by G. K. Brady
Gage laughed.
Grims grasped his shoulder. “All I can say, Nelsy, is if you’re gonna start something with a MILF, make it easy on yourself and pick a widow.” He winked and walked toward a group of fans clamoring for autographs.
Gage stood in a stunned fog, chewing on Grims’s words. Who knew the Grim Reaper was a sage?
Coming to, he headed toward a cluster of waiting friends and family. Lily hadn’t texted him back, so when his eyes landed on her, he blew out a breath of relief, his spirits climbing like a helium-filled balloon making a break for the stratosphere. She smiled shyly, and he made a beeline for her, eyes fixed on only her, unaware at first that she stood between Natalie and a strawberry blond.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey, Goldilocks” was all he had.
“I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Ivy.”
He broke his gaze and took in the strawberry blond staring at him with a glazed look. A little bigger than Lily, Ivy’s coloring and blue eyes were darker than Lily’s. She was pretty, but Lily outshone her in spades. Then again, he was beginning to think Lily outshone pretty damn near every woman on the planet.
“Happy to meet you, Ivy. You’re gonna help me convince your sister to attend every one of my home games from now on, right?”
Shit. I’m in trouble.
Gage excused himself from the restaurant table and headed to the men’s room. When he came out, Ivy was leaning against the wall by the ladies’ room, and they had the hallway to themselves. She lifted her chin at him and, bold as you please, said, “So are you into my sister?”
While his mind processed the question and the reason behind it—protective big sister? Nosy big sister?—he deflected. “Why do you ask?”
“Call me curious.” She tilted her head as if appraising him.
Gage arched an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning my sister doesn’t date.”
Before he could stop himself, his posture straightened—probably because he felt his chest inflate. “We’re not dating.”
“Whatever.” She flapped a hand at him. “The fact that she’s here, and that she’s actually introduced you to me, leads me to conclude you’re different.”
“Different from …?”
“The idiots she typically meets.”
Now he was off balance, and he wasn’t sure what bothered him more: Lily meeting idiots or the possibility that Lily was introducing him to Ivy because she wasn’t interested in him—the way he wanted her interested anyway.
“What kinds of idiots does she typically meet?” And how do I keep her from meeting them in the first place?
“They’re irrelevant. As far as dating her, I suspect you’d like to change that, am I right?” Ivy gave him a sly smile.
He nearly blurted out a yes but stopped himself in time. Instead, he held an internal debate over how to respond. Play it safe and stick to the “strictly business” scenario? Or admit I want to date her sister and run the risk of a) humiliating myself when big sister laughs in my face, or b) losing my balls when big sister’s protective self rampages?
Apparently, he was taking too long to formulate his answer because Ivy added, “You called her ‘Goldilocks,’ and I see how you look at her.”
This caught him by surprise. “How do I look at her?”
“Like a man who hasn’t eaten in a week.”
He coughed out a laugh. “Have you considered it’s because the appetizer plate was sitting in front of her?”
“Pfft. Nice try, ace, except the plate was empty when I caught you staring. And don’t worry. No one else picked up on it.”
He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. Where the hell is this going?
As if she’d read his mind, she said, “I love my little sister, and I want to see her happy. Something tells me you might be good for her.”
Ivy had just captured all of his attention. “I think you’re reading way too much into this.”
“Well, I don’t.” She cinched her arms over her chest. “Look, I’m pretty damn sure my sister’s last date was with her late husband, Jack.” She shot him a knowing look that had him giddy and squirming inside at the same time. Either that or what he’d eaten so far wasn’t settling right.
“You do know about Jack, right?” she said.
He nodded. “I know she was married to him, that he was Daisy’s father, and that he died. That’s about it.”
“Well, I’ll give you a few more insights.” She paused and raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if marshaling her thoughts, then leveled a penetrating gaze at him. “My sister was really young when she met Jack. He was eight or nine years older, and there’s been some debate as to whether she was even legal. In any case, she was dazzled and she fell hard. Now don’t get me wrong—we all loved Jack. He was an easy guy to love because he was charming as hell. He was also a magnetic, outgoing showman that people were drawn to—especially women. And boy, did he eat it up. I think flirting for him was as natural as breathing. I don’t think he was ever unfaithful, but I know he and Lily fought about the attention he used to get and give.”
Enthralled, Gage gave her a go-ahead nod.
“No one questioned that Jack loved Lily. He took good care of her, and they seemed happy.” Another pause, to pull in a breath this time. “But he wasn’t perfect. No one is. She was young, head over heels, and overlooked his faults. The problem is that since his death, she’s forgotten those faults ever existed and has built him up into this impossibly perfect paragon in her mind. Which he never was. Hell, if he came back today, he wouldn’t live up to the image she’s painted of him.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
“I’d like to see someone make her forget Jack. Oh, not completely, of course, but enough so she can put those memories in a box, shelve it, and start living again.”
He pointed his thumb at his chest. “And you think I can make her forget him?”
“I look at you, and you’re a man who’s used to the spotlight, yet you don’t seem caught up in it. As a matter of fact, I think I owe you an apology.”
