by Toni Aleo
Even so, Indigo had been asked to join a group of the guys after hours at a bar near the car barn where the cable cars were stored overnight. Indigo had three brothers and was well able to hold her own when outnumbered by men. She’d told Bailey all she had to do was stand up to them, but so far Bailey had been too intimidated to do more than suffer in silence.
Not today though.
This Monday morning, Bailey was assigned to California Street Cable Car 54. All the cars were still festooned with garland and ornaments for Christmas and would be until the end of the year.
Bernard, a six foot-three, one hundred eighty five pound African-American grip man, pretended to sing discordant Chinese music under his breath. In addition to the jabs about her gender, she also endured teasing about her race. She had hoped she’d left behind this kind of behavior in grade school, but apparently not. She was routinely called Peng Pong and asked questions like how much rice she ate in a year.
“You’re not funny,” she said over her shoulder.
“I’m just singing,” Bernard said.
There was some low male laughter.
She usually just ignored the bullies, thinking that the best course of action, but she was still feeling out of sorts. Despite her intention to stay pragmatic about the Gideon situation, she’d harbored a secret, impossible hope that he would, like the prince in the fairy tale, show up having looked high and low for her. But since it was more than a week since the party, that hope had finally died and she was left feeling angry at herself for even thinking things might turn out otherwise. As a result, she was in no mood to deal with Bernard’s childish bullshit.
“My ass, you’re just singing,” she said, turning to face him. “What song is that?”
Bernard laughed. “It’s the I Can Barely See Out of My Tiny Little Eyes Song.”
More male laughter echoed in the large warehouse. Indigo was walking toward her, looking like she was ready for battle.
“You know what’s a better song?” Bailey asked, her heart pounding. “The Hey, Mufasa, Suck My Dick Song.”
Except for the ceaseless rumble of the underground moving cables, a shocked silence swept through the barn. Bailey could barely breathe. She knew Bernard wouldn’t resort to violence, but she was scheduled to work with the man for the next eight hours and he had years of seniority over her. Would the Good Old Boys band together to shun her even more than she was already being shunned?
She heard Indigo’s amused chortle first followed quickly after by some applause and a much louder burst of laughter from what seemed like everyone in the barn.
Everyone but Bernard.
“Did you call me Mufasa?” Bernard asked.
Bailey stood her ground and had to look up to meet Bernard’s gaze. “Yes, I did.”
“That is fucking hilarious,” he said, letting some belly-deep guffaws out as he clapped Bailey on the shoulder. “That is fucking hilarious. Wasn’t that the daddy in The Lion King?”
“Sure was,” someone said.
“I like that. He was a good guy, that Mufasa.”
Bernard got onto the car and began his safety check while Indigo gave her a quick hug.
“That was awesome, sister,” Indigo said. “I’m so proud of you. Now that you showed him you weren’t going to take his shit anymore, just watch. They’re all going to let up on you because they respect you now.”
“God, I hope so. I’m shaking so hard, Indi.”
“Just take deep breaths and stand here for a sec. It’ll pass.”
When Bailey felt calmer, she hugged Indigo one more time and boarded the car. Bernard glanced over and gave her a nod, and for the first time since she started her job two months ago, she felt eager to begin her shift.
The very next day, Bailey was paired up with Bernard again, this time for a night shift. Indigo had been right; the entire crew was treating her differently and they even asked her to join them at happy hour.
She was giving a German man his change when a deep voice called out, “Will this car take me to Aspen and Willow?”
Gasping, Bailey spun around to see Gideon on the street. She blinked hard, not trusting her own eyes. The sight of him in a knit cap, a thick sweater and jeans took her breath away.
“What the…?” she stammered. “What are you doing here?”
Smiling, Gideon hopped onto the car and made his way to where she was standing on the back of the car, outside of the cabin.
“I’m riding the cable car. I hear it’s the thing to do here in San Francisco.”
He stood so close to her that she had to look up to see his face. There wasn’t much light, but the warmth in his deep-set brown eyes wrapped itself around her. Too bad she was wearing what had to be the world’s most unflattering outfit—baggy brown pants, a long-sleeved brown shirt, utilitarian black shoes and a neon green reflective safety vest.
“Um, you need to buy a ticket.”
He pulled out a ten and handed it to her. She tried to give him his change, but he refused it.
“Do you have any idea how hard you are to find?” he asked, giving her a quick hug. “Why did you leave that night without saying goodbye?”
Still reeling from his surprise appearance, she tried to organize her scattered thoughts. Thankfully, Bernard stood in the front of the car where he had to keep his eyes on the traffic.
Gideon was here. On her cable car. He seemed happy to see her, but did that really mean anything? He was still the unattainable, uber-sexy NHL player, and she was just a lowly public transportation worker. To entertain the possibility that she could be more to him than a one-night stand was unrealistic, not to mention stupid.
She lifted her chin. “I was just avoiding an awkward goodbye. I mean, you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
Gideon scowled. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a low, almost angry voice. “You think all I wanted was sex?”
She frowned. “Of course I do. I’m not some naïve kid. I knew going in it was a one time thing and I’m honestly fine with that.”
