“Nah. Well, Chelsea will.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
“I don’t mean that in a negative way. That’s just her.”
“Okay. I guess I can wear that sundress I bought earlier.”
“That’ll be fine.” Except the idea of her changing into a sundress in the room we’re sharing has every nerve ending in my body on alert. What the hell was I thinking?
Molly turns back to the room. “The room is lovely too.”
This resort is five stars, so yeah, it’s pretty nice. I picked it because it’s close to Dad’s place and to Matthew and Aline’s home where the party is tonight.
The king-size bed takes up a lot of space.
One bed.
What the hell are we going to do about that? There’s a sort of couch—a chaise, I think it’s called—but there’s no way in hell I’ll fit on that. But I’d feel guilty making Molly sleep there.
Again, what the hell was I thinking?
Well, we’ll worry about that later. “I’d like a shower,” I say. “Traveling makes me feel gross.”
“Go right ahead. I’m going to call my parents and let them know I’m okay. And Grace.”
I find my toiletry bag and lock myself in the huge bathroom, all marble and stone tiles. The shower is fantastic. I could stand under there for an hour, but there’s someone else who might want to use it.
My mind drifts to Molly in the shower…
Shit! What am I doing? She’s Chucky’s fiancée. Ex. But no matter. She’s still not someone I can be having wet, soapy fantasies about. Ever. We’re friends.
As I dry off, I realize I should have grabbed a change of clothes. I wrap a towel around my waist so I’m decent and open the door to release a cloud of steam.
“Next,” I announce, stepping into the room.
Molly’s already changed into her dress and is brushing her hair in front of the dresser mirror. Her eyes shift to me and widen, then blink rapidly. “Um…”
Her gaze tracks over my chest, the towel, then back up. I swipe at a water trickling down my shoulder.
“Right,” she says breathlessly.
Damn. I’m having shower fantasies about her, and she’s ogling me. This is a disaster in the making. I’m going to have to be on my best behavior. Not something I’m good at when it comes to women.
But this is Molly.
She looks so pretty in that dress—a flowery print in shades of orange and gold, a fitted top with tiny straps and a ruffled skirt.
She picks up the pink makeup bag she purchased earlier and disappears into the bathroom.
I dress at rapid speed in case she emerges from the bathroom, but she’s in there for a while. I unpack a few things into the drawers Molly has left empty for me. She’s filled a few with lacy lingerie I’m tempted to snoop through. I was a gentleman and left her alone in the lingerie department at Target, but now I’m curious what she bought.
Jesus! Here I go again, thinking about Molly’s underwear.
I rub my face and check out the mini bar. I better not drink anything though; we had a few on the plane, and I’m driving the rental car we picked up at LAX.
Finally, she reappears, her hair in messy waves that look casually stylish, and makeup on her eyes again. And lips. They shine with a soft peachy gloss.
“I’m ready.”
“You look…great.” I attempt a casual compliment. She smells good too, like pink grapefruit.
“Thanks. You too.” She smiles at my khaki pants and navy shirt I left loose, sleeves rolled up.
“Okay. Let’s roll.”
She picks up her purse and a sweater. “Let’s make like a rock.”
I frown, holding the key to the car. “What?”
“Let’s make like a rock and roll.”
I drop my head forward in amusement. “Right, right. Sorry.”
She smacks my shoulder. “Keep up, Wynn.”
I grin, a sense of fun fizzing in my chest. I’m not even dreading seeing the family, which I should be. It’s been a year, other than a few quick meetups when playing against the Golden Eagles when I can see my dad and play against my cousin JP, or when we play the Condors and I see my my other cousin Théo, who’s the manager of the Condors.
One thing I didn’t tell Molly about was the tense relationship I have with my dad.
My parents divorced when I was fifteen. It was a brutal time. I blamed my dad for it. It had to be so hard for Mom. I know the fact that I hated Dad really bothered her, but she never once criticized him. To my face, anyway. She was a single mom, and a hockey mom for both Riley and me, which is extra hard. As a teenager, I didn’t appreciate how difficult it had to be for her, and I probably still don’t because I’ve never been through that. And I never will.
