Blindsided: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Victoria Denault

  She punches end and drops the phone on top of her bag, still in the middle of the hall where she let it fall when I threw her over my shoulder. I watch her lean against the wall and run her hands through her bed head. Her eyes catch mine and I give her a soft smile. “We can’t afford to buy your farm but thanks for thinking of us.”

  She lets out a soundless laugh. “I know. Hank and Daisy are close. He’s said you guys are…tight on cashflow at the moment.”

  I tense and decide to change the subject. “It’s cute, though, that my family is the ultimate threat.”

  She gives me a smile but it’s flat and there’s no humor in it. “I’m sure it would be the same in your house.”

  “Probably. I’ll have to try it out sometime,” I reply. She looks so down, I don’t like it. “He shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

  “He’s been doing it since we were…well, born,” Maggie says quietly. “We’re not special. He talks to Ben, Bobby and my dad like that too. It’s really hard not to hate that man.”

  “So hate him,” I reply.

  She looks at me with pain swimming in her hazel eyes. “He’s the only grandfather that I’ve got. Mom’s dad died when we were little and my dad’s mom…she took off when my dad was still in diapers.”

  “If Clyde was like that to her, I don’t blame her.”

  “She left her babies behind,” Maggie says angrily. “That doesn’t make her a saint by any means.”

  “You have no idea where she is? You don’t want to hear her side?” I can’t help but ask and walk over and stuff my hands in my pockets because I’m fighting the urge to pull her into a hug.

  “Why did you get all tense when I brought up Hank?” Maggie asks, changing the subject so abruptly I blink.

  “We’re talking about you.”

  “You’re talking about my personal business and I’ve decided I’d rather talk about yours,” Maggie replies. “Didn’t you and Hank used to be close? I remember before you went away for high school you hung out with him more than Jace.”

  “So you used to stalk me is what you’re saying.” I make a joke because I don’t want to talk about the guilt I feel regarding Hank with anyone. “Firecracker, at some point if Clyde keeps disrespecting you, you should stand up for yourself. You and Daisy are working your tails off for that farm and it’s clear you know what you’re doing. He shouldn’t get to berate you all the time.”

  Maggie looks confused by my kind words. Right. I’m supposed to hate her. I forgot. So I try and backtrack a little. “I mean, I’m going above and beyond for my family farm. Working in my free time instead of enjoying the perks of a full-ride and hockey stardom. If any of my family talked to me like that, repeatedly, I would walk away.”

  Maggie pulls herself off the wall and stares at me with a look of brutal honesty on her determined features. “Easy to do when you’ve got a solid shot at something else—a pro hockey career. Daisy and I have nothing but this farm. It’s different.”

  She grabs her bag and phone off the floor and walks past me back toward her bedroom. I follow. “I do have that. But the farm has always been my end game. It’s where I want to retire, and for a hockey player, even the best hockey player, that usually happens before forty.”

  She drops her bag on her desk chair and puts her phone down on the desk before turning to face me. “But you could sell your current farm and buy another one when you’re ready to retire from hockey. And support your entire family in the meantime. You get drafted and the world is your oyster. Daisy and I only have this little chunk of land. We have to get Clyde to sell it to us or leave it to us. There’s no backup plan.”

  “I’m not saying it’s not a hard situation to be in, but he shouldn’t treat you like that, Maggie,” I say softly. “You’re a good granddaughter and a great farmer.”

  “Shut up,” she says softly. “Please don’t start being nice.”

  “Also, as you know from your uncle’s experience, getting drafted doesn’t mean I’m instantly on easy street,” I remind her because her uncle was drafted and never set a skate on NHL ice. The most he probably made a year was fifty grand which is good for a farm team player but not exactly set-for-life money.

  Maggie isn’t letting this NHL thing go. “Are you going to enter the draft this summer?”

  I nod.

  “Then you’ll leave school and have real money by next year.” She pauses and looks stressed about something. “But if you end up drafted by a team on the other side of the country, you may end up wanting to settle there. Why bother holding on to a farm here? And does your family even want to keep farming? Does Jace?”

