by Amanda Cowen
I nod and hold on to the hem of his t-shirt, needing him to linger just a second longer. “I’ve got a bunch of touristy things planned for the day. Including dinner at Kensington Fish Market.”
Growly puppy sounds carry through the bedroom walls and break mine and Cash’s stare. We bought a Newfie puppy together a few week ago. We’ve been working hard at crate training her. She’s been sleeping in the spare bedroom. Cash has been doing really well with all this extra responsibility that comes with owning a pet. I, on the other hand, didn’t realize how much I valued my sleep.
His laugh is deep, and he bends so it rumbles past my ear as he kisses my neck. “She’s awake. And probably needs to go out for a pee.”
I groan, covering my eyes with a pillow. “I’m so sleepy.”
“What are you going to do if we ever have real babies?” He laughs quietly into another kiss, this one to my temple. “Bexley is our baby training.”
And yes, we named her after Bexley, California, the city we where we first met.
“Cool it, Brooks,” I say, laughing. “Fur babies are the only babies we will be having anytime soon.”
When I let him go, he turns to pack the rest of his stuff for the day into his hockey duffle bag. I follow him out of the bedroom, freezing as I watch him let Bexley out of her crate from the spare bedroom. Her tail wags like crazy and she paws at Cash’s leg. He bends down, and she licks his face uncontrollably.
“Are you going to bring her outside?” I ask.
His smile stretches from one side of his face to the other as he nods, slowly. He loves Bexley no end, and Bexley loves him way more than she loves me. I’m really not all that confident once he gets outside with her that he’ll make it to practice.
“Don’t make that face,” he says, lips pouting on the quiet words and then curling into a panty-dropping smile. “I won’t toss her a ball. I’ll let her do her business, and I’ll be right back.”
He tucks Bexley under his arm and hitches his bag over his shoulder. With a wink, he turns and leaves. The door closes with a quiet click.
I turn around to see our home spread out before me with a continuous kitchen, living room, and dining room. Everything still feels so surreal. The living room has dramatic oversized windows that bring in natural sunlight, and a gorgeous fireplace with custom tiles is the focal point of the room. The kitchen’s equipped with stainless steel appliances, gas range, granite countertops and breakfast bar. A separate dining room is located adjacent to a large private deck which offers plenty of serenity and sunshine.
The space is open, big, and more than anything I love that it is our home. I walk to the one window closest to me, press my hands to the glass, and look down. In the backyard, I watch Cash playing around with Bexley. He gives her a good and loving head rub before he brings her up the steps to drop her off inside. Moments later I hear the back door click open.
“Love you, Mittens,” he says, into the back landing.
Bexley’s claws click along the hardwood as she makes her way into the kitchen and toward her food bowl. I turn and look out the window again to see Cash kick his motorcycle into gear, and pull away from the curb. Even from this vantage point, he looks ridiculously hot. I wait until I can no longer see him in the blur of traffic before looking away. When I turn around, Bexley is wagging her tail and looking up at me.
“Alright, Bexley, time to get ready. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
_______________
“I freaking love Boston,” Lyndsey gushes. “And I freaking love how happy you two are together.”
Nothing is more surreal than this, I swear it. If you would have asked me a year ago if I thought Lyndsey and Louis would be visiting Cash and I in Boston, I would have never believed it. We spent the afternoon together walking Freedom Trail, stopped to shop at Faneuil Hall, and then made an appearance at the New England Aquarium. The four of us finally made it to Kensington Fish Market for a late dinner. We eat on the outdoor patio, staring out at the view— ocean and nothing but blue skies. The perfect backdrop to a perfect day.
“Yeah, Cash,” Louis chimes in. “You’ve really done a three-sixty. Good for you, man. This domestic and tamed side of Cash looks really good on you.”
“Thanks,” Cash replies and looks over at me with a pleased smile. I watch as his tongue slips out and wets his lips. He stares at my mouth, lips parted. “I’m a lucky man.”
