“I can see that. But surely Jax’s office is exempt from the mess? I’ll wait there.”
“Well, Jax doesn’t have his own office. We share the space.”
Of course you do.
“Come in, and watch your step.”
The inside had been gutted to the rafters in the ceiling. The only thing left was the enormous hand-carved bar. I said, “You’re keeping that?”
“Yes. It’ll be the cornerstone element of the speakeasy.”
I had a pang of nostalgia when I realized the wall that separated the bar from the back room had literally bit the dust too.
Then I heard, “Lucy?”
I watched Dallas amble toward me, wearing a dusty pair of overalls and a yellow hard hat and carrying a clipboard. She looked so damn cute—not that I’d call her that to her face. “Dallas. Looks like you’re in your element.”
She gave me the widest smile I’d seen from her in ages. She’d stopped smiling altogether the last few months she’d worked at LI. “I am! Since we got underway with the new construction company, things have gone as smooth as a kale and acai smoothie straight from the blender.”
That comparison actually made sense. Then I realized she’d said, “new construction company,” which meant Jax wasn’t using his cousin Walker’s company, a development he’d forgotten to share with me. I shot Simone a look out of the corner of my eye. Seemed to be quite a bit Jax hadn’t shared.
“Anyway, what are you doing here?”
I held up the envelope. “Annika sent me to hand deliver these to Jax.”
“Gimme gimme.”
“Keep those grabby hands to yourself, sister. This info is for Jaxson Lund only. It says so right here.”
Dallas squinted at the envelope. “I don’t see anything.”
“Because it’s written in invisible ink that only the recipient can read.”
Simone snorted.
“That is hilarious.” She cocked her head, not caring that her hard hat slipped to the side, and perused me head to toe. “But you I can read as easily as a newspaper. Why are you so tense? And why am I seeing a dark spot on your aura, like an unresolved memory that recently resurfaced?”
I withheld a shudder. The woman was spookily intuitive. I wonder what she’d see between Jax and me now.
Sexual frustration in his aura probably.
“Be patient, Lucy,” Dallas said softly. “You’re missing one important piece before everything falls into place, but you won’t find it in the past.”
Gooseflesh erupted.
Then Dallas was hugging me . . . and tugging on the envelope for Jax. “Nice try.”
She smirked. “Can’t blame me. Before you go, if you want a tour of the upstairs, come find me.”
After she left, Simone said, “No matter how many times I see her do that, it still freaks me the fuck out.”
“No kidding.”
We ended up at what looked like a freestanding closet. Surely this couldn’t be . . .
“Welcome to our office.”
Inside wasn’t as rough as the outside, but it was jam-packed with paperwork and odds and ends. I moved a box of coffee pods from one of two chairs. I expected she’d leave me here, but she plopped into the chair opposite mine, apparently ready to chat.
Great.
“Look, Lucy, I’m sorry I called you Lucifer.”
“No harm done. It’s been a while since anyone has called me that, which tells me you’ve been involved as Jax’s partner longer than I realized.”
“Four years. We met at the height of his hockey career and the lowest point in his personal life. It was the common thread between us.” She set her elbows on the desk. “There’s no need to skirt the truth. Jax and I slept together a few times early on until we recognized we were better off as friends. I’ve got no interest in him besides a business partnership. That said, we are very close.”
“Why are you telling me this, Simone?”
“I want to be clear that I’m not the competition.”
I returned her forthright stare. “I appreciate you saying that. But my competition for Jax’s love never has been another woman; it’s been hockey.”
That response shocked her. Then a smile bloomed across her face. “Damn. He wasn’t kidding about your brutal honesty. He needs that, now that he’s back in a place mentally where he can handle it.” She paused. “He wasn’t kidding about your eyes either. He swore they were the most arresting shade of brown and when he met you it was like you could see into his soul.”
“Jax said that?”
“Granted it was in his drinking days. Then he’d play ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ over and over on the jukebox until I threatened to have it removed.”
“Will it bother you if I say that Jax hasn’t said anything about you except you’re his business partner?”
Simone shook her head. “He compartmentalizes his life. In some ways it’s good; in some ways it’s not. He keeps the bar stuff from you. He keeps the personal stuff from me.”
Just then Jax burst into the room saying, “Simone, have you seen—”
“Lucy?” she supplied.
His gaze zoomed in my direction and stayed there. Two strides later, he stood over me. He smiled and murmured, “Hey, beautiful,” and then he kissed me. More than a chaste peck on the mouth, less than a tongue teaser. “What are you doing here?”
“Annika didn’t tell you I was coming by?”
“Nope. It’s a happy surprise, though.”
I handed him the envelope. “PR stuff.”
“Have you looked at any of it?”
“Not my business, sport.”
He kissed me again. “Have you had lunch?”
“Yes,” I fibbed. I’d eaten a protein bar and a banana on the drive over here. “Why?”
“Because it’s rare that we can have a meal together. Just the two of us.”
I smirked. “Are you angling for a nooner?”
“Jesus. No.”
