The Rule Maker (Boston Hawks Hockey #4)

by Gina Azzi

  “Good night, Daddy.” I kiss his cheek goodbye, giving him side-eye that makes him laugh even harder.

  “See you tomorrow.” He waves before closing the front door after us.

  I glance at Austin as we walk from my parents’ porch to his SUV. “No tact, I swear.”

  Austin chuckles, his fingers finding the small of my back. “Honestly, with our parents, it’s amazing we turned out relatively normal.”

  “I know, right?” I agree, thanking him as he takes my hand and helps me up the one step into the passenger seat. “Thank God it’s you and you know them.”

  Austin winks and I feel it in the pit of my stomach. “I feel the same. You ready?”

  I nod and he closes the door, rounds the front of the SUV, and sits in the driver’s seat. For a beat, the space between us charges. We stare at each other, realizing that everything is changing, shifting, evolving.

  Austin’s eyes are unreadable, a tightness around his mouth that lends a gravity to the moment. I smile at him softly and the tension in his expression eases, the corners of his mouth flipping up.

  He extends his hand to me and I take it, threading my fingers with his.

  “We’re really doing this.” His voice is nearly a whisper, laced with awe and nerves.

  I squeeze his hand. “We’re really doing this.”

  He lets out a deep breath and his grin grows. I like seeing this side of him, the vulnerable streak when he’s almost always collected, his thoughtfulness when he rarely gives his feelings away.

  “Okay,” he says, turning on the SUV, his swagger reasserting itself, “let’s go then.”

  He drops my hand and backs out of my parents’ driveway.

  “I’ve never been to The Ivy,” I tell him on our way to the posh, downtown restaurant.

  He laughs. “Most people haven’t and you’ve just been back in the city for weeks. I’ve only been for events, like Torsten and Rielle’s wedding, but never on a date.”

  I bite my bottom lip, tucking that little morsel of truth away. “You trying to impress me, Merrick?”

  He glances at me, his palm sliding over the steering wheel. “Always, Crawford.”

  By the time we pull up in front of The Ivy and Austin valets his ride, we’ve settled back into our skins. The easygoing, joking, ribbing, laughing that we’ve always shared, but this time, there’s an edge of awareness.

  I notice how his biceps tug the material of his dress shirt and recall the strength of his arms when they’re wrapped around my body. A thrill dances down my spine when we’re escorted to a table and heads turn in our direction, whispers breaking out, a few guys even lifting their drinks in Austin’s direction in thanks. The color that spreads high on his cheekbones makes me giggle because Austin, embarrassed?

  I slip into the chair across from him as he settles himself.

  “Your fan club is growing,” I tease.

  He snorts and gestures to our server, who approaches our table and runs through the list of special cocktails for the evening.

  “Can I start you with something to drink?” she asks.

  Good thing I was scanning the drink menu while she was talking because there are too many delicious, sophisticated cocktails to choose from to revert to my trusty old friend, wine.

  “I’ll take an old-fashioned,” I order. Austin lifts an eyebrow and echoes my order.

  Our server nods and leaves us to look over the menu.

  “It’s going to be one of those nights?” Austin leans back in his chair, his gaze scanning my face.

  I grin cheekily. “Gonna be one of the best nights.”

  He smiles and it’s one of his real ones. One that transforms his entire demeanor and offers glimpses of the boy from my youth.

  “I really am happy we reconnected, Chlo.”

  I blow him a kiss and he snorts. “Me too, Aus. Thank you for taking me here.”

  He shakes his head. “Thank you for agreeing to be my date.” He leans forward again, his elbows resting on the table. “I know we started this as a way to help each other out with our summer obligations.”

  “Mostly mine,” I remind him.

  He shrugs. “And we drummed up a pretty good list of rules.”

  I nod, wondering where he’s going with this.

  “Can I add one?” he asks, uncertainty back in his tone.

  “Of course.”

  He reaches across the table, his fingers tracing the backs of my knuckles. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Dated?”

