by Barbara Gee
“I’ve been fortunate. Before this concussion, my only halfway serious injuries were a broken collarbone and two broken fingers. And those all happened when I was still in high school.”
Jolene nodded slowly. “Your movement is so fluid and powerful. I could study your body for weeks and not get tired of it.”
“I might even let you,” he teased.
Realizing what she’d said, Jolene felt her cheeks get hot. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she said hastily. “It’s just that I’m kind of a geek when it comes to the human body. I was reading anatomy books in the fifth grade. I’m in awe of how we’re made, how every little part works with the whole. Most of the clients I work with are seeing me because they’re having some kind of issue due to injury, so I don’t very often get to study the body unmarred and working exactly as intended. When I watch you move, I see the perfection of God’s design.” She shrugged, her smile apologetic. “I’m sorry, I can’t help but admire it. Some people are inspired by rainbows or a beautiful landscape or a mountain waterfall. For me, the human body is the best demonstration of God’s greatness.”
His smile was easy and relaxed. “Well then, I guess I’m glad I can serve as your inspiration.”
“I’ve worked with a lot of athletes, just none that are on your level. It’s like having a stable full of race horses that you think are pretty great, and then all of a sudden the triple-crown winner comes gliding in. Suddenly you’re faced with perfection, and it’s cool to see up close just how incredible one horse can be.”
“This race horse could do with a little harder head.”
She grinned. “Your head will be fine when I’m done with you.”
He stopped walking and looked down, his gaze locking with hers. “Thanks for giving me some hope, Jolene. The timing of the concussion—with trying to make the play-offs and some other things I have going on—it couldn’t have been worse. But being here feels right. I’m glad I came.”
“Me too. And our wounded warriors are going to be so thrilled. I can’t wait to see the faces of the group when they realize they’re going to get one-on-one time with you.”
He stepped off the machine and accepted the towel she held out. “I hope I don’t disappoint them.”
She tilted her head and gave him a disbelieving look. “How could they be disappointed?”
“Maybe they don’t like the Minnesota Wild. They might prefer someone else.”
“I’m willing to bet money we won’t have any complaints,” Jolene said confidently. “Now get out of here. I promised I wouldn’t make you miss any of the game, and I always keep my promises.”
He dropped the towel in a laundry bin by the wall. “I’m going. And I checked out a car, so I don’t need a ride. I’ll see you soon, pizza in hand.”
“Okay. I have plenty of stuff to drink, so don’t worry about bringing anything else.” Jolene gathered up her clipboard and cuff. “You remember where the pizza place is?”
“I hope so. I’d hate to get lost in the massive business district of Barlow.”
She laughed. “Call me if you do. I’ll come rescue you.”
Jolene went to her office and sank into her chair with a long exhale. She gave herself five minutes to decompress and think through all the emotions Boone made her feel. Inviting him to her house had not been a smart thing to do. Too much Boone too soon was already sending her for a loop, and now she was facing another three or four hours with him.
Feeling worried and overwhelmed, she went to her fallback, the thing she always did when life felt a little out of control. She bowed her head and prayed, asking for strength and guidance, and for an extra dose of wisdom when it came to dealing with Boone Kendall.
CHAPTER 9
Jolene gazed around her living room, trying to picture it through Boone’s eyes. It was spotlessly clean, as was her whole house, because that’s just how she was. The hardwood floor was original to the house, and polished to a golden gleam. Her dark brown leather sofa and matching recliner went well with the big area rug in shades of brown and cream with splashes of red. Her accent color in the room was also red, by way of throw pillows and some nice prints on the walls, as well an assortment of lovely red clay pots she’d found at a farmers market. The pots held bright green plants to give the room more color and freshness.
She thought everything had come together pretty well over the last few months, but as she looked around, she couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. Decorating aside, she was almost positive Boone would only notice one thing.
The sixty inch TV that dominated the one windowless wall in the room was perhaps a little unexpected for a single gal’s living room, but watching sports, namely hockey of course, was the indulgence she allowed herself more frequently than any other, and for that nothing but a sizeable TV would do.
The scent of chocolate wafted in from the kitchen, and she hurried to check on the pan of homemade brownies in the oven. In her opinion, there was nothing more welcoming than a house that smelled of something baking. It reminded her of her childhood home. Even now, her mother usually had something in the oven to greet her when she visited. Jolene hoped that someday her own kids would come running into the house saying what she’d said a thousand times when she was young. Mmm, Mom, what smells so good?
The brownies needed another few minutes. Jolene set the timer so she wouldn’t forget them, then carried plates and napkins out to the living room. She moved a stack of magazines to the side of the coffee table, clearing a space. The table was large and topped with glass, perfect for holding a pizza box.
She turned on the TV and went to the channel that listed all the games for the night, and which channel they’d be on. It wasn’t exactly cheap to subscribe to the hockey cable package, but it was the only way she could be guaranteed to see every Wild game.
The pre-game show drew her in, and she stood there listening. The Wild would be playing the Colorado Avalanche, and it promised to be a good game. It was unreal that she’d be watching it with her favorite player.
