Ada rolled her eyes. “I’m thirteen, Dad. I know the wordfuck!” Then, turning to Gareth, she added, “It’s actually nine twelve.”
Oh, shit. He was on his feet in seconds. He was late for work. The damn meeting about Blake Ford started in fifteen minutes at the arena, and he couldn’t show up in yesterday’s wrinkled suit! Good thing he had a spare in his office. He jerked his phone out of his pocket. Sixteen missed calls, eight from his assistant Freddie and eight from his sister. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why didn’t you wake me, Cian?” he yelled toward the kitchen, where he heard his friend busy with pans.
“You looked so frazzled. I felt sorry for you.”
Great. “Fuck!”
“Uncle Gareth, I don’t mean to offend you,” Ada drawled, “but you really do swear a lot. Shouldn’t lawyers have better vocabulary?”
He snorted, but smiled. “Sorry: shit. I have to go.”
She grinned broadly. “Thanks. And being late for work once is no big deal! Maybe no one will even notice.”
“Oh my God!” Penny cried in shock an hour later as he rushed into the lobby of the ice arena. “I was about to start calling hospitals. What the hell happened? Are you okay?”
She frantically examined him as if expecting a fracture or at least a laceration on his head.
“Everything’s fine. My alarm didn’t go off.”
She opened her mouth in disbelief. “What? Your… What? That’s your excuse? The last time you were late was twenty years ago, Gare. I thought you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere!”
That wasn’t true. It had been twenty-three years ago — and he’d feared he would have to explain his uncharacteristic behavior to Penny in more detail. “I broke up with Lacey,” he mumbled. It seemed to be the best excuse for why he was a bit off today. He took advantage of Penny’s surprised silence to straighten his tie. If his sister noticed that it was askew, she’d still call a doctor.
“Oh, no. Gareth, I’m so sorry.” She looked at him sympathetically and then hugged him. “What happened?”
He snorted, but patted her back. He could use the hug, albeit for entirely different reasons. He’d decided yesterday to surrender to the chaos, just to get some clarity. “You’ve all been telling me for ages that she’s not the right one, and now you’re shocked?”
“You’re incredibly stubborn, Gareth, and you wanted to marry her. A lot would have to happen to dissuade you from your plan.”
She was right. “It just didn’t feel right,” he deflected, letting go of her and hurrying toward the tunnel to the ice rink, from which music and shouting were emanating. This was where the training camp for the rookies, the newcomers to the NHL and the Hawks, was taking place.
“Why, what exactly…”
He was rather certain Penny was still talking, but he didn’t hear her because not only were Coach Gray, General Manager Lyle, and Freddie Cravitz standing at the rink’s boards, butHazel was leaning against the barrier, her hip jutting out, speaking to the coach.
Seeing her felt like someone had jabbed a sparkler into his chest and not gently. More like with the force of a wrecking ball. But the sparks overshadowed the pain.
Cian was right. He wasn’t used to having so many emotions, and he didn’t particularly like it. He also didn’t like the fact that Hazel didn’t look disheveled or even tired. No. She was wearing her usual outfit: a pencil skirt, killer high heels, and today, a light blue blouse. She had bound her long black hair into a braid.
She was…beautiful. As always. For the past few years, he hadn’t allowed himself to think that, but now it seemed far less harmful than what they’d done yesterday.
God, how could it be that nine hours ago, he’d been inside her, aching for more…while now all she gave him was a cursory, slightly too stern smile? It was as if nothing improper had ever happened between them.
“Where the hell have you been, Clark?” Lyle asked, perplexed. “We’ve been placing bets about whether you were under a car or a woman.”
“I was hoping for the car,” Hazel said, smiling.
He narrowed his eyes. Aha. So that was how it was going to be. They would maintain their facade in public. However, Hazel was violating the clause that forbade her from being mean to him in front of Penny. Shit, he was glad he’d insisted on spontaneous penalties, because he was already coming up with a few things…
Gareth raised a cool eyebrow, which didn’t bother Lyle, Hazel, or the coach. Freddie’s head, on the other hand, sank between his shoulders. “I didn’t bet!” he replied hastily. “I think it was my fault. I didn’t update your diary, Mr. Clark, so…”
“Don’t be silly, Freddie. It’s not your fault,” he interrupted. “And it wasn’t a car or a woman. More like a coffee table.”
“What?” Hazel blinked at him, confused. The others didn’t even get a chance to ask. That was lucky, because Gareth wasn’t about to explain.
“What are you doing here, Hazel?” Penny asked, puzzled, stepping out of the tunnel behind him.
Hazel gave Gareth one last curious glance before turning to his sister, “I’m here about Blake.”