“For a while I doubted you, Brooks.” Lyndsey points her fork in his direction.
He tilts his head, letting a tiny smile tease the corner of his lips. “I know, Lyndsey. I’ve apologized to you endlessly.”
“You know what happens if you ever hurt my sister again,” she says and takes a sip of her drink. “I’ll attack you. I’ve done it once, and I won’t hesitate to do it again.”
He laughs, shaking his head in mock exasperation, but amusement digs his dimple into his cheek and it makes my heart grow ten sizes too big for my chest. “For the hundredth time, you don’t have to worry.”
“You two seem like you’re doing really well too,” I say.
“Yeah…” Louis’s voice trails off as he shares a knowing glance with Lyndsey.
“We have some very exciting news,” she says, finishing his sentence.
“What?”
Louis bites on his bottom lip and his eyes light up. “I’ve been brought up to the pros.”
“Congrats, man,” Cash says. “When did you find out?”
“About a month ago. After Ben Darby was injured during playoffs. The Tornadoes offered to pull me up to replace him next season.”
“I heard about Darby,” he says slowly, and runs his hand along the back of his neck. “What happened to him is terrible. I can’t believe that hit from behind broke his back.”
“Yeah. He’s lucky he’s not paralyzed,” Louis says.
“But now Louis finally gets a chance in the pros,” Lyndsey pipes up. She looks over at him and rests her hand on his thigh. “You’re going to be a super star, babe.” She kisses his cheek.
“I don’t know about that,” Louis blushes. “But I’m going to work hard and hopefully it gets noticed.”
“Louis, you’re a great hockey player,” Cash tells him. “You’ll get noticed.”
“I hope so.”
Lyndsey straightens up. “And I’m moving with him to Santa Anna.”
I laugh. “Wow. This is serious.”
“He’s the peanut butter to my jelly.”
Louis leans over and kisses her cheek. I love that they are so ridiculously in love. I’m so happy she’s met her match.
“And continuing on the topic of hockey…” Lyndsey pauses for a beat. “Hockey Times Magazine contacted me.”
“About what?”
“The four of us doing an interview,” she says nonchalantly.
I swallow down my food. “Why would they want that?”
“They want to write about hockey legend Hilton Ashby’s daughters dating two professional hockey players. Especially since Cash’s exodus from the Tornadoes and of course his recovery post-rehab. And then with Louis recently signing on with the Tornadoes, there is a lot to cover. The lady who contacted me— her name is Jane—said we’d get a full page spread and tons of media coverage.”
I try not to react so Lyndsey won’t detect the judgment all over my face. My first instinct is to protect Cash from any type of media coverage that might exploit him. He’s trying hard to rebuild his professional reputation, and I don’t want to be part of anything that could destroy it.
“No,” I say.
“Quinn! Come on!” Lyndsey whines. “The entire world knows about you two. Why not?”
“Because Cash is working hard to stay out of the media right now. I don’t trust reporters to portray him in a positive light.”
“That’s why I have a publicist,” Cash reminds me. “It’s their job to deal with what can and can’t be asked by the media and to protect me from being exploited. I know you care, Mittens.�
�� He drapes his arm along the back of my chair with a smile.
“Does Dad know about this?” I ask.
“I mentioned it to him in passing, and he seemed okay with it,” she says. “I’m pretty sure after he found out about you and Cash, nothing fazes him anymore.”
I frown. “No one needs to know our business any more than they already do.”
“It would help promote Louis’s major league hockey career. And it could help spin Cash’s reputation from ice-goon alcoholic to a successfully recovering sweetheart.” She winks at Cash.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Mittens,” Cash says. “I mean; positive media coverage would be nice for a change. And I’d get to reiterate to the world that you’re my girl.”
“Exactly.” Lyndsey smiles and then reaches across the table and holds my hand. “Please, Quinn?”
I look around the table at the three of them. Lyndsey pleading, Louis laughing, and Cash giving me another wink.
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Yay!” she squeals. “I’m calling her back right now. She’ll book her flight and be in Boston by tomorrow.”