When the oven timer beeped, Jolene walked toward the kitchen, quickly changing course when the doorbell rang. Her heart started beating a little faster, and she gave herself a stern talking to as she hurried to the front door. Boone was a new friend, that was all. She was allowed to enjoy the game with a friend. The disconcerting thing was that the man at her front door just happened to be the very man whose name adorned the back of the jersey she was wearing.
She opened the door, her breath catching at the sight of a smiling Boone holding a large pizza box.
“You’ll be relieved to know I had no trouble finding Ty’s Pies, and this baby is steaming hot right from the oven.”
Jolene laughed and stood back so he could enter. “Perfect. You can put it on the coffee table,” she said, pointing.
His eyes went immediately to the big TV, his smile growing. “Now this is the way to watch hockey.” He put the pizza on the table, then looked at her, his eyes widening. “Wow, something smells so good. And it’s not the pizza.”
Just then the oven timer let off another series of beeps. “I have brownies in the oven. Come on into the kitchen and choose something to drink,” Jolene said, hurrying to rescue their dessert.
She was pulling the pan from the oven when Boone joined her, his height and wide shoulders making her kitchen seem suddenly small.
“That looks amazing,” he said, eyeing the pan full of chocolatey goodness.
Jolene gave him a smile. “We’ll let them cool while we eat the pizza.” She tugged open the refrigerator door. “Help yourself to something to drink. Sorry if you’re used to beer with your pizza. I don’t drink alcohol, but I should have thought to pick some up for you.”
“I rarely drink myself. This is fine,” he said, grabbing a bottle of green tea. “What do you want?”
“Same thing,” Jolene said, taking two glasses from the cupboard and filling them with ice from the dispenser in the fridge door.
He waited for her, his green eyes glinting. “Nice jersey, by the way.”
She gave him a sideways look. “I seriously considered not wearing it tonight. I don’t want my fandom to go to your head. But I always wear it when I watch games, and it might bring bad luck if I don’t.”
“And the team doesn’t need any more of that,” he said, following her back out to the living room.
“Sit wherever you like,” she invited, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up a bit since the game was about to start.
“I tend to sit on the edge of my seat during the games, so the couch is fine.” He sat toward one end, leaving easy access to the pizza on the coffee table. Jolene took the other end, opening the box and motioning for him to help himself.
“The size of your TV is fantastic,” he remarked. “I was afraid you’d have a tiny little screen.”
“Glad you approve,” she said drily.
“You’re every guys’ dream girl, Jolene. A big TV, chocolatey things in the oven, and you look fantastic in a hockey jersey.”
She slid a slice of pizza onto her plate. “And where does personality come into the picture for this dream girl?”
He grinned. “No worries. You’ve got that, too.”
“Hmm. Thanks. I think.” She took a bite, enjoying the taste of warm cheese, spicy pepperoni, and Ty’s secret recipe pizza sauce.
“How’s your head?”
“Good. Hardly any pain. Let’s hope the team plays well so my blood pressure doesn’t spike.”
“So you do sometimes notice an increase of pain when you’re extra stressed?”
He shrugged. “I always feel stressed. But maybe not so much today. Today was a good day.”
* * *
Boone looked over and saw Jolene’s approving smile. He knew her plans for him involved a reduction in stress, and she obviously believed the Full Heart Ranch could provide that environment for him. For reasons only he knew, he wasn’t so sure her plan would succeed. But right now, sitting in this comfortable, welcoming home that smelled of chocolate and pizza, with a beautiful girl to his left and hockey on the big screen in front of him, he felt almost as stress-free as he did when he was at the lake during the off-season.
It wouldn’t last, he knew that, but for now he refused to let his thoughts wander away from this one room. He would enjoy the next three hours, and worry about everything else later.
The national anthem played, and Boone switched his attention to the screen, watching as the camera moved down the line of players. He fought the sense of loss he felt at not standing there with them. Injuries happened, everyone knew that, but he still felt like he was letting them down by not bouncing back. The team had been poised to make the play-offs for the first time in five years, but since he’d been sidelined, they’d lost ten of fifteen games and were barely hanging on to a wildcard spot.
“You’ll be back in the fall, Boone. Don’t doubt that.”
He glanced over at her and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I just hate that I punched out right when we were playing our best.”
“That’s on the guy who cross-checked you when you were down. You did nothing to bring about your injury, and no one knows why some people experience post-concussion syndrome.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “But there are some really good ideas on curing it, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
He smiled crookedly. “Are pizza and brownies on that list of ideas?”
“Of course,” she said lightly. “As are vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup, to go on top of the brownies.”
“I like your cures, Miss Tolley. And I like your house. Thanks again for letting me come over.”
“Thanks for bringing the pizza.”
The ref dropped the puck and they talked of nothing but the game until the first period ended. The Wild had started a little slow, but by the end of the period they had picked it up, and the score was tied at one.
