SCORE (Boston Terriers Book 6)

by Jacob Chance

  I salute. “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on that.” He tips his chin in acknowledgement and walks toward the house. Resigned to my snowman building fate, I plod over to the snowy front lawn. Bending down, I place the outer edge of both hands in the snow and push them toward each other, forming a wet, white clump. Scooping the pile up, I pat each side until I form a round snowball. Setting it down in the snow, I begin to roll it forward. With each turn it makes, more snow sticks and as a result, the size increases. I don’t stop moving until I have a giant snowball. Using my mitten, I smooth everything out, making sure it’s tightly compacted and as smooth as possible.

  “Good work,” Nolan calls out from behind me.

  Rising up to my full height, I place my hands on my hips and contemplate my progress. “Not bad for someone out of practice.”

  “Building snowmen is like riding a bike. You can’t forget how.” He places a wooden box on the ground and begins to fashion the middle piece of Frosty.

  “What’s in the box?”

  “A little of this and a little of that.”

  “Vague much?”

  “I like to keep you guessing.”

  “You know, you’re kind of annoying.”

  He laughs, “I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s better than nice. Now stop slacking and make Frosty a head.”

  I’d flip him the bird if I didn’t have mittens on. As it is I only expel a huff of frustration and immediately begin forming the snowman’s head. I lose myself in the task, dismissing all thoughts except making the white ball as round as I possibly can.

  Nolan’s boots appear in front of me. “Frosty’s ready for his head whenever you want to do the honors.”

  Carefully, I wedge my mitten covered hands under the circle, cradling it as I rise up. Slowly, I maneuver the ball of snow until it’s situated perfectly in the center of the middle one. Taking two steps backward, I bob my head and admire the symmetry of our snowman.

  “He looks great. Now we’re going to add the finishing touches.” Nolan hands me the long, rectangular, wooden box he retrieved from the house. Flipping the lid upward, I smile when I see everything we could possibly need to decorate Frosty.

  “Where did you get this box of snowman accessories from? It’s awesome.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Snowman accessories? You’re adorable.”

  My cheeks flame with his praise in spite of the cold air. “What else should I call them?”

  “You can use any name you want.”

  I pluck two dark blue wooden circles from the contents and push the back pegs into the snowman’s head, making eyes. Nolan hands me an orange carrot for his nose and I burrow the plastic firmly into the center of his face.

  Rummaging through the box, I find several options for his mouth and choose my two favorite. “What do you think? Should we give him red lips or a dotted smile?” I hold up both, one in each hand.

  “The lips are more suited for a snowwoman. Frosty needs to smile like a dude.”

  I snort. “Okay, if you say so. Do you want to put them on?”

  “No, I’m having fun watching you.”

  Oh jeez. Thanks for making me self conscious. My hands are uncoordinated as I try to push the little, red, circular pegs into his head. I have to tug one of my mittens free and use my bare fingers to affix them properly.

  “Are you hungry yet?” Nolan asks.

  “I’m starving.”

  “You add his buttons and I’ll add his arms.” Once we’re finished we take another look. “What’s he missing?” Nolan rubs his glove under his chin.

  “A scarf.” I grab the blue, plaid length from the box and wrap it around his neck. “What do you think?” I step back and open my arms to each side.

  “I think he needs a hat.”

  “Oh, wow. How the heck did I forget about his hat?”

  I grab a black felt hat from the box and situate it on his head, but it flops to the side. “It’s going to fall off or blow away.”

  “Here.” Nolan holds two, inch long, metal spikes. “Hold the hat on and I’ll push these through the material on each side. We’ve had this problem in the past.”

  “When was the last time you used this kit?”

  His grin is sheepish. “I make snowmen every year.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Leaning forward, I hold the material in place while Nolan thrusts the spikes into Frosty’s head. “That should do the trick. All he’s missing is his pipe.”

  “A pipe? Do you think promoting smoking is a good idea? I think Frosty would make better choices than that.”

  “I think Frosty has a short life span and he should do whatever he wants. Let the poor snowman have some fun before he melts.”

  I titter, “Okay. Go for it.” I gesture toward the box and he picks up the pipe.

  He carefully presses it into the space right above his mouth. “How’s that look?” He backs up, standing next to me.

  I smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment at our creation. “He’s perfect.” My eyes swing to Nolan. And so are you.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nolan

  I fasten my seatbelt and drop the visor down to block the sun’s bright rays.

  “Where are you taking me, again?” Perri questions from the passenger seat of my mom’s Ford Explorer.

  “Weren’t you listening when I told you?” I smirk knowingly as I guide us down the long driveway. At the time I told her, I could tell she wasn’t paying full attention. All her focus was on enjoying her sandwich.

  “I was trying to, but in all fairness, you brought it up when I was in the midst of a fluffahnuttah high. I don’t know how you’d expect me to remember anything we discussed then.”

  “You might have a point. Those sandwiches never get old. As to where we’re going, I’m taking you to the center of town. It’s your typical New England quaint main street, and there are some stores there you might like.” We turn out onto the main road and drive down a tree lined winding road.

