Release

by Brenda Rothert

She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. “We don’t even know each other.”

  “Well, I’m trying.”

  She arched her brows skeptically. “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you and I couldn’t be more different.”

  I crossed my arms, bristling with defensiveness. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  She looked from side to side, suddenly seeming self-conscious. “Can we not do this here? I’m at work, and this is a library.”

  “Want to finish talking about it at the Supersaver?”

  She grimaced. “No.”

  “So tell me how you know we’re different when you hardly know me.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “For starters, I work at the Supersaver and you’re a rich, famous hockey player.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what I do for a living. It’s not who I am. Maybe you should hang out with me sometime and get to know me better.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but my jobs keep me pretty busy.”

  I remembered Drew and Chloe were in the Children’s Section. I had to get them home.

  “I have to go,” I said. “Thanks for the recommendation.”

  “Sure,” she said, pushing the cart away. “Have a nice night.”

  “Yeah, you too.” I turned and headed for the Children’s Section, our exchange still running through my mind. She’d sent the message loud and clear – she wasn’t interested.

  As I checked out the book on my mom’s account, I wondered why Samara was so closed off. That was one thing that hadn’t changed since high school. She’d always sent the silent message then that she wanted to be left alone. This felt different, though. It didn’t seem like she was angry now. Though it made no sense, it almost seemed like she was scared.

  Scared of me? I shook my head, wondering at that. I was hell on skates, but pretty mild-mannered off the ice. I made a mental note to ask Olivia about Samara.

  Damn, the Count of Monte Cristo was a thick book. But Samara’s words kept running through my mind – “I love it.” Much as I didn’t want to read this book, I was definitely intrigued about why it lit up the quiet, closed-off woman I wanted to know more about.

  Chapter 3

  Samara

  I leaned over the large, round cake on the table, shaking out a cramp in my hand before resuming my work. Making flowers and branches out of frosting was painstaking.

  I spent more time on cakes than I was supposed to. But I could never rush through them. People ordered cakes to celebrate something special, and making cakes for those occasions was an honor.

  This wedding cake would be immortalized in wedding photos, and I wanted it to be beautiful. I also rejected the notion that a cake from the Henley Supersaver was inferior to one from a fancy bakery. I took pride in my cakes.

  Other women my age fantasized about their perfect wedding cakes, and I fantasized about their perfect cakes, too. I’d never even considered what I’d want in a wedding cake. That part of my life was over and done with.

  “Hey,” a deep male voice called.

  I jumped back with a cry of alarm, smudging the flower I’d been working on. My chest was heaving with panic when I finally saw the source of my freak out: Orion Caldwell. He was leaning his forearms on the bakery case, a mixture of amusement and apology on his face.

  “Geez,” I muttered. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “I’m sorry. Everything okay? You seem jumpy.”

  I shook my head and let out a deep breath. “No. I mean, yeah. Everything’s fine. Can I help you with something?”

  “Did I ruin your cake?”

  I glanced down at the damaged frosting flower and waved a hand. “Nope, I can fix that.”

  “That’s a beautiful cake. You’re really good at that.”

  I couldn’t help smiling at the compliment. “Thanks.”

  “For a wedding?”

  “Yeah. Does it feel glam slash rustic to you?”

  He stroked the short, dark brown stubble on his jaw and grinned. “Uh … it looks awesome and I’d like to eat it. Does that help?”

  He sounded so sheepish that I laughed. “Yes. My instruction sheet only said ‘glam slash rustic wedding cake for 120’. It’s not much to go on.”

  “It’s not. I think you’re rocking it, though. How’s your day going?”

  I shrugged. “Good. This will take my whole morning. I’ll be checking from eleven to two.”

  “You’re off at two?”

  I nodded. Did he want something or was he just here to talk to me? I hadn’t been nice enough for him to want to talk.

  “So I like Dantes,” he said, his blue eyes studying me. I looked down at my hands, nervously kneading the plastic pouch of frosting.

  “You’re reading the book?” My heart stuttered in my chest. I hadn’t expected that.

  “Sure I am. You recommended it. I can see why you like it – Dantes is a badass. Or I guess I should call him the Count at this point.”

  “How far have you read?” I asked, not allowing myself to look up at him. Deliciously attractive and unknowingly sweet was a dangerous combination.

  “Almost halfway. I passed out for a few hours at four am. Had to work out this morning.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” I said. I needed a moment, but I played it cool, smoothing out the ruined frosting flower on the cake. I was picturing him working out now. Damn. An image of him reading the book in bed flashed across my mind and I pursed my lips, forcing it away.

  “I should be able to finish it tonight. Can we have dinner tomorrow night to talk about it?”

  “No!” My refusal came out stronger than I intended, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  “You’ve got plans?” Orion was cool as always.

  “No, I just … no.”

  His brows arched with amusement, and he smiled. “So here’s what I’m thinking,” he said.

  “I’m working,” I cut in, stopping him.

  “You can frost and listen at the same time. I won’t scare you again. So you recommend this book to me, and it’s giving me … the feels. That’s what it is, right? I’ve heard my teammates’ wives talk about books giving them the feels.”

