Her eyes narrow in on me for a few seconds, as if she is pinning me to a bulletin board, right before she slides her gaze back to her father. “I really just wanted to stop by. The cons of being an adult is I don’t live under your roof and get to see you every day. Also…” She winces. “Mom kind of sent me here to remind you that she’s contemplating inviting the rabbi over for Hanukkah this year, and even though it’s only October, he’s in popular demand, so we need to get ahead of the line.”
Hudson’s face completely falls in a humorous way. “I thought we were going all-in on Christmas this year?”
She shrugs. “Take it up with the missus. I’m just the cute messenger.” Her voice is floaty.
Grace and her dad begin to chat about something while Declan grabs my attention when he leans into my space. “How is it with your cousin on the team?”
“He’s my second cousin, and it makes no difference,” I clarify. Tyler Ives is only somewhat related to me. His mother’s brother is married to my aunt. Tyler is younger than me by a few years, so we never grew up close. He’s at least a solid player, and as such, I’ll treat him like one. Same with my little brother Shaw who also plays hockey. He’s on a team out in California, and when we play against them, then he is my opponent, not a relative.
My eyes drift back to Grace, and maybe and that’s the reason Declan leans in a little closer to me. “We keep our sponsors happy. We don’t go near certain things that might not make sponsors happy. Got it?” he warns me with a low voice and a tight smile on his face.
Translation:Stop eye-fucking the woman at the table who is feisty and gives me the feeling that she would probably be in agreement with every scenario in my head that involves no clothes.
I throw him an agreeing smile. “Of course. The focus is the team, and we will bring home a cup this season.”
He pats my shoulder. “That’s what I love to hear.”
We both return our attention to Hudson and Grace who are ending their conversation. She gives us a goodbye too before dashing off. A little disappointment pings inside me because I think I wanted to experience more of herbanter or simply admire the gleam in her eyes that would for a brief few seconds get caught in my gaze.
I’m quick to bury the last few minutes away in my head and return my focus on my steak and the conversation about the league’s latest gossip and an explanation about the local holiday traditions. The holiday market a few towns over in Everhope is apparently worth a visit if I actually ever decide to be social on my seldom days off. I’m a people person, I have to be with what I do. It’s just there are very few days off during the season, and I need to refuel my engine.
As we wait for a round of scotch, I excuse myself and go to the men’s room, but when I turn the corner in the hall, I nearly run into someone.
“Sorry.” I’m quick to steady the arm of the woman in an oversized sweater and yoga pants, only to realize when my eyes flick up that it isn’t just any woman. It’sher.
Grace straightens her posture, only for a smirk to slowly draw on her lips, glossy with a fresh layer of balm, and I notice because she makes no effort to step back, nor do I. “You again. Mr. Saving the Team.”
“Someone has to do it.” I’m not going to win the fight to control my cocky smirk.
I’m sensing playfulness, it’s a sort of vibe she emits. “You know.” She leans against the wall and crosses her arms. “I have a theory about you.”
“What would that be?”
“You think I’m just a daddy’s girl. First impressions and all.”
She’s not exactly wrong. “How intuitive of you.” I keep my face stoic.
“But it’s quite hypocritical, since you are Asher Tate, the son of Cole and Ruby Tate. You were not exactly struggling on your road to success.”
This woman. Is she part devil?
Instantly, I’m offended, as it’s a sore spot. “Just because my dad is floating in cash from his little investment empire, I assure you that his ability to step on the ice is non-existent, and I had to work just as hard as anyone to land a spot on the college team, then be to be drafted and play pro for a few years. And last year? You know, coaching a team that actually made it to the playoffs? Yeah, that’s all me, princess,” I bite back.
It only causes her to grin. “Touchy.”
I roll my eyes and internally remind myself of Declan’s words, but this woman pulls at me in every miserable yet enticing way, and we’ve only just met. “How is it going with your life? Out from under mommy and daddy’s thumb? Or still playing messenger so you can see your parents every day?”
She doesn’t flinch an inch. “Life is going perfectly, thank you. I will not apologize for my mother owning a beautiful lingerie company or that she has taught me the art of designing and creating dresses. A profession passed down generations. Tradition and all.” Grace seems completely comfortable and confident with her belief. Proven by the fact that she pretends to evaluate her nails.
The confidence is refreshing. She’s on my level, and it’s compelling to see, which is why I ease and tone down my smirk as our eyes lock. “Seems we might have things in common then.”
“Hardly. I have a feeling that I get more excited for the team Halloween party than you.”
“It’s the start of the holiday season, what’s not to love?” I’m sarcastic. Halloween rolls into weeks of crunchy leaves and pumpkin lattes and all the crap that people say they love. Then comes Thanksgiving, and the family doesn’t back off for the next six weeks. There are too many holidays between now and January.
Hey eyes squint, and she seems to be studying me, and I return the look. “Yes?” I wonder.
“Nothing. It’s just… I’m sensing you actually have a soft spot for Christmas.”
