by Lucy Score
“Coach Quinn and I are hungry!” Beau roared. “Who else is hungry?”
“I’m hungry!” Violet raised her hand enthusiastically.
Bristol was fairly certain Violet was being literal, but it was nice to see her getting into the spirit.
“Me, too,” Noah piped up. “Got any more crackers?”
“We don’t need crackers,” Beau shouted. “We eat Zombies!”
That got the rest of the team going. In seconds, he had the entire team on their feet chanting, “We’re hungry!”
He was a natural leader and, with his contagious enthusiasm, had the Bears fans on their feet joining the chant. She was staring at a gorgeous Apollo of a man working a bunch of kids into a competitive frenzy, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She glanced over her shoulder at her parents and Savannah wildly cheering. Savannah nodded in Beau’s direction, and Bristol nodded back. A sly, approving smile spread across her sister’s face.
“Okay! We’re gonna go out there, and we’re going to eat some Zombies! And then after the game, we’re going for ice cream or the reasonable equivalent if Hope Falls doesn’t have an ice cream place,” Beau announced. “Who’s with me?”
“Me!” the team screeched in pandemonium.
“Good! Now Coach Quinn and I are making some changes to the lineup. Huddle up!” They huddled around Beau as he handed out new assignments before they took the ice with newfound enthusiasm.
Bristol watched Violet skate to right wing and felt a fresh flutter of parental nerves rise up in her belly.
“Beau are you sure she should be up there?”
“Are you asking as an overprotective mother or a coach who doesn’t want to be showing favoritism?”
“Oh, God. Both?”
He slung an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Trust me, okay?”
“Well, you’ve never let me down before in the history of our acquaintance,” she joked.
She saw the shadow that passed over his face, but the referee was blowing her whistle, and the action started again.
The hungry Bears had obviously come to play this period. Tucker snatched the puck away from the Zombies’ offense and, with an unintentional but enthusiastic ricochet, fed it up toward Violet. Vi skated along the boards at full bore after the puck, and the crowd cheered when she got her stick on it.
But the cheers were short-lived. A Zombie ran into Violet at half speed, and together they went down in a tangle of sticks and limbs.
The fans “oohed” their disappointment… or sympathy. Bristol wasn’t sure which was which.
Violet regained her feet and threw a cheery wave in Bristol’s direction, which she returned weakly. Five minutes into the period, the Polar Bear fans were on their feet again. Noah had chugged his way up the ice unchallenged and was lining up a shot on goal. A Zombie defensive player appeared out of nowhere and scrambled for the puck.
In the clumsy exchange, the puck escaped through the player’s legs and slowly slid toward Violet.
“Take the shot, short stack!” Beau’s voice carried across the ice, and Bristol saw the determined set of Violet’s shoulders.
“Oh, crap. Oh, crap,” Bristol whispered.
Violet drew her stick up and back and let it fly. The puck sailed into the back of the net, and Bristol screamed along with the rest of the crowd. Violet turned around and stared at the bench in shock before she was mauled by all the Bears on the ice. The crowd was on its feet, and Bristol, in the heat of the moment, threw her arms around Beau’s neck.
He picked her up and spun her around while the crowd continued to cheer. Bristol waved to her parents who were on their feet jumping for joy.
“Vi-o-let! Vi-o-let!”
Bristol’s eyes welled up. “They’re cheering her name.” She just wanted them all to bask in the moment of pure joy, their first in so long. “My baby scored the first goal of the season, and they’re cheering her name.”
“Way to go, Coach,” Beau said against her ear, his beard tickling her neck.
“This was all you,” she grinned. “I’m buying you ice cream.”
“With hot fudge?” he asked, lowering her to her feet.
Bristol gave him a wink. “But not too hot. I don’t want it to burn my skin.” She enjoyed watching the realization wash over him and then a primal heat light up those green eyes.
“Remind me not to operate heavy machinery around you,” he said, quietly. “The persistent loss of blood flow to my brain is probably dangerous.”
