“Team, this is my oldest grandchild, Kayla.”
The greeting was reciprocated by a handful of grunts and halfhearted hellos. The less-than-enthusiastic welcome was embarrassing, so Brandon, as the team captain, manned up. He skated forward, sticking his glove under his arm to pull it off so he could shake her hand.
“Great to meet you. I’m Brandon.” He even managed a smile, not too big, not too lascivious. Or so he hoped.
“This is Brandon’s last game. He’s moving soon. Too soon.”
“Ah, hello,” Kayla said.
“And Will, you remember Kayla, right? I think you’re the only player on the team who’s met her before.”
Will didn’t look up from his skates but for a solitary, fleeting glance.
“I remember you, Will,” Kayla said. “You’re the guy who lives in my grandpa’s backyard.”
Duke gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “Saying he lives in my backyard makes him sound like a stray dog.”
“He kinda is, when you think about it,” Gabe mumbled.
Will jabbed his stick into Gabe’s side. “Screw you, jackass.”
Kayla’s hands found her hips as she sized Will up. “Oh, you are alive in there. I wasn’t sure.”
Will opened and closed his mouth, then hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Liam was right. I’ve got to go warm up for the game.”
Most of the players saw their window of opportunity and followed Will, but Brandon figured it was his obligation to stay and represent the team.
“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Duke said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong; you’re a sight for sore eyes, but we didn’t expect to see you until Thanksgiving. Is everything all right?”
“Sort of. I’m sorry I sprang this visit on you. I should’ve called. It was a last-minute decision because I need a place to crash for a little while.”
Duke’s face fell. “Trouble with your folks?”
Kayla surveyed the crowd around her, namely Harper, Brandon, and a handful of other players, and turned self-conscious. “Yeah. They’re pretty upset with me right now, but we should talk about that after the game. In private.”
Brandon’s first thought was uh-oh. He eyed her bare, flat stomach, wondering how far along a woman had to be before she started showing. He darted a look at Harper, whose eyes widened, though he wasn’t entirely sure what she was emoting to him. Seemed like disgust.
Was he out of line to wonder if Kayla’s trouble was sex-related?
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Duke asked. That set Brandon’s mind at ease. He wasn’t the only one whose mind had gone there.
Kayla looked outraged, not unlike Harper had looked a moment earlier. “What? No. Of course not. I know how to take care of myself.”
Duke let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s a relief. Whatever disagreement you’re having with your parents, I’m sure it’ll blow over soon. We’ll talk tonight. Your grandmother will know what to say to your folks to help smooth things out.”
“It’s not going to blow over. They’re pissed at me because”—she drew up tall—“Okay, I’ll just tell you now. I enlisted in the Marine Corps and my folks were—”
Duke’s shoulders hiked up and his eyes went wide. “You what? Tell me you’re kidding. I’d rather you’d told me you’re knocked up.”
The remaining Bomb Squad players glided away without a sound. Brandon should have probably joined them, but he had a feeling Duke might appreciate him running interference should his conversation with Kayla turn heated.
Kayla’s face pulled back, as though his reaction had caught her off-guard once again. “No, I’m not kidding. My parents were really mad when they found out, but I know what I want. I didn’t tell them until after I signed up because I knew they’d just try to change my mind.”
“Damn right. That’s exactly what I’m going to try to do, too.”
Her look of shock turned wounded. “Boot camp starts in six weeks and I need some place to live until then. I came here because I thought you were the only person who would understand why I have to do this.”
“No, I don’t understand.”
“I’ve wanted to be a soldier my whole life. You’re the one who encouraged me.”
Worry lines buffeted Duke’s eyes and mouth. “I most certainly did not.”
“Duke,” Brandon said under his breath. He’d planned to suggest that Duke take a ten-minute breather from the conversation, but he was unable to get Duke’s attention, much less another word in edgewise.
“You taught me how to shoot,” Kayla said. “You told me stories about when you were a marine. You’ve always told me how I remind you of yourself when you were younger.”
“You’re a girl. A goddamn girl. The corps is no place for you.”
“Duke,” Brandon said more loudly. “Let’s take a break.”
Kayla had turned pale. “When did you turn sexist, Grandpa? You always told me I could do whatever I wanted. And now I’m just a goddamn girl? You sound like my parents.”
Okay, enough with subtlety. Brandon didn’t see this line of discussion heading anywhere but from bad to worse. Brandon tapped his stick on the plastic sheeting. “Duke, I need a word with you in the locker room. Right now.”
“Can’t you see I’m trying to drill some sense into my granddaughter?”
Harper slid between Duke and Kayla, her arm around Kayla. “Wow. The marines. Congratulations are in order. That’s huge. Come sit with me at the scorekeeper’s table and tell me more about it.”
Kayla seemed relieved by the shift in tone and rewarded Harper with a smile. “Thank you.” She paired her words with a little bounce that made her body jiggle in all the right places.
Brandon flinched and turned to watch his teammates skating a slow circle on the far side of the rink.
“Harper, you’re out of line,” Duke said.