So on top of seeing Grandpa, seeing Dad tonight isn’t something I’m all that stoked about either.
But Molly’s happy anticipation of this party where she knows no one is infectious.
Not sure how I’ll explain who she is and why she’s with me. Could be awkward, but we’ll figure it out.
The twenty-minute drive to Uncle Matt’s place in Rolling Hills is scenic, almost rural, winding through palm trees and scrubby hills with the odd mansion tucked into them, then through a more residential neighborhood. I pull up in the big stone driveway of the house, a low ranch-style, which is full of cars, but I slip the rental car in behind a Beemer and turn off the engine. “We’re here.”
Molly slides out before I can open her door, but I close it for her, lock the doors with the fob, and lead the way through the white picket fence and up the paved sidewalk to the front door.
I take a breath. “Okay, if this gets too much for you, just let me know.”
Molly regards me skeptically. “You mean if it gets too much for you.”
“Ha. Maybe.”
Unexpectedly, she reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “It’ll be fine.”
“Famous last words.” I ring the doorbell.
A moment later, it opens. Aunt Aline peers out, her expression first blank, then her mouth opens into an O and she stares. “Oh mon dieu! Jackson!” She opens her arms for a hug.
“What?” I hear my sister’s voice from inside. “Jackson?”
“Come in,” Aline says, stepping aside. “What a surprise!”
I motion Molly inside first, catching Aline’s curious look at her, then lead the way to the entrance to the big living room.
Riley rushes across the room toward me. I grin and hold my arms wide. “Surprise!”
Riley throws herself at me, and I wrap her up in a big hug. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here!”
I squeeze her, affection swelling in my chest. “Hey, little sis.”
I lift my head. Jesus, the room is full. The family seems to have grown.
Dad makes his way across the room toward me, smiling. “Holy shit! What are you doing here, son?”
My gut clenches, but I shrug casually as I release Riley. “Thought I’d surprise you all by showing up a little sooner than I planned. Uh…” I glance over my shoulder, turn and gently draw Molly forward. “Hey everyone, this is Molly.”
The room goes silent, staring at her. Of course they think we’re “together.”
Molly lifts a hand, beaming. “Hi, Wynn family. Nice to meet you all.”
6
Molly
Well, I got what I wanted. Here I am, surrounded by the legendary Wynn family. Yikes. What was I thinking?
Everyone’s staring at me, and I am acutely aware that they may know who I am and that I just jilted my fiancé. And now I’m here with Jax.
Maybe I should make a run for it.
Nope, nope, can’t do that. Nothing for it but to make the best of this situation I got myself—and Jax, for that matter—into. So I smile and wave and don’t bother waiting for introductions.
“Hi, you must be Riley,” I say to the woman Jax just hugged. “Nice to meet you.”
She shakes my hand, bemuse
d. “Um, yeah, hi Molly.”
“My dad,” Jax says. “Mark Wynn.”
“Mr. Wynn.” I shake his hand too. He smiles, and I see the interest in his eyes. He glances back at Jax.
“Call me Mark,” he says. “Pleased to meet you, Molly.”
Jax continues the introductions, and I start to lose track of who everyone is. Jax greets Taylor, whom the party is honoring, with a friendly hug and says, “Last time I saw you, two guys were fighting over you.” He slides a sly glance at JP, her fiancé.
What? I’m so curious I could burst!
Taylor laughs. “Oh yeah.”
“Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.”
But there are more. I keep smiling and shaking hands. Finally he introduces me to his grandfather, Bob Wynn, and his wife Chelsea.
Jax was right. Chelsea’s stunning, her blonde hair in a wavy bob, her makeup impeccable, and her slim black pants, silky tank top and heels are all killer.
“It’s Jackson,” Chelsea says to Mr. Wynn in a low voice.
Oh God. What if he doesn’t even remember Jax? I cast a quick look at Jax and bite my lip.
Bob Wynn eyes Jax. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Jackson.”