“Do we really have to be there for ice cream? Can’t we just give Louisa the credit card and say ‘have at it’?” Bristol wondered.
Beau’s smile held all the dark promises of a night she wouldn’t soon forget, and she felt her own blood jump to simmering.
“I think there would be talk if we didn’t show up. The town might send out a search party and imagine what they’d walk in on,” he teased.
Bristol laughed, flushing at the thought. Tonight, she was taking Beau to bed, and she just might find a few missing pieces to herself in the whole enjoyable process. The anticipation was waking something inside her, something she thought had disappeared long ago.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The rest of the game pushed all thoughts of a private celebration to the back of Bristol’s mind. Beau’s new lineup seemed to unlock the hidden potential of every player. And by the final buzzer, Violet had scored a second goal, and on her final sprint up the ice, passed the puck to Noah for his first goal.
It was pandemonium in the Bears section.
“Listen,” Beau said, suddenly serious as parents—whose only hockey season excitement to date had been the time Tucker had fallen down and gotten so tangled in the goal’s net that someone had to break out the scissors—celebrated the thrill of victory. “I need to talk to you about something before… before.”
If he told her he was married, she was going to kill him with an ice skate.
“Mo-o-om!” Violet jumped into Bristol’s arms, nearly toppling her over. “Did you see?”
Bristol lost track of Beau as the team and parents met in a celebratory lump, clogging the aisles and stairs. While she chatted with all of the cowardly parents who had turned down the coaching spot, she heard someone calling Beau’s name. She watched Beau approach a boy from the other team and his parents.
The boy looked like he was staring at Santa on Christmas Eve as he reverently held up a piece of paper to Beau. She saw Beau sneak a glance around before angling his back to the crowd and taking the paper.
She was curious how he’d run into someone he knew when he was a virtual stranger in town, but her curiosity was shoved aside when her parents fought through the crowd to get to her.
Violet threw her arms around her Pops, and they began an animated discussion of just how awesome Violet and hockey were.
Mary slid her arm through Bristol’s and smiled. She wore ear warmers in a vibrant shade of purple with a matching scarf wound around her neck. “I wonder if they’re going to refreeze the ice after all the heat you and that Beau were throwing off.”
“Mother!” Bristol hissed, glancing around them.
“Honey, there’s no one in this arena who didn’t see those sparks.”
“Are we talking about Bristol and Beau?” Savannah jumped in, a soft pretzel in one hand and a coffee in the other.”
“Did you even see Violet’s goals?” Bristol glared at her sister’s smirking face.
“Just because I watched two goals does not mean I missed out on the fireworks off the ice. I saw the way he picked you up like he was going to carry you off to bed. It was hot. How long’s he in town?”
The implication was clear. Was Beau in town long enough for a roll in Bristol’s hay?
“He’s in town for a few more days, I think,” Bristol said, hoping the concrete under her feet would open up and she could escape this conversation.
“What’s he doing for Thanksgiving? He’s not spending it by himself, is he?” Mary demanded.
“I�
��m not sure—” Bristol began.
“Let’s ask him,” Savannah decided. She shoved her pretzel into Violet’s hands and cupped her free hand around her mouth to yell his name. When he looked up from his conversation with Justin Barnes, she motioned him over.
He made his way through the crowd to Bristol’s side, eyes wary.
“Beau, I’m Bristol’s sister Savannah, and this is our mom, Mary,” Savannah announced. “We want to know what you’re doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”
Beau eyed Bristol before answering. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“What about your sister?” Bristol asked.
“She’s spending Thanksgiving with our parents in Haiti.” The tightness around his mouth told her he wasn’t exactly thrilled about that. “But Levi and Shelby are doing up lunch at the B&B for their families. They invited me to join them if I wanted,” he continued.
“Don’t be silly,” Mary said, with a shake of her head. “You’ll have lunch with us.”
“Oh, I couldn’t impose—”
“I’m Italian. It’s my lifelong wish to feed people,” Mary insisted. “You wouldn’t deny me my lifelong wish, would you?”
