High Stick

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  It was the most beautiful garment she’d ever seen.

  “Here.” Gabriella held it out. “Try it on.”

  “Are you sure?” Merry asked. “I would feel terrible if something happened to it.”

  “I would feel terrible if it continued to hang in my closet with nothing happening to it. Don’t you think it deserves some fun? Come on. If you’re too shy to change in front of us, the bathroom’s through there.”

  What the hell? In that moment, she felt camaraderie with these two women so she took off her blouse and let Gabriella ease the tunic over her head.

  “Oh, Merry!” Amy said.

  “I knew it,” Gabriella said.

  Merry turned to look at herself in the mirror. “A damn sight better than the funeral dress,” she said.

  Amy and Gabriella laughed but never asked her to explain.

  “Jarrett will absolutely die when he sees you in this,” Amy said. “He might even forget to eat.”

  Gabriella laughed. “Entirely possible. He loves feminine things. That might even be one of his rules—and we all know how he loves a rule.”

  And just then, a bridge was formed—not between Merry and these two women, but between Merry and what might be possible.

  All of a sudden, Jarrett was not some random particle in space that had collided with her. She knew people who knew him, who knew things about him. He had a connection to these women—women Merry had known at least marginally from Foolscap and Vellum. She’d made Amy dozens of cups of tea and sold her countless rolls of wrapping paper, bullet journal supplies, and her wedding invitations. Gabriella had been there when those invitations were ordered. Amy had connected Merry with the bartending job where she’d met Jarrett.

  Connections were important. She came from a world where people asked, “Who’s your mama?” and “Where are your people from?” and the answers mattered—not because of breeding or money, but for the connection. Connections made everything feel safer and more real.

  Merry wasn’t sure how long she stood there taking all that in, but an alarm brought her back to the present.

  “What’s that?” Amy asked.

  “Me.” Gabriella dug her phone out of her pocket. “It’s fifteen minutes until puck drop. Time to get our chili and watch our guys play hockey.”

  “But you haven’t chosen what you’re going to wear,” Amy said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gabriella said. “I’ll figure it out later.” She met Merry’s eyes. “When he’s gone, I feel off-balance. If you don’t know what I mean, I hope you will in time. Jarrett deserves good things, and I’ve got a hunch about you.”

  “I’ve been a little off-balance ever since I laid eyes on him,” Merry admitted.

  “A very good sign,” Amy said. “Come on. Change out of your party clothes and let’s go watch our guys kick some Wild ass.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Wow,” Jarrett said when Merry opened the door. “Just wow.” He wanted to snatch her into his arms, but that might not go well. He might be a little slow at times, but he knew Merry would not put up with snatching, would not see it as romantic.

  She wrinkled her nose. God, she was adorable. “You don’t think I look like a giant leprechaun who’s about to go plow?”

  He laughed, and when she joined in, it seemed natural to land in a hug—no snatching, just a soft, sweet hug.

  “I don’t think you look like a leprechaun of any size. I think you look beautiful.”

  “It was Gabriella’s idea to wear jeans with formal tops. Do you think it’s all right?”

  “I think everything about you is all right—more than all right.”

  And he was beginning to think she thought that he was all right, too.

  • • •

  The party was in full swing when they arrived—more than full swing. There were cars everywhere. People were on the porch, in the yard, and there were more arriving.

  “Bloody crap,” Jarrett said. “Who are all these people?”

  “Your teammates?” Merry asked. “Amy and Gabriella said only your teammates were coming?”

  “How long do you think the Sound roster is?” Jarrett drove around the house past tennis courts, stables, a number of outbuildings, and the biggest swimming pool Merry had ever seen. “Even if Thor invited the reserve list, that’s only ninety. There must be three hundred cars here.”

  “There’s a place to park between that limo and that Honda.” Merry pointed to a space beside the house.

  “That’s the yard. I can’t park on the grass.”

  She took a closer look. “You’re right.”

