Penalty Play

by Lynda Aicher

  “I don’t understand why this is so important to you.”

  “Me neither. But it is.”

  Music blared from a passing car, an indistinguishable tune pounding into the night. He kept his focus on her though. Her face was a blank mask that hid whatever was going through her head.

  “Lunch. Thursday. One o’clock.” Her small smile let his breath expel in a long release. “Does that work for you?”

  He did a mental check of his preseason game schedule and nodded. He’d be in town that day. He’d make it work even if it didn’t. “Perfect. Near your school?” Her surprised look had him filling in the gaps. “Max told me where you went.”

  “Oh. Right. That sounds good.”

  He tugged his phone out of his pocket. “Can I get your number? In case something changes?” He added the last when she hesitated. “And to finalize our plans.”

  Her disgruntled exaggeration of a sigh had him grinning. He had her. At least for one meal. And that was enough right now. Plus her number. She tugged her pack around to dig her phone out of the front pocket. He rattled off his number when she asked.

  “What’s your last name, Henrik?”

  “Grenick.” He spelled it for her out of habit.

  His phone pinged and his grin spread at her text message. Jacqui Polson. I’ll see you at one Thursday.

  Excellent. He turned off his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. His heart was definitely lighter, and the week ahead didn’t seem quite so long now that he had something to look forward to.

  She gave him a smile and ducked around him. “I have to get to work.”

  “Okay.” He let her go, watching her until she reached the store entrance. “I’ll be in touch,” he called out when she looked back.

  “Good night, Henrik.”

  “Good night, Jacqui.”

  Her shoulders shook with her silent laugh and her grin was wide when she stepped into the building. He stared at the doorway for a long moment, his own grin straining his face. He had a date. With Jacqui.

  Now he just had to get through the week and make sure she didn’t bail on him.

  Chapter Four

  The evening news broadcast drifted into the kitchen from the family room where Jacqui’s parents watched TV, their evening routine set since the kids had become old enough to do the dishes. Jacqui shoved her sleeves up and started filling the sink with warm water.

  “I said I was going to wash,” her brother grumbled.

  “You snooze, you lose,” she dished back.

  Aiden nudged her shoulder when he passed to grab the dishtowel out of the cupboard. “You know I hate drying.”

  “Tough.” She hated drying too. It was an old argument dating back to their childhood. It’d been known to get heated back then, but was now a friendly bickering that warmed instead of angered her.

  “How’ve you been?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

  “Good.” She shot him a smile and grabbed a pan to plunge into the water. “You?”

  He shrugged. “The same.” Aiden was two years older and the closest to her in age.

  “Nothing new going on?”

  “Nope.” He took the clean pan from her hand and started drying. “Work’s kept me busy.” She caught the tone of his voice and stayed quiet. He had something more. “I’m looking for a new place to live though.”

  She kept her smile to herself. Her mother would be proud since she’d learned that handy trick from her. That woman had pulled more truth out of her five kids by staying silent than forcing them to talk.

  “Yeah?” she asked. “How come?”

  Another shrug along with a frown. She set the pan in the water and turned to him. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it. Aiden had been both her best friend and nemesis growing up. Their bond had strengthened after he’d donated his bone marrow to her, him being the only one in their family who’d been a match. He was more important than whoever was on the phone.

  He busied himself over-drying the pan before he finally set it on the counter. His shoulder-length hair fell forward to block his face before he tucked it back, his earrings flashing in the light. Always the rebel of the clan, he’d stretched that status to include piercings and tattoos after she’d survived her second battle with leukemia.

  “What’s going on?” She tipped her head to get a better look at him but couldn’t see much.

  He grabbed the pan and crouched to put it away beneath the counter. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

  “Right.” She snorted her disbelief and returned to washing. “And I’m Cinderella. Why are you moving? Sheila kicking you out?”

  He’d been living with his current girlfriend for the last six months. Before that it’d been a buddy and prior to that, another girlfriend. Aiden was the king of couch surfing, something that annoyed most of her family. Another sign of his irresponsible nature, according to their oldest brother.

  “Nah.” He flashed his patented arrogant grin to add charm to his bad-boy look as he stood. That smile had gotten him out of more than one bad situation. Even their mother had been known to succumb to the power of it. “It’s just time to move on.”

  She shot him a disbelieving look and handed him another dish.

  “What?” He rolled a shoulder and focused too hard on his task.

  “Is she getting too clingy for you?” Jacqui had predicted this when Sheila had been over for Sunday dinner three weeks ago. There’d been one too many hints about rings and summer weddings. A single comment was too many in Aiden’s book.

  “Something like that,” he mumbled. “So, what about you? Any men in your life?”

  His quick rejoinder didn’t fool her, but she went with it. “You know I don’t have time for a guy.”

  He nailed her with a dead-on serious look. “But you have to have time. You know this, Jac.”

  Her stomach dropped away with her heart. Damn him. She swallowed, clamping down on the ache that swelled up her throat. She scrubbed at the pan, water splashing down the front of her shirt to irritate her more. Who was he to push her when he was a dedicated commitment-phobe?

