Blindsided: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Victoria Denault

  “I don’t want to hang out at my work on my one day off this week, Maggie,” Jasmyn says with a sad look on her face, so I give in and sit.

  A smiling server with the name tag Gail walks over and hands us our menus. “Can I grab you all some drinks while you look that over?”

  We all order drinks and she smiles and nods as she walks off.

  Gail hands us our drinks, but Jasmyn can’t decide on food, so she gives us a few more minutes. Ugh. I want to order, eat as fast as possible, and get out of here before the team shows up. Maybe Tate won’t join them tonight, I think hopefully. But then, suddenly, they wander in—a line of well-built, happy-go-lucky hockey jocks in Moo U T-shirts, hats and sweatshirts. And Tate Adler is with them because the universe loves torturing me.

  Gail walks back over, smiling. I hand her the menu back immediately because I never needed it. “Veggie burger with goat cheese and bacon.”

  “We don’t have veggie bacon,” Gail warns and I nod.

  “The real stuff is what I’m going for,” I explain. “I’m not a vegetarian, just like the burger.”

  Gail nods and jots down the order. “Cool, just double-checking.”

  Daisy orders her usual inferno hot wings, Jasmyn gets a cheeseburger, and Caroline gets a barbecue chicken burger. We also order nachos for the table.

  “Veggie burger with real bacon makes no sense,” I hear as soon as Gail walks away.

  I look up and see Tate staring at me from his seat as he lifts a pint of beer to his mouth. A Moo U T-shirt is painted over his muscular chest and a backward baseball cap, probably with the hockey logo on it, covers his thick dark hair. The table is overflowing with his teammates, all dressed about the same, and girls are peppered around them, some even sit on their laps. Tate’s lap is empty though.

  “I like the taste of the veggie burger and the taste of bacon,” I reply coolly. “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t care but I find it amusing that you can’t even order food that isn’t irritating,” he quips and his buddy beside him—that hot blond guy Cooper—snorts.

  “You know what’s even more annoying?” I reply. “The fact that you can’t seem to mind your own damn business.”

  Caroline leans over to look at the hockey table. “Great game tonight guys. Sorry about the loss.”

  “We weren’t giving it our all,” Cooper says with a shrug. “Exhibition and all.”

  “Oh right. Sure,” Daisy rolls her eyes. “Because a bunch of women couldn’t have beaten you if you were really trying, right?”

  Cooper is about to nod but Tate cuts him off. “Actually this group of women could. They won the championship last year in case you weren’t paying attention. Honestly, I’m just pleased they didn’t smoke us in a shutout.”

  Daisy doesn’t know what to do with that honest, non-misogynistic response and quite frankly neither do I. Tate notices he’s stunned us into silence and winks at me, turning back to his teammates.

  I pretend to ignore him for about an hour after that as we eat but for some dumb reason, I am hyper-aware that he is there. Tate and I have been in the same space lots of times. Last year, we were in this very restaurant at the same time a lot. We were in the school cafeteria together more than once because we both lived in dorms last year. We even lived in the same dorm on different floors. We had two classes together, but he was somehow easier to ignore then than he is now.

  I think it’s because we broke the seal of silence, thanks to Clyde and George’s brawl, and I’m sure the fact that I know what it feels like to have his tongue in my mouth doesn’t help. Ugh. Once the Burlington Farmer’s Market is over, I can get back to forgetting he exists.

  As Gail clears our empty plates, Tate’s server brings him something he must have ordered. As he picks up his burger I smile and he catches me. “This is real meat, with real bacon not some giant contradiction on a bun, FYI.”

  “It’s the four cheese bacon burger, right?” I say an he nods. “You know why that tastes so good?”

  “The garlicky cream cheese stuff they put on the bun,” he replies. “It’s magical.”

  “It’s not cream cheese. It’s our goat cheese,” Daisy interjects and as my grin grows, Tate’s wilts.

  “What?”

  “We sell our garlic and herb goat cheese to the Biscuit and they use it on that burger,” I explain. “It was actually Daisy’s idea and she made a version of it and had the chef try it, which is probably what sold him on it.”