  They were back where they’d started now. He cast her a hopeful look. “Want to leave? Since there are no places to park and all?”

  It was tempting. She’d been happier to see him than she’d anticipated, and she had anticipated a lot.

  “Do you think that would be the right thing to do?” she asked. “Isn’t Thor your friend?”

  Jarrett hesitated, then nodded. “As much as he’s anyone’s friend. He does talk to me. Thor is a dark soul. But you’re right. I said I’d come and I do what I say.” He proceeded to make another lap around the house. “Also, it would be bordering on evil to deprive the world of the sight of you.”

  Her stomach turned over, and that hadn’t happened since she was a teenager. She’d forgotten what it felt like. I don’t have time for him to be The One. I don’t. I have to go to school. And work. This can’t be happening.

  He turned, took her hand, and smiled a smile that lasted a while.

  Her stomach turned over again, and the feeling spread throughout her body. No doubt about it. She wanted sex. She’d had these feelings many times, but she’d always told them no. Maybe it was time to tell them yes—even if she was wrong, even if he didn’t turn out to be The One. After all, it was different. She didn’t just want to have sex. She wanted to have sex with Jarrett.

  “Do you mind walking a bit?” he asked. “Maybe I can find a place behind the stables. I just can’t bring myself to park on the grass.”

  “I don’t mind.” In that moment, she might have agreed to fly back from the moon. “Or maybe we can catch a horse and ride it.”

  Jarrett laughed and turned the truck down a path they hadn’t taken before. “Thor hasn’t got any horses.”

  “Then why does he have stables?”

  “Because he had a gold digging fiancée who had seen too many episodes of Ice Wives. She traded in a British cricket player for Thor, and she traded in Thor for an Italian soccer player.”

  “Who did she trade in the soccer player for?”

  “I don’t know.” Jarrett parked the truck and turned to her. “If she hasn’t already, I’m sure she will. After all, there are many sports left for her to explore.”

  “That’s deplorable.”

  Jarrett placed a hand on her cheek. “I knew right away you didn’t care if I was a hockey player.”

  She leaned her cheek into his hand. “No. But I cared very much that you were a bartender.”

  He carefully gathered her to him and their mouths met with the perfect mix of sweet and heat. She placed her hand on his neck, the place where she wanted to put her face, but this wasn’t the time or the place. If she did, there wouldn’t be any turning back—and she was very close to wanting to be in that place.

  He covered her hand with his and let out a low moan.

  Maybe, maybe, if she only lightly kissed him there, didn’t take it all in—

  “Hey!” Someone pounded on the driver side window and they jumped apart like teenagers interrupted by The Hook on a 1950s Lover’s Lane. There was a young bearded guy in a T-shirt and baseball cap outside the truck. Apparently, Jarrett had been correct when he’d said the dress code was anything.

  Jarrett put down his window. “What do you want?” He sounded as irritable as a person could and Merry could relate.

  “Sorry man. But I saw you turn back here. Do you know if it’s okay to park here? I ca
n’t find another place. Or did you just come back here to—”

  Jarrett put up a hand palm out. “You had better not finish that sentence. Are you invited to this party?”

  “Yeah. I’m no crasher. My buddy, Sessions, invited me.” Unless she missed her guess, this guy had already been to a couple of parties where there was free booze flowing. “Sessions is his nickname because he’s a studio musician—what I’m hoping to be. Are you musicians?”

  “No,” Jarrett said.

  “Speak for yourself.” Merry was suddenly amused. “I can play piano funeral music. I have the clothes to prove it.”

  “Funeral gigs?” the guy said. “How does that pay? Think you could hook me up?”

  Jarrett spread his hands. “No. She’s not hooking you up with anything.”

  “Aw. Well. Can I park here?”

  “Why not?” Jarrett said. “Don’t block me in.”

  “Thanks, man!”

  When he was gone, Jarrett put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “I can’t even guess what’s going on here.”

  “Do you want to find out?” Merry asked.