Chapter 22
Quinn
The weekend comes crashing in with a summer storm and a sky full of heavy rain clouds and lighting sheets. I run beneath my umbrella with Bexley leashed at my side to the subway station and barely make my 5:05 train. For once, there is a seat open, and I drop into it. I wrap up my umbrella, put Bexley on my lap, and close my eyes to think about everything I was able to get done today. Thrift store shopping, shipping off a bunch of jewelry orders, lunch with Nadia, and then puppy training school with Bexley. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this productive.
By six I’m home, thrilled to peel off my wet clothes, and even more thrilled at the idea of having a hot shower with Cash before dinner. We haven’t had much alone time lately. From Lyndsey and Louis’s week-long visit to the past month being consumed with Cash’s hockey training, my jewelry business, and taking care of Bexley, we haven’t had much time for us. It’s nice to be home after another busy day.
“Bexley!” Cash shouts from the kitchen, and she goes running to him with her tail wagging. “How are my girls?” he asks, as I take off my jacket and hang it up.
“Good. Tired,” I say, noticing Cash’s hockey duffle bag at the front door.
“How was puppy training school?” he asks.
“She’s getting better. Right Bexley?” I look up to see Cash walking toward me. I glare at his Under Armour jacket, shorts and t-shirt, hoping he can feel the burn of my eyes on his attire. Is he headed out to hockey training again?
“I made a chicken stir-fry if you’re hungry.” He leans forward and greets me with a kiss.
“I thought you were cancelling your ice time tonight?”
“Yeah, I was going to…” His voice trails off.
I pout. “You haven’t taken a day off from hockey training since Lyndsey and Louis were here. I thought we were going to watch a movie and cuddle in bed. The weather is terrible outside. It’s a perfect night to stay in.”
He studies me for a beat and then murmurs, “I know, Mittens, but I’m determined to get where I need to be before the season starts, and I don’t feel like I’m there just yet. And my trainer couldn’t switch my session to this afternoon.” He takes a step forward and cups my face with his hands. “I won’t be home too late, and I promise we can have our movie and cuddle session tomorrow night.”
I shake my head and sigh. “Alright.” I know he’s working really hard to stay clean and get ready for next season. All I have to do is look at his face to know he hasn’t been drinking. I’m super proud of his commitment and determination. I kiss the tip of his nose and look down to see Bexley looking up at us. “Looks like it’s only me and you tonight, Bexley.”
I flop down on the couch, and Cash flops down beside me with a smile.
“Did you see the article? The magazine came out today. You look stunning in the photo,” he says and hands me the magazine.
The picture of the four of us is totally Photoshopped. I’m not complaining though. My skin never looked so good, and Cash’s muscles are super defined.
I skim through the article as Cash continues. “The piece on us comes across on paper like we are some sort of celebrity power couple.” He laughs to himself. “Unlike the piece on Lyndsey and Louis’s relationship. It’s definitely is a little more relatable, and it captures their playfulness perfectly. They also did a pretty good job of promoting your jewelry business, and they put a really positive spin on my new lifestyle and hockey career too.”
“Yeah, the article is great. This picture of the four of us is frame-worthy.” Laughing a little, I admit, “I’m glad Lyndsey talked me into it. I was skeptical, but this turned out to be really good for your new public image. You’re such a good boy now.” I wink at him.
“Not in bed.” He laughs softly, kissing my neck.
I moan at the feel of his lips against my skin.
He pulls away with a smirk. “I better get going. I don’t want to be late.”
Two can play this game.
“I’ll see you later tonight then.” I reach inside his jacket, taking a moment to run my hand over the hard lines of his chest before pulling his phone from his inside pocket. I snap a picture of my cleavage. I can sense his amused smile without even looking up at his face. I slip his phone back in his pocket, turn, and walk away, feeling his eyes on my backside. “Have a good practice.”
I hear Cash growl in frustration and close the door behind him. Two minutes later my phone buzzes in my purse.
