by Aven Ellis
Then he tosses me the keys to his Range Rover.
“Gah, no, my car is old,” I declare.
“Livy, stop. I’m not going to throw up.”
I give him the side eye and head into the kitchen, pulling out a trash bag and a roll of paper towels.
“Just in case.”
Landon shoots me a half-smile. “I thought you could just roll down the window.”
“Gross!” I laugh.
Landon manages a small laugh, but immediately groans afterward. “Ouch, that hurts. I ache all over.”
“Come on, the sooner you go, the quicker we can get home,” I say.
I drive Landon over to the Buffaloes’ practice facility. He sits with his head against the passenger window, and I know he feels awful being in the car.
Landon directs me to player parking at the rink, and I slide into a spot next to Pierre’s silver Lamborghini.
“You can wait in the headquarters waiting area,” Landon says, opening the door.
I nod. The Buffaloes built a huge complex, one that houses the headquarters for the team as well as a practice rink and training facilities.
We head inside, and I already see the fans lined up to enter the rink to watch practice. The Buffaloes always have it open for people to watch, which I think is really cool for building a relationship with the fans and community.
“Landy!”
Fans immediately start yelling and taking pictures. Crap, of all the days, Landon doesn’t need this.
Landon forces a smile and waves, and then we duck into the corporate offices.
And as soon as I look up at him, the green look has reappeared.
“Go,” I urge him. “I’m fine.”
Landon nods and nearly sprints to the closest restroom.
I cringe. Landon is so sick. He shouldn’t even be here.
But that’s a hockey player for you. Landon told me he’s played through a lot of pain because it’s what you do. But there’s no way you can play through a violent stomach virus, and it’s the only thing I know that could take Landon down without a huge protest on his part.
I make myself comfortable in the lounge, outlining what I need to get done this week. Pucks, Pinot, and Purses is next week, when the Buffaloes are on the road for an up and back game, and then I have the infamous Puppy Party a few days later. I’ll be finished with the tags for Princess Alessandra this week, so that’s ahead of schedule. I’ve also completed the custom champagne bottles for the party, too.
Next, I have to decide what pieces I’m going to show at the fundraiser. Oh, I need to tell Collins she has to help me, and that’s my way of making sure she doesn’t bail out of going.
About an hour later, Landon returns. I stand up, noticing he looks incredibly exhausted. And he’s carrying a box of saltines in his hand.
“I’m dying,” Landon groans. “I have nothing left to puke.”
“So the doctor gave you crackers?” I ask.
Landon sighs. “And an IV, diagnosis of a stomach virus, and I’m told to go home and sleep and drink fluids. And see if I can keep these down.”
I gather up my stuff and retrieve his keys. “Let’s go home.”
We head outside, and as we do, I notice fans whip out their cell phones to take pictures of Landon.
It suddenly hits me that Landon can never be “off” in public. Landon is sick as hell, puking his guts out, and fans are yelling at him and snapping pictures of him carrying a box of crackers.
“Landy, what are the crackers for?”
“Where are you going?”
“Landy! Will you sign?”
“Do you like crackers?”
Landon clears his throat. “Sorry, guys, I’m sick. I don’t want to give you anything,” he says as we keep walking.
“Oh my God, I don’t care if I get sick!”
“Asshole.”
I grit my teeth, but Landon is oblivious to it all. As soon as we’re back in the car, I vent.
“So you’re an asshole for not wanting to get people sick?” I spit out.
“Livy, let it roll off. Someone is always going to think I’m an asshole. I don’t care.”
“I do!”
Landon studies me from the passenger side. “I love that your nose is creasing on my behalf.”
Despite my annoyance, I smile.
“And we’ll check social media later for entertainment,” Landon says. “You know, with rumors on why I was leaving practice early with a box of crackers. Now that is newsworthy. And scandalous. Landon Holder with a box of CRACKERS.”
“Ooooooooooh,” I say as I turn on the engine. “Crackergate!”
Landon starts to laugh but abruptly stops. “Don’t make me laugh,” he groans. “I might puke. And I swear I have nothing left to puke up.”
We both laugh softly at that.
I get him home and put him right into bed. Then I climb in beside him, stroking his hair as we face each other.
“You need to sleep,” I murmur softly, running my fingers over his jet-black locks. “You’re exhausted. I’m worried about you.”
“You can go,” Landon says, studying me. “I’m just going to sleep.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not leaving you. I’m taking care of you, Landon. If I leave, it will only be to run out and get something that you need, okay? Other than that, I’m right here.”
I see the same shift I saw earlier in his eyes. My heart holds still as the vulnerable expression returns. And to my surprise, Landon’s vivid blue eyes grow glossy.
“Livy,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, “nobody has ever wanted to take care of me before.”
I realize he’s speaking of his past. Of his mother being unable to care for him. How his aunt stepped in because she had to, but not because she wanted to.
I fight back my own tears before speaking. “I want to, Landon. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Landon’s eyes remain steady on mine. “You have no idea what this means to me,” he manages to get out.