“Well, I’m not,” he said. “I thought we had something going, Bailey. I thought we made a connection.”
“We did and then I went my way and you went yours.”
Clang clang!
The car stopped and four passengers boarded. As Bailey took their tickets, Gideon stood there, obviously impatient for them to start moving again so they could continue their conversation.
“Well just so you know, when I couldn’t find you, I thought something had happened to you or that you had some kind of family emergency. So thanks for that.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I honestly didn’t think of that. I thought you’d just be, well, relieved.”
“Bailey, I was anything but. I was worried and sadder than I’ve been in a long time.” He cupped her cheeks and his hands were warm from his pockets. “I didn’t know your last name or your phone number or anything that would help me find you. It wasn’t until Dakota told me that you were a cable car conductor that I had the slightest clue. I thought I was never going to see you again.”
As the cable pulled the car up Hyde Street, he took her into his arms. His strong embrace felt so good, so right. The chill of the night air had her leaning into his warmth, inhaling the smell of his skin, and even though she was working and some of the passengers were looking at her, she pressed her cheek against his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat smoothed over the thorny defenses she’d hastily erected.
Maybe he wasn’t one of those clichéd pro athletes who played hard and partied harder. Maybe those few precious hours they’d spent together had affected him as much as they’d affected her. Could that be possible? Could it?
Anything’s possible, said a voice in her head. Especially for the girl who stood up to Bernard. Open your eyes, woman. The man of your dreams is right here. Are you really going to push him away?
Concern creased his forehead as he gazed down at her. What if she took him at his word? What was she ri
sking? A loss of face? Was that so horrible? No. All she had to do was keep her expectations low and take it one baby step at a time. As long as she didn’t start dreaming of a big fat hockey wedding, she’d be fine.
“Just so you know,” Gideon said, brushing his lips against her hair, “I am not leaving this cable car until I have one or all of the following three things. One, your last name.”
“It’s Peng. Bailey Peng,” she said, feeling less anxious and more cheerful by the moment.
“Perfect. I also need your phone number. Not leaving until I get that either.”
She told him and he smiled, relief easing the tension in his handsome face.
“What’s the third thing?” she asked.
“Your promise that you won’t make assumptions about me anymore. Judge me by what I do and not by what you think you know. Okay? Give me an honest chance. That’s all I ask. Can you do that? Please?”
Bailey couldn’t figure out what she could possibly have done to deserve this incredible man’s attention, but here he was declaring without a doubt that he wanted to continue seeing her. Her. A nobody that not even her own family cared for very much.
“As long as you promise me the same thing,” she said, thinking of her stepmother and the dragon-sized fit she was going to throw if she and Gideon got serious.
He smiled at her, his eyes lighting up with same happiness that was blossoming inside her heart. “That’s a deal.”
“Kiss the girl,” a voice called out, breaking the spell.
Suddenly, Bailey remembered where they were. The cable car had stopped and most of the passengers were watching, breathless with anticipation. Even Bernard had turned to look.
“Go on, kiss her!” Bernard said testily. “I got a schedule to keep.”
She turned to Gideon whose eyes were twinkling with amusement.
“I guess you’d better kiss me,” she said, unable to keep from smiling.
Gideon gave a low chuckle. “It would literally be my pleasure, Bailey Peng.”
In a moment she knew she’d remember forever, Gideon lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers in a warm, tender kiss. Was he the one? She didn’t know, but as the entire cable car erupted in applause and cheers, her life seemed full of joyous possibility.
The End
To be notified when the rest of Bailey and Gideon’s story comes out, subscribe to Kate Willoughby’s newsletter at KateWilloughbyAuthor.com
Books by Kate Willoughby
San Francisco Dragons Series
Clean Sweep (San Francisco Dragons 1)
In the Zone Series
On the Surface (In the Zone 1)
Across the Line (In the Zone 2)
On the Brink (In the Zone 2.5)
Out of the Game (In the Zone 3)
Under the Spotlight (In the Zone 4)
Hockey on Tap Series
Falling for Flynn (Hockey on Tap 1)
Crazy for Cole (Hockey on Tap 2)
Seduced by Slater (Hockey on Tap 3) - Coming Soon
Be-Wished Series
Once Upon a Fling (Be-Wished 1)
Once Upon a Wolf (Be-Wished 2)
Once Upon a Kiss (Be-Wished 3)
Once Upon a Hero (Be-Wished 4)
About Kate Willoughby
Kate is in love with the sport of hockey. And the entire Los Angeles Kings team. Having lived most of her life completely uninterested in professional sports, she is surprised at the intensity of her enthusiasm and her growing collection of Kings merchandise. She resides in Los Angeles with her husband, their two sons, and a Chihuahua named Mochi.
She is also a member of the Romance Writers of America, Los Angeles Romance Authors, and Santa Clarita Romance Writers, and winner of the 2009 EPPIE Award for Best Fantasy/Paranormal Erotic Romance and the 2016 EPPIE Award for Best Contemporary Romance.