“Pity,” I said softly. I curled my hand around the side of his face. “It was surreal walking through here. I was sad to see no back room.”
“I watched them tear down the wall. Damn thing was flimsy.”
“It did shake pretty hard. But I always attributed that to you, Jax, not poor construction.”
“You always made the earth move for me too, baby.”
We stared at each other with stupid smiles on our faces until Simone cleared her throat.
“Uh, I’m still here, guys.”
Jax blushed. Then he pushed himself upright and offered me a hand. “Do you have time for a tour?”
Just then the whole upper floor shook, and someone yelled, “Look out!” before another loud crash sounded.
“Another time, okay? I’m already behind from missing two days this week.”
“Gotcha. Need me to get Meems?”
“Could you? And keep her tonight? And take her to school in the morning? Oh, and let her know that I won’t make it to her practice?”
“That’s asking a lot, Luce.”
I poked him in the ribs. “Don’t even. I spent one whole day fretting about the favor you asked and two whole days getting it done.”
“I appreciate it. I rewarded you for the favor beforehand, if you’ll recall.” He tacked on that wicked sexy smile and my entire body went hot.
“Only thing I can do is promise to return the favor,” I cooed back.
Heat flashed in those blue eyes.
“Omigod. You two are so obnoxious with this new relationship thing,” Simone said.
Dammit. I’d forgotten she was here. Jax had the power to make me forget everything but him.
We both looked over at her, and I was shocked to see her smiling.
Jax said, “What?” tersely.
“A happy Jax? Never thought I’d see the day. I love it, even though you are both too cute for me to take in large doses or I might vomit.”
I returned her smile and stood on tiptoe to give my man one last kiss. “See you later.”
Sixteen
JAX
Watching Mimi’s team get shut out again caused my blood to boil.
They’d played four games and lost four—even when it technically didn’t matter because there’d be no tournament at the end of the season. What bugged me about this situation was not only weren’t the kids having any fun, they weren’t learning anything except frustration.
Coach Dickface let them wander around on the ice with no plan, no encouragement and no coaching. The poor kid who’d gotten stuck playing goalie had only been relieved by another team member after he’d lain on the ice in the middle of the second period and wouldn’t get up.
The boy reached the bench, sobbing from exhaustion and humiliation because he’d let nine goals past. Nine breakaway goals on a half-ice court because his teammates had been milling around the opponent’s net, too late to help defend their own net.
The coach sneered at him. Whatever he said to the boy brought Gabi to her feet, and she got in the coach’s face, but he waved her off as if she were a pesky fly. I didn’t agree with this philosophy of a dedicated goalie anyway. Each kid should rotate into the position at the very least, or like in the Red, White and Blue Hockey league for the Mites age group, all six players on a team skated and they all defended their own net.
I doubted the kid would be back next week. This team had already lost four members due to “personal issues” according to Margene, so there wasn’t a full roster of kids to rotate in and out. Which meant more ice time, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“Jax.” Lucy rubbed her hand up and down my spine. “Glaring and swearing under your breath isn’t helping anyone.” She rested her cheek on my biceps. “Can you take it down a notch?”
“I’ll try.” Other parents behind us were equally disgruntled. For home games I arrived early to get a front row seat, which allowed me to hear what happened on the bench. Lucy sat to my right and Nolan sat on my left. My parents had attended once, and we’d managed to keep the entire Lund family from descending to support Mimi. She didn’t need that kind of pressure.
After the game, Dad had taken me aside and asked why I’d chosen community play over enrolling Mimi in a club hockey program. My answer—Mimi was trying the game to ensure she liked the sport before we committed her to club hockey—had surprised him, because growing up, he’d insisted on the best of everything for me, and I’ve no doubt that played into my success as a hockey player.
While Dad attended as many games as he could when I was in youth hockey, he had enormous responsibilities at Lund Industries, especially after my grandfather retired. So he hadn’t been the one hauling my ass out of bed at four A.M. and driving me to my first hockey practice of the day. He hadn’t been the one picking me up after school and taking me back to the rink. That’d all been Mom. She’d done it with a smile on her face most days—and a huge cup of coffee in her hand.
Early on Mom realized that hockey wasn’t a hobby sport for me; it was everything. In retrospect, that’s probably why she refused to let Nolan play. At the time she claimed she wouldn’t raise her sons to be rivals and hand them sticks to beat each other with. But looking back on the sheer number of hours it entailed getting me to practices and games and hockey camps . . . I suspected she’d had her fill of the hockey mom life with me. Yet even through my adulthood, she’d attended my college and pro hockey games. I’d never asked her if my retirement was a relief. And here I was, less than a year after retirement, back in the arena with her only grandchild following in my footsteps.
“You okay?” Lucy asked, adding another couple of strokes down my back.
I loved having her affection, from the soul-stealing kisses to something as simple as a touch. “Not really.”
She whispered, “I’ll bail you out if you get thrown in jail for taking a swing at him.”
“Are you advocating violence, Lucy Q?”
“Just this one time, so make it good.”