“I do,” I say softly. “And I’m happy to be here. There’s nowhere else I want to be.”
Landon nods.
I run my hand down the side of his face, feeling his feverish skin, and begin stroking his hair.
“Close your eyes,” I whisper.
Landon does as he’s told, and within a few minutes, he’s sleeping.
I continue to touch him, thinking of all the pain in his past and how he’s opening up to me right now. How he’s shown a vulnerable side. How Landon is willing to open his heart to hurt again, all because of me.
I love you, I think as I touch him. And I will love you, stand by you, and take care of you for the rest of your life if you will let your heart love me.
And with that thought in my head, I watch the man I love sleep.
Chapter 27
TriviaPlayOrPass!
What soup is also known as “Jewish Penicillin?”
“I’m so glad you’re over that virus,” Aubrey says, helping me set up my table in the ballroom of a chic downtown hotel for Pucks, Pinot, and Purses. “Because you had to be here tonight. For multiple reasons.”
I nod. It’s a few hours before the fundraiser evening, and I’m with Aubrey and Collins setting up my jewelry display.
And I know by multiple reasons she means showing Kayla I’m going to be a presence in Buffaloes WAGS activities, whether she approves or not.
I decide I don’t want to think about Kayla now. I’ve seen her floating about the room in a gorgeous designer dress, mingling with the other vendors and WAGS, but I don’t care. Not when I have to get ready for this event.
I shift my thoughts back to Landon.
; “Landon really took care of me,” I say truthfully, arranging my bracelets on the display fabric I’ve spread out.
“Well he’s the one who made you sick, so he had to take good care of you,” Collins teases.
I grin. “Okay, fair point, but do you know what he did after practice one day? He asked me what I wanted, and I said my mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup. So he called my mom, went over there, and had her and Nana show him how to make it. That is taking care of someone to a whole new level.”
Aubrey stares at me, her mouth slightly open. “Landy made soup with your mom?”
I can feel a stupid grin spreading across my face. “Yeah.” Then I laugh. “When he came back, he was so excited that he can make his own noodles now. Nana taught him.”
I watch as Collins and Aubrey exchange a look.
“What?” I ask, wrinkling my brow.
“If he hasn’t told you he loves you, he’s going to very soon,” Collins predicts. “Because nothing says love like cooking from scratch.”
I feel heat climb up my neck and into my cheeks. “Whatever.”
“He made you soup. He made noodles. With your mom,” Aubrey says. “Trust me, when I met Landy a few months ago, he had no desire to meet anyone’s mom, let alone want to go hang out and make soup with one.”
Happiness fills me. “I know,” I say softly.
“I love that he’s sooooo in love with you,” Aubrey declares, taking another Alice in Wonderland-inspired necklace out of a box.
“Shhhh,” I say quickly. “You don’t know that!”
“Oh, I know. So does Collins,” Aubrey says, inclining her head.
“I do,” Collins says as she drapes a necklace over a display form.
“And so does Beckett,” Aubrey adds.
I’m about to ask for details on that when my phone vibrates. I pick it up.
“It’s Landon,” I say quickly. “He was going to call me before he heads out to dinner.”
“Oh, no, totally not love,” Collins teases.
“Stop!” I say, grinning. I move away from the table and answer it.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, Pumpkin Pie, how’s the set up going?” Landon teases.
“Hey, Gum Drop, it’s going great,” I say, teasing him back. “The table is coming together, and the pieces look fantastic.”
“Will you send me a video of it when we’re off the phone?”
Joy sweeps over me. I love that he’s so interested in what I do. “Okay. How are you?”
“I’m heading out to grab a bite with Becks, Pierre, and Ballerini,” Landon says. “Some Italian place Pierre likes here in Cleveland.”
“Mmm, sounds good,” I say. “I’m going to be surviving on appetizers. I haven’t had any time to eat.”
“Livy,” Landon says seriously, “please eat. Aubrey and Collins can hold down the fort.”
“No, I’m too nervous,” I say honestly.
“Nervous? Why?”
“I want this to be successful,” I say. “I want the other girls to like my pieces, and I want to sell well for the fundraiser.”
“Hey,” Landon says firmly, “you are going to be fantastic tonight. No doubts.”
“Landy!” I hear Beckett call in the background. “We’re starving!”
I smile. “Okay. No doubts.”
“That’s my girl,” Landon says. “I’ve gotta go, Sweetheart. I miss you.”
I love you, I think. But I keep that tucked into my heart.
“I miss you, too,” I say truthfully.
We say goodbye and hang up.
“Oh so cute,” a familiar voice from behind me says. “But still not at the ‘I love you’ stage?”
And I don’t even need to turn around to know Kayla is standing right behind me.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing,” Kayla says sweetly.
I hold my gaze steady on her. Yeah, right.
I ignore her question. “Hello, Kayla,” I say pleasantly.
