The Troublemaker (Players on Ice Book 8)

by Cathryn Fox

  “Whoa, are you serious?”

  “You want to bet, we bet big.”

  “Fine then, my Dodge Hemi it is. What are you putting up if you don’t follow through?”

  “I don’t date for a month.”

  “Make it six.”

  “Fine, six,” I say. I’ve got this with Kinsley. Yes, I like her and we’re having great sex, but I can’t fall for her, and no way is she going to fall for me. I can’t let her. I’ll only hurt her in the end like I do with everyone else.

  “Six what?” Kinsley says, poking her head back into the room.

  “Oh, nothing. Just a stupid bet Cole and I made.” I shove my phone into my back pocket. “Ready?”

  She steps up to me and puts her hand on my chest. “Yes, but I’m dreading it.”

  I put my arm around her and lead her outside, to my sports car in the driveway. Soon I’ll have Cole’s precious car next to it. I grin as I think about that.

  “Something funny?”

  “Nope, ah, I forgot to mention, everyone is going to the cottage on the weekend. Great spot on Watauga Beach. I have a cottage there.”

  “Oh, how nice.”

  “Do you want to come? It’s fun, with all the families and kids, and dogs.”

  “It actually sounds like fun, but me taking two vacations in one month, or one year is pretty much unheard of.”

  Disappointment settles in my stomach. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “But you know, my new assistant is working out pretty good, and maybe I can arrange it.”

  I smile, and she returns it. “Great, I’ll let the others know. You’re going to love it.” I spend the next fifteen minutes telling her all about the cottages, the water, and fishing and shopping.

  “You really like it there, huh?”

  “I get to spend time with my two nephews, and all the kids get along. We have a big bonfire every night, and there will be s’mores.”

  “Cason, you should have opened with that,” she says, and I laugh.

  When it dies down, she says, “My father can be pretty intimidating. You should probably know that, and that he’s probably going to interrogate you. I’m sorry in advance.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been up against some pretty intimidating guys on the ice. I think I can handle your father.”

  “Okay,” she says, sounding unconvinced. “We should only have to have this one dinner. They both work twenty-four seven, so I won’t have to ask more than this from you.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  A few minutes later I park at the restaurant, and we exit my car. She glances around the lot. “I think we’re early, which is good. I’ll need a drink or ten for this.”

  “Tequila?” I tease.

  “Hell, no. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

  “But we’re making the best of it,” I say and put my arm around her. She relaxes into me, like she’s seeking my comfort and I’m happy to give it to her. I actually hate that her parents expect her to live the life they want for her, instead of living it the way she wants and on her terms. I’d tell them to stuff their damn trust fund. But I have money in my bank, and she doesn’t, so I’m going to help her out the best way I can.

  Her body grows stiffer as we approach the door, and I give her a little squeeze to let her know I’m here. She smiles up at me, as I open the door to the posh Italian restaurant and usher her in.

  “Nice place,” I say when we enter.

  “Mom’s favorite,” she tells me as a hostess checks our names and leads us to our table. Drink menus are placed in front of us, but before we can open them, her parents come in behind us.

  “Dad, Mom,” she says and stands to give them the world’s most awkward hug. All eyes turn to me when they break apart and I stand for the introduction. “This is Cason Callaghan. My husband. Cason, this is my Dad and Mom, Arthur and Lilith.” I extend my arm, and her father slides his beefy palm into mine as his eyes narrow in on me.

  “Cason Callaghan,” he says. “So nice to meet you in person.” He gives me a firm shake and pulls his hand away. “I’ve seen you play.”

  “Fan of hockey?”

  “Actually, no. I only looked you up after my daughter kindly informed me, over the phone nonetheless, that she married you.”

  Alright then. “Well it’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Palmer.” I wait for him to tell me to call him by his first name. He is, after all, my father-in-law, but the offer doesn’t come. I turn my attention to Kinsley’s mother. Her lips are pressed tight, forming a thin pink line. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Palmer.”

  “Likewise, I’m sure.”

  Wow, tough crowd.

  I sit down next to Kinsley and put my hand on her thigh, and she grasps it in her sweaty palm. My entire body clenches, hating that she’s so nervous about this.

  “So, hockey.” Her father focuses in on me. “How do your parents feel about that?” he asks

  “Supportive. Hockey is my passion, and they supported that all through my life. I wouldn’t be a professional without them.”

  I can almost hear him rolling his eyes in his mind, not at all impressed by my career choice, like chasing a puck around the ice is a child’s game. But I make a good living and I’m willing to help his daughter—my wife—out when she needs the help.

  Kinsley sits up a little straighter. “They won the Stanley Cup this year, Dad.” I take in the eagerness in her eyes as she stares up at her father. After everything, she’s still seeking his approval, but this time it’s for me. I don’t need it. Nor do I want it.

  “And that is impressive?” he asks.

  I almost laugh at that, but that wouldn’t do Kinsley any good. “I guess not,” I say. “What’s impressive is Kinsley’s skills in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, she makes a great taco. So we’ve heard,” her mom says, a hint of disgust attached to her words.

