Down to Puck (Buffalo Tempest Hockey Book 2)

by Sylvia Pierce

  She sighed. It should’ve been perfection.

  “Hey,” Eva said gently. “What’s wrong?”

  Bex met her eyes across the table, trying to find the words to explain the uneasiness in her heart.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Henny—total opposite, actually. He was the only man she did trust, and she could easily see herself falling for him. Hard. But she was still reeling from her past mistakes. From rushing in, not seeing the signs, losing herself. And as much as she cared for Henny, she couldn’t deny that he was unpredictable, moody as hell, and saddled with his own baggage. There was a lot he hadn’t dealt with in his life, and it manifested in all sorts of ways he’d never admit; if she wanted proof, she didn’t have to look any deeper than his NHL discipline record or his reputation with the media. The so-called “Bad-Boy Bachelor of Buffalo” might not see the connection, but Bex knew his troubles hadn’t appeared out of nowhere.

  Sure, Eva had said he’d been playing well lately, joking around with the team, hamming it up for the media. Bex had noticed it, too. He seemed to be playing with a purpose now, skating away from fights, keeping things cool with his coach and management.

  But no one knew better than Bex that big changes could throw Henny completely off balance, and nothing was a bigger change in his world right now than his relationship with her.

  “Henny’s a little… all over the place,” Bex said. “You’ve seen it. These past few weeks aside, his game has been off for months. I wish I knew what was going on with him, but that’s the one thing he won’t talk about.”

  Eva’s eyes softened. “Honestly, I think he’s just adjusting to having you back in his life again. I wouldn’t be surprised if he feels responsible for you, especially after everything you went through in California.”

  “I know he does,” she said. “He thinks he could’ve saved me from all that, which is ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. He’s always been like that, though. You should’ve seen him in high school.”

  Eva smiled, shaking her head. “Scared off all your boyfriends, right?”

  “What boyfriends? He basically threatened all the guys long before they worked up the nerve to ask me out.” Bex rolled her eyes. “Everyone thought we were together anyway. Henny never bothered correcting them.”

  “Some things never change.” Eva sipped her wine. “When he first told us about you, one of the guys joked about asking you out. Henny almost bludgeoned him with a water bottle.”

  Bex laughed. “Such a charmer, my boy.”

  “And now you’re in the same city with that boy. Same bedroom. It’s bound to cause some upheaval for both of you—good and bad. It will level out.”

  “That’s the thing, Eva. I’m not sure I can wait for it to level out. And I definitely can’t handle the bad. Not right now.”

  “Come on, hon. Women are a lot tougher than we give ourselves credit for.”

  “Still doesn’t mean a relationship is a good idea.” Bex and Henny hadn’t even talked about what was happening between them. Hadn’t tried to define it or think too hard about the future. So far, they’d just been rolling with it, enjoying every moment as it came. “I’m not sure I’m even staying in Buffalo long-term, and Henny’s never been one to pin himself down. Not for anything.”

  “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that man wouldn’t do for you.”

  “That’s not the issue.” Bex’s eyes glazed with tears. Henny was the most loyal man she knew, and he’d never not shown up when she’d needed him. “He’s always looked out for me.”

  “Oh, it’s so much more than that, Bex. Looking out? He does that for Walker and the rest of the boys. Heck, he looks out for me and Gracie. You should’ve seen him on family skate night last year. Someone brought their kid’s friend—this smug little ten-year-old asshole who thought he owned the place. He nailed Gracie so hard she nearly face-planted, but Uncle Henny got to her quick, scooped her up just before she hit the ice. Then he and Walker chased the kid down and put the fear of God in him.”

  Bex cracked up. “I would’ve loved to see that.”

  “It was pretty amazing.” Eva smiled. “Gracie wouldn’t leave Henny’s side after that. And I may be biased, but I think my seven-year-old is an excellent judge of character.”