  He ducks his head. “Not for real. Not since college.”

  His admission hits me square in the chest and for the umpteenth time in my life, Mimi flickers through my mind. Maybe she was right about Austin all along. Maybe she read him a hell of a lot clearer than I ever did.

  Austin glances back up. “I don’t want to mess this up with you. What we have going, it’s real.”

  My throat tightens and I nod, flipping my hand to clutch at his.

  “But in order for that to work, I need you to be honest with me. Real honest. And I’ll do the same. We can’t play all those mind games I’ve watched my friends and teammates navigate like freaking land mines. You’re coming off a pretty big life change, I have hockey season starting back up…” He shrugs. “We need to be honest.”

  Everything inside of me turns to goo at the expression on his face. Trust and vulnerability and a desire to do the right thing, to be the right man. All of this on top of his confession last night hits me hard. He really is trying. I nod. “I like this rule.”

  He bites the corner of his mouth. “Even more than singing Madonna?”

  I tip my head, as if weighing my options. Austin grins.

  We both break out in laughter just as our drinks are delivered to the table. We thank our server and lift our drinks.

  “To summer shenanigans and real-life dates,” I say.

  Austin’s smile widens. “To you, Chloe.”

  The sweet sentiment nearly bowls me over again.

  “I don’t know what to do with this side of you, Austin,” I murmur, clinking my glass with his and taking a small sip.

  He cocks his head, raising an eyebrow.

  “Sweet, sentimental.” I gesture at him.

  “Hardly. But I know a good thing when I see it and I don’t want to ruin this, Chlo.”

  “What did we agree on? About being in the moment?” I glance around the restaurant. “We’re on our first date.”

  He snickers. “See, I’m already ruining it.”

  I smile, tipping my head for him to continue.

  He schools his expression. “We’ve been friends for a long time, have a long history. I just don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t,” I say with more confidence than I’ve felt in a long time. “I won’t let you.”

  “Promise?” he asks, and I’m reminded of last night’s conversation all over again.

  “Swear it.”

  18

  Austin

  “I knew it.” I shake my head. “Mason freaking Kinner.”

  Across from me, Chloe giggles. God, she’s beautiful. Her cheeks have been stained pink the entire evening, probably because of how much laughing we’ve done. Her eyes shine like emeralds, all glitter and wonder. I have to force myself to keep my eyes trained on her face because the way her dress wraps around her curves would distract me from dinner in an instant.

  Not for the first time, I both despise and am grateful to Steve. What an idiot. He’s going to regret losing the love of a good woman like Chloe for the rest of his life. And, as much as I can’t stand Mason Kinner from high school, at least I can admit his good sense in kissing Chloe at Homecoming our freshman year.

  Chloe wrinkles her nose. “I was pretty old by the time I had my first kiss. Honestly, I would have given it to anyone just to get it over with.”

  I laugh and pick up my wine glass. We changed to wine for dinner but I know the night is far from over and I’ll be ordering another co
cktail soon. This night can easily stretch to dawn and it wouldn’t be enough time to learn all the things I want to learn about Chloe.

  “Who was yours?” she asks.

  I duck my head.

  “Oh no,” she groans, and I can’t imagine all the faces flipping through her mind.

  “Allie Canes.”

  Her mouth drops open and she jabs her pointer finger at me. “Savannah’s best friend!”

  I snort, rolling my lips together as I nod.

  “Was it Truth or Dare?” she asks.

  “Nope. Just a regular night. She was sleeping at our house and we were both up late. Vanny had fallen asleep so Allie and I were just watching a movie and…” I shrug.

  “You kissed her.”

  “She kissed me.” I set the record straight. “I was so surprised and then I couldn’t believe my good fortune.”

  We both laugh again.

  Our server appears at the end of our table and asks if we’d like to order dessert.

  “Do you have doughnuts?” I ask before Chloe can order.

  Chloe snorts and orders a tiramisu and an espresso martini. I tack on a cheesecake and a Bailey’s. Leaning back in my chair, I grin at the beautiful woman sitting across from me.