When I get home, I’m going to pin you to the wall and have my way with you and those fantastic tits. Think I can make you scream? Twice?
___________
After a quick shower, I slip into my comfiest pajamas, light a bunch of candles, make a pot of tea, flop down on the sofa, and turn on the television. Bexley jumps up on the sofa beside me, tail wagging, and licks my face. I pet her head to calm her down as she cozies up next to me. Eventually I find some Modern Family re-runs and drink my tea in peace. Halfway into the episode, my phone buzzes with another text from Cash. I didn’t respond to his first text on purpose. I know how much he hates/loves it when I tease him with my lady parts before he leaves the house.
You’re in big trouble when I get home, Mittens ;)
It drives him crazy. He’s probably desperate to finish practice. As soon as he walks through our door he will be all over me. Which of course, I want badly.
I purposely don’t respond again, and take a sip of my tea with a smirk.
A hard knock at the door startles me, and Bexley goes crazy, barking. Could it be Cash? Did he actually ditch practice to come home and have his way with me? Obviously…who else it would be this late at night? A smile breaks on my face as I get up from the sofa and giddily half-skip half -walk to the door.
“Hello,” I say in a sing-song voice and pull open the front door. My smile quickly dissolves when a tall and thin shadow steps into the foyer. I step back, heart pounding. Her perky breasts, the same strawberry blonde hair . . . what the hell is she doing here?
“Daniela?” I lift my eyes to meet hers. The smile on my face disappears.
Her sopping wet hair is plastered to the side of her snide, yet pretty face. She’s wearing a black hooded sweater, dark-wash jeans, and Converse sneakers. Mascara streaks down her cheeks, and I’m not sure of it’s from the rain or tears. She’s breathing heavily as she stares me down. I can’t breathe.
“Where’s Cash?” She pushes past me into the foyer. She’s clearly furious and on a mission. Her barging into our home is not okay.
“He’s not here.” I spin around and grab her elbow, stopping her in mid-step. “Can I help you?”
“Quinn, right?” Daniela asks, as if she didn’t already know my name. “How does it feel knowing you’re the reason my life is completely ruined?”
I try to keep my face impassive. “Daniela, I—”<
br />
“You what? You’re a home wrecking whore. And because you can’t keep your legs closed I’m going to be deported.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she says, and the hurt and betrayal flashing in her eyes cuts into me like a dull blade. “D-E-P-O-R-T-E-D.”
I fight a pang of uneasiness as we stare each other down. I don’t like being alone with her in our empty house. I wish Cash were here. My phone is on the coffee table in the living room, and I don’t want her taking another step into our home. She seems unhinged, but that isn’t what’s making me apprehensive. It’s the intensity Daniela is radiating. It’s like she going to snap, and it worries me that she doesn’t know how to contain herself.
“Cash’s address in Bexley was my permanent address with US Immigration. Once the divorced was finalized, they got wind I had a separate address in Las Vegas and I hadn’t submitted my change of address, which apparently you must submit within ten days or you get deported.” Her chest heaves up and down. “It’s all his fault I’m in the fucking mess. Now where is he?”
Her intensity is scary enough, but as I watch the tears tumble down her cheeks, I can’t control the ball of dread that lodges in my throat. Fuck. I have a very, very bad feeling about her mental state. There’s no doubt in my mind that Daniela is desperate and frightened and vengeful. A part of me doesn’t care, because she’s legally not tied to Cash anymore, but the other part of me feels sorry for her. The knot in my stomach tightens.
I’m going to try to talk her down, but keeping my tone and words emotionless isn’t going to be easy. Why did Cash have to go to practice tonight?
“First of all, you and Cash had an agreement. Not a marriage,” I remind her, carefully. “He married you because he loved his brother and you were the only thing close to family he had left. You used him to get yourself into the United States and have some sort of dancing career while you drained his bank account and manipulated him into doing everything for you to the point where he neglected himself of finding real love. And now I think you should go—”