by Sarah Hegger
Eyes glued on Sam’s ass, Jane smirked. “I’ve suddenly developed a taste for roast chicken.”
Elizabeth wanted to smack her. “Won’t your friends be waiting for you?”
“So?” Jane shrugged and stared after Sam.
That! That right there was how everything went to shit when Sam was around.
“Sam,” Dad yelled. “You’re missing the game.”
“Coming, Paul.” Sam reappeared and took the wine bottle from her.
Still clutching the flowers, Elizabeth followed him. She should throw the stupid flowers away. Sam needn’t think he could barge his way in, and all would be forgiven because he brought flowers.
They were pretty, though. Irises, her favorite. It wasn’t their fault Sam had brought them. Elizabeth hunted for a vase under the sink.
A cork popped and Sam poured a glass of wine. He put it on the table. “For you.”
“Thank you.” Damn it, but between the flowers and the wine, she didn’t want to kill him quite so much anymore.
He took an appreciative sniff. “What are we having?”
“Chicken.” She concentrated on putting the flowers in a vase.
Sidling close enough that she could smell his fresh, crisp aftershave he whispered, “With those roast potatoes you make?”
“Stop it.” Elizabeth clung to the disappearing tendrils of her anger. “Don’t come in here and be all charming. I’m mad at you.”
“I know.” He grimaced. “And I’m trying to make you unmad.” He shrugged, innocent and harmless, and aw-shucks-don’t-hate-me. “I seem to make you mad a lot.”
“You were mean to those children.” She sidestepped him and grabbed her glass of wine. “This is not about me. It’s about them.”
“I’ll make it up to them.” He followed her.
When he wasn’t around, she always forgot how tall he was, and how broad. “How?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He shrugged. “But I’ll think of something.”
“Sam,” Dad yelled. “What are you doing in there?”
“Talking to Lizzie.”
“Why?”
Sam swore and dropped his head. Then he called back, “I like talking to Elizabeth.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, but she did appreciate him standing up for her.
“Actually I do.” Sam clinked his beer bottle against her wine. “When we’re not bickering.”
Elizabeth couldn’t hold back a snort. “And when would that be?”
“Granted, not often.” He grinned.
She found herself grinning back, but she didn’t care, and she sipped her wine. It hit her palate in a burst of blackberry richness. “This is good.”
“Tim at the LCBO said it was your favorite.”
It was hard to stay mad when he did things like that. But she managed a theatrical groan. “Now everyone will be talking about you buying me wine.”
“Pretty sure that horse has bolted.” He sipped his beer. Sam’s mouth was almost girly in the uncompromising harshness of his other features. “What with the internet pictures and all.”
“Why did you come back, Sam?” Liz dug a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer.
Sam pulled a face. “I was a dick.” He held up a hand before she could respond. “First with the kids and then with you. I’m sorry.”
“Sam.” Dad sounded agonized. “You’re missing the whole game.”
“You better go.” Elizabeth motioned the lounge. “We can talk about this later.”
“Let’s talk about it now instead.” Sam grabbed her hand. “Tell me what I gotta do to make this right?”
She really wanted to stay mad, but he was sincere, and she knew him well enough to know that. “I’ll let you know.”
“You do that.” Sam refilled her wineglass and nodded at the peas. “Are you going to do that cream and butter thing you do with those?”
* * * *
With Sam at the table, Elizabeth had no trouble getting Dad and Jane there.
Jane wedged herself in the seat next to Sam and made eyes at him from beneath layers of black eyeliner.
Looking mildly uncomfortable, Sam kept his distance from her.
Dad sat at the table head and beamed at Sam. “How’s the suspension treating you?”
Elizabeth caught the slight tensing in Sam at the mention of his suspension.
“As good as can be expected,” Sam said and helped himself to peas.
Yes, she had done the thing with the cream and butter for him, but only because she liked it too.
Jane picked at a roast potato.
Cooking for Sam was never a hardship, because he always ate what she put in front of him and enjoyed it.