  My whole childhood is tangled up with hers. So sure, I would look at her and feel all sorts of affection and concern. But this summer, it’s all changed. She’s not just a little girl crying about skinned knees or a pre-teen I pranked on a beach trip. Now, Chloe Crawford is all woman and I want to be the man worthy of her attention and affection.

  I want to be man enough for her.

  Our conversation continues to flow as easily as our drinks. When I bring Chloe into my bed later in the evening, I do so with the understanding that we’re taking another step forward. I’ve confided in her, she’s been honest with me, and our relationship is growing.

  Chloe does so willingly, with trust outshining the vulnerability in her gaze, with sweetness overshadowing the sass of her mouth, with all the feelings that usually scare me away, bringing me closer.

  After a night spent exploring Chloe’s body, a morning feeding her French toast and horsing around over mugs of coffee, I’m on cloud nine.

  All the things I’ve been searching for—acceptance, understanding, forgiveness—can be found in her deep green eyes and knowing smirk.

  We walk into my parents’ kitchen for weekly, Sunday night dinner, holding hands and our parents clap and whistle like I just announced that Chloe’s pregnant. Nothing would make my mother or Diane happier than to become grandmothers. At the same time.

  Claire grins and passes Chloe a wine glass. Indy’s telling anyone who will listen that she’d like credit for setting up yet another perfect couple. Even Easton, who’s usually more reserved, lets loose with a loud whistle.

  “It’s about damn time.” Dad clasps me on the shoulder.

  “About time? Chloe’s been back in Boston since June,” I respond.

  “I always knew from when you two were kids,” Dad says, going on and on about Chlo’s and my childhood adventures as if he could have predicted this outcome.

  Mom winks when I catch her eye and raises her glass to me in silent cheers.

  My family is seriously prouder in this moment than the night the Hawks won the Stanley Cup. My chest tightens uncomfortably at the thought of the Cup, at the realization that I’ll be gearing up for training camps in a few more weeks, at the reality that’s waiting for me.

  This summer, the events, Chloe, have been one hell of a good time. They’ve been a much-needed time out from the constant pressure I feel buried under. But now, reality is waiting and I don’t want to meet it. I glance at my girl, enjoying how content she is chatting with my sister and cousin.

  I take a swig of the beer Noah slid in my hand and grin at my family and friends. I tuck Chloe under my arm and relax a little, try to enjoy the boisterous noise of the Merricks and Crawfords and Scotch brothers surrounding me.

  “Oh, Panda will sort it all out,” my sister says and I tune back into the conversation unfolding around me.

  “Panda will sort what out?” I ask.

  Easton snickers. “Your girl’s best friend is coming to visit next weekend.”

  “The bachelorette party,” I recall.

  “Yep.” Chloe smiles. “Abbi can’t wait to visit Boston and she wants a night out with all of you guys. Preferably some singles thrown in.”

  Indy rolls her eyes. “Trust me, Panda may be all the single she can handle.”

  “Sims will come,” Noah tacks on.

  “Let’s try to convince James,” Claire adds. “He needs to get out more.”

  I nod, biting down hard. My worry increases the moment James Ryan is mentioned. Losing his wife destroyed him. Even though he’s been making strides in his personal life, even coming out to Taps the other week, he’s been in a year-long struggle to make sense of the senselessness of it all while trying to single-parent twins.

  “He was chatting up that bartender the other night,” Indy says, catching my attention.

  “See? This is why it’s good when one of us doesn’t drink.” Claire smiles. “Did he look happy-ish?”

  Indy purses her lips as if she’s thinking it over. “He didn’t seem so…intensely sad.”

  “All right, James comes next weekend,” Chloe decides. “Abbi pulled me through all the shit with Steve. She’s been working her ass off and I owe her an epic, all-out, Boston weekend.”

  Noah nods. “Consider it done, Chlo. We’ll round up the team. When’s your bachelorette?”