  My jaw drops. “Are you saying you’ve never tasted them, never eaten at her truck?”

  “We don’t eat at trucks, dear,” Lilith says.

  “You’re definitely missing out.”

  “It’s okay,” Kinsley says quietly. “They don’t like street food.”

  “Maybe not, but I bet they’ll love your new restaurant food. The place is going to be cozy, inviting, and have sit down tables with service.” Kinsley’s body goes so tight, I’m worried she’s going to snap something. What the hell?

  “What’s this about a new restaurant?” her father asks, and my heart drops. Shit, was I not supposed to mention that? Fuck me. Here I go saying the wrong things again.

  “It’s something I want to do in the future, Dad,” she says, and reaches for her water glass. Her diamond sparkles in the overhead light.

  Her mother lifts her chin to see it. “That’s the ring?”

  “It is. Isn’t it beautiful,” Kinsley says as she examines it.

  “Lovely, dear. Perfect for a Vegas wedding. I suppose Elvis was there?” She gives a humorless laugh. “Your grandmother would have loved that.”

  Wow, shitty fucking parents.

  “It was a last minute thing, Mom. A spur of the moment decision.”

  Lilith gives a glare of disapproval. “Yes, you’re very good at those.”

  I put my arm around Kinsley. “I couldn’t wait one more second to make her my bride.”

  “Why, is she pregnant?” her father asks, and my temper flares. Is he fucking serious? The disrespect they have for Kinsley makes me want to pummel something. What the fuck is wrong with them?

  “No, I’m not pregnant.”

  “Thank God for that,” her father bursts out.

  “Don’t you want grandkids?” I ask.

  The server comes back and we all give our drink order. When we’re alone again, her mother says, “Kinsley’s made enough mistakes.”

  I take a deep breath, and hold it for a second, hoping it will extinguish the fire brewing in my belly. How the hell can they be so rude to their daughter? I shift a litt
le closer to her, and present a united front.

  “Not in my eyes. I think Kinsley is living her dream life.”

  She smiles up at me, and my heart pinches tight. “It’s important to follow your passion, don’t you think?” I ask her parents.

  Instead of answering, her mother says, “We’ll have a proper reception in our garden. I’ll make the arrangements.” She looks at me. “Your parents will come, I assume.”

  I shift, a bit uncomfortable. “Well, they’ll probably be away,” I say. “They vacation in the Med this time of year.”

  She stares at me for a second, like she’s not sure whether she believes me or not, then says, “Siblings and friends?”

  I nod. “I have a sister and Kinsley and I have many friends.”

  “Fine, I’ll get the invitations made up and you see to it that they land in the hands of those you’d like to attend.”

  “We don’t need—” Kinsley begins, and her mother cuts her off.

  “You ran off and got married, Kinsley. How do you think that looks to our family and friends?”

  “When you’re in love, you’re in love,” I say. “I talked her into it.”

  “Then talk her into a proper reception,” her father says. He looks at Kinsley over his glasses. “That’s hardly an act that proves you’re a grown up.”

  “I am a grown up, Dad. I’m twenty-six years old.”

  “Your actions speak louder than words, don’t you think?”

  “I actually do think that’s true,” I say. “Our actions proved we love each other, and couldn’t wait to be married.”

  Her father practically dismisses me when he says, “Yes, well. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

  Just. Wow.

  I’d take my parents and their lack of affection, and lack of interest in my life over these two any day. My heart goes out to Kinsley. No one should ever be treated the way they’re treating her.

  “I think a reception is a great idea,” I say, and Kinsley’s eyes widen.

  “You do?” she asks quietly.

  “Of course.” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it.

  “You don’t have—”

  “I want to.”

  Our drinks come and I’d like to down the scotch in one mouthful. Instead, I sip it, since I don’t want to be judged any more than I am. They can do and say what they want about me, but I’m going to defend Kinsley with everything in me.

  Her father sits back in his seat, his gaze sliding back and forth between the two of us, a careful assessment. I meet his stare. I’m sure in the courthouse he’s an intimidating man, but he doesn’t scare me. I think he’s a big fucking bully and I don’t like bullies.

  “You know,” he begins. “Evan made partner at the firm. He’s doing quite well for himself.”

  “Yes, he’s doing great things,” her mother says.

  “Good for him,” Kinsley says, her chin high.

  “When was the last time you two talked?”

  “We don’t talk. We’re over. He broke it off with me, remember?”

  “Yes, well, you surprised us all, Kinsley. What was he supposed to do?”

  “Support her,” I pipe in.

  “I believe he was just trying to give you a wakeup call,” her father says.

  “Do you think him telling me I wasn’t special was a wakeup call? He was only with me to climb the ladder, Dad,” She counters, her voice rising an octave, her frustration written all over her face.

  “He just didn’t want you to get off course.” Her mother casts me a quick glance. “If you get back on it…”

  No way. No fucking way. They’re really sitting here trying to get Kinsley back with her asshole ex while her husband is right here beside her—supporting her.

  Fuck this shit.

  “Lucky for me they never worked out. Now I get to call this beautiful woman my wife.”

  “We’re very happy,” Kinsley says as her parents glare at her.