  “Well, she gave Walker the seal of approval, so she must be good.” Bex lowered her eyes, staring at the last bite of cheesecake. “Everything you’re saying… I get it. Henny is amazing. And yes, maybe there’s more than friendship here—a lot more. But there’s still so much we… I mean, he’s… and I’m…” Bex trailed off. How could she explain it to Eva when she hadn’t even been able to explain it to herself? With a sigh, she met Eva’s eyes again. “I just don’t think the timing is right.”

  “If you wait around for the perfect time, you’re liable to miss it altogether.” Eva grabbed her fork and speared the last bite of cheesecake, popping it into her mouth. “Case in point.”

  “How long have you been planning that?” Bex asked, laughing.

  “That was all improv, baby. Live in the now.”

  With dessert and wine finally finished, they settled the bill and headed outside to say their goodbyes. Eva would be heading down to South Carolina with the team in a few hours, and Bex needed to take care of some admin at the pub before she could see Henny off to the airport.

  “Thank you.” Bex hugged her friend. “I know it’s not easy trying to talk some sense into this thick head of mine.”

  “Takes one to know one.” Eva kissed Bex’s cheek, her eyes serious. “Listen, Bex. No one is telling you to rush into something you’re not ready for. And you and Henny certainly don’t need to define your relationship for me or anyone else. I just… I know what it feels like to be afraid, and I don’t want you to miss out on something that could change your life just because you’re a little scared.”

  Eva was right—Bex was scared, and that fear was holding her back. It was a typical response to her brain’s hyperloop of constant analysis, picking apart every good thing in her life and trying to predict all the possible ways it could implode.

  For once, maybe she could set all that aside. Stop waiting for the floor to drop out from beneath her and just let herself truly feel. Truly fall.

  After walking Eva to her car, Bex spotted a little souvenir shop across the street, one of those chintzy tourist traps that sold T-shirts and collectable plates painted with pictures of Niagara Falls and Buffalo-themed puzzles. She headed inside, curiosity getting the better of her.

  She hadn’t known what she was looking for until she saw it there, stacked on the half-price shelf with the other misfit gifts. The oversized mug was shaped like a bison—the city’s unofficial mascot—its tail curved into the handle, horns painted on the sides. It was the goofiest, cheesiest thing she’d ever seen—in other words, perfect. She picked out two of them, and when the clerk asked if she’d like them gift-wrapped, she accepted the offer with a smile.

  Nothing but the best for my man.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Fee?” Bex stepped inside the pub, blinking as her eyes adjusted from the bright afternoon light outside. The front door had been unlocked, but the place was dark and lifeless, not even a sappy rock ballad to greet her. “Fee, you here?”

  “Bathroom!” Fee shouted. “Get me the toolbox and as many towels as you can. Hurry!”

  Bex dropped her stuff inside the door and sprinted for the back office, grabbing the requested supplies. She found Fee on her knees in the bathroom, her upper body buried inside the cupboard under the sink, trying to hold back a deluge.

  A quarter inch of water already covered the bathroom floor, quickly seeping out toward the pool table. From the looks of things, Fee’s quick thinking and a few rags were all that separated a big mess from a total freaking disaster.

  “Holy shit!” Bex handed over the tools and some of the towels, then chased the rapidly-spreading puddle into the pool table room, dropping towels as she went. Fee had already cut the p
ower, but Bex unplugged the jukebox and electronic dart game just in case, tucking the cords up away from the floor.

  Back in the bathroom, Fee was getting to her feet. Black makeup streaked down her face, her dark hair plastered to her forehead. She looked like a drowned rat, poor girl.

  “Good timing,” Fee said, finally cracking a smile. “Any later and I might’ve been swept out to sea.”

  “No kidding! What happened?”

  “I was running late—just got here a few minutes ago. Not the warm welcome I’ve come to expect from my place of employ.” Fee grabbed the toolbox from the countertop and plodded out of the bathroom, her feet kicking a small wave over the threshold. “I think I stopped the bleeding for now, but that pipe is shot. I give it a week, maybe two before it goes again.”

  “I thought your uncle replaced the pipes. Twice.”