Laughing, I turned and kissed the crown of her head. “He’s the type that’ll sue, so no threats. Besides, that’s not a side of me that our daughter needs to witness.”
The instant that phrase left my mouth I knew it’d come back to bite me in the ass.
And it did, sooner than I’d expected, when Coach Dumbass opted to pull the goalie with five minutes remaining in the third period.
After the visiting team scored two more goals in less than a minute, another parent started raising a stink.
“Come on. Give ’em a little dignity, Coach D.”
“Have a heart.”
Someone else said, “He doesn’t have a brain, so as far as I’m concerned his heart is in question too.”
Lucy snickered beside me.
Gabi spoke to Coach D loud enough that I heard it. “Come on. Ask the ref to end the game. Pulling the goalie makes you look like a fool.”
Wrong thing to say.
“You’re out of line and that means you’re out of here,” he said, pointing to the locker room entrance. “Leave the ice.”
She laughed. “Make me, little man.”
He yelled for a time-out, then he turned his venom on her, ignoring his team skating toward him for instructions.
“You think you can boss me around and get away with it? You figure you’re such a big shot that you’re immune from repercussions? Wrong. I will have you fired, just like that.” He snapped his fingers in her face. “Now get off my bench.”
And that did it.
I stood up. “If Coach Welk leaves the ice, so will my kid.”
“Mine too,” someone said behind me.
Then the bleachers shook as every parent stood in solidarity.
His face had turned the color of an eggplant. “You’re all banned, hear me? From games and practices in this rink. I’ll see to it.”
“Try and keep me from my kid even one second of ice time, Dennis, and you’ll see exactly how I earned my nickname.”
His eyes widened. I knew he knew who I was, but he’d never acknowledged it to me.
Until that moment when he opened his big mouth. “You’ve got no power here, Lund, so get over yourself.”
“I don’t want power. I want my daughter to learn the skills to play hockey, and that’s not happening with you as her coach.”
“Stonewall is right,” a woman chimed in.
“If it was one of us complaining about your lack of coaching experience and skills, it’d be one thing. But all of us?” another guy inserted. “We’re done letting you call the shots.”
“Yeah, where’s the rink manager?” someone else said.
Margene had been sitting at the officials’ table. But as soon as Gabi signaled to her, she skated over.
“What’s going on here?” she demanded.
That’s when the ref got involved. “We’ve got a serious delay of game, so wrap this up and deal with it later.”
“No,” Gabi said. “We’re forfeiting.”
Coach D sputtered like a teakettle about to boil over. “You d-d-don’t. She c-c-can’t—”
“As the assistant coach, she can make that decision,” Margene retorted. To the ref she said, “Call it.”
The ref skated to center ice and blew the whistle.
That’s when I realized whatever was going on between the coach and the parents, the kids didn’t need to witness it. I turned and faced the group of about twenty-five behind me. “Who can supervise the kids in the locker rooms while we deal with this?”
Two hands went up, and then they were herding kids away.
Margene looked at Coach D, furiously texting on his cell. She said, “Put i
t away, Dennis, and quit tattling to your aunt.”
“That’s not who I’m texting,” he snapped back. “I think the Tribune sports section would love an exclusive on how Stonewall Lund is a bully and a troublemaker at a private ice rink where his daughter is enrolled.”
That smarmy little fucker.
Lucy’s hand on my arm kept me from launching myself at him. Or maybe her death grip was so she wouldn’t go after him after he brought Mimi into this.
While Coach Dipshit grinned like he’d just won the lottery, Gabi reached over, plucked his phone from his hand and smashed it beneath her skate.
Between the laughter and the clapping, I don’t know how I heard Lucy’s relieved intake of breath.
Then Margene blew her whistle to quiet everyone down.
Oddly enough, Nolan spoke first. “I’ll advise you, Coach Whoever you are, that the forms Mr. Lund signed are to protect his minor child, and any disclosure to the press that puts her—or any other child on this team—in the spotlight because of you purposely disclosing privileged information will have immediate legal repercussions.”
“Who are you? His lawyer?” Coach Douchebag sneered. “Of course Mr. Lund can’t go anywhere without an entourage.”
“I’m a lawyer,” one of the parents said, “and I couldn’t have phrased it any better. You are skating on thin ice, Coach Dyklar, if you’ll pardon the pun. Don’t make this worse on yourself by playing an ‘alert the media’ card you don’t have. I highly doubt the owner of this establishment, even if she is your relative, will want to tangle with lawsuits resulting from your reckless behavior endangering children.”
A harried-looking older man I’d seen around the rink moved quickly to reach our fun little lynching party.
“Coach Olin is head of personnel at Lakeside,” Margene said by way of introduction.
“I was here doing paperwork when the ref tracked me down. What’s this ruckus I’ve heard about how a coach called forfeiture?”
Coach Dickweed immediately jumped in with accusations, which Gabi countered, but with them talking over each other the main point had gotten lost.
Margene blew her whistle again. “I’m a neutral party.” She shot Coach D a hard look when he snorted. “I’ll give the play-by-play.”
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