The Muse and the Fairy Tale (New Hampshire Bears #1)

by Mary Smith

  “You’ve got it bad for her.” Kian relaxed because we weren’t talking about him anymore.

  “I don’t know why, but I kind of do.” I jumped up on the clean part of the counter as Kian began to clean the rest.

  “You do like older women,” he stated.

  “She’s only ten years older. It’s not like she’s eighty.”

  “Kyson, you’ve always had it bad for older women. It started when you asked out our neighbor’s daughter.”

  “Hey, there was only a few years difference,” I corrected.

  “You were ten and she was eighteen.”

  “I said a few.”

  “Not to mention you asked out every senior girl when you were a freshman in high school.”

  I shrugged with a smile. “There were a lot of pretty girls.”

  “And lastly, Angela—”

  “Stop!” I seethed at him. “You’re not allowed to say her name.”

  Kian held up his hands. “I’m sorry; I was just saying.”

  “I have to unpack.” I leapt off the counter and stalked into the living room. I grabbed my suitcase, bag, and went off to my room.

  I tossed everything onto the bed and stared at it. Damn it. Why did he have to say her name? I’d done so well forgetting her and the heartbreak.

  I shook my head. I needed to think about the here and now. It had been over a year. I let that part of my life go. Thankfully, my phone buzzed, and I welcomed the distraction.

  Okay. I’ll be at the game, and we can go out.

  “I knew you’d see it my way, Meadow.” I smirked at my phone.

  I spent a lot of the night hounding my brother about his new love, but he wasn’t giving up any details. No matter how much I asked.

  Now, Saturday had arrived and it was Kian’s turn to rag on me. After the game, I was going out with Meadow. Excitement shot through me every time I pictured her stunning blue eyes or her hot curves.

  I sat in my stall, dressed except for my jersey. I closed my eyes and hoped this game would be fast and great, and our date would start on a high note.

  Coach Long was louder than normal, and he looked pissed at the world. I couldn’t understand why because we’ve been playing well. But he still yelled.

  Out on the ice, I tried my best to search the crowd for Meadow, but I didn’t see her. I should have asked her where her seats were located.

  Why didn’t I do that?

  I felt like an idiot for not texting her earlier and asking. As I stretched one leg and then the other, I took a few breaths and cleared my mind of everything but hockey. No matter how much I wanted to think of her, hockey had to come first right now.

  Chapter Seven

  Meadow

  It was a win for the Bears and Kyson. He racked up two assists tonight, and he had the biggest smile on his face. I shuffled with the rest of the crowd out of the door into the cool afternoon air. Didn’t fall just start yesterday? It felt as if winter was coming much quicker this year.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it was Harlow.

  “Yes?”

  “Have you gotten your hands down Mr. Fine’s pants yet?”

  I shook my head. “Why did I even tell you about the…well, whatever this is?”

  “It’s a date. D-A-T-E. I’m sure you remember what those are.”

  “Barely,” I mumbled, making my way to my car. “Don’t you remember my last date?”

  “I do not.”

  “It was that online date. He told me he was six foot one and a body builder, but he ended being five foot two with the shape of a stick figure.”

  It was a horrible night. He did have a great personality, but he’d lied about his appearance. I wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover, but if you lie, I am done.

  “Oh right, but this is different because you already know he’s hot.”

  “Why did I say anything to you?” I repeated my question.

  “Because you needed to work through your nerves. Although, I’m not sure why you’re nervous”

  “He’s twenty-five.”

  “So!” she shouted. “Does this mean he is some sort of mutation? Does it mean you can’t relate to him or have an in-depth conversation? There are a lot of mature twenty-five year olds and it’s not like you to judge someone with knowing them first.”

  I reached my car and sighed in defeat. “You’re right.”

  “Duh. Of course, I am.”

  I laughed.

  “Listen, Meadow,” Harlow lowered her voice, and I knew she was about to get serious. “Forget his age and just go have a fun time. You’ve been so caught up in your books the past two years, I don’t think you’ve done anything else.”

  “I really haven’t.” I sighed again.

  “Then give your vibrator a break and get some young, hot dick.”

  Others would be been appalled by Harlow’s statement, but that was how she was and she’ll never change.

  “Any other advice?” I dared to see what else she might say.

  “Wear a condom. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

  I drove across town to the deli Kyson told me about. I’d been here a few times, and it had descent food. I parked and wished I’d asked him what he drove to see if he was already here. There weren’t too many cars in the parking lot, so I decided to head inside before I chickened out and left altogether.

  Kyson wasn’t inside yet, and I took a corner booth to wait for him. The young waitress came over, and I ordered a water, telling her I was waiting for a friend to join me.

  Friend?

  Is he?

  I pushed my hand through my hair. I was thirty-five, not some fifteen year old on my first date wondering if I should change my Facebook status to: in a relationship now or after the date.

  What is my Facebook status?

  I couldn’t remember. Maybe I should just put: It’s complicated, but I have a cat, so it’s okay. I don’t think that one was available. It should be though.

