Piper sighed.
“Just in case,” Grant said. “I want to make sure we’re set if they come early. If our truck fails, we take Cade’s.” He turned to Damon. “To answer your question, I finished out the season and left. Done with baseball for good. Now I’m focused on family.”
Damon shook his head. “My dad told me, and he was pissed. He had plans to watch you play next year in Seattle. Now he can’t go talk a lot of trash with his friends up there and brag about a homeboy on the team.”
Cade laughed. “Grant can get him a signed ball or something. Let your dad know, would you? He came over to give a client of mine some quotes on furniture for their study.” A pause. “He’s a little scary.”
“Ha. A little?” Damon drank some more. “Why do you think I invited myself with you? I needed space.”
“More like they needed space from their obnoxious son,” Grant muttered.
“Grant Weston!” Piper stared at him. “Not nice.”
Cade smirked. “Grant’s just annoyed that you’re going to help the opponent during Sunday’s game.”
“Huh?”
“You know. When the Mavs play the Sharks.”
Damon frowned. “What are you talking about?” Then he remembered the details Steve, Marlie’s brother, had given him. He stared at Grant, trying to imagine Mr. Baseball on skates and not seeing it. “You’re playing ice hockey?” A chuckle escaped.
Grant’s expression soured. “I’m not sure why you’re laughing.”
“I’m not.” Damon laughed some more. “Not really.” It took him a moment to collect himself. “Hey, I think it’s great you finally found yourself interested in the best sport of all time. I’m just surprised there’s that much interest in this town. Hope’s Turn is big but not that big.”
“Yeah, well, we get a lot of snow. And we have a lot of interest since some of us decided to play.”
“Some of us?” Piper repeated. She sighed. “Damon, you have to see the guys on Grant’s team. Two ex-football players. And Grant, who’s dreamy.”
That mollified Grant, who nodded. “I really am.”
“Add a few other hunks skating around and trying to hit the puck.”
“While also hitting each other,” Cade added. “I can see the appeal.”
Damon asked his friend, “Are you playing?”
“I wanted to, but we’ve been spending time up at the mountain on weekends teaching Alex to ski.”
“Nice.” Damon hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Hope’s Turn. The close-knit relationships, ties to family and years past. Not that he didn’t also love his teammates, but Portland was a big city. And they spent so much of their season traveling from game to game when not practicing. Everything revolved around hockey.
Maybe tearing his meniscus had done him a favor, getting him to slow down and take a much-needed break.
“Hey, no-neck. You’re not playing, are you?”
Piper tried to hide a smile.
Damon didn’t remember her husband being such a dick, but he had to laugh. “No-neck? Why thank you, Grant. I don’t think you’ve ever said anything so nice to me.”
Cade laughed.
“And no, I’m not playing. I tore my knee two months ago. I’m still recovering and planning to get back to goaltending after Christmas. I can’t damage my progress.” He frowned. “It’s killing me, but I need the break so I don’t mess it up when I get back on the ice.”
Grant studied his leg. “Have you been down with injuries before?”
“No. And I don’t want to go down again. It was a freak thing on the ice. I knew I did something the moment I moved.” He scowled, saw Piper staring at him, and said, “What?”
“You look so mean. And you’re huge. I bet the league is afraid of you.”
