by G. K. Brady
Guilt shivered up her spine right before the unhappy remembrance of everything she’d had and lost with Jack suddenly swelled, wrenching her gut. A cleansing breath pushed the tears away. Her eyes continued sweeping the room, and the romantic inside her feasted on the warmth surrounding her. The ever-present practical side of her, however, wilted—her shot at love had come and gone.
“So,” Natalie interrupted Lily’s ping-ponging emotions, “have you been keeping busy with the band?”
Lily took in the sight of T.J. cuddling his wife from behind, his expectant eyebrows raised, matching his wife’s expression. Two people in sync, behaving like one unit.
She coughed, giving herself a moment to recover. “No, your wedding was the first time I’d appeared in ages, and I haven’t been onstage since then. That was my life full-time long ago, but things change.” So long ago. “Now I freelance as a social media consultant.”
Their befuddled faces spurred her to continue. “Oh, you’re probably wondering about … Gage and I ran into each other about a week ago and spent time talking. He decided to up his social media game and hired me to help him out.”
As a matter of fact, they’d ironed out the details during the first ten minutes of the car ride over. He’d been very agreeable to her terms. It occurred to Lily the man was just downright agreeable. So much so, she’d overlooked the fact the Millers did not live in a gated community and Gage hadn’t needed to pick her up. Yeah, she was content to let that one slide.
Lily rushed on. “That’s the reason he brought me today. To give me a peek at his world and to meet his hockey family, so to speak.”
Natalie nodded. “I assume you’ll attend a few games too?”
Before she could answer that they hadn’t discussed it, Gage stepped beside her, handing her the wineglass. “Yeah, she’s definitely coming to some games.” He glanced down at her, his expression devoid of any guile. “How about Tuesday night? I can get you a seat. More, if you want to bring your sister and her husband.”
“And they can sit with us in the family section,” Natalie added with glee.
By now, the man in the wheelchair had rolled over, the pretty blond riding in his lap. They both beamed at Lily. The woman extended her hand. “So you’re Lily? Gage was just filling us in. I’m Carla, and this is my husband, Mark.”
Mark’s hand shot out. “Nice to meet you, Lily.” He jerked his chin at Gage. “Dude, I’m not gonna lie. I was beginning to worry about you. I mean, being the best fucking center on the planet isn’t all there is to life. Glad to see you’re turning to the dark side and shedding your Shaolin monk lifestyle. Plus, she’s really hot and makes a nice addition to our club. Good job, bro. You can stay.” Looking directly at Lily, he gave Gage a few pats on the stomach that had Gage flinching. “Love this guy,” Mark added.
The women seemed to stifle snorts. Gage scrubbed a hand down his face, his chiseled cheekbones burning red. “Filter, jackass?” he croaked.
T.J. burst out with a laugh. “He has no filters, Nelsy. Mark, you’ve been watching waaaay too much Deadpool. You are not Wade Wilson.”
“True,” Mark agreed. “I’m much better looking than Wade or Ryan Reynolds.” He turned to his wife and puckered. “Right, babe?”
Carla offered Lily an apologetic smile. “Mark’s an acquired taste.”
“And I taste really fucking good! Just like—”
Carla covered his mouth. “I never know what’s going to come out of this thing. Sometimes I swear it has a life of its own.” She moved her hand away. “Are you going to behave?”
“Not a chance! But that’s why you love me.” He tilted his head and puckered again. “C’mon, gorgeous. Give us a kiss, or you’ll hurt my feeling.”
“Your one feeling,” Gage chuffed.
Carla pecked her husband’s lips and turned to Gage. “Will I see you in class tomorrow? Maybe you could bring Lily?” Her gaze slid to Lily.
“Carla teaches yoga,” Gage explained.
“You do yoga?” Lily blurted.
“I have lots of athletes in my classes,” Carla answered for him. “Ever tried yoga?”
Lily took an extra-large sip of her wine. “Um, yes. Love it, when I have the time.”