  “I don’t think farming is Jace’s first choice but it’s not his last either,” I say about my brother. “And for the record, even if I’m drafted, I’m not leaving school. I want a degree. It’s important to me. My family wants me to drop out early, but I’m not going to…if I can help it.”

  She just stares at me. Her mind is spinning, I can see it in her eyes, but I don’t know why what I’ve said has got her so concerned. I think of what she said earlier. “So Hank is hanging out with Daisy?”

  “They talk when she runs into him. They’ve always been friendly.” Maggie shrugs but then sees the concern on my face and elaborates. “He didn’t gossip about anything we didn’t already know, about your family and farm, I mean. The whole town knows you had issues with your new trees last year and then the barn thing.”

  “Yeah.” I grab my shirt off the floor. “I should get going. Can you print those notes?”

  My shirt goes over my head, blocking my face but I can hear her move and then I feel her hands on the sides of my torso as the shirt slips down and she’s right in front of me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I can’t help but flash her a wry smile and repeat her own words from a few minutes ago. “Shut up. Please don’t start being nice.”

  She lets out a soft laugh and blushes yet again and it makes me grab her waist and kiss her. Slow and gentle like we’re new lovers…which we aren’t. We can’t be. So I let her go and try to look like it’s no big deal. “Can you print those notes?”

  “I’ll email them to you,” Maggie replies with a smile.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Was this all just a ruse to get me into your house so you could take advantage of me?”

  “Honestly, no,” Maggie replies with a shy smile. “But I’ve never had two orgasms back-to-back so I feel like you deserve a reward.”

  I grin and now I want to kiss her again, but I fight the urge. “So you admit, I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

  “Biggest ego…among other things,” Maggie says and God she’s gorgeous when she’s smiling. “Now give me your email address and get the hell out of here before one of my roommates comes home.”

  We walk to the front door and as I grab my knapsack off the floor and shove my feet in my shoes, I give her my email. She punches some stuff on her phone and then reaches for the front door as my own phone pings. “Sent. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I say with a wink.

  “Do not ma’am me,” she warns.

  “Okay, Firecracker.” I want to kiss her again so I do, but only on the cheek. “You know if you ever want to double your pleasure again, I’d be game.”

  “This was supposed to be a one-time thing,” she says flatly. “A way to take out our aggression and stress without killing each other.”

  “And it happened twice, so we’re not good with the math part. I think maybe if it happens a few more times it might benefit us both,” I say casually. But really, I feel a lot more than casual about this. I want to have more sex with her. In fact I need it. “We both have a lot of stress to work out.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Maggie replies, surprising me but also making me incredibly happy. “I mean, if the opportunity presents itself again and the urge strikes, I won’t say no. But no one can ever know. You in my bed is more than enough reason for Clyde to ma
ke good on his threats and sell the farm to someone else.”

  “And George would disown me. Jace might too, and the last thing I need is more shit to deal with,” I add. “So yeah, I’m good with keeping this quiet. If it happens again.”

  “If…” she repeats firmly. “Now get out before someone comes home.”

  Maggie opens the front door and basically shoves me out. I smile the whole way down the stairs because I can feel her watching me as I go, probably checking out my ass. As I walk outside I pull up the email Maggie sent.: Notes attached. You’re welcome. But she’s included her phone number at the bottom, something I didn’t have before.

  Yeah…there is no “if” about it. This thing with us will happen again.

  12

  Maggie

  I wipe my brow. I’m sweaty and stinky and just want to finish the chores on the farm so I can get home. Daisy and I have plans with Caroline and Jasmyn to go to the outdoor movie night, and I can’t wait…because I know Tate will be there.

  “Hey! Mags, Daze, come and see what I’ve been working on,” Bobby calls out, and we make our way out of the goat enclosure. Ben has the goats in the milking building with Dad and Mom right now and Bobby has been working on our prototype.