His eyebrows crawled to his hairline. “Why?”
“Without having met you, I had you pegged for a cocky prick hot to fuck anything with a vagina.”
“Whoa!” He put his hands up in surrender, trying not to laugh. “Are you always so direct?”
She shrugged. “I find it takes a lot less time and BS.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” He glanced down the hallway, relieved no one was around to interrupt this very fascinating conversation. “So now that you’ve met me, am I still a cocky prick?”
She shot him a broad grin that made his insides uncoil a fraction. “I don’t think so. I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character, and you strike me as grounded. A surprisingly nice guy, but no pushover. Someone I would approve of for my little sister.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear I pass the, uh, test. Maybe you’ll put in a good word for me with your sis?”
A head dip was her answer. Curiosity had its talons hooked in him. “So what about the idiots she meets?”
She smirked. “Guys get starstruck. First of all—and I’m sure I’m not telling you something you don’t already know—she’s beautiful, and then they find out she sings. Or they see her perform—which doesn’t happen as much as it used to—and they just want to get in her pants. They don’t care who she really is, or that she has a daughter, or anything about this,” she tapped two fingers against her temple, then her heart, “or this. I’m guessing you go through the same kind of thing, but on crack. Women only see the pro athlete, and they line up to suck your dick because they think you’re this … this god.”
He tried to choke down his laughter, but he couldn’t, and it escaped in a bark. “Could you please point me to this line of women?” he managed. “And tell them I am, in fact, a god?”
“You’re funny,” she scoffed good-naturedly.
“Yeah, I’m thinking of
giving up hockey for stand-up. What do you think?”
She burst out with a laugh. “Don’t quit your day job.” In a gesture that warmed him, she placed her hand on his arm. “I hope I’m not making you too uncomfortable. I must say, though, you’re taking it well.”
He shrugged. “I’m flattered you think I’d be good for your sister, but it’s really—”
She flung her hands in the air. “Yeah, yeah. She’s feeding me the same bullshit. It’s all business, yada, yada, yada.” She added an eye-roll.
“No, I was going to say it’s up to her.” He gave her a pointed look, and her eyes gleamed with understanding at what he’d just confessed. The puck was in Lily’s rink, so to speak, and all she had to do was pass it to him. He was ready to charge the net with it.
What Gage didn’t reveal to Ivy was that despite Lily having a daughter he didn’t know, despite the ghost of a husband hanging around, he couldn’t deny the odd sensations in his chest when he was with her. His heart seemed to balloon and levitate and invert all at once. In fact, the damn thing tripped the same erratic way every time he thought about her, which was constantly.
Ivy brightened. “Okay, then. Consider me on your side. Anything I can do to further the cause of,” she laced her fingers and brought them to her cheek while she fluttered her lashes, “wuv, twue wuv, you just let me know.”
“Princess Bride?”
“None other.” She scuffed her heel against the floor. “Why don’t I give you my cell number?”
He chuckled and whipped out his phone. “Because?”
Her whole upper body seemed to shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. In case you want to take my sister out and you need someone to watch Daisy. In case you get stuck and need help interpreting her—Lily, not Daisy. Not that I’ll be able to shed light on her every word or move, but at least I’m closer than you are.”
I’m hoping that changes. “Thanks. I appreciate your, your …”
“Butting in? It’s what big sisters are for.”
He’d been thinking more along the lines of her offer to help, but he chose to keep it to himself. He was still processing Lily’s big sister. Energy spun from Ivy like a dust devil spun dirt into Colorado’s shimmering July heat. Yeah, she was a firecracker on steroids, but she seemed genuine, and he liked her. She was probably a lot like his big sister: fierce and loyal and true.
“You know, you and my big sister would make quite the team. But seriously, thanks for coming with Lily tonight and for talking her into dinner afterward. I don’t normally do the dinners, and I’m really enjoying myself. I’m sure it’s because of the company.”
For an instant, Ivy seemed at a loss for words, but she recovered. “Yeah, I think you’d be good for her. Now all we have to do is convince her to let you in.”
Chapter 11
If Wishes Were Wings, I’d Crash
If Gage didn’t believe he was in trouble the night before, he knew it for sure the next day when he called his sister for advice.
“Hey, Gage. Awesome game last night! I’ve been showing the video of your game-winning goal to everyone in the office. What the hell kind of explosives did they shove up your butt?”
He laughed. “No explosives. Just an extra dose of orneriness as we get closer to playoffs, I guess.”
“Well, you should be that ornery more often, Baby Bro.”
“Duly noted.” He was seated at his kitchen counter, staring at the pines beyond the window, while Hobbes had a sniff-fest around the fireplace in the family room. The cat had been smelling his way around his new digs all morning. “Hey, Sar, have you, uh, ever dated anyone with kids?”
“No. Why?” Her voice had a decidedly suspicious ring to it. He’d expected as much.
“Just curious.”
“Wait. Are you dating someone with kids? Wait. Are you dating?”
“Haha, very funny. And it’s none of your business.”
“Which means you are dating someone with kids.” Her tone softened. “You must really like her. Do you think she’s ‘The One’?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, double-guessing his wisdom in calling her. Three generations of women had hammered him with “The One.” Damn romance novels, setting ridiculously unbelievable standards.