  “Sorry.” He laid a hand on her shoulder and waited until she stopped attacking the helpless pan. She gulped in a breath, squeezed her eyes closed and tried to bury the flash of bitter hurt.

  She didn’t resist when he eased her around and folded her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he said into her hair, arms tightening. She reluctantly wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled his solid presence. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “At least you talk about it,” she mumbled into his chest. The rest of her family ran on the belief that talking about anything to do with her cancer would bring it back. Again. The third time being the one she wouldn’t conquer. And December was looming, the weight of her yearly tests coupled with her eight-year remission anniversary hanging over them.

  “But you don’t need me to push you.”

  “If you don’t, who will?” She stepped back, a wan smile covering the hurt that lingered in her heart. Being reminded of the ticking clock on her compromised reproductive system always stirred up the residual anger that lingered. Life had knocked her around, but she wasn’t out. She couldn’t forget that.

  “Hey.” He nudged her chin up until she was forced to meet his eyes. “I’m your buddy in this, remember?” He tapped her chest where her chemo port scar was hidden beneath her shirt. “You can always talk to me about it.”

  Her phone vibrated again, and she used it as an excuse to move away—and change the subject. There were two texts waiting from Henrik.

  Does the Blue Grill work for lunch?

  You’re not backing out on me, are you?

  And here was the timely reminder she needed. Her soft laugh puffed out before she remembered her brother was watching her.

  “I know that smile,” Aiden teased. “You do have a hot date, don’t you?” He poked at her ribs until she ducked away, giggling. She’d always been ticklish, and he
knew exactly where her most sensitive spots were. “Who is it?”

  “Stop.” She spun away, gasping for air as she shoved at his hands.

  He swiped his hair back, grinning like a fool. “Aw. Come on. I can keep a secret.”

  “It’s nothing,” she insisted, holding her cell phone out of reach when he made a grab for it. “Aiden,” she shrieked when he lunged for her again.

  “Aiden James!”

  The sharp reprimand from their mother had them both freezing. Jacqui’s eyes went wide and her lips clamped closed to hold in her laugh. They might be adults, but their mother still ruled the house. One call from the other room, and the guilt hit them like caught kids.

  “You too, Jacqui Ann. I know you’re not innocent, whatever’s going on.”

  Aiden pointed at her, head bobbing. She smacked his finger away.

  “And there’d better not be a mess in there when you’re done.”

  “Yes, Mom,” they singsonged in unison.

  Jacqui cracked a wide smile and shoved around Aiden to reach the sink. She set her phone on the window ledge and flicked water at Aiden for good measure.

  “Hey.” He wiped the water off his face and scowled back at her. “Mom said to behave.”

  “I wasn’t the one causing trouble.”

  “Bull crap. You were usually the cause, only us boys took the blame.”

  There was truth to that, so she couldn’t disagree. After she’d been diagnosed with leukemia for the first time when she was five, all four of her older brothers had become her defenders. She’d had a pretty charmed—if a bit sheltered and claustrophobic—childhood.

  If you didn’t count the cancer.

  “So.” He nudged her. “Who was the text from?”

  Persistent, overbearing, nosy…brothers. Her sigh was heavy with love and annoyance. “Just someone I met.” A very hot, gruff, a bit bumbling someone who’d been stuck in her head for days.

  “Oh? Someone or a guy?”

  “A guy is someone.”

  “So it is a guy.” His excitement was entirely too over-the-top.

  She rolled her eyes, faking her exasperation. “Will you ever grow up?”

  His smile faded, and she instantly regretted her words. She was the one who didn’t pester him about that. “Not until I have to.”

  “Don’t bother,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially. “It’s overrated.” She grabbed the last dish and quickly scrubbed it clean. Her mother still cooked for seven even though her brothers had all moved out years ago. Jacqui was only there to save money. It’d probably break her mother’s heart when she finally moved out.

  Or her parents might dance naked around the living room in joy. And that was a visual she didn’t need. She shook her head, chuckling to herself. She handed the final dish off and unplugged the sink.

  “His name’s Henrik,” she said casually as she rinsed out the sink.

  “Henrik?” Aiden rolled the name out. “Sounds German. Is he a foreigner?”

  “No.” She frowned. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a foreign accent.” A slight New England one maybe, if she listened for it.

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  And here came the twenty questions—exactly why she hadn’t wanted to say anything. “The music store.” But she also trusted her brother, and it was fun to talk about Henrik and share her cautious excitement with someone.

  “Is he a musician then or fellow student?”

  “Neither.” She dried her hands off and faced her brother. “He plays hockey.”

  That got Aiden’s attention, like she figured it would. She hadn’t exaggerated to Henrik when she’d said her family were hockey junkies. None of her brothers had ever gone anywhere in the sport outside of rec leagues and the high school team, but they were all avid players and fans.

  He looked her over, a scowl overtaking his surprise. “What do you mean, ‘he plays hockey’? Don’t tell me he’s a college boy hoping for his shot at the pros.”

  “And what would be wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, except he won’t stick around.”

  “Really?” She tossed the towel at him. “I haven’t even gone on a date yet, and you’re already marrying me off. And you’re one to talk, Mr. Non-commitment.”