Jolene took advantage of the twenty minute intermission and hopped up to carry the empty pizza box and their plates out to the kitchen. Boone stood and stretched, deciding if he couldn’t actually be on the ice for the game, watching it with Jolene was the next best thing. Unfortunately, he knew only too well that his rapidly growing attraction to her could pose a whole new set of problems. Nothing was easy, it seemed.
He went to join her in the kitchen. She’d already disposed of the pizza box and put their plates in the sink, and was currently taking a container of ice cream from the freezer.
“Ready for dessert?” she asked, her dark eyes sparkling.
Boone felt a jolt to his chest when their eyes met. The girl was all kinds of adorable. Her dark hair was loose tonight, tucked behind her ears and so shiny and soft looking he couldn’t help but want to touch it. She also made his jersey look far better than he ever had, and her long, lean legs looked fantastic in black skinny jeans. She had the kind of body that made even the most simple outfits look sexy, and the urge to take the ice cream from her hands and pull her against his chest was almost overwhelming.
He cleared his throat and realized she had asked him a question. “Uh, yeah, I’m pretty much always ready for dessert,” he told her.
She pressed her hands to the sides of the brownie pan, then rummaged in a drawer, smiling happily as she held up a flimsy plastic picnic knife. “I was hoping I still had one of these. The brownies are still warm, and cutting them with a regular knife makes a mess. They stick to the blade and get all ripped up. But with this little beauty, we’ll slice right through.”
He frowned. “I can’t believe the knife makes a difference,” he said.
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I see you’re one of those people who need proof.” After making a long, straight, smooth cut the length of the pan, she took a knife out of the block on the counter. “Now you try,” she invited.
He accepted the real knife and slid the pan closer to where he stood. With full confidence he sliced his own line, chuckling when the knife drew up clumps, just as she’d predicted.
She grinned. “So now you know, Boonzy.”
He smiled at her use of his player nickname, watching as she efficiently cut the rest of the pan into neat squares with the little plastic knife. “I’m gonna need two or three of those,” he told her. “I haven’t had homemade brownies fresh from the oven in years.”
“I’ll send the leftovers home with you,” she promised.
A moment later she held out a plate loaded with three brownies, topped with generous scoops of ice cream and drizzles of thick, rich chocolate sauce.
“Will this do?”
“It’ll do just fine.” He took a bite while she fixed her own, much smaller plate. “Holy cow, Jolene. This is fantastic. Did you put chocolate chips in the brownies?”
“Sure did. You can never have too much chocolate, right?” She put the ice cream away and picked up her plate. “Let’s get back in there. I have a good feeling about this game. I think the Wild are going to have a great second period.”
“I think you might be right.”
Her prediction proved correct. The Wild scored twice in the second period, but they faltered in the third. The Avalanche caught up and with five minutes to go, the score was again tied, this time three to three. Both Jolene and Boone were perched on the edge of the couch, Jolene wringing her hands and Boone muttering under his breath, giving his teammates instructions that did them no good.
With thirty seconds to go in the game he saw their chance. “Take it Jax! Tobes is open. Go to Tobes!”
Jax faked a shot, then sent a beautiful pass cross ice to his teammate, whose gorgeous one-timer found the back of the net. Ten seconds after that the game was over and the Wild had a huge win. Jolene leapt to her feet, jumping and cheering. Boone grinned at her but stayed in his seat, watching as the guys lined up to each take a turn congratulating their goalie, Conner, by tapping the front of their helmet against his. Conner’s smile was big, and it should be. He’d had some huge saves that had all
owed them to go away with the win.
“That was such an important win,” Jolene said, beaming down at him. “Closer than I’d like, but that’s only because you weren’t playing.”
“Ya think?” he asked, wishing he had played a role in bringing this girl so much joy. She was so beautiful, her smile so warm and genuine it made his stomach clench. Breathtaking. And just like that he was done fighting it. He stood up and reached for her, taking hold of her waist and pulling her slowly closer.
Her eyes grew wide and she quickly splayed her hands on his chest, keeping him from closing the distance. For a long moment their eyes held, and then she looked down, twisting her fingers in the cotton of his shirt.
“We can’t, Boone,” she said quietly, her voice a little shaky. “We can’t.”
“I know what you’re going to say,” he murmured, feeling the warmth of her skin through the jersey she wore. “We need to keep things professional between us.”
She nodded and looked up again, not trying to hide the fact that she wanted it as much as he did. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and he felt the light tremor that passed through her, but instead of giving in and stepping closer, she pulled away.
“I have to be careful, Boone. I signed a contract with your team owner and I want to live up to it. I can’t let you past the friend zone.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, taking a step back. It was awfully tempting to try to change her mind, and in spite of what she said, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t take much to get that goodnight kiss. Problem was, she’d regret it after, which would really suck. Besides, she was right. Jumping into something more than friendship so soon could go bad and end up making things strained between them.
“It’s not that I’m not tempted,” she admitted, gripping her upper arms. “I just don’t want to do anything rash. I’m still a little star-struck, and having you in my living room is kind of overwhelming.”
He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, wincing a little at her words. “I don’t want you to be star-struck. It’s just me, Jolene. A normal guy who happens to play hockey.”