“Lily’s a social media consultant,” Natalie interjected. “She’s working for Gage.”
A woman with dark hair and red-rimmed glasses approached the group, her big brown eyes focused on Lily. “Did I hear something about social media? Are you looking for new clients?” She offered Lily her hand. “I’m Katie, by the way. I work for Anderson Homes—which is really Paige—and so does Natalie.”
“And social media is a job neither of us handles. Not well anyway,” Natalie added with an apologetic shrug.
“No, we all suck at it, but Paige keeps saying we need to get it going. Maybe you and she should talk?” Before Lily could open her mouth, Katie called out, “Paige? I think we found your girl. Lily’s a social media expert.”
An unmistakable “Oooooh” drifted from the kitchen. “Be right there.”
In the car hours later, Gage side-eyed her and seemed to wince. “I hope you had a good time. Some of those folks can be overly—”
Lily let out a laugh. “I enjoyed meeting them all. Even Mark.”
“Really?” No mistaking the disbelief—or relief—in his voice.
“Really. They all seem nice, down-to-earth.” And she meant it.
Lily gazed out the window, replaying the day. She’d gone to the party to gain insight into the intriguing mystery that was Gage Nelson. Along the way, she’d picked up a new social media client, a yoga class, and seats to a hockey game. Gage had opened up his world to her, and his “inner sanctum” had wholly embraced her.
She’d also come away with a new PR angle to play up: the sled hockey team Mark belonged to and that Gage, T.J., and Beckett coached in their spare time. It turned out R-rated comments weren’t the only bits of his conversation Mark didn’t rein in. He also didn’t hold back when it came to singing the praises of the three guys who made the sled team a thriving endeavor.
Everything about Gage seemed straightforward, out in the open. No romantic entanglements or baby mamas lurking in the recesses of his celebrity, waiting to strike at the most inopportune times. What you see is what you get.
Except he had slept with her right after meeting her. He might not have secrets, but he couldn’t be the dateless wonder his friends painted. After all, he’d known just what to do to open floodgates she hadn’t been expecting to have opened that night. The man was obviously not celibate. But did that automatically make him a player? Not that it was any of her business if he slept around. He was entitled. Still, he didn’t come across as that guy.
They came to a stop at a red light. She felt his eyes on her, and she glanced over. He gave her a hesitant smile, and, as natural as you please, raised his hand and threaded his fingers through her hair before tucking it behind her ear. His fingertips ghosted over her jawline.
The intimate move shocked her. It was both unexpected and exciting. She found herself yearning for more, but a lash of guilt laid her open. He must have seen something on her face because his smile slid away. “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that, Goldilocks.”
Goldilocks? She kind of liked it, especially in his deep baritone, yet it too was uncomfortably familiar. A shimmy squirmed up her spine.
The light turned green, and he turned his eyes to the road, his hands firmly on the wheel. While her heart thudded in her ears and her mind frantically searched for the right words, she stole a few glimpses at his strong profile.
If she was going to be spending time with this man and his friends, she needed to get everything out in the open, set expectations before … before what? Before he fell for her? Pretty impressed with yourself, her inner self scoffed.
No, he wasn’t going to fall for her. Besides, it would never work out.
It’s strictly business.
Gage turned into her neighborho
od, and she jolted. The moment of truth was on her; so was dread. She screwed up her courage.
“Professor, there are some things about me I need to tell you.”
Chapter 9
Tell Me Sweet Little Lies … Please
No sooner had Lily begun her confession when her eyes caught on the Ford F-150 in her driveway. Too late. Her breath snagged. She slid her eyes toward Gage, who seemed blissfully unaware of the ball bearings careening around in her gut—the ones she could practically hear clinking as they rolled blindly into each other.
He glided his Porsche to a stop along her front curb and peered over her head at her lit-up house.
“Someone here? I don’t recall seeing a truck in your driveway when we left.”