  He shrugged, not phased. “I’m different…”

  She rounded on him. “If you say because you’re a guy, I’m going to deck you.”

  His hands went up. “Down, boy.”

  She scanned the counter for something to throw at him but came up empty. Why did she bother? She grabbed her phone off the ledge and spun away. So much for talking to Aiden.

  “Hey.” He grabbed her arm loosely. “Don’t storm off. I was only joking.” She halted even though she could’ve shaken him off and let him turn her around. She stuck her tongue out at him just because she could. His laughter brought out her own. “Better. Now tell me about Henrik. Where does he play hockey?”

  She stepped back to lean against the pantry door, unlocked her phone and looked at Henrik’s text stream. They’d exchanged a few texts since she met him Sunday, but nothing overly enlightening. A smile still bubbled up from her chest, that silly giddy sensation tingling over her.

  “His last name’s Grenick,” she said, playing with Aiden a bit longer.

  “What?”

  Her hand froze over her phone at his startled cry, gaze lifting to stare at his gaping mouth. Well, that had certainly gotten a reaction. If his eyes could bulge, she was certain they would be. Now what did it mean? She dropped her smile and tossed out, “What what?”

  “Henrik Grenick?” Aiden took a step toward her, only to spin around and stalk to the counter, a whole two steps away.

  She wasn’t completely stupid. She’d looked Henrik up when she’d gotten home that first night. She knew exactly who Henrik was now. But this was fun.

  Aiden whipped back around, mouth still hanging open. “Henrik Grenick. As in Roller, the Glaciers’ starting defenseman? That Henrik Grenick?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so.” Then tapped out a text reply to Henrik.

  “You guess so?”

  Her smile refused to stay hidden. She sent the text to Henrik. Sounds good. See you there at 1.

  “What’s the big deal?” she asked Aiden.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Aiden,” their mother called right on cue. “Language.”

  He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, head shaking, hands clamped on his hips. Oh yeah, this was definitely fun. Meeting Henrik for lunch was worth it just for this.

  “Nope.” She flashed a cheesy grin and waved her phone at him. “I got his text right here.”

  His hand whipped out. “Let me see that.”

  She jerked her phone to her chest. “No way.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face then yanked the refrigerator open and came out with a beer. One hard twist, and the cap was off, bottle at his lips. Two long gulps, and he lowered the beer to glare at her. “Out with it. All of it.”

  Uh-oh. She’d poked him too much. This was the overprotective bear that’d snapped at every guy who’d dared to speak to her in high school. Not that there’d been a lot of guys doing that after the leukemia had returned. Nobody wanted to date the sick girl. Yet Henrik was interested in her now.

  She fisted her hands on her hips and glared right back at Aiden. “Weren’t you the one who was just telling me to find a guy so I could procreate while I still could?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No ‘yeah buts,’” she interjected. “You don’t get to change the rules because…what?” She straightened. “What’s wrong with Henrik?”

  “Besides the fact that he only dates glamorous playgirls?”

  “He does?” She hadn’t done that much research on him. “Huh. That’s interesting.” Renewed doubts clenched tight and hard in her stomach.

  “And disturbing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not that!” Aiden took an
other long drink of his beer, completely oblivious to how his remark had cut her.

  She swallowed, hands lowering to her sides, the fight leaving her. She’d been vacillating between fantasizing about Henrik and wondering why he’d been so insistent on having lunch with her. Was this just another game to him? Even Aiden didn’t think she was worth Henrik’s time.

  Her phone vibrated with another text, but she didn’t look at it.

  “I know I don’t have a lot to offer him, but he asked me and I accepted.” She shook her head when Aiden opened his mouth to speak. “I’m not naive or full of dreams, you should know that. I don’t expect insta-love or…anything really. It’s lunch, Aiden. Nothing more or less.” Couldn’t she just enjoy it?

  Aiden’s scowled faded into a frown with her words. He lowered the bottle in time with his head. “Damn. I didn’t mean it like that, Jac. You know that.” He looked up, eyes pleading. “You have a lot to offer any man lucky enough to catch you.”

  She snorted. “Catch me?”

  “You think none of us have noticed your complete lack of boyfriends? I’m not the only commitment-phobe in the family.”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze, not with the truth glaring back at her. The random pattern on the worn linoleum was oddly comforting to stare at. How many times had she focused on the gray squares instead of meeting her mother’s knowing eyes?

  “Hey.” He’d gotten close enough that his sock-covered toes invaded her line of sight. “Just be careful, all right?”

  The mirth bubbled out hard and short. “When am I not?” Although her family had never coddled her, she’d always carried their unspoken responsibility to stay safe. Don’t be wild or crazy. We almost lost you twice, don’t make us worry more.

  He sighed and nudged her shoulder. “You’re right.” When she didn’t respond, he nudged her again, harder. She rocked with the movement, clamped down on her smile when he did it a third time.

  “Stop.”

  “Are you going to make me?”

  “Jerk.” She glared at him from beneath her brows. “Don’t you have to work tonight?”

  He checked the clock. “Not ’til nine.”