  “Huh,” Tate says and looks at the burger and back at me. He’s impressed and he’s fighting with his face inwardly because he doesn’t want to show it. “We sold our apple cider to Whole Foods across the tri-state area.”

  “Past tense,” I remark. “Because your cider machine imploded and took half your barn with it. So what have you done to mitigate that loss?”

  He scowls at me. “I go to school for business lectures, I don’t need them here.”

  “Touchy, touchy,” I mutter and bite back my condescending smile because I actually want him to open up to me, not shut down. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and take a sip of my iced tea while I watch him take his first bite of burger and try not to reveal how much he enjoys it.

  I glance at Daisy and she picks up on what I’m trying to do, like a good sister. “Sorry, Tate. Maggie gets overzealous about the business side of the farm. It’s been her dream since she was like six, like yours must be playing hockey—professionally.”

  Tate chews slowly, savoring it and then swallows and before he can answer, one of his teammates—one of the twins on the team, but I don’t know which one because I can’t tell them apart—does. “Tate’s got a real shot at going first round in the draft this summer.”

  “So you’re entering the draft?” I ask casually.

  Tate smirks. “Why do you care? Gonna miss me?”

  “Not in the slightest,” I reply swiftly and the twin laughs. Tate glares at him, so he gets out of his seat and wanders down to the other side of the table.

  “What are you going to do with the farm if you’re playing across the country or something?” Daisy asks and I glare at her. I don’t want to be so blunt with Tate.

  “Why do you want to know?” Tate asks.

  “Well I know you’re having…financial issues,” Daisy says and I kick her under the table. “Ouch!”

  “She means that we Todds hold out hope every day that you might sell it so we can get some neighbors we actually respect,” I say and Jasmyn winces and Caroline stares at me.

  “Harsh much, Mags. Geeze,” Caroline whispers.

  Tate’s dark green eyes narrow and his jaw tenses. “Sorry to burst your bubble but we have no intention of selling the farm. And yeah, losing the cider press like you mentioned earlier hurt us a little. We sold out of almost everything we brought to the market yesterday except the caramel apples because you kept poaching our customers with your goat chews.”

  “Goat’s milk caramels,” I correct with a hiss. “And they’re better than your caramel apples. Sorry not sorry.”

  “You guys should have a friendly competition,” Caroline suggests and I kick her under the table too. “Ouch! God. Why so violent? All I’m saying is whoever makes the most money next farmer’s market, the other one has to stop selling their caramel product. It’s either that or you two arm wrestle for it and no offense Mags, but you’ll lose.”

  Tate swallows down another bite of his burger and shakes his head. “I’m not going to stop selling anything. It’s our booth, technically.”

  “You know you’ll lose. We sold way more than you and we’ll do it again next week,” I reply smugly. “We’re a better farm on every level. Sorry if the truth hurts.”

  Tate frowns. “Fine. I’ll make a bet. But I want bigger stakes. Whoever makes the most money next market has to skip the following Sunday.”

  “That’s a little crazy,” Daisy replies.

  “Scared, huh?” Tate smirks.

  “Hardly,” I say as Caro
line and Jasmyn stand up and drop money on the bill Gail brought us earlier. I dig out my wallet and add my money to the pile.

  “So it’s a bet then?” Tate says and wipes his hand on his napkin before extending it toward Daisy who tosses her money on the table and walks away without taking his hand.

  I take it though and give it a short shake before pulling back like touching him was painful. The problem is that it wasn’t. At all.

  “We’ll win and we’ll be doing you a favor. Give your family an extra day to fix the side of your barn, which still has a giant hole in it thanks to your cider making skills,” I say, making exaggerated air quotes as I say the word skills. Then I turn on my heel and stomp off, shoulders back and head up high.

  “The machine malfunctioned! We’re just waiting on the insurance money!” he calls out defensively but I ignore him completely.

  As we walk home Daisy looks at me, her dark eyes serious. “If he makes the NHL, it sounds like he’ll keep the farm.”

  “Maybe,” I say. “I’m not convinced. Yet.”