  We make our way down around the back of the farmhouse, behind the extension we built off the back years ago, where Clyde lives. There, behind a line of tall firs, where no one can see it from the road or the drive, is what Bobby calls Beatrice. Beatrice is a shipping container. But Bobby has been slowly and steadily working on turning her into a tiny, self-contained hotel style suite.

  We both walk through the opening in the industrial plastic he has at one end and I immediately gasp. Daisy squeals. “Holy crap, it’s amazing Bobby!”

  I nod in agreement because words have escaped me as I look around the interior. All the walls and the ceiling, which for the past month have been nothing but metal, have been covered in drywall and the metal floor is now reclaimed wood. There are even pot lights recessed into the ceiling drywall. Bobby smiles proudly. “And that’s not all.”

  He walks over to the wall opposite where we came in and flips a switch. The pot lights come on. Daisy squeals again and jumps up and down while I clap. “Bobby this is incredible!”

  “We’re not done, but we’re close. And those lights are running off the solar panels I put on the roof last week,” Bobby explains. “This is hands down my favorite part of working on the farm again.”

  “Fantastic!” Daisy exclaims and bends down and touches the wood floors.

  “I still got to seal ’em,” Bobby explains as Daisy touches the floorboards. “Wanted you girls to weigh in on whether I should sand off the paint first or not.”

  I squat next to Daisy and take a closer look. Some of the planks do have a faded red paint on them. Like the color of an old red barn. And some have a few darker marks…like burn marks. I glance back up at Bobby. “Where is this wood from?”

  Bobby’s grin grows devious and he looks so much like my dad. A broader, more muscular version because Bobby still has his hockey body, mostly. My dad only played hockey occasionally as a kid, was never serious about it like Bobby, and he is shorter and leaner than Bobby and Ben, but they share the same sandy hair and blue eyes that crinkle in the corners when they smile or laugh. And just like my dad, Bobby gets twitchy when he’s avoiding a question.

  “It’s from a barn,” Bobby tells me with a shrug and then he crosses and uncrosses his arms. “So sand off the paint or no?”

  “I’d keep it. We can match the décor to it,” Daisy says simply. “Add a red quilt or some throw pillows.”

  “Did you get it at the hardware store? Because I’ve never seen—”

  “I didn’t steal it…technically.” Bobby says and suddenly his eyes are looking everywhere but my face.

  “Bobby says he didn’t steal the barn wood, he didn’t steal it,” Daisy says, annoyed. “And I agree, if someone leaves something on the side of the road…”

  “Adler…” I whisper and I think of Tate and then I think of the sex…and give my head a shake and try again. His barn…with the one wall that had been burned during the cider press fire. My eyes go wide and I point at Bobby but before I can say anything he explodes.

  “I didn’t steal it. I was by the property line trying to wrangle Crockett and Tubbs. You know they’re total escape artists and they were sneaking around by the fence, and I didn’t want them to end up on the Adler property because George would shoot ’em,” Bobby explains about two of our Angora goats. We have fourteen and just like all our other goats, they’re named after television or book characters. Crockett and Tubbs are characters from some show Bobby loved as a kid called Miami Vice. “Anyway I heard Louise yelling at Vince to take the damaged barn wood to the dump and he yelled back he was busy and he told Jace to do it. So I snuck over there a couple nights ago, and low and behold the wood was still there. No one had taken it to the dump. So I just decided to get rid of it for them.”

  “Do they know you took it?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Nah. I think Vince probably thinks Jace finally took it to the dump and Jace probably thinks Vince did and George probably thinks Louise did,” Bobby says. “They have a serious communication problem over there.”

  I feel bad, but I know Bobby is right. Tate probably wouldn’t care that we had it and he’s the only Adler whose opinion matters to me. I sigh. “Fine. Whatever. It does look really amazing, Bobby.”

  “Thank you,” he smiles again. “Next up are the windows and door.”

  He points to the plastic opening we came in through.

  “Don’t steal those from the Adlers too,” I quip.

