by Amanda Cowen
“My arms, huh?” he asks, voice warm and still raspy.
I continue down his chest, biting back a triumphant smile over the way his breathing spikes, jagged and excited, under my touch. “I love your chest.”
He laughs. “Likewise.”
I look away, not wanting him to see the thoughts simmering in the back of my mind— the us together forever thoughts. Cash was cleared by his doctors to return to everyday life, and I want to believe he will stay clean. We are perfect together. Our love is perfect. Despite what I believed only nine months ago, he’s good for me. I feel sexy and unhinged. I feel wanted. I refuse to bog down my feelings with worries of what happened in the past, or inevitably, what could happen.
From now on, we are a team and I will be here to help him through this. And if I know anything about Cash, it’s that he values family. Hopefully he is able to see how he’s become like family to me, and that I am here for him wholeheartedly.
Cash sits up beneath me and sucks on my neck before moving his mouth to the shell of my ear. “I’m loving every minute of seductive Quinn, but I’m starving.”
I let my head fall back as I laugh, “And where to you suggest we go?”
“This little diner up the road. I know you are going to love it.”
Goose bumps exploded across my body, and my tea is forgotten again. “Let’s shower up and hit the road.”
_____________
Any doubts I have about whether Cash’s choice for breakfast would be a success, that maybe what he told me in the shower was all hype, is put to rest as I walk in to the diner.
The little bell over the door jingles as I step inside, and I stop in my tracks, eyes wide at the crowd filling the small diner. And not just old people, or locals like Cash, but families with children and obvious tourists with fanny packs and cameras. There are people spanning pretty much every age bracket. The diner isn’t very fancy on the inside. It’s outdated and rather tacky. The floor is linoleum and a weird tan color. The walls are a stark white with abstract paintings in random places. Navy colored booths with brown tabletops line the perimeters. A bar flows from one side of the room to the other, just like in the movies, with a kitchen seen through a tiny opening behind the bar.
“Cash? Is that you, sweet pea?” I turn to the voice on my right and see a tall, busty middle- aged woman standing at the register. She flicks her salt and pepper hair out of her weathered face before she wraps her arms around Cash’s neck.
“Bonnie!” Cash chuckles as he holds her in a warm embrace. “I was hoping I’d see you here.”
“You look fantastic, sweet pea. What are you doing in Thompson?” Bonnie says, watching me closely.
“Thanks, Bonnie.” Cash grins. “You look fantastic too.”
“Isn’t it still hockey season?” she asks.
“Yeah, but the Tornadoes didn’t make it to the play-offs. Plus, I’ve been off the ice for the past three months-”
“Oh, yeah,” Bonnie says. “I heard some terrible news about you. You suffered a concussion and were sent to rehab? You’ve got that drinking under control, I hope.”
“Yeah, I’m doing much better,” he says, and I can see a flash of relief on her face. “But I’d like to introduce you to someone. Bonnie. This is my girlfriend, Quinn. Quinn. This is Bonnie. A good friend of my mother’s.”
Bonnie gives me a quick once-over then extends her hand, “It’s very nice to meet you, Quinn.”
“Likewise.” I shake her hand.
“And I wasn’t a good friend of Marie’s. I was her best friend. I helped raise this little toot and his brother Cory.” She maneuvers out of our handshake and then leans over to Cash. “So the rumors I heard must be true then…no more Daniela?”
“Word travels quickly,” Cash says.
“It does when you’ve got the inside scoop from Anna.” Bonnie looks back to me and nods. “Wow. She’s real pretty, sweet pea. Almost too pretty for you.”
Cash winks at me. “She’s definitely too pretty for me.”
Bonnie grabs two menus from behind the register with a smile and her gaze shifts between the two of us. “Let me get you a table in my section.”
We follow Bonnie to a spot in the far right corner near the exit.
“What can I start you off with? Coffee? Tea?” she asks, as we slide into the same side of the booth.
“Two teas, please.” Cash tells her.
We never did end up drinking the pot of rooibos tea he made this morning.
“You betcha. Coming right up.”
Once Bonnie is out of sight, I turn and face Cash. “Bonnie seems nice. Is that why you brought me here? To meet her?” I ask with a cheeky grin.
But he doesn’t smile back. In fact, Cash seems lost in thought. He fiddles with the salt and pepper shakers, looking out the window away from me. “Bonnie is not why I brought you here.”
“Spill, Brooks.”
“This diner is important to me.” He turns to face me and reaches forward to enfold my hand in his. “The last time we were in Thompson, I really wanted to bring you here, but it didn’t exactly work out. I grew up in this diner. My mother worked here her entire life, with Bonnie. I used to sit up at the bar with Cory after school, right there.” He points to the stools closest to our table and sighs, lost in the memory. “Bonnie would feed us grilled cheese sandwiches and help us with our homework when my mother was on shift. This place makes the best eggs Benedict in the entire world.”
“Wow. That’s a bold statement.” I squeeze his hand, telling him I understand.
“It’s my mother’s recipe. She was an excellent cook.” His voice is stronger.