Again, Beau’s green eyes slid to Bristol, silently begging for help.
“Vi and I would love it if you could come,” she admitted.
“And Dad will be thrilled with more testosterone,” Savannah interjected.
“Lunch is at one,” Mary said. “Plan to be there by noon.”
Beau stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Uh, how can I say no?” Bristol hid her smile, knowing the question wasn’t entirely rhetorical.
“Beau! Did you see?” Violet jumped out of her grandfather’s arms to dance around Beau.
“Two goals and an assist.” Beau offered up a high five. “To be honest, I’m not sure which I’m more proud of.”
Violet looked at her feet, her ears pink with pleasure. “I figured I already had two goals so why not let Noah take a shot?”
Bristol felt her heart swell with pride. Her kid was kind and fair and loyal. She had to be doing something right as a parent.
“You should be really proud of yourself, short stack. That’s team leadership there,” Beau told her, and Violet beamed up at him.
“Vi, Beau’s coming to Thanksgiving tomorrow,” Bristol told her daughter.
“Awesome! Hey, Dad!” Violet waved into the crowd.
Nolan Graber, decked out in a Polar Bears hoodie, grabbed up Violet in a bear hug. “Way to go, Vi-girl! You were awesome!”
Violet giggled as she struggled against his hold. “You’re crushing me, Dad!”
“Get used to it, kid. Heroes get crushed in celebration,” Nolan said, setting her down on her feet. “So guess what? Lissa got your goals on video.”
“No way!”
“Way!” Lissa beamed, balancing a sleeping Lyric on one hip.
Everyone was talking at once, but Bristol found herself focused on Beau. She knew her family situation could be hard to grasp from the outside. But she, Nolan, and Lissa had made parenting Violet their priority, and together they parented as a team.
“Beau, I’d like you to meet Nolan, Violet’s dad, and his wife, Lissa. Guys, this is Beau. He keeps rescuing me on the ice.”
Nolan offered an enthusiastic handshake. “Great to meet you, Beau. I’ve heard a lot about you around town.”
“Yeah, no one’s a stranger for long in Hope Falls,” Beau quipped.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Nolan joked.
Lissa offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet a friend of Bristol’s.”
“Dad, Beau’s coming to Thanksgiving tomorrow,” Violet announced.
“Awesome!” Nolan high-fived Bob. “More man power, right Pops Quinn?”
Bob Quinn leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t suppose you know six or seven other male yoga instructors you’d like to bring along?” Bob asked hopefully.
“Sorry, sir. Just me,” Beau laughed.
“Well, we’ll make do,” Bob said unconvincingly.
“Dad, it’s not that bad,” Bristol insisted. “Don’t scare Beau away.”
“Just how many women will be there?” Beau asked. But no one answered.
Lissa and Savannah each latched onto one of Bristol’s arms.
“If you’ll excuse us, we need to borrow Bristol for a second,” Savannah announced with her may-it-please-the-court smile.
They dragged her a few steps away.
“Girl, tell me you plan to see that man naked,” Lissa demanded, shooting an approving look over her shoulder.
Bristol covered the still-sleeping Lyric’s ears with her hands.
“Lissa,” she hissed.
“Don’t play all ‘I don’t kiss and tell’ with us,” Savannah warned her. “We’ve been one step away from signing you up for online dating for months now. If you tell me you don’t want to take his pants off, I’m driving you to the hospital and getting a neurologist to examine your head.”
Bristol threw another look over her shoulder at Beau who was engaged in conversation with her parents.
“Look, he’s coming over to my place tonight, so the sooner we wrap up this victory party and ice cream parade, the sooner I can rip off all his clothes and tell him all of the incredibly dirty things I want him to do to me!”
They stared at her with huge eyes and sky-high eyebrows. One of them started to make the high-pitched squeal that only adult women can muster, and then they were both hugging her.
“I have never loved you more than I do right now,” Lissa sighed happily.