“Sarah, I haven’t known her that long. How the hell would I know if she’s the one, the two, or the nine-squared?”
“So back to this woman you’re dating.”
“We’re not exactly dating, but the more I’m around her, the more I want to be dating her.”
Whoa! Had he really said it out loud? To his sister? Shit, he was spewing confessions to sisters like a malfunctioning water dispenser.
His worry over the wisdom of sharing was erased a beat later when Sarah said, “And you’re hesitant to date her because she has a kid?”
“No, I think I can work with that part.”
“So what’s holding you back?”
He let out a wry chuckle. “I’m not sure. She is. I think. It’s weird because there’s this … this spark whenever we’re together, and I’m pretty sure it goes both ways. But I also feel like she’s got walls up, and I wonder if it’s me reading her all wrong and she really doesn’t want to date me, or if it has something to do with her daughter. I mean, that’s gotta be tough, right? You want to protect your kid, and there are all these whack jobs running around. It’d probably make you think twice about getting involved with someone.”
The other very real possibility, one he kept to himself, was that Lily was still in love with Jack. Had her loyalty made her run that night? Guilt was a powerful motivator, a fact Gage understood only too well.
“To tell the truth, Sar, I’m not sure what to do if I want to get close to this woman. I don’t know a thing about kids. How am I supposed to act around them?”
His sister let out a strangled sigh. “Gage, I’m gonna tell you something—and don’t you dare hold it over my head—but I’ve always thought you’d be a phenomenal dad. You have a shitload of patience. You always take care of everyone without whining. I don’t know what your family would do without you.”
This touched him with warmth and guilt. He wasn’t the Superman his family always made him out to be. Hell, if he weren’t so self-centered, he’d be back in the Bay Area with them instead of chasing his pro hockey dreams. He “took care of them” by spending money, which was selfish in itself because it soothed his conscience.
“I think you’re giving me way too much credit, Sar.”
As if she hadn’t heard him, she barreled on. “You’re also wise beyond your years, Little Bro, though God knows where you get it from. Not Mom or Dad, that’s for damn sure.”
“I get it from Grandma,” he said without thinking. He felt a familiar stab in his chest. God, he missed her. How long had it been since he’d talked to her? He needed to call her. Today. Would she know who he was? Would she know what a phone was?
“And another thing,” his sister continued. “You do know how to act around kids. Don’t you visit kids in the hospital and sponsor a kids’ hockey team?”
“Yeah, but that’s different.”
“Is it? How old is the daughter?”
“Five.” A thought flared in his brain. “Same age as my mites.”
“There’s your answer!” Triumph rang in Sarah’s voice. “Take the little girl skating. Get to know her and let her get to know you. If she doesn’t already skate, teach her. Hell, add her to your mites team!”
“Huh. Hadn’t considered it.”
“That’s why you have me, the all-seeing, all-knowing—”
“Thanks, Yoda,” he deadpanned. “What if I make her nervous, though?”
“You don’t make anybody nervous. Well, except the goalies who want to drop their jockstraps when they see you streaking in,” she laughed. “Look, just relax and be yourself. That’s really all you need to do.”
Though he wasn’t convinced Sarah had it right, he texted Lily when he hung up. About the fan mail …
<
br /> His phone chirped immediately. Well, hello to you too, Professor. I haven’t had a chance to dig in yet.
He could practically hear her musical laugh, and he found himself smiling at nothing in particular. Like a complete idiot.
Gage: No problem. I was thinking we should go through it together here.
Lily: Where’s here?
Gage: My place. That way you can see where and how I live. More background for social media. Or I could come to yours if it’s easier.
His breathing stalled during the long minutes it took her to reply.
Lily: Probably better if I come to yours. When?
Gage: Two hours from now?
That would give him enough time to spruce the place up and run out to buy drinks and snacks. What did kids eat anyway?
Lily: I pick Daisy up from school in an hour so she’ll be with me.
What he’d hoped for. At least he thought so. He pulled in a breath to quell his spiking nerves. Bring her. Perfect time for me to meet her. She can hang with Hobbes. Unless she’s allergic. Is she allergic to cats? Or she can play video games. Do you let her play video games?
Lily: Are you sure you’re not a serial killer luring us to our doom?
Gage: No, I’m not sure, but being a serial killer is bad for PR, right? Shit. Now I have to give it up before I even get started. You’re taking all the fun out of this.
Lily: LOL. I do what I can.
“And you do it very well,” he chuckled aloud.
Hobbes gave him a look that seemed to say, “You’re acting like a complete and utter doofus. You know this, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he answered the cat, as if to prove that yes, he was a total doofus by addressing the damn thing in the first place.
And if anyone was luring anyone to their doom, it was him luring himself.
Lily crept her Highlander up an inclined driveway to a wide wood-and-stone affair nestled among tall evergreens, with peaked roofs and massive decks. It screamed of masculinity yet was warm and inviting. Like its owner.
Said owner stepped out of the front door and pointed her farther up the drive toward a three-car garage.