My eyes slide over an item on the menu called Brooks’ Burger. “Is there seriously a burger named after you?” I tease, flipping the menu around and point to the item.
Cash laughs. “My mother worked here. I’m a hometown hero. Of course there is a burger named after me.”
I shake my head, laughing too. “This diner may be important to you, but I think you totally brought me here to impress me.”
“I’ve already impressed you enough.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Last night…this morning… twice.”
“Two teas for the happy couple.”
I blink back up and meet Bonnie’s gaze. It occurs to me that I’m sitting with my legs in Cash’s lap, his hand resting a little too comfortably on my thigh.
Bonnie gives Cash a knowing smirk, “Eggs Benedict, sweet pea?”
“Yes, please.”
I order the same thing, and Bonnie takes the menus. “You know,” she says, “when Cash was a little boy, he was so damn sweet. Always picking wild flowers for his mother, and every day after school he’d sit up at that bar like an angel with Cory, waiting for her to finish her shift. Even as a teenager he’d come and help his mother clean up behind the bar and make drinks so she didn’t have to work so hard. You’ve got a real good man here. I’m happy to see him looking so happy.”
My heart swells. Cash blushes for the first time ever, and I register that while he might not look like he was paying attention, he heard every single word.
“Okay, Bonnie,” he says. “Thank you very much for pumping my tires.”
Bonnie chuckles. “Did he bring you to the Brooks Arena yet?”
“Brooks Arena? Is everything here named after you?” I’m the one wiggling my eyebrows at him now.
“Okay, Bonnie—”
She cuts him off. “The arena he had built for the kids of Thompson. Cash hasn’t brought you there yet?”
“Bonnie, please. Come on,” Cash begs.
“No,” Bonnie continues. “She needs to know what a great thing you did. The year Cash was drafted to the NHL he had an arena built in Thompson. Before it was built, all the kids in Thompson had to travel into St. Johns to play competitive hockey because we didn’t have an arena here.”
My eyes make the circuit of his entire flaming red face. “Why do you neglect to tell me all this stuff?” I scold him.
“I need to see this arena.” I close the distance between us, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Let’s get your eggs Benedict so Cash can show you what an amazing thing he did for this town.” Bonnie winks at him.
“Thank you, Bonnie,” he mutters as she disappears behind the bar.
We remain there for a moment—my lips against his shoulder, his face in my hair—before Cash seems to remember where we are. He straightens and I feel the absence of him immediately.
“Anything else I should know about?” I take a sip of my tea.
“Oh, yeah.” Cash places a kiss on the top of my forehead. “I should probably tell you… Bonnie’s a loud mouth.”
_____________
Cash’s limo driver pulls up to the arena five minutes outside of Thompson, and I’m already antsy to pop open the door and check out the inside. When the limo comes to a stop, I step out and cross the damp grass with Cash following behind me, right up to the sign that reads: BROOKS ARENA with the following quote underneath: Practice puts brains in your muscles – Cash Brooks.
I smile to myself and then turn to face him. “So this is it…Brooks Arena.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yup. This is it. I didn’t name it that, you know. It wasn’t a condition to get the money.”
“I know,” I say, smiling up at him.
His blue eyes dip down to my mouth, as if he’s considering kissing me. He looks giddy now, proud, and damn sexy in the sunlight. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” I say, giggling.
He nods, opens the door, and walks inside, leading me through an entryway, past a concession stand, through another set of doors and into an ice hockey rink with at least enough seating for two hundred people. I turn and look around the arena to see the wall to my right is filled with framed hockey jerseys. Each jersey belongs to Cash, for every team he has ever played on from the time he was a child to adulthood. The last jersey hung at the far end of the wall is his Tornadoes jersey.
I want to reach up, cup his face in my hands, and kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone before. Instead I say, “I think what you’ve done for your town is amazing. You did something very selfless and inspiring.”
He shrugs. “I grew up with my mother having to drive me two hours into St. John’s for me to play competitive hockey. I know the struggle. The kids in this town deserved their own arena. I’m happy I was able to give it to them.”
When he straightens, I can see a hint of a blush on his face beneath the shadow of his baseball cap. “Since we’re here…want to go for a skate?”
“We don’t have skates,” I say.
“They have a skate rental.” He nods toward the concession area. “Come on, Mittens. You owe me a skate.”
Cash leads me to a storage room door and pulls a key out from his pocket. He disappears inside and reappears moments later with two pairs of skates and a big smile.
The arena is empty, the lights above the rink are dimmed, and the heaters around the bleachers are definitely turned off. It’s so cold, my toes are numb. Cash pulls me onto the ice, and the second the blades of my skate’s touch down on the icy surface, I wobble forward and he catches me with ease in his strong arms.
He chuckles. “When’s the last time you went for a skate?”
“When I was a child.” I steady myself against the boards.
“Your dad was a player. Her never taught you to skate?”
“I think that’s obvious. I’m scared I’m going to wipe out.”
He watches me for a moment, playfully smirking. “I won’t let you fall.” He skates to me and presses his palms down on the boards, caging me against the glass.