“Where’s the carrots?” Dad glared at the table.
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth said, “I didn’t make them today. I made the peas instead.”
Dad looked thunderous.
“That Sam likes,” she added before Dad said anything more.
Across the table Sam raised an eyebrow.
She pulled a face at him.
Drenching his chicken in gravy, Dad shook his head. “Completely bullshit call on that hit, by the way. I watched the entire thing and it was crap.”
“Thanks for the support, Paul.” Shoulders tense, Sam kept his eyes on his plate. “But I’ve got the reputation I earned and that makes calls like that inevitable.”
Elizabeth took pity on him and changed the subject. “Any word on the bus?”
“Tomorrow.” Sam’s smile lost its restraint. “I forgot to tell you in all the earlier excitement, but they’re delivering it tomorrow.”
“What bus?” Dad’s gaze snapped between them. He hated being left out of any conversation with Sam.
“Sam bought a new bus for Mountain Vista,” she said. “The old one gave up the ghost a few months ago and now the residents can’t get to their classes or their weekly grocery shop.”
“Jesus!” Jane rolled her eyes. “Only you would care about a bunch of old people. Where could they possibly want to go anyway?”
“They’re old, not dead,” Elizabeth said. Even for Jane that was crossing the line. “They’ve worked hard all their lives, and now they deserve a bit of consideration.”
“Whatever.” Jane pulled her phone out.
Elizabeth had to try. “Not at the table, Jane.”
“Says who?” Jane snorted.
“Dad?” Appealing to her dad was likely to be a waste, but she’d cooked their meal and it was supposed to bring all of them together.
“Eh?” Dad frowned at her.
Elizabeth motioned Jane. “I think we should put our phones down at the table.”
He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Who cares?”
Mom had cared. Elizabeth clenched her jaw before she blurted it out. Mom had cared and she cared.
Across the table, Sam’s expression softened as if he might say something.
“Bet the team is champing to have you back.” Like a scud missile, Dad went right back to his target. None of Sam’s discomfort registered with him. “Of course they do. Not the same without you.”
Nodding politely to Dad, Sam turned back to her. His eyes twinkled at her across the table and Elizabeth braced.
“I had them paint a decal of me down the sides,” he said. “A montage of me in action.”
“Hell yeah!” Dad thumped the table. “That’s the ticket, right there. This town doesn’t do enough to recognize our greatest resident.”
Sam gave a tiny wince.
“Maybe we should have a statue of Sam erected in Brock Park.” Elizabeth couldn’t resist. “Something that captures the spirit of Sam Stone the hockey player.”
Sam Stone the hockey player raised an eyebrow at her and dared her to go there.
With pleasure, and Elizabeth beamed at him. “You know, with his gloves off, punching the crap out of someone.”
“Elizabeth!” Dad jabbed his forefinger at her. “You don’t understand hockey,
and your ignorance doesn’t give you a free pass to make asinine, insulting statements.”
Even when they were kids, Dad had rushed to defend Sam.
“Seriously, Paul, it’s okay.” Sam’s voice held an edge of irritation. “Liz rags on me all the time and I rag on her. It’s what we do.”
Dad forced a chuckle, but his gaze still shot daggers her way. “So long as the ragging doesn’t turn bitchy. I’ve told both my girls. I won’t tolerate a bitch in this house.”
“Wow!” Jane rolled her eyes at her phone. “Toxic masculinity at work.”
“Watch your mouth, missy.” Dad turned on Jane.
Probably only because he was trying to impress Sam with his paternal prowess.
Jane didn’t give a crap and the look she gave Dad screamed that. “Or what? You gonna keep making me feel like shit until I walk out that door? Like you did to Mom?”
“So.” Sam raised his voice. “What do you think of the Pumas this season, Paul? Their D could do with some work.”
Since Mom had left, Elizabeth had been making Saturday dinners, trying to keep her shattered family together. Why exactly she’d decided to take that on, she couldn’t fathom.