Not even close. In fact, time to run tag-team interference. “I was in the army, so I can’t help you out much,” Brandon said. “I’m happy to answer any questions I can, and we’ve got several former marines on the team who can give you the lowdown on boot camp and anything I can’t help you with. Either Will or Dante would be glad to help.”
Kayla nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Cool. I didn’t know Will was a marine. I’ll ask him about it later.”
“Kayla, go with Harper. We’ll talk more after the game,” Duke said through clenched teeth. “Brandon, you’re right about us needing a word in private.”
Brandon watched Duke slip through the door from the bleachers to the team bench, then followed him into the hallway that led to the locker room.
The moment they were out of sight, Duke grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Brandon had the utmost respect for Duke and allowed himself to be backed into the wall, though he could have easily bested the older man.
“Duke, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to encourage her, but there’s no sense fighting with her if she already enlisted. She knows what she wants.”
“Oh, I’ll deal with Kayla on my own terms, thank you.” He squinted at Brandon, his eyes dark and angry. Even though Brandon knew Duke was merely venting and he didn’t mean anything personal by the outburst, it still threw him off to see his mentor and one of the greatest men he’d ever met turn violent.
“Here’s the deal,” Duke hissed. “Until you leave on Monday, I’m holding you personally responsible for seeing that my granddaughter, the light of my life, is respected by the team. Anyone so much as looks at her a fraction longer than appropriate or treats her like anything other than their little sister and their ass is off the team. Especially if they’re one of the team’s top scorers and have a perpetual hard-on for vulnerable young women like her.”
Just like that, the anger in Duke’s eyes did turn personal. Brandon was one of the team’s two top scorers and t
he other man was engaged to Allison Whitley. Brandon had never minded his reputation as a lothario before—he’d earned that rep fair and square. But it hurt to hear Duke accuse him of taking advantage of the women he hooked up with and, even more, that he didn’t automatically assume that Brandon would respect Duke’s flesh and blood.
Brandon had slept with dozens of Kaylas over the years, in their early twenties with tight, tanned bodies and brazen senses of self. But he didn’t need to be told not to mess with Duke’s kin. That went without saying. Frankly, he didn’t see how he could ever look at another hot, toned college girl again without thinking that she was someone’s granddaughter.
“There’s no need to issue a threat to me because I would never disrespect you like that. None of the guys would. I’m sorry your expectations of us, of me, are so low.”
Regret and fear warred in Duke’s eyes. He released Brandon’s neck and wiped his hand on his slacks. “When Kayla was a baby, she called me Papa Duck because she couldn’t say ‘Duke.’ She wore a blue superhero cape every day for a year after her third birthday, slept with it and everything. Just an itty-bitty thing, but full of so much spit and vinegar, even back then.”
He slumped forward, gripping Brandon’s sleeve. Whether it was for support or emphasis, Brandon couldn’t be sure. “The Marine Corps is going to destroy my little girl. If boot camp doesn’t, then deployment will. I’ve seen that with too many soldiers who find me and Bomb Squad after they’ve been broken beyond repair. Their minds are as messed up as their bodies, and those are tough-as-nails men, not a young, impressionable woman. I’ve seen the way women are treated in the service; I’ve heard stories.”
Brandon’s heart went out to Duke and to the rest of the family struggling with Kayla’s choice. If Brandon had a daughter, he’d do everything he could to talk her out of that life. There was nothing Brandon could say to allay Duke’s very legitimate fears. She might come back broken or her mental health shredded. She might not come back at all.
But Kayla’s mind was already made up, so there was nothing to do but find a kernel of hope and hang on to it tightly. “You said it yourself: Kayla’s tough. Spit and vinegar, right? She’s going to be okay.”
“What if she’s not? All I know is that the minute she steps off the bus for boot camp, there won’t be anyone to look out for her, no threats I can issue to make sure she comes back to me safe and alive and in one piece. I know you wouldn’t disrespect her or me, but let me have this one, son. Give an old man the chance to feel like he has control over something when it comes to the people he loves.”
Any lingering offense at Duke’s threats about Brandon keeping his hands off Kayla evaporated. He was just a scared grandpa, and Brandon was a safe target to vent his fears to. He gave Duke’s shoulder an affectionate shake. “I’ve always said, coming home in one piece is overrated.”
Not that he was making light of his brothers-in-arms who’d been severely injured and to whom life would always be a constant struggle as a result. Brandon respected them above all—they were one of the major reasons he was doing Meet the Groom—but the guys on Bomb Squad were living proof of how to live life to the fullest with a disability and, in Brandon’s case, coming home a limb short had been the best thing to ever happen to him.
Duke gave an anxious laugh and straightened, smoothing his shirt.
Brandon offered him his hand to shake. “It’d be an honor to be charged with looking out for her until I leave for Miami. I’ll take full responsibility for making sure Kayla’s safe. You’ve got my word. After I leave, I know the rest of the team will look out for her, too. You could ask any one of the guys. All of them.”
Duke shook his hand. “I will. And thank you.” Then he tugged Brandon into a bear hug. “Let’s get you on the ice to warm up. We’ve got a game to win for my granddaughter.”