“No, sir.” Jax clears his throat.
Okay, at least he recognizes him.
“Surprised you’ve lowered yourself to join us.”
“Ouch,” Jax mutters.
“Or maybe it’s just me you haven’t wanted to associate with.”
My insides tighten as I watch the exchange.
“Pretty much,” Jax agrees.
Mr. Wynn barks out a laugh. “At least you’re honest.”
“I am honest.” Jax tips his head to one side. I can see he doesn’t know what to say. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Grandpa.”
Bob Wynn nods.
Jax looks at Chelsea. “We need to talk.”
She tilts her head, clearly surprised. “Of course,” she murmurs.
“We’ll talk more while I’m here,” Jax adds to Mr. Wynn.
“Huh. You assume I want to talk to you after all these years,” Mr. Wynn says gruffly.
Eep. Mr. Wynn’s a little salty.
Mr. Wynn turns his attention to me. “New girlfriend,” he says. “Or are you two gonna surprise us and tell us you’re married, like Théo did last year?”
I shoot Jax an alarmed glance.
“She’s not my girlfriend, Grandpa. Just a friend.”
I hear someone behind me choke. Great. They know.
“Uh huh.” Grandpa frowns. “Sure.”
“She’s not his girlfriend, Dad,” someone speaks up.
I turn to see one of the guys…Jax’s uncle Asher, I think?
“She’s engaged to Steve Shevchuk,” Asher says, giving me a narrow-eyed look. “He plays for the Aces.”
“Jesus Christ!”
I jump at Bob Wynn’s shout and whirl around, wide-eyed. Nervously I edge closer to Jax as Mr. Wynn glares at him. “You kids! You can’t keep stealing other men’s women!”
My thoughts freeze with confusion and I blink rapidly.
Everyone starts murmuring. Asher’s comment has clued everyone in that I’m the runaway bride they heard about.
Jax speaks up. “No, Grandpa, that’s not it.”
“I’m not engaged to Steve,” I say firmly, loudly. Then I add glumly, “Not anymore.”
“You were?” Bob Wynn snaps.
“Er, yes.” My gaze darts around the room, and heat washes up my throat and into my face.
Bob slaps a hand down on the arm rest of the chair where he sits. “Dammit! Jackson, you should be ashamed.”
I suck in a breath and turn to Jax. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Grandpa, we’re not together. She wanted to get out of Chicago, so she came with me. That’s all.”
Bob Wynn frowns. “Well, that’s as stupid as a screen door on a submarine.”
“It was my idea,” I speak up. “I begged him to let me come. He didn’t want to do it.”
Jax rolls his eyes and sighs. What’s with that? I’m trying to help him out.
“Interesting,” Asher comments.
I resist the urge to scowl at him.
Crap. Jax was right. His family is nuttier than squirrel shit.
I turn back to Bob Wynn and smile. “Mr. Wynn, your grandson is a knight in shining armor. He saved me when I needed help. I’m very grateful to him, and I apologize for showing up uninvited at your family party. I’m a little intimidated by all the hockey talent here.”
His frown eases and he slowly smiles. “Well, aren’t you a sweetheart. Jax, get this girl a drink.”
I catch Chelsea Wynn’s eye. She grins and gives me an approving nod. I smile weakly.
Jax and I make our way to a bar set up on the sideboard in the dining room. He pours us each a glass of red wine and we rejoin the party.
“So when is the wedding?” I ask JP and Taylor.
“Not until next summer,” Taylor replies. She makes a face. “We have to work around the hockey season.”
“Of course.” I smile. “I get it. We…had to do that too…” My voice trails off.
Her expression shifts to concern. “So what happened?”
I heave a small sigh. “I discovered he was cheating on me the night before the wedding.”
“Oh my God! That’s awful.”
Somehow the group around us has altered to include Lacey and Everly, separating Jax and JP.
“That must have been hard,” Everly, Jax’s aunt, says. Her expression is neutral, her voice impersonal. She’s very cool and composed.