“Thank God you’re not brain dead—” Savannah cut her own joke off mid-sentence.
“Huh,” Bristol said. “Our first brain dead joke since…”
Lissa looked hard at them both and nodded. “I think it went well.”
“I agree,” Bristol concurred.
“All right then. Let’s get you laid,” Savannah announced.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Lissa yelled, and she and Savannah began to herd the crowd toward the exit.
––—
Beau had never seen kids eat ice cream so fast. Fifty percent of the team was complaining of brain freeze, but Lissa and Savannah showed no mercy.
“Come on, guys! This is a competition! Who’s going to win?” Lissa cheered, bouncing the wide-eyed Lyric on her hip.
Coming off of a tie, apparently the team’s first non-loss of the season, the Polar Bears were charged for victory and ate with complete disregard to the side effects. He wondered how many would be puking in the car on the way home.
“Shovel it in, Dad,” Savannah prodded Bob. “You’re competing, too.”
Bristol, for her part, kept her mouth shut and flushed scarlet every time Lissa or Savannah rushed someone through their dessert.
Harry and Marlene Brooks, owners of Hope Falls’ ice cream parlor Two Scoops, enjoyed the chaotic consumption. Two Scoops was quintessential small town America with its candy striped awning outside and the white metal chairs inside. The ice cream cooler was full of all the standards and included a few dazzling options that suckered kids in with their fluorescent colors.
Beau tried to enjoy his scoop of Rocky Road, but all he could think about was his tangled up feelings for Bristol. Every time she looked at him with all the heat and the promise of pleasures to come, he lost his damn mind.
He ran through a dozen excuses for not telling her, considering and then rejecting each one. There was no getting around not telling her why he was here, why he came here looking for her.
Beau searched his memory banks for any other woman who had gotten to him like Bristol. There was no one. It wasn’t just her looks, which were stunning even at six in the morning. It was her rawness, her strength. The pain of her loss had left her vulnerable, but her resolve to keep going, to keep it together, was heroic in his eyes.
He wanted her, and he suspected that having her would only be the beginning of his infatuation with Bristol. He looked
up as Violet climbed into the chair opposite him. She’d abandoned her giggling crowd of friends near the front window.
“Do you like my mom?” Violet demanded over her two scoops of cookies and cream.
“What?”
She rolled her eyes with exasperation. “My mom? Tall, pretty, bossy? Do you like her?”
“I don’t think I should be having this conversation with you,” Beau said, skirting the issue.
Violet took a deep breath and leaned over her ice cream. “I think you should think about liking her.”
“Okay. And why is that?” Beau stopped looking for an adult to rescue him from the conversation.
“She spends all her time on me or work or helping other people. But she doesn’t go out and have fun. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and I think she should have one. My dad has Lissa, and he’s real happy. But Mom’s been so sad since Aunt Hope died.”
“You think a boyfriend will make her happier?”
Violet shrugged. “She smiles a lot when she’s around you, and it’s been a long time since she’s smiled.”
The kid was stabbing him in the heart.
Violet glanced around, making sure no one else was listening in. “A couple months ago, I asked if I could spend a little more time with my dad. Since Aunt Hope’s gone, Mom’s all alone when I’m not there, and I thought if she had some more time to herself she’d finally start to, like, date or something,” Violet confessed.
“That’s why you asked to spend more time with your dad?”
Violet nodded earnestly. “I don’t think it’s working though. She just does more work or helps people do stuff. She babysits for my dad and step-mom so they can go out,” she leaned in. “I’m eight, but even I know that’s weird.”
“Your mom is a very giving person,” Beau said carefully.
“Yeah, but when’s she gonna start taking? You can’t just spend your whole life giving and not taking anything for yourself, right?”
Beau stared at the dimpled cherub in her oversized hockey jersey for a beat. “You’re a really wise kid, you know that?”
“Duh.” Violet sighed and settled her chin in her hands. “I just want her to be happy. I mean she’s my mom, you know? And she’s not happy.”