  “Oh, we’re definitely happy,” I say. “I plan to do whatever it takes to put a smile on Kinsley’s face.”

  For the next few weeks, anyway.

  10

  Kinsley

  “I am so sorry,” Cason says when we step outside.

  I glance up at him and frown as he shakes his head, incredulously. “You’re sorry. What do you have to be sorry about? You did well in there, and I’m the one who should be sorry for subjecting you to them.”

  “Kins,” he says. “They’re your parents, I get it, but man, they really don’t respect your choices. I’m sorry for that.”

  I glance at my feet. “I know. I’m a huge disappointment to them.”

  He touches my chin and lifts it an inch. “Are you disappointed in yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Remember this. A lot of people won’t see your worth. Just make sure you’re not one of them.”

  My heart beats a little faster. “Thanks, Cason. The truth is, I love what I do, but…” I put my hand on my stomach, to soothe the ache that always flares after spending time with my parents. “It hurts that they care more about my image and how it affects the family, than my well-being.” A car door closes, and I briefly look away. “You don’t have to go through with the reception. I’ll figure out a way for us to get out of it.”

  “Like hell. I’m going. I’m not going to let them get the better of us by not showing and giving them something else to throw back in your face.”

  My gaze flies back to his. “Cason—”

  “Are we about to have our second argument, Mrs. Kinsley Elizabeth Palmer-Callaghan?” he asks playfully.

  I laugh. “No. I’m tapping out. You always seem to get your way somehow.”

  “I plan to have my way with you later. But I just want to say, let’s go through with it, let’s charm the pants off your parents and their friends. We’ll show them how happy you are with your decisions and the direction of your life.”

  The thing is, I actually am happy. Happy with my food truck, my plans for a restaurant. Happy when I’m with Cason. But I’d be wise to remember what this is and what this isn’t.

  “Want to see something?” I ask and his gaze drops to my chest. The heat in his eyes trickles through me, and awakens all my girly parts.

  “Ah, yeah. Did you not hear me when I said I plan to have my way with you?”

  I whack him. “I’m not talking about my boobs, Cason.”

  “Jeez, is that all you think about, Kinsley?” He feigns exasperation. “I wouldn’t have married you if I’d known you were a sex addict.”

  “Puh-lease, that would have gotten you to the altar faster,” I shoot back.

  He laughs. “Okay, what do you want to show me? Although nothing will live up to my expectations now.”

  “How about the space I want for my restaurant? Will that be a good second?”

  “Actually, yeah. I’d love to see it.”

  “Let’s head to Pike’s Place.”

  We hurry to his car, and the sun is low on the horizon as we drive downtown and find parking. The market is closing up, vendors putting their fares away for another day by the time we arrive.

  “How about we hop on the Seattle Wheel. Take a look at the city from the sky.”

  I laugh. He knows full well I’m afraid of heights, but I always do end up enjoying myself. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

  “I’m actually enjoying getting to know you better.”

  “I’m enjoying getting to know you better too, although your life is an open book, Cason. They write about you in the papers enough.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read,” he says as we walk the downtown streets.

  “Right here,” I say and slide my hand into his to drag him around the corner. We come across a newly renovated building, merely a few blocks from the waterfront. I smile up at Cason, then peer into the window. He stands next to me, the scent of his freshly showered skin teasing my senses.

  “This is it, huh?” he asks.
>
  I nod. “I think it’s perfect. I honestly can’t even believe it hasn’t been rented yet. It’s such an amazing location.” I step back. “I can almost see my sign hanging right over the door.”

  “Have you been inside?” he asks.

  “No.” I crinkle my nose. “I don’t want to get myself too excited, you know.”

  He shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt to just look.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  He looks into the window. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

  My head snaps up. “For what?”

  “I opened my big mouth and mentioned the restaurant to your parents. I told you, I have a knack for saying the wrong things.”

  “It’s okay.” I nudge him playfully. “You can make it up to me later.”

  A wide smile lights up his handsome face. “My pleasure.”

  “Mine, too,” I say and chuckle.

  He shoves his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in on me. “How come you didn’t want them to know?”

  “I think they still hold out hope that I’ll fail at this and realize I need to go back to law school. I can’t even believe they brought up Evan, right in front of you, like now that he’s a partner, I’ll go running back to him.”

  “That was a douche move, for sure, and you won’t fail at this Kinsley.”

  I smile. “I love your faith in me.”

  “I’ve eaten your food. It’s amazing.”

  “Wait, did you just call my folks douches?”

  “Sorry.”

  I laugh. “Maybe it’s your honesty that gets you into trouble.”

  “It could be. I probably shouldn’t have said that. You mad?”

  “No, and I know my food is good, I just hope my truck holds together for a little while longer.” I turn back to the restaurant. “I’d rather put the money into this, over the truck.”

  “Tell me how you’d design it,” he says, and I love the interest on his face. It’s real and genuine, and for a minute makes me forget that while we’re actually married, we’re in a pretend relationship.

  I throw my hands up and animatedly tell him everything I want to do. From sourcing locally, with the market being so close, to helping those living on the streets. This is such a perfect location for that.