  “That was the toilet. This is the sink.” Fee wrung out her hair, adding a few more drops to the lake at their feet. “Pipes are all original in this place. We really need to gut the whole bathroom and start from scratch.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Bex pressed her fingers to her temples. She’d managed to save a little cash since moving back, and there was some emergency money in the bar account, but not enough for a remodel. Best they could afford was a patch job on the pipes and some new linoleum.

  “We can’t open like this,” Fee said.

  “Nope.” She grabbed her phone and sent a quick text to Nico, then one to Henny, swallowing her disappointment. There was no way she’d be able to get over there now. She’d have to wait until he got back tomorrow to give him his present.

  Until then, it was time to put on her big girl galoshes and get to work.

  “You get the mops,” Fee said, twisting her hair up into a knot. “I’ll get that jukebox hooked up again and pick our music montage.”

  “Montage?”

  “Every epic cleanup needs one, babe.”

  Ten minutes later, Bex was on her hands and knees in the bathroom with Fee, scrubbing to the beat of Missy Elliot’s “Work It.”

  “This is disgusting.” Fee plunged her rag back into the bucket of murky gray water.

  “Understatement.” Bex reached behind the toilet to mop up another puddle. Cleaning the bathroom on a Friday night wasn’t exactly her idea of a rocking good time, but she found herself smiling anyway. There was something deeply satisfying about investing elbow grease into a place she one day hoped to own.

  She still had to figure out the finances, and a bathroom remodel was definitely going to set her back. But her brain loved a challenge, loved puzzling out all the possible solutions. It reminded her that she was still a smart, capable, creative woman, even after all the dumb mistakes she’d made with her last business. Her last relationship. Her last… just about everything.

  But those mistakes were all in the past.

  Maybe she was crazy, but for the first time in months, when she imagined Big Laurie’s a year from now—bigger, a new name, a full menu, and yes, a new bathroom—she felt hopeful. Excited. Despite the impossible odds, maybe she’d find a way to make it happen anyway.

  And if moving on from the past was possible, and buying and rebooting the pub was possible, then maybe the idea of a real relationship with Henny wasn’t so far-fetched, either.

  “What are you grinning about, Swamp Thing?” Fee tossed her rag into the bucket, cringing as it hit the edge with a wet slap.

  “Nothing,” Bex said, still smiling. “Just… this is actually kind of fun, no?”

  “If this is your idea of fun, Henny is definitely not doing his job between the sheets.” Fee slid her hands down over her hips, doing a little shimmy. “Maybe I should take him off your hands, teach him a few things about how to handle a woman. Well, not in this outfit, of course.”

  Bex cracked up. “He doesn’t need any more lessons in that department, thanks.” She leaned over the bucket to wring out her rag, then knelt down again for another pass behind the toilet. “I’m talking about you and me. Here. Two smart, sexy, kickass ladies working together for a common goal. We’re getting shit done, girl.”

  “Is that a bathroom pun, or—”

  “Don’t harsh my girl-power vibe.”

  As if on cue, the opening verse of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” floated in from the pool table room, sending them both into a fit of raucous giggles.

  “If that’s not a message from the universe,” Bex said, “I don’t know what is.”

  “The cheese factor is high with you today. I like it.” Fee hopped up on her feet, pulling Bex up with her. They grabbed the mops that’d been propped against the wall, holding them like microphone stands as they danced out into the pool table room, singing along with Gloria at the top of their lungs.

  Bex could not stop laughing. She felt like she was in high school again, happy and free and silly and just… glad. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt okay, all of her stress temporarily melted away, and hope reigned supreme.

  She would survive. In so many ways, she already had.

  The song ended, but the girls were still cracking up, winded from their sudden outburst.

  “Drinks. That’s what this dance party needs.” Bex turned toward the bar, only to spot Henny sitting on one of the stools, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “Um.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, unable to hold his gaze. “How long have you been here?”

  “Long enough to see your sweet, sweet dance moves. Was that the cabbage patch?”