Dinner dragged on with Dad holding forth on every team in the league, Jane doing her best to either piss him off or get Sam’s attention, and Sam looking like he wished he’d made a different decision on coming over.
When it was over, Jane bolted for the door, and Dad went to watch hockey.
Elizabeth cleared the dishes and loaded the dishwasher.
“Here.” Sam handed her glass of wine. “You need this.”
After that dinner, she certainly did. “Leave the bottle.”
Chuckling, he cleared more dishes from the table and brought them to her. “Man.” Shaking his head, he propped his hips next to the dishwasher as she loaded. “When your mom was here, she kept the worst of it under control.”
“Yeah, she did.” A wave of longing smacked into her. Without Mom, it had degenerated into a house full people who didn’t like each other. “She was the glue that held us all together.”
Chapter 13
Elizabeth lost it when she saw her bus. Technically the bus for Mountain Vista, but she had an emotional investment in it.
It was big, black and sparkly new. It even had that new car smell. And no decals of Sam down the side. She almost didn’t want to touch it in case it disappeared. “It’s perfect.”
“See.” Sam wasn’t having the same hesitation as he showed it to Carol in the parking lot of Mountain Vista. “It’s got a hydraulic lift here, and a tie down area that can take three wheelchairs.”
Carol beamed at him. “It’s perfect, Sam. More than perfect.”
Elizabeth would see a lot better if her eyes stopped their damn leaking.
“And it’s got seating for at least fifteen people.” Sam jumped into the bus. He reached out and helped Carol into the bus.
Elizabeth kept on nodding as he went through the features of the bus. It was so much more than she’d asked for, and it would make such a difference to so many lives.
“So?” Sam popped up in front of her. “You like?”
More nodding because she couldn’t get words past the lump in her throat.
“Lizzie?” Sam bent his knees and looked into her eyes. “These are happy tears?”
She sniffed and nodded.
“Good.” Sam pulled her into a spice-scented hug, his body hard and strong against hers, and Elizabeth got a bit lightheaded.
Her arms tightened around his slim waist and she pushed her face into his neck. Because of the bus. The bus and nothing else.
Behind Sam, Carol raised her brow. Yeah, she didn’t believe it either.
* * * *
Sam hadn’t reached out to any of his teammates since he’d left Ottawa that crappy night. He did now and Luke Riggs, a senior defenceman on the team, along with veteran goalie Guy Pelletier surprised him by offering to come down and see him.
They made plans to work out in the gym Sam had installed in Mom’s basement. He suspected he might be the only person who ever used it.
He opened the door to Riggs sporting a black eye and Guy looking tired.
“Stoner.” Riggs pulled him into a man-hug. “You look better than you deserve to.”
“And you look like shit.” Along with that black eye Riggs had a split lip and another bruise along his jaw. He also favored his left leg.
Riggs pulled a face and pushed a hand through his shoulder-length blond hair. “Yeah, well you left me to keep those young dicks in line. And we got our asses handed to us last night by the Raps.”
“That’s on me.” Guy followed Riggs in and shook Sam’s hand. “Yeah, last night I let five in.”
“Not your fault, Trapper.” Riggs clapped Guy on the back. “If the offence doesn’t generate goals and our D gets sloppy, that isn’t on you.”
The Raptors were old rivals and the games always got chippy.
Sam handed them a water and they hit the gym. “Hamstring bothering you?”
“Yeah. Took a bad hit last night.” Riggs had a recurring injury that flared up from time to time.
Hell, they all had recurring injuries that flared up from time to time. The longer you stayed in the game, the more of those you racked up.
“Couple of the boys say hello.” Guy rattled off the names of a few teammates. Mostly older players like them, men who’d been in the league long enough to have the cocky ground out of them.
As they worked out, they caught him up on all the gossip. The rookie goalie was looking good, nipping at Guy’s heels to take his place, but Guy had been playing this game for too many years to let that faze him. Management had their eye on a prospect out of Finland, a center with a wicked shot and a sixth sense for the puck.