  I gave the waitress a small smile as she sat the water in front of me. I took a couple quick gulps to soothe my dry throat. My nerves were getting the best of me, and it was so dumb of me to be this way. I’ve been on hundreds of dates. I knew how this went. Small talk. Awkward silence. More small talk. Eating. Lame jokes. And it would be over.

  I could get through this. Then when it was over, I’d go home and finish my rewrites, hit up Netflix, and then go to bed.

  Simple.

  Until he walked in.

  My hormones went into overdrive as I studied him coming toward me. He was in black dress pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms. His wide, black tie was loosened and the top button undone.

  He was sex on a stick.

  He was the definition of sex.

  He was fucking hot.

  “Hi, Meadow.” Kyson’s voice broke me out of my sex-filled daydream.

  “Hi, Kyson.” I smiled.

  I’m not fifteen. I’m a mature adult. I squeezed my thighs together to help relieve the tightness building just from looking at him.

  “You look great.” He took a seat across from me.

  “Really?” I looked down at myself. I had my yellow New Hampshire Bears t-shirt on. It was too tight over my breasts, but comfortable overall. Plus, I had a pair of flared jeans on with my fashionable construction boots. I was so casual there was no way I looked good. However, I had worked on my hair and makeup for the first time in I don’t know how long. Neither turned out well, or at least I thought they hadn’t turned out well.

  “Did enjoy the game?”

  “Yes, I did, even though you couldn’t pull out three assists in the end,” I joked.

  Kyson smiled. “I’m not one to pull out. I tend to like the happy ending of it all.”

  My mouth dropped as the waitress came over to the table. Kyson ordered hot tea.

  “You two know what you want to eat?” she asked, looking between us.


  “I’ll have the chicken on rye, but no tomatoes,” I said.

  “Sounds good. I’ll have the same thing.” Kyson’s green eyes were still locked on mine. Did he even look at the menu?

  She nodded and left us alone again. Kyson opened his mouth to say something, but I stopped him.

  “I received the cover last night. Would you like to see the final product?”

  His eyes lit up. “Sure.”

  I opened my phone to my photo gallery and handed it to him.

  “Shit,” he mumbled, studying the screen.

  “Do you hate it?” I was apprehensive to see what he thought about it and now I wondered if it had been a mistake.

  “The opposite actually. I didn’t know what to think after I saw the picture. This looks like a real book cover.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m writing a book.”

  “I know; I’ve been reading your books.”

  “So, you’ve said.” I reached for my phone, but he pulled it away from my grasp.

  “Are there any pictures of your sex shed? Maybe you in the corset you promised me, but didn’t follow through with.” His tone was low enough for me to hear and seductive enough to make me squeeze my thighs again.

  Two could play this game. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I held my hand out for my phone.

  “You have no idea about how much.” Kyson winked, giving my phone back.

  “Is there a particular reason you’re so flirtatious tonight?” It was time to clear the air between us. I wasn’t some immature woman. I’ve been around the block, and I wasn’t in the mood for games.

  “I like you. Does that bother you?”

  “No,” I said without thinking. “I mean, I’m thirty-five, you’re twenty-five—that’s a ten year difference.”

  Kyson eyed me for a beat before resting his arms on the table, leaning forward. “Why do you write about hockey?”

  “Oh.” I didn’t expect a change of subject. “I love hockey. It’s always been my favorite sport. I’ve followed it for years, especially the Bears.”

  “Why did you become an author?”

  I relaxed a bit. It brought me comfort to talk about books, hockey, and my career. “I love how a story can take you away from reality.”

  “Why?”

  “Well,” I paused. How far should I go into this conversation? Let’s see if he could handle my reality. “I’ve read books since I was a child. After my dad was killed, my mother began to spiral further and further into her depression. The books took me away from all of my real-world problems. In books, I went too far off lands, cross-country adventures, and just…somewhere else.”

  At my age, you’d think I already had a grip on my past, but there were times it would sneak up and bite my ass.

  “Why romance? Why not just write biographies of great hockey players? Some of them were quite adventurous.”

  “You want the truth?”

  “I can handle it. Even at my age.” He curled his lips at the word.

  “I keep trying to find the fairy tale.”

  He seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

  I couldn’t answer right away because the waitress brought our sandwiches. I really hadn’t meant to tell him that truth. I’d planned on lying, but those damn green eyes and libidinous jaw made me forget we weren’t more than friends.

  When the waitress left, Kyson didn’t touch his sandwich; in fact, neither did I.

  “What did you mean?” He repeated his question.

  “I’m still hoping to find my Prince Charming, Mr. Right, or whatever you want to call him.”

  “Do you want children someday?”

  Another out-of-the-blue question. “Since we’re being so truthful, no. I don’t want kids.”

  “Why?” He took a bite of the sandwich.

  “I just never saw myself as a motherly kind of person. I’ve always surrounded myself with career-oriented women and none of them have kids. But even as a kid, I never wanted to play with dolls and such. I bet you want a house full?” I wanted to stop talking about me as soon as possible since I was revealing every single detail about myself.