  “That land is perfect for our business expansion,” Daisy reminds me, like it wasn’t my idea in the first place.

  “I know. I know,” I say and sigh. “We’ll just have to spend our Sundays convincing Tate he really doesn’t want to keep the farm.”

  “Or maybe you could actually try to build an actual truce with them,” Jasmyn suggests and her wide mouth parts in a smile, which I’d like to think is sarcastic but I think she actually means what she says. “You guys could forge a friendship and then tell him you want to buy it. I bet they’d consider selling it to you if this insane feud was over.”

  Daisy and I stop walking and stare at her, then each other, then back at Jasmyn. “Yeah, no,” Daisy and I say in perfect unison.

  “You two are doing this the hard way,” Jasmyn warns and Caroline is nodding her blonde head beside her.

  “It’s not possible to fix it. Trust me this is our only way,” I say.

  Neither of them say anything as we turn onto our street but Daisy nods in agreement, and that helps quell the doubt that has sprouted in my gut.

  8

  Tate

  The hardest part of this entire plan has been keeping a straight face all week when I saw Maggie on campus. And for some reason I’ve seen her more than normal. Well, I’ve noticed her more anyway. I blame the damn spin the bottle game. If I had kept my lips off her, maybe I wouldn’t be so hyper-aware of her existence. It was dumb. I knew it when I was doing it—and I really didn’t want to do it. But I’m competitive to a fault so I couldn’t just walk away after that damn bottle landed on her. She’d take that as a win. She can never win. Not against me. So I kissed her, fully expecting it to be as disgusting as if I was kissing my cousin or something but…it really wasn’t. It was good. Great. Hot as fuck.

  Maybe that’s what has given me the inspiration I need. Maybe I should be thanking her, I think with a wry smile as I wait impatiently in the parking lot for Lex, Jonah, Cooper, Patrick and Paxton, who all volunteered to help me. Well, I kind of strong armed a couple of them into it, but hey, it was a perk of not being a rookie anymore. I lift my butt off the tailgate of my truck as I see my teammates making their way across the parking lot to me. “On time and everything. Thanks guys!”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Patrick says with a smile. Paxton just nods beside him. He’s not as up for trouble like his brother usually is. And this is most definitely trouble.

  A truck I recognize as Bobby Todd’s and Maggie and Daisy’s familiar mini-SUV come down the road and park a few cars up from us. The girls get out first and Maggie makes sure to glare at me as she walks to the back to open the trunk and takes out whatever goat products she’s packed in there. Daisy opens the back passenger door and pulls out a long, rolled up thing and kicks the door shut with the heel of her Ugg-covered foot as she struggles with it.

  She starts to march toward us as their uncle Bobby and their menace of a grandfather Clyde are fussing with whatever’s in the back of their truck, and arguing just loud enough that I can hear the venom in their tone but not make out the words. Maggie stops what she’s doing and hisses in their direction. “Clyde, best behavior, you promised.”

  “You’re not the boss of me, Magnolia Todd,” Clyde snaps. “You need me today because your dad got too tired last market. Just another reason why I should sell the damn place.”

  His vile mood makes my grin deepen. “Perfect. They’re already ornery, and Clyde is likely to explode when he realizes what I’ve done. If I’m lucky he’ll make a scene and get them all banned from the market forever.”

  Patrick shakes his head and grins as he says, “I don’t get it. She’s hot. Make love not war, Adler.”

  “Hey I didn’t start this feud. I’m just going to end it, once and for all,” I say with an easy shrug, like I don’t have a care in the world. But I do. On top of wanting this to go so well for Adler Apples that Maggie gives up, takes her goat cheese, and goes away, I also need this to make us some good cash for another reason. Jace was frantic when he called me Tuesday about the amount of apples that were damaged in that mini freak storm we had around four in the morning. The winds were insane and a ton of apples dropped and were banged up to the point where selling them at the market would be embarrassing. The solution I came up with was borrowing a dunk tank from Jace’s best friend’s dad, Otis—who owns an events business—setting it up just across from the booth in the field near the parking lot and having my teammates volunteer to get dunked by customers paying to throw our banged-up apples at us. It had to work because it was all I had to beat her in sales today.