  “I’m almost afraid to. But, yeah. I need to know. Let’s do this thing. Keep your seat.”

  How stupid was it that she felt a void when he exited the truck? But it didn’t last long. Soon, he was there helping her down, and he didn’t let go of her hand as they walked toward the house.

  “Do you think Thor is in there dead?” Jarrett asked. “Otherwise, I can’t imagine him allowing this.”

  “I suppose it’s possible, but not likely.” They rounded the corner just in time to see the driver of a limo open the door in the circle drive. “Unholy hell! It’s Little Big Town!” People continued to spill from the limo and move toward the front door.

  “Are you sure? What would they be doing here?” Jarrett asked.

  “No idea, but I’m sure.”

  “I thought there were only four of them.”

  “They would have entourage and dates. Or spouses.” Just then another limo pulled up. “Aubrey James,” Merry said. “This is like the red carpet at an awards show.”

  “Hey, hey.” Jarrett put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t forget that there are stars in the hockey world.”

  “I never could.”

  “See that you don’t.” He took her arm and led her to the walk leading to the porch.

  “Picture, Mr. MacPherson?” A photographer appeared out of nowhere. This really was like the red carpet.

  “Certainly.” Jarrett stopped, put a hand on Merry’s back, and smiled. As the cameras clicked, Jarrett whispered in Merry’s ear. “I know Thor did not invite the press.”

  Suddenly, the photographer lost interest in them when someone screamed, “It’s Blake!”

  “I guess he’s done with you,” Merry teased, “star that you are.”

  “If only I had my helmet and jersey. People don’t know me without my helmet and jersey.”

  I do. I know you. I shouldn’t in this short time, but I do. I don’t know if you know me, but I know you.

  Finally, they made it through the front door.

  “No wonder there are people on the porch and in the yard,” Jarrett said with some surprise.

  No wonder, indeed. Merry had hoped to see the house, but all she saw was wall-to-wall people. She looked around for Amy or Gabriella, but she might as well have been looking for Waldo. On the other hand, she saw quite a number of faces she’d seen in country music videos—a few big names, but mostly mid-listers.

  She felt someone pull on her sleeve. “Merry?”

  She turned and found herself face-to-face with Carson Hamilton-Knox. This was getting weirder by the minute.

  “Hello, Carson.”

  Carson smiled and looked a little chagrined. “So you really aren’t dating Chase Callahan?”

  “No,” Jarrett chimed in. “She’s dating me.” He offered his hand for her to shake. “Jarrett MacPherson.”

  “Of the Nashville Sound,” Carson said.

  “You know who I am?”

  “Carson Hamilton-Knox. Twang magazine. It’s my business to know who people are. You two have a good time.”

  “That was odd,” Jarrett said once Carson had gone.

  “Not as odd as this party,” Merry said. “I waited on her the other day at Foolscap and Vellum.”

  There seemed to be music coming from another part of the house, but it was hard to make out over the din.

  Jarrett clasped her hand. “Let’s go around this way. Maybe it’ll be better in another room.”

  It wasn’t. If anything, the more they moved, the thicker it got.

  “This is hell,” Jarrett said. “No wait. That wasn’t hell. This is hell.” They seemed to have ended up in the kitchen. There were two men standing on the counter with a keg of beer between them and a couple of girls in short skirts in the mix.

  “It’s The Saint!” one of them shouted. “Open up!” and he pointed a nozzle attached to a hose in their direction.

  “Don’t do it, Sparks!” Jarrett shouted. “I swear to God in heaven if you spray that beer on me, I will kill you—especially if you get it on Merry.”

  “Thor has threatened as much,” the other one shouted. He had a Scottish accent.

  “I’m assuming that’s the famous Sparks and Scottie,” Merry said as Jarrett propelled her onward into another room. “They were at the wedding.”

  “None other.”

  “Do you even know where you are anymore?” Merry asked.