  “I want to grab a sweatshirt or a t-shirt for Eliza. She’s been pretty down lately and I feel horrible for not being home with her.”

  “Would she want you to give up an opportunity to get out of town so you could be there with her?”

  “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here, but I still feel guilty about coming. She’s so torn up about Owen.”

  “They split?”

  “Yeah. And it was pretty bad.”

  “No wonder he was such a bear the last time I saw him. Maybe they’ll find a way to work whatever it is out.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping, but Eliza doesn’t seem to think so.”

  “I guess if they really care about each other they’ll find a way.”

  “Sometimes things aren’t that clear cut. Eliza has a lot of baggage that a twenty-one year old guy might not want to deal with.”

  “If Owen loves her then he shouldn’t let anything stop him.”

  “Is that how you see love? So cut and dried? That’s a narrow minded view and I can’t say I agree. Loving someone doesn’t mean you’ll be together. It only means you want to be. Not every love story can have a happily ever after.”

  I’m a little surprised by her impassioned reply. Is she speaking from experience? And the thought of her wanting to be with another guy tears me up.

  I signal at the traffic light and turn onto Main Street. The mountains are in front of us, providing a picturesque backdrop for the brick buildings lining both sides of the road. There’s a large white church near the town green. When the leaves change color the starkness of the church looks like a painting against the vibrant fall hues.

  “This is adorable. I love it.”

  “Thanks. You should see the foliage in the fall.”

  “I bet the trees must be incredible, especially with the mountains all around.”

  “If you’re not sick of me by then you can come for a weekend. I’ll take you to the Fall Festival. There’s a ton of good food and drinks to sample.” />
  “Food and drinks, seems like you already know how to win me over.”

  I park curbside in front of a gift shop where I know she’ll be able to find a variety of items that might interest her. The bell above the front entrance jingles when I open the door and usher Perri inside. Her eyes excitedly jump around the store until she settles on something she wants to take a closer look at. She scampers off in a flash and I smile watching her, before following at a more leisurely pace.

  “What do you think of this shirt?” She holds up a baseball shirt with black sleeves. The outline of Vermont is on the shirt and honey bees are flying across it. At the top is printed, Vermont, I’m sweet on you.

  “It’s okay, I guess. But if you’re looking for something related to this particular area you’d be better off going with a Killington one.”

  “Eliza collects bees. This is perfect for her.”

  “Gotcha. Then I think you should get it. Do you need me to stay here with you and help, or can I check out a few things?”

  She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I appreciate your company, but I don’t need you to babysit me. Go do what you need to. I might be a while anyway. These kinds of shops have so much to look at. They have a way of making me lose track of time.”

  Placing my hand on her upper arm, I squeeze gently. “Take your time. I’m in no rush.”

  “Thank you.” The smile she gifts me with makes me feel like a superhero. As if I could take on the world, or like I did something amazing; life changing, even.

  “I think you’ll really enjoy this cafe. It’s one of my mom’s favorite places. She used to bring us here for hot chocolate when we were younger and she’d get one of their famous coffees.” The outside of the building is painted a bright blue with a dark red door. Before you enter you already know that it’s not going to be a traditional space. Inside, the vibe is casual and low key, but colorful.

  “Are those for sale?” Perri gestures with her thumb to a side wall covered in local artist’s work.

  “Yeah, and most of them are a steal compared to the quality of work.”

  “I may need to purchase one of the landscapes. They’re amazing.”

  “There’s no shortage of beauty in this state. I guess the bitterly cold, snowy winters are the trade off.” The line moves at a decent pace and we’re next to order. “Do you know what you want?”

  “I’ve been dying for a P.S.L. since we left Boston.”

  “What’s a P.S.L.?” I’m almost afraid to ask in case this is something I should already know. But hell, she already knows about my virgin status, and it really can’t get much more embarrassing than that.

  “Pumpkin Spice Latte.”

  “Sounds gross to me.”

  “It’s delicious and I’m addicted to them. If I don’t get one each day I turn into a psycho. Watch out.”

  Is she joking? I can’t tell, but I hope she is. “You didn’t have one yesterday and you were fine.”

  “Ah, but I did in the morning before I saw you.”

  Maybe she’s not kidding about the psycho part. I’ve seen girls act crazy for less.

  I place our order and our coffees are in our hands minutes later. Perri tries to pay for them, but I won’t let her.

  “Don’t insult me. You’re my guest.”

  “I bet you’ll let the guys pay for their own stuff when they get here.” She sulks.

  “You’re right. But they’re complete mooches and will take advantage of anything they can. That’s what guys do.”

  “Is that what you do?”

  “No, not usually. But I’m sure there are times when I have and thought nothing of it.”

  “That doesn’t really sound like you,” she mentions sinking down into a booth.

  I take the seat across from her. “I’m not perfect. I can be an asshole too.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know. Remember when you reprimanded me at Score? That wasn’t one of your finer moments. I wanted to junk punch you.”