[email protected] | Website
Stephanie Kay - All I Want
San Francisco Strikers holiday novella
When fate brings first loves Maggie and Alex back to the same city, will Maggie be brave enough to give the relationship she never forgot a second chance?
To second chances and finding love under the mistletoe.
Chapter One
“Maggie? What? How?” Alex Westbrook sputtered as the door to his Westie’s Warriors suite in the Strikers’ arena closed behind him, and he stared at the woman he hadn’t seen in longer than he could remember. No. That was a lie. It’d been four years and seven months, give or take a day. Not that he was counting.
“Hi,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, barely meeting his gaze.
He didn’t miss her nervousness or the fact that she was not surprised to see him. Five years since he’d tucked her hair behind her ear. It still looked as soft as he remembered. His fingers shouldn’t itch to see if his memory held true.
“Hey, Westie. You know Dr. Maggie?” a voice called out, and Alex looked down at Henry.
The kid shot him a grin that rivaled any of Alex’s teammates for lack of teeth. At least the kid had a valid reason—he was six years old. Henry was always smiling, even after finishing up his second round of chemo, his hair resembling peach fuzz. Alex could learn a few things from his Warriors.
“Yes, we grew up together.” Her voice was soft, and it rolled over him. He’d missed her voice. Hell, he’d missed her.
“You did?” Henry asked, his gaze darting between them.
“Yeah, we did. I didn’t know you were a doctor at Children’s Hospital,” he said.
“I started my residency a few months ago,” she said, her dark eyes wide, waiting for his reaction.
Months. How had they never run into each other? Since creating Westie’s Warriors four years ago and partnering with the city’s children’s hospital to bring patients to his suite at the arena for all the Strikers’ home games, he spent a good portion of his time visiting the hospital and trying to help in any way he could. But he’d never seen her.
Why hadn’t she bothered to look him up when she’d arrived in San Francisco? Yes, she’d ended their relationship years ago, but before that, they’d been friends. His chest hurt, and he tamped down the urge to show any weakness. So that’s how much he’d meant to her.
He’d loved Maggie since the day he sat in the desk behind her in middle school. The girl had been his first kiss. His first everything.
“Yeah, Dr. Maggie is the best doctor,” Grayson, an eight-year-old battling Hodgkin’s lymphoma said. Alex crouched down to eye level.
“Really?”
“Yep.” Grayson leaned in. “But I don’t think she likes hockey. She said it’s her first game.”
Alex bit back his grin at Maggie’s squawk of denial.
“I happen to know that she likes hockey. She used to come to all of my games when I played for the AHL team near Chicago,” he said, glancing up at her. Her deep brown eyes glistened, and her cheeks pinked. He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms, not caring about the fact that they weren’t alone, or that he was angry that she hadn’t reached out to him, not once, since she’d ended it.
He pushed down the urge.
“Really, Dr. Maggie?” Henry asked.
Her laugh was soft, and it drummed up way too many memories.
“Yes. I said this is my first Strikers game.”
“Why? You know Westie. He can get you into all the games, I bet,” Henry said.
“All she had to do was ask,” Alex said.
“Umm, thanks. The hospital keeps me pretty busy…” she said, her gaze dropping to the floor as she shifted on her feet before looking up at him again.
“I bet,” he said, his eyes locking on hers. He noticed her indrawn breath, and he couldn’t help but look at her mouth. A mouth he remembered fondly. A mouth he craved to kiss again.
What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to pick an emotion and stick with it, and it should be anger and irritation that she was here, not the overwhelming urge to take her in his arms.
“Well, umm,” she murmured, and he shook his head.
“Yeah, I need to get back downstairs before Coach yells at me. You guys need anything? More snacks?” he asked, turning away from Maggie to address the room. Over a dozen kids and their parents filled the suite. He’d be back after the game to spend more time with them, but he always liked to check in with his guests before puck drop.
“No. And thank you again for inviting us, Westie,” Henry’s mom said, her hand on her son’s shoulder as she smiled up at Alex.
“Anytime,” he replied.
“I think you should get a hat trick tonight, Westie,” Grayson said.
He chuckled. “I’ll try my best.”
“Just kick some ass, Westie,” Henry piped in.
“Henry,” his mother gasped, shaking her head.
Alex said his goodbyes to the rest of the room, his gaze meeting Maggie’s. She’d escaped to the back corner to check on Arabella. He gave her a nod, not sure what else to say. She’d thrown him for a loop, and he did not need that right before a game.
He stepped into the hallway. Dammit. Now was not the time to think about those memories. He had a game to win, and all his focus had to be on the ice.
“Tripping,” the ref yelled, gesturing to Alex as one of Anaheim’s forwards pushed back to his feet.
“I barely touched the guy,” Alex grumbled before he looked toward the bench. Bugsy looked pissed and Alex didn’t blame him. They were down three to one and Anaheim’s power play was lethal.
“Come on, Allen practically skated into Westie,” Cheesy said, pointing to the replay on the jumbotron.
“Tripping. Minor penalty,” the ref said, before skating to the middle of the ice to make the official call.
“We’ll kill it, but what’s up with you? Your focus is off,” Cheesy said, skating over to the penalty box with Alex.