“I probably shouldn’t be sharing all my personal woes with strangers,” I say apologetically. “Let’s just say it was a disaster and move on.”
They all exchange glances. “Sure,” Taylor says. “Any wedding-planning tips?”
“Hire a wedding planner.” I laugh. “Seriously. We hired Katelyn Bennet. She’s married to Tanner Bennet, who plays for the Aces?”
They all nod.
“She’s amazing. It was so good to have someone who knows the best places and people to hire, and makes things run smoothly.”
“That’s a good idea,” Everly says.
“I don’t know,” Taylor says. “I’d kind of like to plan things myself.”
“Oh, you totally can!” I nod enthusiastically. “You can be as involved and hands-on as you want, if you have a good planner.”
“We should check out some names,” Everly says.
“Or you could plan my wedding.” Taylor bumps Everly’s shoulder with a smile. “You love planning.”
“I do.” Everly grins and her face warms and softens as she smiles at her friend and future…in-law. I can’t quite remember how she’ll be related to Taylor. This family is complicated.
I spot appetizers on the low cocktail table and excuse myself to step over and get food. I’m starving. That meal on the plane was a long time ago. I load up a small plate with skewers of tortellini, salami, cheese and olives, some nuts, and crackers. I rejoin the women. “I’m so hungry,” I say, then pop an almond in my mouth.
“We’re having dinner shortly,” Everly says.
“Aline’s an amazing cook,” Lacey adds.
“Er, what was Mr. Wynn talking about when he said ‘you can’t keep stealing other men’s women?’ ”
Taylor grimaces. “He was talking about JP. He, er, dated a woman who was his brother’s girlfriend.”
“Remember that night they were all here?” Everly says to the others. “It was only a little awkward.” She rolls her eyes.
Lacey laughs. “Oh my God, it was terrible! You were all picking on JP.”
“He deserved it,” Everly says. “And yes, I did tell him that to his face.”
I watch this with fascination. “Jax didn’t mention that when he told me about the family drama. Wow.”
We’re joined by Jax’s sister at that moment. Riley seems hesitant
, which is how I should be feeling, not her, so I give her a warm smile and shift to make room for her. “Hi.”
“Hi. Aline said to let everyone know we’ll eat in about fifteen minutes.”
“By then, I’ll have cleaned every plate on that table.” I nod to the appetizers. “I need to try those little bruschetta things.” I fill my plate again.
“Those are balsamic blueberry and goat cheese,” Lacey tells me. “So good.”
“Yum.” I hope I’m not making a pig of myself, but damn, I like food and I’m hungry. I try one. “Delicious.”
Jax detaches himself from the family he’s been talking to and slides over next to me. “Okay?” he murmurs in my ear.
I nod, smiling. “Yeah. Getting to know these amazing women.”
“Need more wine?” He gestures at my glass, which is nearly empty.
“Yes, please.”
He takes my glass and crosses to the dining room.
Four other pairs of female eyes follow his movements, then turn on me. I blink back at them. “What?”
They all smile.
“So,” Riley says. “How did you happen to end up here with Jax?”
I roll my eyes. “Well. Let me see if I can make a long story short. I jilted my ex at the altar. I needed to get the hell out of there, so I asked Jax to drive me. We went to his place.” I hold up a hand. “Jax and I are friends. We’re a team at trivia nights at some local bars.”
They all nod slowly.
“I didn’t want to face anyone, so I stayed there. He was leaving today, and I begged him to let me tag along so I could get out of town.” I shrug. “That’s it.”
“You left your fiancé at the altar?” Riley asks, wide-eyed.
“You didn’t hear about it?”
“No!”
I suck my bottom lip briefly. I could say more, but I don’t. “Well, it’s probably on YouTube.”
They all burst out laughing.
“You’re probably right,” Everly says, amusement glinting in her eyes. I like that much better than the detached looks she gave me earlier.
Jax returns with my wine. “So, what are you up to for the summer, Rye?” he asks his sister.
They chat, eventually getting to the things they want to do while Jax is here, and Riley, the sweetie, tries to include me.
Game Changer Page 5