She drew in a long, bracing breath. Why was what she had to tell him sucking the air from her lungs?
“Actually,” she began in a raspy voice that she paused to clear, “someone is here. That’s part of what you need to know. Do you remember me telling you at IHOP that my life is complicated?”
He switched off the ignition and swiveled his head toward her. “Yes, I remember.”
“Well, one of the things that makes it complicated is in my house at this moment.”
Though she couldn’t make out their color in the dim interior of his car, she could see the shimmer in his eyes as they lasered in on her. He watched her expectantly, still as marble. She wasn’t even sure he was breathing.
On second thought, it wasn’t what she was about to tell him but his reaction making her as skittish as a mouse in a roomful of ravenous cats. Why? “So I have—”
His gaze bounced above her head just as she heard her front door slam. With a muttered curse, she turned toward the source of the noise. That source was stomping down her walkway toward them.
“What the—?” Gage uttered just as Derek reached her window.
She cracked the door open, and Derek peered in. Though his scowl was firmly fixed on Gage—who seemed to be returning the glare—Derek directed his question to her. “Everything all right here, Lily?”
Of course it is! Do I look like it’s not? Suppressing an exasperated eye-roll, she said, “Derek, this is Gage Nelson. Gage, this is Derek Everett. You might remember him as the guitarist from our band? Derek, would you please give me a minute? I’ll be right in.”
He hesitated before bobbing his head, and she softly latched the car door and watched his retreating back. Heart slamming against her ribcage, she pulled in another breath—which was quite the feat, considering all the air had been vacuumed from inside the car. She faced Gage.
If she thought his look was intense before, this one could have burned a hole through her. “That could have gone better,” she ventured.
“He has the same last name as you.”
“Good observation. And this is why you’re the Professor.” Her joke fell flat, judging by Gage’s unwavering stare. Twiddling her fingers in her lap, she met his eyes squarely. “Derek is my brother-in-law.”
Gage’s eyebrows knotted together. “Why is he here? And more importantly, what makes him your brother-in-law?”
Once Gage knew her whole story, she might never see him again. And while she wanted the work, something deep down dreaded losing their tentative friendship. This revelation surprised her even as she fought to keep her heart from wobbling and crashing off its axis.
“He’s here,” she replied steadily, “because he’s watching my five-year-old daughter, Daisy.”
Gage’s head jerked as though he’d been punched in the face, though he didn’t break his gaze.
Another lungful of courage—Why didn’t I drink more wine?—and she rushed on. “I was married to Derek’s brother, Jack, who’s Daisy’s father. Derek’s here because he also has a daughter—her name is Violet—who’s two years older than Daisy. Derek and Vi’s mother aren’t together, and he and I take turns watching the girls to help each other out. He had Daisy at his place today to play with her cousin, and he offered to watch her while I … while I went to the party with you because I told him it was business.”
Oh my God. I sound like such a slut.
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and waited.
Gage stared out the windshield. Ten long beats passed before he nodded. “Where’s Jack?”
Stinging tears swarmed the backs of her eyes, blurring her vision. Damn it! “Well, um, Jack is … He died four years ago.” She made an angry swipe at her cheek. “It’ll be five years this July.”
Gage snapped his head back to her, his mouth swinging open. “That’s why you volunteer as a grief counselor.”
Her answer came in a feeble nod.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
Another brush at her cheek, with the heel of her hand this time. “Yeah, me too.” She could practically hear her heart ripping in two. Again.
He bounced his thumb on the steering wheel for what seemed forever. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course,” she sniffed.
“Is every female in your family named after a plant?”
She burst out with a laugh despite her tears. “What?”
“Lily, Ivy, Daisy, Violet. What’s your mom’s name?” One side of his mouth curled up, and his eyes held hers with kindness, understanding. Not the pity or disdain she’d expected. She found herself swamped with gratitude, warm and soothing, as though she’d immersed her body in a bubbling hot spring.
Half laughing, half crying, she said, “Her name’s Rose.”