“What about you?” Riggs took a swig of water. “Rumor had it you got yourself settled with a nice girl down here.”
“Elizabeth?” He played it cool. “Yeah, she’s just a friend.”
Riggs didn’t look convinced and Sam hid a grin at how Lizzie would have reacted to their interchange.
“I’ve been doing some stuff around the community,” he said. “Need to clean up my image and I like it. The people around here have always supported me. I owe them a bit of my time and effort.”
His phone rang and he checked caller ID and then picked up. “Hey, Lizzie. We were just talking about you.”
Riggs went back to working out.
Guy made no pretense of not watching him and listening to the call.
Down the line, Elizabeth sniffled. “Sam.” She caressed his name in a way that felt like a velvet glove up his spine. “The Mountain Vista residents took the bus for a movie outing. They loved it so much.” She gave a little sob. “I sent you some pictures.”
“Damn.” He couldn’t stop his big grin. He’d made her so happy she was getting all weepy. Lizzie did that when she got emotional. “Imagine how happy they would have been if I could’ve gotten some decals on it.”
“Oh, Sam.” She giggled. He liked that better than her weepy. “They keep going for drives around the block. Every time a new person sees it, they all load back up again and take it for another spin. Cameron won’t let anyone else drive it.”
He could picture the scene and it made him grin wider.
Riggs had joined Guy and they shared a look and then went back to gaping at him.
“Tell the old fart not to crash it,” he said to Elizabeth.
“I will.” She gave a breathy little laugh. “And thank you, Sam. It’s perfect.”
As soon as he put the phone down, Riggs pounced. “And this is the girl who is just your friend?”
Guy shook his head. “Man, if I met a girl who put a stupid grin on my face like you’re wearing, I’d either run from her or marry her.”
Chapter 14
Sam didn’t exactly hide behind Liz as they made their way to the ice the next Saturday, but he did let her take the lead.
; Picking where she put her feet, Maddy followed them, iPhone at the ready to capture the moment.
He hadn’t seen Lizzie for the remainder of the week, although she did blow up his phone with pictures of the bus. On one she even drew stick figures that were meant to be the decals of him playing hockey down the side of the bus.
Damn she made him laugh. Not a lot of people saw the quirky in Lizzie, or that flash fire temper that showed up around him.
“Did you tell Chris I was coming?” Ahead of them, the kids clustered on the ice around Chris.
Maddy gripped his shoulder to keep her balance. “I’m sure they’ll be very happy to see you.”
Even Maddy didn’t sound all that certain and he grabbed Liz’s elbow. “Chris does know?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I may have mentioned it. And do you mind? Personal space bubble.”
Lizzie smelled good too. Not of perfume like Maddy, but the light scent of something flowery and soapy.
He carried her bag and his, in which he concealed part of his recovery strategy. “Did Chris say it was okay?”
“Not exactly,” Lizzie said. “Wait here.”
Sam stood there, stupefied, as she trotted through the stands to the ice. Not exactly was not at all the answer he’d been looking for.
She got there and spoke to Chris.
Chris whirled, pinned him with a look and scowled. “No.”
“Chris will come around.” Maddy made it sound like a dearly held wish.
Dragging his attention away from Chris and Liz, he stared at Maddy.
Maddy’s chocolatey gaze stuck on Chris, the longing on her face unmistakable.
It took him a moment and then he got it.
Chris and Maddy. He liked it.
Liz gestured emphatically as she whispered something else to Chris.
“I don’t care.” Chris raised her hands to her sides.
Leaning in, Lizzie spoke again.
Chris opened her mouth, huffed and then frowned. She glanced at the kids. Finally, she looked at him. “All new sticks, all new pads, and all new skates.”
“Done!” Relief surged through him and he jumped down the remaining stairs to the ice.
Maddy gasped. “That’s a lot. You should ask one of your sponsors.”