  I scoffed and glared at him. “I seriously doubt a book gave you the feels.”

  “It’s true. You make me have the feels and then refuse to talk to me about it?”

  He was way too cute for my own good. “I can’t.”

  Liz walked in with a giant tub of frosting, looking between me and Orion as she set it on the counter.

  “Hey, Liz,” Orion said, giving her a heart-stopping grin.

  “Orion,” she said, smiling from ear to ear. She walked over and put a hand over one of his on top of the bakery case. “You just made us all so proud in the playoffs. I still can’t believe there’s a Henley boy in the NHL.”

  “Thanks. Hey, sorry if I’m keeping Samara by chatting with her.”

  Liz waved a dismissive hand. “Not at all. Did you need to order a cake?”

  “Actually, I’m trying to persuade her to have dinner with me.”

  Liz’ lips parted in shock. Yeah, that made two of us blown away by this turn of events.

  “What do you mean persuade?” She turned to me, her eyes about to pop out of their sockets. “Did you say no?”

  I shook my head, annoyed. “Liz—”

  “Oh no.” She put her hand up in stop sign mode. “Hell no. You’ve been back home for almost three years and haven’t been on a single date.”

  I rolled my eyes skyward. “Thanks for publicizing my personal life.”

  “It’s not personal. Everyone knows it.”

  A middle-aged woman approached the bakery case and I looked at her, relieved.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, reaching for my order pad.

  “Nellie Weston,” Orion said, grinning at the customer. She turned to him with the same awestruck smile Liz had given him.

  “Orion Caldwell!” Sh
e pulled him into a hug and he looked at me with a knowing smile as they embraced. “How are you? Your mom is always telling us about your games at bridge club. And I’m so happy to hear you broke up with that Munson girl. You can do so much better.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Weston. I was just asking Samara here to have dinner with me so we could talk about the book she recommended at the library. Can’t seem to convince her, though.”

  Nellie Weston turned to me with the same look of surprise Liz was giving me.

  “Orion is a very nice boy,” she said in an admonishing tone. “I’ve known him since he was a baby. And just look at him.”

  “Look at him,” Liz repeated, inclining her head toward Orion.

  I sighed with frustration. I couldn’t very well tell any of them why I didn’t date. The Supersaver had a snack bar. I’d meet him there, have a sandwich and leave.

  “Fine,” I said. “We can—”

  “Good girl!” Liz cried, clapping her hands together. Now I’ll help Nellie while you two work out the details. Go on.” She shooed me out from behind the counter.

  I regretted letting her do it when I glanced down and saw the white frosting smeared across my apron. My hair was tied back and secured in a net. I didn’t look very date-worthy.

  “What time can I pick you up?” Orion asked, tactfully ignoring my stained apron.

  “Uh … can we just meet here? Is five o’clock okay?”

  He smiled. “Five’s good, but let me pick you up.”

  “I was thinking we could just have dinner here. At the snack bar by the deli.”

  “Samara.” He arched his brows with amusement. “Let me take you out on a real date.”

  “It’s not a date, it’s a book discussion.”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  I sighed and met his sparkling blue eyes. “You heard Liz. I haven’t been out on a date in three years. Longer than that, actually.”

  “I’m looking forward to breaking that streak.”

  I gave a reluctant groan of agreement. “I live on Poplar Street, at Petra Larsen’s house.”

  “That’s a big house for just you,” he said.

  “I live in the garage apartment.”

  He nodded. “Great, so I’ll see you tomorrow night then. Should we trade numbers?”

  “No, I’ll be there.”

  With a grin, he glanced over at Liz. “You got a pen I can use?”

  She handed one over and he took out his wallet, removing a business card with his name and team logo on it.

  “Here’s my number. Not so you can cancel – so you can text me later if you want.”

  I felt a flare of annoyance. No matter how many ways I tried to tell him I wasn’t like other women, he just refused to listen.

  “I don’t text,” I said flatly.

  “Text me that you think I’m a douchebag if you want.” He handed the pen back to Liz.

  “There’s an idea,” I muttered.

  He ran a hand through his hair, looking nervous for just a second. “I’d better get reading. Talk to you later?”

  “Sure.” I nodded and tucked his number into the pocket of my apron.

  Somehow I’d get back at Liz for this. Instead of saving me, she’d made it impossible for me to refuse this date. I decided I wasn’t staying late to help her today, and I also wasn’t doing all the dishes like I usually did.

  A date. With Orion Caldwell of all people. He’d find out that my awkward, closed-off nature wasn’t just a way of putting him off. It was my actual personality. Hopefully this date would be over in record time.

  Orion

  The Dugout had a good crowd for a weekday evening. Like me and my buddy Casey, everyone was there to watch the baseball game.

  I liked baseball, though I did think it was kind of a pussy sport. Just chasing a little ball all over the field and trying to hit it. Yeah — those guys would piss their pants if a 225 pound defender was barreling at them with his hockey stick in the air.

  “Oh look, it’s you,” Casey said, rolling his eyes and pointing at a framed, signed photo of me on the wall. This was why I liked him. Not only wasn’t he impressed by my career, he tended to laugh about it.