He kisses the top of my head, like I’m a little girl. I slide my hands up his stomach, his chest, his shoulder, pulling myself up his body until I can press a little kiss to his smiling mouth.
“Come on,” he says. “Hold my hand. I’ll go slow.”
I clutch tight, and Cash keeps his promise, as he slowly guides me around the ice. He twirls me, pulls me, and spins me, giving me tiny kisses whenever he can sneak one on my cheek. We laugh at how pathetic I am on skates, and when he picks up speed, I squeal and he laughs, loving every minute of it. Eventually I gain enough confidence for Cash to let go of me so I can skate off on my own. I love the fun and flirty air between us, how he watches me, eyes steady and lids growing heavy.
I skate around him, shaking my booty in an attempt to tease him. Cash skates up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He presses a kiss to the back of my neck and I spin around to face him.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he says.
I watch him reach under the hem of my shirt, and I close my eyes as his hand glides up the inside of my ribcage, around to my breast. I gasp when he gently caresses my breast.
“I’ve been holding it in all day…” He circles my nipple. “Waiting for the perfect moment.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he breathes. He reaches under my shirt with his other hand, and wraps his fingers around my hip, squeezing. “My agent called me this morning. Before I left for rehab, I told him to see about the possibility of a trade. The Boston Hacker agreed on a deal.”
“Seriously?”
He looks up at me, smiles a genuine smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Seriously, Mittens. I’m moving to Boston.”
“Wait?” I swallow. “I don’t have to transfer?”
His expression straightens, and he blurts, “I was never going to let you transfer.”
Reeling from this, I slide my hands into his hair and pull him into me. “This is the best news ever.”
“This is a fresh start for us.” He tilts his chin to look down at me. “I’m having all my stuff shipped up to Boston as we speak.”
I squeal and kiss him. “I’m so happy.”
I bite my lip, wanting to unload of my angst about the last three months: worrying about his recovery, using school for a distraction, and then becoming so absorbed in uncertainty of our future I feared I would want so much more than either of us could manage. And now he’s telling me he was traded to Boston. I close my eyes, thinking about my education, and how much I’m ready for this fresh start, and for us to be together despite all of our obstacles. Now we have the easiest path forward. Living in the same city—it makes a real relationship between us possible.
“Will you move in with me?” he asks, squeezing his hand around my hips so I’ll look up at him.
“Yes!” I wish more than anything I wasn’t wearing skates so I could jump up and down with joy.
He kisses my jaw. “As soon as we get back, we’ll start house hunting. You can pick out whatever house you want.”
“For real?”
“Yes, for real.” Cash’s eyes seem to gleam with victory.
I feel like I’m the one who won. I pull his face to my lips, deeply kissing every inch of his beautiful mouth—and he kisses me back, passionately. I can’t wait to start our new life.
Together.
Chapter 21
Quinn
I wake to the feeling of lips pressed carefully to my forehead, and force my eyes open. The sky directly above me isn’t an illusion I’ve been imagining the past month. Our bedroom is on the second floor of our traditional Boston two-story townhouse, and a skylight over the bed lets in the early morning sun. It curls across the footboards, bright but not yet warm. Along the far wall of our bedroom are two French doors that Cash has left open to a small balcony outside. A warm breeze stirs through the room, carrying the sounds of the street below.
I turn my head, “Hey.” My voice sounds like sandpaper rubbed across metal. His smile makes my chest do a fluttery, flipping thing. I still can’t believe he’s mine, and that this beautiful townhouse is our home.
The past month has been a dream come true. Even though hockey season is ove
r, and the playoffs have come to an end, Cash transitioned amazingly into our new life in Boston and onto his new team, the Boston Hackers. He’s been attending his post-addiction recovery program three times a week, and he’s been working with a personal hockey trainer during the off-season to improve his overall game. He’s been very focused and determined, and I am very proud of him.
I’m happy to be done my first year of my MBA program at Harvard. I’ve secured a great summer marketing internship at Gemstone Press, a jewelry manufacturer in Boston. My Etsy site keeps me really busy, and I’ve been able to support myself and pay for my education without having to rely on my father or trust fund.
Cash’s legal divorce with Daniela finalized last week. Cash told me he’s been trying to contact her to make sure she’s doing okay, but apparently she hasn’t been answering his calls. In their settlement, she ended up being able to keep her condo in Las Vegas, and with her lawyers help, she was able to secure a U.S. work Visa for an entire year. Hopefully she’s doing well, even though Cash no longer funds her shopping habits.
“I’m off to practice,” he whispers. “A pot of coffee is on the stove.”
I smile and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
He runs a hand through my matted curls and down my bare backside. “See you around lunch time.”
“Don’t forget Lyndsey and Louis are coming today.”
This will be their first time visiting us in our new home in Boston. I’m super excited to have family here for an entire week. I haven’t seen Lyndsey in quite some time, and even though I am now on speaking terms with my father, he still has yet to come and visit us.
“I didn’t forget.” Cash’s eyes make the circuit of my face and down over my entire body, and he says, “I’ll be home before their plane lands. I promise.”