  Funny how she had no reservations about Henny seeing her naked, with bedhead and morning breath and sheet marks on her face, but knowing he’d caught her rocking out like a goofball? That made her cheeks burn. “Not all of us can be graceful athletes, Henderson.”

  “Oh, you’re totally graceful. In a 1980s kind of way.”

  “What are you even doing here? Your flight—”

  “Can wait.” Henny rose from the stool and scooped her up into a hug, ignoring the dampness of her clothes. “I’m not leaving town without a good-luck kiss.”

  “You wouldn’t feel so lucky if you knew what I’d been kneeling in for the last hour.”

  “Does this look like the face of a man who cares?” Without waiting for her reply, Henny lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her in a delicious kiss that melted away the chill.

  “You just made my whole night better,” she said.

  “Not mine,” Fee said. “Next time, bring your hot friends.”

  “Last time I brought them, they ended up on YouTube. We’re still dealing with the fallout.” Looking around the bar, he asked, “What’s the damage, anyway?”

  “Bathroom floor and cabinet are a little warped,” Bex said, following him into the pool table room. “The water came all the way out here, but Fee stopped the leak before it hit the jukebox.”

  “Thank God.” Henny pressed his hand to his chest. “Losing all those Whitesnake CDs would set this town back decades.”

  Bex punched him in the shoulder. “I was more concerned about electrocuting everyone, jerkface, but you make a valid point.”

  Henny crouched down to inspect the pool table legs. The cardboard they’d shoved under there to stabilize it had disintegrated into mush. “Life has not been kind to this poor pool table.”

  “Neither have we,” she teased.

  “Wait. Did you guys… on the pool table?” Fee’s eyes went wide. “And you were worried about health code violations and Yelp reviews?” In a mocking voice, she said, “Big Laurie’s: Awesome service, great food, but the pool balls are a little on the sticky side. One star.”

  “No one likes to play with sticky balls,” Henny said.

  Fee wrinkled her nose. “You guys are so gross. Adorable, but gross. Remind me never to touch the pool table again.”

  “If that’s how you feel,” Henny said, “better steer clear of the office, the store room, and the—”

  “This guy!” Bex patted him on the chest. “What
a kidder. Too bad he can’t stay.”

  “I’ve got—”

  “A flight to catch.” Bex ushered him to the front door, looping her arms around his neck and stretching up on her tiptoes for another kiss. Taking advantage of the privacy, she pressed herself against his muscled chest and parted her lips, savoring the deep stroke of his tongue, the soft scratch of his stubble against her chin, the warmth of his strong, protective embrace.

  “I hate that I have to get on that plane.” Henny moaned softly, kissing her cheek, her jaw, the shell of her ear, his breath hot and inviting on her skin. “Any chance I can talk you into coming with me?”

  “Probably, but Mom’s counting on me to keep this place running. Don’t be a bad influence, Kyle Henderson.”

  “Excuse me, but you’re the bad influence in this operation. Always have been.”

  “I’m the angel. You’re the Bad-Boy Bachelor of Buffalo. Says so right in the newspaper, so you know it must be true.”

  “You love it when I’m bad.”

  “In bed, yes. When I’ve got work to do? Not so much.”

  Henny finally relented, pulling away to zip up his coat. “How’s Mom doing, anyway? Any news from Florida?”

  “Aunt Sharon is doing great, but Mom wants to stick around a few more weeks, just to be sure she gets back into her routine okay.”

  “Did you tell her about…?”

  Bex waited for him to finish his thought, but he left it hanging there, and she wasn’t sure how to fill in the blank. What was there to tell? That they’d been sleeping together? That his kisses left her breathless and weak? That she still had no idea where this thing was going, or whether Henny even wanted it to go anywhere?

  Bex lowered her eyes. It was probably time for them to have an actual conversation about things, to figure out just what each of them wanted out of this arrangement. But not at the bar, and certainly not when Henny had twenty minutes to catch a flight before they left him behind.

  After a beat, she finally looked up at him again and smiled. “And confirm her age-old suspicions about that night at the lake? No way. We’re never telling her.”