have to remember there are several types of love and his is born of obligation and duty.

  “Come here, you,” Calvin says gruffly, then I’m pulled away from Linda and lifted into a big bear hug that has me laughing as I squeeze him back.

  Calvin was a lot like my own dad. Short on words, big on actions. So when he lowers me to the ground and then bends so he can peer straight into my eyes, I’m surprised when he says, “We all have your back, Regan. We’re your family now.”

  My eyes immediately flood with tears, but then I’m being jerked into another hug by Linda, Calvin enveloping us both in his arms. We all start laughing when Willow rushes in saying, “Let me in on some of that action.”

  I’m stuck in the middle of a Monahan hug, and it feels good and right. I glance past Linda’s shoulder and see Dax leaning against the counter, hands pushed down into his front pockets. The smile on his face is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s packed full of emotion and maybe even a bit of pride in his family at this moment.

  We break apart, Calvin giving a gruff, semi-awkward cough as he steps away to lean against the kitchen counter beside his son.

  “Meredith will be coming over in a few hours after the kids get out of school,” Linda says as she moves over to the coffee pot. They always have some hot and ready to serve.

  “I was actually hoping to go to the cemetery,” I say, shooting a glance at Dax as I had not told him before of my desire to do this. “Think I could borrow your car?”

  “I’ll take you,” Dax says, smiling as he pulls the rental car keys out of his pocket and twirling them on his finger.

  MaryBeth and Justin Miles share a headstone, their ashes mingled and interred together below it. I kneel in the dried grass browned by winter, brushing a few stray blades from the granite. Dax comes to stand beside me, close enough his leg brushes against me.

  I was just fourteen when they died. Such a fragile age for a girl. Yet, Lance did an amazing job at making me feel safe and secure. I didn’t have to fear the future because I trusted in him to take care of me, which left me able to grieve my loss along with him.

  “I’m not sure I ever really thanked Lance for all he did for me after they died,” I say quietly as I stare at the headstone.

  “He knew,” Dax replies, squatting beside me.

  I nod, hopeful he’s right. “I need to make arrangements for his ashes to be buried here.”

  “I’ll help with that,” he replies, the strength in his voice infusing me. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll handle it for you.”

  I look over at him. “Thank you.”

  He smiles, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind me ear. “It’s nothing to thank me for. It would be my honor because I loved him, too.”

  “He loved you right back.” My nose stings, and I inhale a sniffle.

  It’s enough to have Dax’s arm come around my shoulder, then he’s pulling me to my feet and wrapping me in an embrace. It reminds me of just over four weeks ago when we stood in Lance’s apartment and Dax pressed me to tell him what was wrong in my life. I had shred myself into a thousand tears in h
is arms. He made it so easy for me to let go and just grieve. I had been trying so hard to be strong and bear everything with dignity and grace, and in just a matter of moments, Dax let me fall apart. I know he would never let me completely shatter.

  Standing here on my parents’ graves, having lost my brother not all that long ago, he makes it easy once again and I begin to weep. His arms tighten as I turn my face into his chest. Dax’s hand presses to the back of my head, a silent command to let it all out.

  I do, trying not to worry about leaving a snot trail on his coat.

  I snicker, then start laughing at the thought. Crying and laughing is a weird basket of emotions, and I decide to give in to more laughter since it’s the better of the two.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks, and I can hear the amusement in his voice.

  “I was just worried about leaving snot on your nice wool coat. I’m sure it’s expensive.”

  “I’m sure the dry cleaners can get it out,” he replies dryly.

  Giggling, I pull away to look up at him. His smile is soft as he gazes at me, and I almost melt when he wipes a tear from my face with his thumb, the chilly air turning my cheek frosty.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I say sincerely. I don’t like feeling weak or like I need to be cared for, yet this feeling of security he gives me feels too damn good to walk away from.

  “Don’t apologize, Regan,” he replies in a low voice. “You’ve been through so much this past month. Lost a brother. Gained an unexpected husband. Faced an uncertain future without lifesaving medical care, moved to a different state. I don’t know many people who wouldn’t be a complete mess. Yet, you keep trucking along with such a positive attitude. I’m proud of you. If you decide to break down periodically in my arms, just consider it a husbandly service I’m glad to perform.”

  “A service you were not looking to sign up for,” I point out. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for me.”

  Something flickers through Dax’s expression. An uncomfortable look, but it’s gone before I can even really analyze it. His lips curl up, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s been some benefits. Not exactly hard to hold a beautiful woman in my arms when she’s all soft, pliable, and susceptible to suggestion.”