  “Friday night,” Chloe responds.

  “Then make sure you’re not too hungover to properly enjoy Saturday night,” Easton snickers.

  Chloe grins and raises her glass. “To next weekend.”

  The whole group cheers and I don’t miss the way Mom’s and Diane’s smiles widen. At everyone’s effortless happiness, some of the anxiety I try to keep at bay crawls back in, pulling in my chest.

  This seems too good to be true. Too easy, too natural, too damn fun.

  I draw in a deep breath and tighten my hold on Chloe. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, I try to embrace this moment. But still, my worry lingers.

  19

  Chloe

  Austin: What are you wearing?

  Me: Cat pajamas.

  My phone rings and I laugh as I answer.

  “Seriously? Cat pajamas?” Austin’s chuckle comes through the line. “You couldn’t even lie to me and pretend to be in some sexy lace?”

  “We said we’d always be honest,” I remind him.

  “Chloe Ann Crawford, I haven’t seen you all week,” he responds.

  “I know.” I pout. It has been a long week. I got buried under deadlines and, after a conversation with my boss on Tuesday, have been exploring some growth opportunities within the newspaper. Austin’s been crazy busy preparing for his upcoming training camps which start in two weeks.

  “How’d your conversation with Janie go?”

  “Good! I don’t want to jinx anything but there may be one or two positions opening up. They’re both entry-level, investigative journalism but I’d be willing to start at the bottom again for a chance to try it out.”

  “That’s awesome, baby.”

  “Yeah.” I grin. “We’ll see what happens but I’m excited.”

  “Good. I’m happy for you. If you keep pushing in that direction, something will give and work out.”

  “I hope so. But I’m also excited to see you on Saturday.”

  “Trust me, I’m counting down the hours. When’s Abbi get into town?”

  I glance at my watch. “Two hours and fifteen minutes, give or take a few.”

  “You really miss her, don’t you?”

  “You have no idea. Abbi Walsh is my person. Through and through.”

  “I get that. We all need a friend who will have our back no matter what.”

  “Is Easton yours?”

  “Since I was thir
teen,” he answers easily. “And you’re kicking the night off where again?”

  I grin at the curiosity burning behind his words. “Why, Austin Merrick, I don’t believe I told you.”

  He laughs. “And you’re not going to, are you?”

  “No way, man. Bachelorette parties are ladies only.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to crash it,” he says quickly. Too quickly.

  “That’s exactly what you’re going to do if I share the details. You’ll have me all to yourself tomorrow but tonight…girls only, Aus.”

  He snickers but agrees to not ask again. “But you’ll call if you need anything, right?”

  “Like a ride?”

  “Like anything,” he repeats, his tone harder than it was a moment ago. “Whatever you need, I’m here, okay?”

  I roll my lips together, a shot of giddiness rocking through me. I like the possessive edge to his words. I like the way he offers himself up like he’s mine. “Okay,” is all I say but God, I want to say so much more.

  Is this for real? Will you worry about me tonight? Do you think of me as much as I think of you?

  “Okay,” he repeats. “Well, I’ll let you go get ready for your reunion with Abbi. But um—”

  “I’ll message you when I get home tonight,” I reassure him, sensing he wants me to but doesn’t know how to ask without sounding needy.

  “Thank you.”

  “‘Bye, Aus.” I end the call.

  Then I flip on some music, slide my closet door open, and try on a ridiculous amount of dress options until the doorbell rings and Mom announces Abbi’s arrival.

  I fly down the stairs, grinning the moment I see my best friend, with her dark brown hair and light brown eyes. “You’re here! You’re here!”

  “Missed you, bitch!” she shouts back, shooting my mom a glance. “Sorry, Mrs. C.”

  Mom snorts and gestures between us. “I’ll go grab you a bottle of wine.”

  Abbi laughs as I rush her, the two of us hugging each other like we’ve been separated for years instead of weeks. “Missed you,” I tell her.

  “God, you have no idea, Chlo. I need that bottle of wine and then some.”