My dad, or Pop Pop as he was known to my kids, had his own storied career in the NHL as a defenseman. It wasn’t nearly as publicized as Tripp’s, but it was noteworthy. He passed away about five years ago, which was a blow to all of us, but especially to my son. My father had him on the ice and in skates before he could walk. He was probably more comfortable on the ice than on solid ground. The man taught my son to love hockey, and I’m forever grateful for his influence. They had such a close bond, and my son was devastated when cancer took his life. Thinking about that time in our lives hurts my heart. I know Dad’s death hit him hard.
My relationship with my father was much more complicated and less benevolent than my son’s. Still, despite our conflicts and his sadly outdated views on women, I appreciated the bond he shared with Sebastian.
We’re quiet for a moment, reflecting on our memories, both good and bad.
“Anyway,” his voice gruff with suppressed emotion, “he reached out to me, Mom. He said he promised Pop Pop to look out for me. So… yeah.”
“Oh, honey,” I reply softly, my voice is laced with sadness. He clears his throat. My son isn’t a fan of emotional displays. It’s a skill he learned from both of his parents, unfortunately. One thing I’m not proud to have passed on to him.
“Anyway, I’m out here ’til the middle of August, and then there’s preseason training, so I’m not sure I can get back to Denver this summer. But, hey, we’re playing you guys in October, so we can get together then. I can try to take an extra day in Denver so we can spend some time together? Or we could do dinner after the game, maybe?”
“I’d like that. I’ll make it happen, honey. You know, I always make time for you and your sister.”
“I know, Mom,” his voice is softly affectionate. I’m so fortunate to have such wonderful kids.
“You better text me some pictures and updates, okay? You know I want to see you in action anytime I can.”
“I will. I promise. Gotta go. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too.” I sigh as I hang up. I always enjoy talking to my son, but it also reminds me that my kids have grown up and moved on. My heart’s a little heavy because I love being a mom, and now the hands-on part of the job is done, and it’s just Abby and me. A part of me is still grieving the loss even now. Having new responsibilities with the team has been a panacea for my empty nest.
What about a relationship? You could have that, too.
Why am I thinking about ice-blue eyes and dark hair? I don’t need a relationship. That part of my life is behind me now. I’m too old for romance and dating, and it’s not something I’m interested in anyway. My dog and my team are all I need. Who has time for relationships? My excuses sound weak, even to me.
Liar. At least be honest with yourself.
I tell my brain to be quiet as I pack up my briefcase to leave for the evening.
It’s after ten when I finish up with the work I brought home. I know I should go up to bed, but I’m oddly wired and edgy. I putter around the kitchen, tossing the take-out containers from dinner in the trash and washing out Abby’s dinner bowl. Moving into the living room, I look to see what I can straighten up there. Not a thing out of place. I’m trying to remember the last time I was even in this room. I’m rarely home anymore except to sleep, and when I am home, I’m only using three rooms: the kitchen, my office, and my bedroom. God, that’s discouraging. Maybe I should think about downsizing.
A nice, long soak is what I need in my life right now. I head up to my bathroom, one of my favorite rooms in the house. After the kids left for college, I had it completely redone. I added an enormous garden tub with jets and a sauna next to the shower stall. I chose a light olive green with warm golden brown accents for my color palette. There’s a lovely mural of a grove of aspen trees right above the tub. I commissioned a local artist to paint it. I’ve always loved her work, and she did a fabulous job. It ties the whole room together nicely.
There’s peaceful serenity to it now, like an oasis in the desert. I remind myself that self-care is essential and that I need to make more time for myself. It’s been a while. Before I start the water for my bath, I make a note in my phone to schedule a massage next week. I toss in a lavender bath bomb and some Epsom salts because, at my age, I’m always sore from a workout. Epsom salts are my friend.
I head to my closet to undress, and after tossing my clothes into the hamper, my eye catches on the box with the vibrator my daughter gave me for Christmas. Hmm. Oh my, it’s waterproof, too. How convenient. On impulse, I take it back to the tub with me. I’m just checking it out. I’m not going to use it. Right?
Lowering myself into the hot, foamy water feels like heaven. I lie back, letting my mind wander, and because I seem to have a one-track mind these days, it’s fixated on Damon. Our dinner last night was a lot of fun. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been able to talk to a guy that easily. We discussed everything, including our kids, but especially hockey.
I’ve had very few hockey conversations with men that don’t involve some kind of mansplaining or condescension. That was, hands down, the best hockey discussion I’ve ever had with anyone. It was a conversation between two knowledgeable peers who respect each other’s opinions, and it was fantastic. Even when we disagreed, it was still just a discussion. I’m a bit awed by the whole evening.
A happy, warm feeling envelops me when I think about spending more time with Damon. I love his optimism about the team and life in general. He’s always looking for a positive outcome, even when the rest of us are bogged down with negative feelings. He’s a considerate guy, too. He knows everyone’s coffee order and brings breakfast for everyone at least once a week. He’s terrific with Abby. The other day, when I had a late meeting, he took her to the park to play fetch until I was done. Of course,Abby’s adored him from the beginning. Especially after Jacob, the treat violator, let him know how Abby feels about chicken liver treats.
Memories of the last week drift through my brain as I drowse in the warm water. I love how Damon’s ice-blue eyes flash with delight every time I walk into a meeting. The heat of his hand at the small of my back when we walk through a door or get on the elevator. The way his eyes darken when he sees me wearing workout gear. The way his breath caught the other day when we ran into each other in the hallway, literally.
I’ve never done the flirty thing before, and I’m getting far more enjoyment out of it than I would have thought. It’s not just that, though. My body is alive in ways I haven’t felt for years. The way my stomach flutters when I see him, or the electric feeling I get when he touches me. It’s delicious. I’ve gotten to the point where I’m anticipating every graze of his body against mine.
The thought of Damon touching me sends a tingling through my body, and I close my eyes to imagine his strong, capable hands stroking down my back and over my ass. Zing! Okay, that’s something my body clearly wants. I decide maybe we do need to test the new vibrator, so I turn it on as I lower it into the water.
Oh God, that feels amazing! I’m experimenting now, moving it around my clit and into my pussy. My mind goes off on its own, returning to my fantasy of Damon touching me. I’m back to his hands roaming over my body. They pause at my breasts, gently tugging and rolling my nipples. I move one hand up to mirror my fantasy, moaning as the sensitive buds harden. My clit aches with need, and one of his hands moves to relieve it. Fingers whispering over my clit, before he buries them deep inside me. The toy follows the path of his imaginary hands, the vibrations ramping up my desire as it pulses inside me.
Another moan escapes as my breathing escalates until I’m panting. My body surges with waves of desire, each one taking me higher than thelast. I move the vibrator back to my clit, ramping up the intensity, as I imagine his hard, thick cock sliding into me. Ripples of need surge through me as I think of him moving his hips, thrusting into me, unable to hold back his needy groans. Pleasure spikes, and I shout his name as it crests, breaking over me with mind-numbing intensity.
Oh my God! Why have I not done this sooner? Holy Hell, that was amazing. I turn off the toy before languidly lying back against the cool porcelain tub. My body is flush and satisfied, all the stress I’d been feeling floating away. Yeah, I definitely need to rethink my idea of self-care. Maybe my daughter was right about this, at least. I’m going to sleep so well tonight.
Chapter Eleven
Joslyn