  A second later, Maggie is carrying two coolers past as I motion for the guys to each grab a barrel of apples, and I grab one too. We start walking a few steps behind her. She twists her head to glare at me over her shoulder. Her long hair is pulled into a low ponytail and a few pieces have already escaped and are curling around her face. I think of what Patrick said. She is hot, even with that sour look on her face, there’s no denying it. If Maggie Todd wasn’t Maggie Todd I would probably try to make that spin the bottle kiss a hell of a lot more. But she is Maggie Todd—the enemy. The mortal kind, not the kind you…

  “What the ever loving sweet baby Jesus is that?” she says.

  Paxton, Patrick and the rest of the guys stop dead and I slow my gait but continue making my way directly to the dunk tank Jace is filling with water. Lex is on a step ladder hanging the banner across the top that says “Dunk A Hockey Hunk.”

  It was ridiculous and shameless and not at all what I asked Jace to put on the banner. But he was busy all day yesterday working on rebuilding the wall of the barn and then he apparently got stung by a bee, which he blames the Todds for because they have beehives. So Jace sent Raquel to go see Mikey—our banner guy who Jace goes to school with and who works out of his parents’ basement—and Raquel came home with this.

  “This is an extension of Adler’s Apples booth today,” I say casually like it’s no big deal. I walk over and drop my barrel of apples beside it.

  “You’re…” Maggie looks around and realizes she’s surrounded by hockey players. “You’re…cheating. This is cheating.”

  “This, Firecracker, is winning,” I reply with a grin.

  Daisy is now walking up, carrying a bunch of crap in her arms and her steps slow to a halt. Her dark eyes dart around furiously from me, to Maggie, to the dunk tank, to the rookies, to Paxton and Patrick. A roll of tape tumbles from her pile of stuff and Patrick bends and picks it up.

  “No,” Daisy says in a dark, deep rumble.

  Patrick smiles. “No? I haven’t even hit on you yet and you’re already saying no?”

  Daisy glances at him, wrinkles her nose and then walks toward me. “You can’t run this stupid thing and the booth. That’s…that’s che—”

  “Cheating. Boy you and your sister share more than just some flaming hair and attitude, you share a brain too, huh?” I joke. “Well I hate to brea
k it to you both, but there was never a word uttered about how we made the money this Sunday. The bet is just whoever makes the most money.”

  Daisy and Maggie glare at me and then each other. Bobby Todd, their uncle who used to be my hockey coach when I was little and was the last local guy to be drafted into the NHL, surveys the situation and shakes his head begrudgingly. “Shit, Adler, you got more brains than I thought.”

  He continues on toward the booth. Daisy makes a sound in the back of her throat, like a cat cornered in an alley, and she storms off after her uncle. Maggie keeps glaring at me. “You… I… All of you…argh!”

  She flips me her middle finger and stomps off after the rest of her family.

  “Umm…what did you get us into?” Jonah asks nervously.

  “Relax. She’ll only take it out on me.” I clap him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Now take off that shirt of yours and climb into the tank. You’re up first.”

  “I am? Why me?” Jonah asks, but when I don’t answer he just sighs and tugs his T-shirt over his head.

  It takes almost an hour after the market opens before we get our first customer, which almost sends me into a full-blown anxiety meltdown. It was bordering on pitiful watching Jace and Paxton calling out to people from the card table we’re using as a ticket stand, trying to lure people over to play. Finally two high school girls drinking kombucha buy three apples each. When neither of them manages to dunk Jonah, I throw them a free apple and the blonde one nails the target. When Jonah drops like a sack of potatoes and bounces up soaking wet, they squeal with delight. Jonah turns red but it draws a couple more customers.

  Two hours after that, I am finally able to take a deep breath. We’ve got a line of people excited to dunk my teammates with our rejected apples. It’s working. “When you taking a turn, brother?”

  I glance at Jace and shrug. “Eventually. Right now I’m just basking in my success.”

  “The banner helped. I know marketing,” Raquel says with a confident smile as she flips her bleached blonde hair.