  “If you were better looking they’d have your picture on the wall, fuckstick,” I said, shrugging.

  “I’ll tell you one thing,” he said, pointing the tip of his beer bottle at me. “If I was an NHL player, I’d at least be getting some ass.”

  I shook my head, about to reply when movement on the open stool next to me made me turn. And there was Amy. Fuck.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said tightly.

  “It’s good to see you.”

  “Yeah. I just came to catch the game with some friends.”

  She reached out and touched my arm. I pulled away and glared at her.

  “I think we should talk,” she said. “We’ve both had a break to let things settle a little.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” I looked at her, hoping she’d read my serious expression well. Her hair was cut shorter, and her eye makeup was heavier. But otherwise – same old Amy. I didn’t feel much of anything as I looked at her, other than annoyance.

  “Orion, we both made mistakes—”

  “Not really.” I tipped my bottled beer up to my lips and drank.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding a little pathetic. “I miss you so bad.”

  Casey leaned in from his side of me to talk to Amy. “Hey, did they forget to put the sign up tonight? No whores allowed.”

  “Fuck off, Casey,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” I told Amy. “I blocked your number for a reason.”

  “Look, I know you’re still pissed—”

  “No, I’m not. I just want you to go the fuck away.”

  I turned toward Casey and heard her leave.

  “She’ll get the message eventually, right?” I said.

  He grunted skeptically. “Yeah. She’s desperate ‘cause she knows she’ll never get anyone like you again. Brett dumped her a couple weeks after you guys broke up.”

  “It was never right with her. She was all about the money and the pro athlete thing, you know?”

  “Aren’t most women?” Casey asked, grinning.

  I nodded. “A hell of a lot of ‘em. It’s why I haven’t dated anyone in forever.”

  “You wanna order some pizza? I’m starving.”

  “Yeah.”

  Casey reached for a menu. My phone buzzed with a text, and I took it out of my pocket. Probably Niko rubbing the baseball game in my face. Damned Yankees fan.

  But it wasn’t his name that popped up on my screen – it was an unfamiliar number. When I read the message, a smile spread across my face.

  How goes the reading?

  Samara. I hadn’t really thought she’d text me. I added her to my contacts and wrote back.

  Me: I read all afternoon and finished.

  Samara: And??

  Me: Liked it a lot. Looking forward to talking to u about it tomorrow.

  Samara: Me too.

  Me: What r u up to?

  Samara: Just finished at the library. Going home.

  Me: I’m watching baseball at the Dugout if u feel like stopping by.

  Samara: Thanks, but I have to be up early. What should I wear tomorrow night?

  Me: I’m planning on Aurelio’s. It’s casual. I’ll wear jeans.

  Samara: Ok. See you then.

  Me: Goodnight.

  Samara: Goodnight.

  Samara

  I looked through the t-shirts stacked on a shelf of my bedroom closet, wishing for once that I cared about fashion. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t like it, but that my budget limited me to clearance racks.

  With a sigh, I pulled a plain black v-neck shirt from the pile and put in on. I didn’t know what to wear on a date. I also didn’t know what to do or what to say. This night was going to be all kinds of awkward.

/>   My jeans were nothing special and neither were my sandals, but my hair looked pretty good. That was something.

  I considered standing at the curb so I could just jump in the car when Orion pulled up. I wasn’t particularly excited about him seeing my garage home. But I was pretty sure that was bad date etiquette.

  It was 4:55. I’d checked my hair and makeup dozens of times, and fussing over it was only making me more nervous. I sat down at the kitchen table and drummed my fingers on the wood surface.

  Benny Bolding came to mind, and I smiled. He was a produce clerk at the Supersaver who’d asked me out many times since I started working there. He was in his forties and had a beer belly with its own zip code. Part of me wished I’d done a practice date with Benny. It might have given me a boost of confidence.

  There was a knock at the door, and my stomach did a full somersault. I stared at the door for a couple seconds, wanting desperately to back out, put my pajamas on and get in bed with a book.

  But part of me wondered what a real date was like. I’d been out with guys, but never like this. Never with one who asked sweetly and picked me up at my door.

  I took a deep breath and opened the door. The heart-stopping grin and bright blue eyes on the other side made my stomach churn nervously.

  “Hi,” he said, looking almost shy for a second.

  “Hi. I’m ready.” I grabbed my purse and walked out the door. There was no way I could handle having a man inside my apartment.

  He stepped aside at the top of the garage stairs so I could go first. I gripped the handrail and walked down slowly.

  “You look nice,” he said, glancing at me as we walked to his car.

  “Oh.” I scrunched my face and tried to come up with something better to say. Nothing came out.

  A dark Cadillac Escalade was parked in front of Petra’s house, and when Orion approached it and opened the passenger door, another wave of anxiety hit. I’d never been inside a car like this.

  With a small, steadying breath, I stepped up and in. He closed the door, and I took a deeper breath. The smells of leather and woodsy cologne mingled in a way that was all man.

  When Orion stepped into the car, he looked at me, his eyes still sparkling. I could only hold his gaze for a second before I turned my face to my lap.