  “No, I don’t want kids either. I feel the same way you do. I’ve never been a fatherly type. Even guys on the team with children, theirs make me uncomfortable in a way.”

  I knew what he meant.

  “And I wish for the fairy tale ending as well. I want to find Ms. Right. When I finish my hockey career, I want to travel the world with the love of my life. And when we’re finished, we can find a small town to build a home and enjoy our lives. Maybe garden, take up cooking classes, or something fun. But I don’t want to be in a city anymore. I’ve been in them all my life, and I’m ready to be rid of the hustle and bustle of it all.”

  My heart stopped beating. Was he reading my mind? I wanted all of those same things. For the past couple years, I’d realized I needed to start thinking ahead more and I’d started a retirement account. I’d also started a savings account to fund my European travel dream.

  I desperately wanted to take a whole year off and just travel. I had plans to do it closer to my fortieth birthday, as a gift to myself. I hoped there would be someone to go with me, too, but I wasn’t sure if there would be.

  “You’re suddenly very quiet.” Kyson’s voice started my heart beating again.

  “I’m wondering why a twenty-five year old is thinking so far into the future?”

  Kyson’s small grin was sad. “Life is short, right? I plan ahead because it’s my end goal. I want to be an old man with my wife, in a rocking chair, next to me on our porch.”

  He couldn’t be serious. “Aren’t you supposed to be club hopping and trying to get laid?”

  “Were you doing that at my age?” he challenged me.

  “Well, no. I was working at a bank and paying bills.”

  “I’m not really into clubs. I’d rather be home, a movie on, and a glass of wine.”

  I rolled my eyes and dropped my head into my hands. He was lying. He had to be, because he was too good to be true. Maybe I was dreaming?

  “What’s wrong, Meadow?”

  I removed my hands and gazed into his eyes. He had a grin playing on his face.

  “If I had to guess what you’re thinking, I’d bet it’s that I’m not what you thought.”

  “Something like that,” I muttered.

  “Excuse me.” The waitress was at our table again. “Is there something wrong with the food?”

  I looked down and saw I’d not touched my sandwich; Kyson had taken only one bite.

  “The food’s fine. We’re just talking,” he answered.

  The waitress seemed appeased and left us alone.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” Kyson waited for me to answer.

  “Yes, you are,” I answered him softly.

  He gave a joyful smile. “You want to know more now, don’t you?”

  The jerk was right. He had my full attention now. Hell, I didn’t even care about the food in front of me.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged, trying to act as if I didn’t care.

  “Ask. Ask me whatever you want. You already know my age since you’ve said it ten times in the past five minutes.”

  “I’m just—”

  He held up his hand. “How about for the rest of this day we don’t think about or mention our ages? Deal?”

  I agreed quickly mainly because I was nosy as hell and I wanted to know more about Mr. Kyson Wick.

  “Okay. Now, ask.”

  “What’s off limits?” I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to see if he would lay down any boundaries.

  “Nothing.” His smirk grew.

  “Ask anything I want and you’ll be truthful and honest?”

  “I don’t lie.” His tone was serious. “And I’d expect the same from you.”

  “I don’t lie, either.” Suddenly, my anxiety grew as a million questions into my head. “Do you have sex shed?”

  Kyson roared in laughter, making me gigg
le. “No, Meadow, I do not.”

  Since I had no boundaries and he liked being blunt, I knew what I would ask. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  “Sixteen.” His smile was still on his face. “You?”

  “Eighteen. Have you been in a serious relationship?”

  His face dropped, and for the first time, his green eyes were sad. “Yes, I have been.”

  “What happened?”

  “It ended.”

  I could clearly see he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Your turn, same question.”

  “Right, it’s only fair. I had boyfriends and such, but I’ve never been in head-over-heels love.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I didn’t miss them when they were gone,” I stated plainly.

  “Good point. What’s your favorite book?”

  I snorted. “You just want one? I don’t think I could pick only one.”

  “Try.” He pushed a bit.

  “I’d say,” as I quickly thought of all my favorite books, “Jane Eyre.”

  “Never read it.”

  “You should.”

  “Do you enjoy music?”

  “I do. I love all kinds. You?”

  “It might surprise you but I enjoy the oldies and do-wop. My mother listened to them all the time.” His green eyes shined speaking of his family.

  “I am surprised. What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Star Wars. Kian made me watch it all the time until I completely fell in love with it. I watch it all the time. Do you have one?”

  “I watch a lot more TV than actual movies. I’m a Netflix junkie.”

  Kyson chuckled. “Who isn’t? I just finished The Office.”

  “I love Steve Carell. I finished Parks and Recreation. It’s so funny. I learned quickly if I wanted something to drink I’d have to hit pause.” I wasn’t about to tell him of the time water shot out of my nose from laughter.

  “So, what‘s your favorite TV show?” He picked up his water and sipped.

  “I’m a 90’s girl: Full House, Friends, Seinfeld, Fresh Prince. I could go on and on.”

  “I know the shows.”

  The waitress came and refilled our glasses. She stared down at my untouched sandwich. I told her I’d take mine to go.