  “Really? I didn’t think I was that bad. No way did I deserve a junk punch. And that conversation was motivated from my concern for your safety.”

  “Yep. Your heart was in the right place. Your mouth was talking out of your ass though.” Her droll tone has me laughing. “How do they get the heart on top to be so perfect?” she muses, staring down into her coffee cup.

  “I’ve never really thought about it. I drink my coffee black.”

  “You think pumpkin spice is gross, but you drink black coffee?” Her lip curls in distaste.

  “It’ll put hair on your chest.”

  She carefully studies me. “Do you have a hairy chest?”

  “No.” We both chuckle. “My dad used to tell me that was why he drank it black, and he doesn’t have a hairy chest either. There goes any truth to that old wives’ tale.”

  “When’s your brother going to be home? Will I get to meet him?”

  “He should arrive any time now. Your guess is as good as mine though. Donovan is already hard to pin down at eighteen. I can’t imagine what he’ll be like in a few more years.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

  “He’s going to love you.”

  She rests her chin on the top of her hands. “And will I love him too?”

  I scowl, my forehead pitting deeply in the middle. “Probably. All the girls seem to.”

  “Does that make you jealous?”

  Does it? No. I tick my head from side to side. “Nope. Not at all. There are plenty of women to go around.” It’s her turn to scowl and I’m tempted to smooth out the vertical wrinkle between her arched brows. “Finish up your coffee and we’ll head back to the house. It shouldn’t be too long before the rest of the guys get here.”

  “Who’s coming?”

  “Clancy, Flynn, and Darren.”

  What happened to Owen and Trevor?”

  “You know why Owen’s not coming. It’s the same reason Eliza isn’t here. Trevor had to work.”

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping for some female companionship. Not that your company hasn’t been great.”

  “I get it. But unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with all guys for the near future.”

  “Is your house going to turn into a crazy, party house once they arrive?”

  “I told them up front that they had to behave. I’m not going to have my parents come home to a fucked up house.”

  “I hope for your sake they listen.”

  “You and me both.”

  I smile. “Donovan’s here.”

  “How can you tell? We’ve barely crossed the threshold.”

  “His jacket’s in his cubby and his boots are on the floor.”

  “Damn, those are giant’s boots. Should I be afraid to meet this kid?”

  “There aren’t any kids here,” Donovan calls out from the doorway to the basement. His lips morph into a smile as he catches sight of me. Then we’re hugging and slapping each other on the back. Gripping his biceps I put some distance between us and look him over.

  “Dude, you’re not juicing are you?” I ask, concern for him assailing me.

  Donovan laughs, “No, I’m not.”

  “You mean like a fruit cleanse?” Perri interjects reminding me she’s there.

  I laugh, “No, that’s not the kind of juicing I meant.”

  She puts a hand on her hip. “What are you talking about then?”

  “Steroids.”

  “Ooh, you’re not doing them are you?” She hugs herself, carefully studying Donovan before flicking her gaze to mine. “He does look pretty big.”

  Donovan chuckles, “I’m big all over, angel.”

  Perri purses her lips. “You know the ones who feel the need to boast are usually the ones lacking.” She holds her pinky up and I could kiss her for putting him in his place.

  “Who is this gorgeous girl? And why is she with you?” Perri titters and smiles at him while I gnash my teeth in frustration. Here we go. I could’ve predicted how this
was going to go.

  “This is Perri Benson.”

  He takes her hand, but his eyes never leave her face. Actually that’s not accurate. They dip down to check out her sizeable rack before his smile widens. My nostrils flare as I try to curtail the urge to punch him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Perri.”

  “And you too, Donovan. Do you go by a nickname?”

  The bastard is still holding onto her hand. I want to break his fingers. It doesn’t matter that he’s my brother. He’s touching someone that I’ve come to care about more than I should.

  Perri slips her hand free and I relax slightly.

  “Some of my friends call me Van, but I prefer Donovan. Do you go to Boston University with Nolan?”

  “I do.”

  “It’s great catching up, but why don’t we take it upstairs. Clancy texted while we were out and they’ll be here soon.”

  “Friends of yours?” Donovan questions.

  “Yeah, and they’ll be friends of yours too if you attend B.U. Clancy’s captain of the hockey team.”

  “Really?” He pumps his fist. “Did you tell them to bring skates? We can play on the pond while they’re here.”

  “Don’t worry, I filled them in on everything this area has to offer. Now let's move this party upstairs. I need some help getting dinner ready.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nolan

  “Wow, dude. I can’t believe you live here,” Flynn announces as he looks around the finished basement. “I can’t wait to watch something on the giant screen. Is that fully stocked?” He points to the long bar along the side of the space. “Please tell me it is.”

  “Yes, and you’re welcome to drink whatever you want while you’re here. Let me show you guys to your rooms. Two of you will have to share, but there are two queen size beds in there, so you won’t have to spoon.” I smirk, opening the first door and Clancy waltzes in stating, “I’ll take my own room.”

  Darren scowls and shakes his head. “I’m not sleeping with Flynn. He farts in his sleep.”