He broke into a full grin. “Of course it is.”
They sat quietly. He seemed to be giving her time to pull herself together.
“I’d better get inside before Derek comes back out,” she finally said.
“I have another question.”
“I probably have another answer.” She smiled weakly, thinking she knew what the question was. Guilt, or obligation, prodded her to rush ahead. “Daisy was spending a week with my folks last summer when I met you at the wedding.” She didn’t want Gage thinking she was an irresponsible mom, sticking her daughter with some random sitter just so she could get herself good and fucked. Well, while she hadn’t set out to do it, she had gotten herself good and fucked, but she hadn’t foisted Daisy off just so she could.
“That wasn’t the question.” His voice was so low she barely heard him.
“Oh?”
He shocked the hell out of her—again—when he said, “Would it be all right if I met Daisy?”
Her jaw dropped, and a few pounds of worry weight came off. Was he for real?
“Not tonight,” he quickly added, studying her expression. “But I would like to meet her. After all, you’re working for me, and I make it a point to get to know my employees’ families.”
She wasn’t sure what surprised her more: that he wanted to meet Daisy, or that he had other people working for him. “You … you have other employees?”
“No, but I figure now’s as good a time as any to put policies into place.” He gave her a goofy grin that had her shoulders shedding even more weight.
What if she’d been wrong about Gage Nelson? What if he was an average, all-around nice guy? God, she wanted to throw her arms around his strong neck and hug him tight. Before she could let impulse take her, the curtain in her front window opened.
He lifted his chin toward it. “I think your brother-in-law’s sending signals that he wants you inside and me gone.”
She gathered up her purse. “Yeah, I should go. Daisy—”
“Will be anxious to see her mom.” With that, he climbed out of the driver’s seat and strode to the passenger door, opening it for her.
“I can see myself to the door.”
One eyebrow arched. “I’m sure you can, but I’d feel better walking you there.”
Suddenly shy, she squeaked out an “okay” and let him escort her up the walkway.
Her hand hovering on the doorknob, she looked up at him. “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed mys
elf. It’s been a long time.”
He bowed his head. “My pleasure, Lily Everett. Sweet dreams.” He pivoted and headed back to his car.
All of her wanted to run after him, to throw her arms around him and feel his solid warmth. But all of her opened the door and stepped inside instead. It was what good mothers did.
Gage pulled away from the curb. When he rounded the corner, he shot the car forward, his mind going at dragster speed but in a fractured line.
Slowing once more, he tugged his hand over his beard and puffed out a huge exhale. “Shit,” he muttered.
Grandma must have hit him upside the head again because he immediately challenged himself. “So she’s got a kid. So what? You’re not even together.”
“I don’t know anything about kids anyway, Grandma,” he said aloud, checking his rearview mirror, half expecting to see Grandma sitting in his backseat. Yeah, he was losing it.
“Back all the way up, doofus,” he told himself, “this is a business arrangement. Which is a good thing because you don’t have time to chase anything besides the Stanley Cup. No girlfriend, with or without kids. No touching, no … Just no. You don’t wanna go there. Not that she’d let you anyway,” he huffed. Still, he’d felt that familiar electrical charge around her the entire day, and it had done funny things to him below the belt. Things he’d have to deal with on his own later.
He rolled to a stop at a traffic signal and darted his eyes to the rearview again. He threw out a “Fuck!” for good measure, then muttered, “You shouldn’t have touched her hair, stupid.” Yeah. Like not doing that could erase the kid and the dead husband. Or make her want him.
A horn sounded beside him. When he glanced over, two women were checking him out. One made a sad face, as if asking what the hell his problem was. Then she crooked her finger at him with a wicked smile. Yeah, he got that message loud and clear too. Drumming his fingers impatiently on the wheel, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead, he didn’t realize the light had changed until the women pulled into the intersection and slowed, as if waiting for him to catch up. He turned on his signal and peeled off to the right.