“So I see you’re setting up,” she says, glancing at my table across from the designer purse display.
“Yes, I’m almost ready,” I say.
Kayla shifts her eyes back to me. “Your pieces are so sweet,” she says. “But that’s probably why I—unfortunately—can’t wear them. Sweetness wears old after time, do you know what I mean, Livy? You can only take so much sweetness before it’s . . . boring.”
Anger surges through me. She’s not talking about jewelry. Kayla is talking about me and what she thinks will happen with Landon.
“Hmmm,” I say, treading carefully with her, “that’s true, I suppose. But sometimes you get something sweet and that’s all you crave. Do you know what I mean, Kayla?”
Kayla’s brows instantly knit together in annoyance. She’s about to say something when Simona Zaugg comes up to us, a warm smile lighting up her delicate face.
“Hello, girls,” Simona says brightly. “How’s it going?”
“Perfect,” Kayla says, flashing Simona a dazzling smile. “The event is going to be great tonight.”
Simona casts her eyes around the room, from the designer purse display to the catwalk set up in the middle, where some of the wives and girlfriends are going to model outfits and purses, to the elaborate stations set up with appetizers.
“I agree.” Simona turns back to me. “I absolutely love your jewelry, Livy. So beautifully crafted.”
“Oh, thank you so much,” I say, delighted that Simona likes it.
“I bet you’re excited to have the girls wear them on the catwalk tonight,” she says.
“What?” I ask, confused. “What do you mean?”
Simona immediately turns to Kayla. “Weren’t you going to ask Livy if we could model some of her pieces when you discussed the show?”
Kayla gasps and puts her hand to her mouth.
“Oh, Simona, we were so busy talking about other things I completely forgot,” Kayla says, drawing her nude-colored lower lip into a pout.
Forgot, my ass, I think, seething. Kayla deliberately sabotaged a chance for me to have my pieces modeled.
“I’m sorry, Livy. Please forgive me,” Kayla says.
I swear her eyes are sparkling in delight.
Screw whiskey shots. I might need one of Nana’s blood pressure pills before I explode.
“No, that didn’t come up,” I say, keeping my voice light.
“What didn’t come up?” Aubrey asks, joining the conversation.
“Kayla forgot to ask me if I wanted my pieces worn by the wives and girlfriends modeling tonight,” I say.
“Really?” Aubrey says, her gaze shifting to Kayla.
Kayla continues her perfect pout. “I know, I feel horrible.”
“Well, we’ll fix it,” Simona says simply.
Kayla’s mask cracks. Her eyes flicker in surprise.
“Fix it?” Kayla blurts out. “But how? The outfits and accessories are already prepared.”
Simona waves her hand dismissively at Kayla. “Kayla, please. This isn’t Mercedes Benz Fashion Week,” she says. “I’ll go with Livy now and select some pieces to show the girls who are modeling. I’m sure they’ll all want to support our newest member of the Buffaloes family. And the one who was finally able to steal Landy’s heart.”
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If I could high-five Simona right now I would.
Kayla’s mouth draws tight. I can tell she’s furious with Simona, but I get the impression that Simona is high in the WAGS hierarchy. Kayla wouldn’t dare cross her.
“Oh, yes, great idea,” Kayla says, putting her fake face back on.
“Simona, thank you so much, I’m thrilled to participate,” I say. Then I turn to Kayla. “See,
Kayla? It’s all going to work out. The way it should.”
I keep my gaze on her for a moment longer, letting Kayla know that comment is about Landon.
“Let’s go pick out some pieces,” Aubrey says. “Kayla, I’m sure you have a million things to do, so we’ll let you get back at it.”
“Yes, yes, I do,” Kayla says, nodding. She goes to leave, but Simona calls after her.
“And Kayla?” Simona says.
Kayla turns and stops. “Yeah?”
“I’ll pick you out something gorgeous of Livy’s to wear,” Simona says, smiling brightly at her.
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Kayla looks like she’s about to vomit at the idea of wearing one of my pieces.
“Uh . . . sure. Excuse me,” Kayla says, quickly walking to the other side of the ballroom.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, Simona turns to me. “I don’t gossip about other players’ wives and girlfriends,” Simona says softly. “But I want you to know I like you because you make Landy happy. Matthias has played with Landy since he was brought up, and he’s never seen him want to be serious about any woman. Until you came along. I see it, too. And I think you can figure out the rest from that hint.”
I smile. Simona is on to Kayla.
And she’s on Team Livy.
“I understand, and I thank you,” I say gratefully.
“Come on, let’s pick out some jewelry.”
And as we move back to my table, I can’t help but think tonight is going to be a success. I’m showing my pieces in a fashion show, one attended by some major players on the Chicago social scene. I have the support of Simona, a very influential WAG. And Kayla was put in her place. She’ll still be a pain in my ass, but she can’t cause any problems between me and Landon.
She’s irrelevant, I think as I begin culling my necklaces and rings for the runway show. And she always will be.