  He rolls his eyes but I feel a little flutter of excitement. This is really happening. But that flutter quickly sputters and drops from my belly to my sneakers. We’re going to have our first, fully functional, eco-friendly cabin for a property we don’t own, that the Adlers do not want to give up. That used to be something I didn’t think about, but now I do. Because I’ve seen Tate naked. And liked it.

  “Also the composting toilet gets here tomorrow, if the Amazon package tracker thingy is right,” Bobby says and motions for us to follow him around the false wall he built at one end of the rectangular room.

  He’s already tiled the entire bathroom in these great oversized slate gray tiles. The walk-in shower is huge. And the vanity is an old dresser with a bowl sink on top and it’s perfect. “Bobby you’ve really outdone yourself.”

  “Ben helped with the tiling,” Bobby says and grins. “We’re on budget so far and I don’t see any hiccups, so this experiment is gonna be a winner, Mags. Now we just need the land for this. And the thingy you guys are working on for the bank.”

  “The business plan,” Daisy says and pats his head like he’s a toddler. “We’re working on it …but first the Adler’s have to put it on the market, or the bank does.”

  Bobby nods and I feel squirmy inside. “Any more intel on that?”

  “Well, I went to see Hank again,” Daisy says. “Actually I went to get more hot wings. God they have the best sauce I have ever had, and Hank was there and we talked again. Anyway, he says he heard from Jace that they’re a month behind on the mortgage and the bank sent them a warning letter already.”

  “What?” I say it way too loud to be normal and Daisy picks up on that immediately.

  “They gotta be thinking about throwing in the towel,” Daisy says.

  “Can we not…” I mutter and turn to head out of the container.

  “Not what?” Daisy asks. “Talk business?”

  “Gossip about the misfortune of other people,” I reply and jump down out of the container home, which we have on blocks so it doesn’t kill the grass.

  “It’s not other people, it’s the Adlers,” Daisy says following me out into the sunshine. Bobby is trailing behind her. “The family that took Rascal to the pound fourteen times last year because she wandered onto their property.”

 
; Daisy and her stupid cat. But she had a point. They knew who Rascal, our Maine Coon, belonged to and that cats wander. That’s what they do.

  Bobby nods even though he doesn’t give a rat’s patoot about that cat. “And let’s not forget the time Vince got drunk at the town fair and tried to sucker punch me.”

  “Because you were hitting on his ex-wife and she’d only been an ex for like a month or something at that point,” I remind him as the wind picks up and I notice Ben is herding the goats back into the pens with Clyde, who is swearing at them.

  “Tanya was hitting on me,” Bobby replies with a shrug and then a furrowed brow. “And why are you defending an Adler?”

  I pull out my phone and look at the time. “Daisy, we gotta head back if we’re going to make the outdoor movie night. I need to shower first.”

  “Okay,” Daisy says and sprints ahead of me. “I’m driving. You’re all emo or something and I don’t want you driving us into a tree.”

  I roll my eyes at her dramatics. Bobby walks us to our car. “Who is hosting the movie night?”

  Bobby asks because he used to go to Moo U and they did the movie nights when he was there too. “This time it’s the hockey team,” I say as I climb in.

  “And they’re showing Slap Shot? Mighty Ducks?”

  “Goon,” I reply.

  “Nice choice.” Bobby smiles. “Don’t end up in Adler’s popcorn line. He’ll likely poison the butter topping.”

  Daisy laughs and I fight a frown. I’m my own worst enemy. I don’t want anyone to know about me and Tate but I’m the one who can’t keep a poker face. Daisy and I drive in silence the entire way back to the apartment. She stops on the porch, which is shared by all four apartments, to check the mail. We’re usually very bad at that since none of us usually get any important mail of any kind, but Daisy has been relentless about checking for about a week now. She even checks it on Sundays when we aren’t getting mail in case there was a late delivery Saturday evening.

  Today she pulls a bunch of flyers out of the mailbox and a ubiquitous white envelope. I unlock the door and we climb the stairs to our third floor apartment and as I swing open the door at the top of the stairs Daisy speaks. “Oh my God! It’s here! I got it!”