  “I never did. And I haven’t seen a single teammate except for the wild ass twins. I’m pretty sure they had themselves a couple of ice girls, which is against the rules. I’ve half a mind to tell on them.”

  Merry wanted out. This wasn’t a party. It was a mob and getting worse by the second. They had ended up in a huge room with a stage set up in one end. The band on stage sounded vaguely familiar, but Merry couldn’t place them.

  “I didn’t know there was going to be live music,” she said.

  “I’m pretty sure Thor didn’t either. He said something about a DJ.”

  “So did Sparks and Scottie do all this?”

  “No way,” Jarrett said. “They don’t have this kind of pull. And even if they did, they couldn’t keep it together long enough to make it happen. Through here.” Jarrett pulled her along. “I think we’re in the second dining room—the one that Thor called the banquet room when he showed me the house once. This door might lead back behind the kitchen to the outside.”

  Much to her relief, they landed in a narrow hallway and she thought they were alone—until she heard the crash.

  They turned just in time to see a couple at the end of the hall and a wine glass crash against the wall over the man’s head.

  “I cannot believe you did this!” The large man spoke in a foreign accent. Merry couldn’t tell what. “And you are not to throw another thing! Do you hear me?”

  “That must be Thor . . . ” Merry said.

  “And—oh, fuck!” So The Saint could have a potty mouth.

  “That’s Rita May Sanderson,” Merry said. She’d sung backup in some major music videos and had had a song on the charts for about fifteen seconds a few months back. Merry knew who she was because Harper liked her.

  “No. That’s Tradd Davenport—though they are one in the same. Rita May Sanderson is her stage name. She’s my boss’s daughter and we aren’t supposed to fraternize with her ever. Let’s get out of here.”

  But it was too late.

  “Oh. Jarrett,” Thor said. “Hello.”

  “Happy New Year.” Jarrett took Merry’s hand and led her to the end of the hall.

  “Happy. Yes,” Thor said. “You must be Merry. Hello and welcome. My apologies. I’m sure this was not what you expected. It wasn’t what I expected either.”

  “What happened?” Jarrett asked.

  “Tradd happened.” Thor was very angry, but controlled.

  Tradd/Rita May spoke for the f
irst time. “You’ve been complaining about wanting to sell this oversized mobile home ever since Jonteau left. I’m just helping you get some notice for it. Surely someone else with more money than taste will come along.”

  “You—” Thor began.

  “Quiet,” Tradd said. “I got a text.”

  “Because clearly you can only read a text in the quiet.”

  “Someone fell in the pool!” Tradd yelled. “I told you to have it drained and covered! It’s January!”

  Thor ran, cursing in a foreign language, with Tradd close behind him.

  “Should you go help?” Merry asked. “Be the hero?”

  Jarrett shook his head. “Thor’s got it. It’s not a party until a drunk falls in the pool.”

  He looked at her long and deep. “Is this how you want to bring in the New Year?” He put his hands on her upper arms, brought his face close to hers, and the slow burn started. She thought he was going to kiss her, but in the end he touched her nose with his. “Is it? Sweet, Merry Sweet?”

  “No. It’s not.” She wanted to bury her face in his neck and let him bury himself in her. She wanted to give what she’d been saving and find out if there was any possible way that he could be The One. She wanted to hold him in the night and wake up in the morning with him.

  “Then let’s go.”

  His eyes told her that he understood what she wanted.

  • • •

  Jarrett reached for Merry’s hand as they pulled into her driveway.

  “You aren’t going to send me away to see the New Year in alone are you?” The chemistry was thick between them and he thought he’d read her intentions, but he had to be very careful with her.

  “No,” she said quietly. “I’m not going to do that.”

  “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  “It depends on what you think it means.”

  “You told me you wouldn’t make love again until it was with the person you intended to make love with for the rest of your life. I hope that’s what it means.” He stroked her hair. “I know it hasn’t been any time, but I’m crazy about you, Merry. I feel this . . . ” He searched for the word, but couldn’t find it.