***
Harper and Kayla watched Brandon follow Duke into the locker room hallway to talk. About what, Harper had no idea, but maybe it had something to do with the way Brandon kept eyeballing Kayla. Jerk. In fact, the whole team was a bunch of jerks, treating Kayla like some exotic siren to be feared lest they fall under her intoxicating spell.
“I didn’t think my grandpa would be this pissed,” Kayla said, her eyes tracking the players warming up on the ice.
“He’s worried about you, and I don’t blame him, even if he did react poorly. Which he most certainly did.”
“I really thought, of all the people in my family, he’d be the one to understand why I have to do this with my life.”
Harper took a good, long look at the young woman sitting beside her. In a lot of ways, Kayla reminded her of her herself when she was younger. Confident in her skills and in her sexuality and not afraid to take on the world.
What happened to Harper in the years since she’d been Kayla’s age? Of course, she already knew the answer to that. She shook away the thought and refocused on Kayla. “Why do you have to do this with your life? Help me understand.”
Kayla threw up her arms. “Because I’m bored.” She said it earnestly, as though boredom was a logical, justifiable reason to risk her life in a dangerous career.
“Bored?” That was the most ridiculous explanation she’d ever heard. “You’re only, what, twenty-one?”
“Twenty-two.”
“How could you be bored with life already?”
Kayla slumped in her chair, looking disappointed with Harper. “You’re just like them. My parents. They don’t understand, either. They look at Grandpa’s hockey team and all they see are the disfigurements, the disabilities. They don’t see the life and the honor that being a soldier brings.”
Maybe it was because Harper was perilously close to turning forty, but being compared to Kayla’s parents lit a fire inside her to prove otherwise. “No, no. I’m not like them. I see the life and the honor that the Bomb Squad players have. I just don’t understand your logic—yet. That’s why you need to help me out here. Tell me why boredom is a reasonable justification for joining the Marine Corps. Help me see this from your point of view.”
In the corner of Harper’s vision, she saw her friends arrive—Olivia, Marlena, Allison, and Presley. She waved, then held up her finger to let them know she was busy listening to Kayla and would greet them in a moment. Getting the hint, they settled quietly on the bench behind the scorekeeper’s table, talking softly amongst one another.
“Not enough people are bored. That what’s wrong with people today,” Kayla said.
Oh, good. Another twenty-two year old who knows everything. Astonishing, how wise the youth of America was before they had to grow up and get real jobs and pay the bills. Harper had hired enough young waitresses over the years to be intimately familiar with the faulty logic of know-it-all youngsters.
And didn’t that make Harper sound like a stodgy old fart? Ugh. She refocused on Kayla’s monologue, which showed no signs of slowing down.
“Everyone’s so ready to accept the status quo,” Kayla said. “Nobody’s hungry for life, at least not in the town I live in. My friends from high school, none of them want to move out of their parents’ houses or get real jobs. Everyone’s so boring all the time, but nobody’s bored.”
“What do you mean by ‘bored’? I’m not following you yet.”
“If you’re bored, then that means you’re still hungry for new experiences. You’re not satisfied with what you have. Like me. I don’t want to live in Raleigh my whole life. I don’t want to work in my parents’ store and hang out with my high school friends. I don’t want to get married and settle down.”
Sounded like someone else Harper knew. Her gaze flashed at the hallway from which Brandon was emerging. She watched him take to the ice and call the team around him for a pre-game powwow.
“I want to try everything and learn everything and never stop being afraid of boredom,” Kayla said. “But there’s no way I could a
fford to see the world or have my mind blown with new experiences unless I enlist in the military. So I chose the Marine Corps, like Grandpa did.”
“A lot of soldiers get more than their minds blown with new experiences. Some of them actually get blown up.” That came out sounding way more lame than it had in her mind, but she got her point across.
“I know that. Of course I know that.” Kayla’s gaze shifted to Gabe, who was standing in the goaltending crease making sure the ice in the crease was exactly how he wanted it. “But I can’t live my life expecting the worst to happen.”
Harper blinked back as Kayla’s words hit her hard. She’d never heard it put quite like that before, but that was exactly how Harper had been living her life. She had good reason to expect the worst to happen, but that attitude wasn’t serving her well. Maybe Kayla and her know-it-all youthful wisdom wasn’t so off base after all.
“My friends just showed up,” Harper said. “Let me introduce you.”
She stood and Kayla followed suit. “Ladies, I have a VIP for you to meet tonight. This is Duke’s granddaughter, Kayla. Kayla, these are my friends. Olivia, Presley, Allison, and Marlena.”
Kayla shook each woman’s hand.
“It’s nice to meet someone from Duke’s family,” Olivia said with a cheery smile. “We’ve heard so much about you and your parents over the years from Duke and Donna.”
“Olivia is a high school science teacher, and she also has the dubious honor of being the twin sister to one of the Bomb Squad defensemen, Liam.” Harper pointed him out on the ice. “He’s the tall one with the high and tight dark blond hair and the tattoos on his arms.”
“The hot one,” Marlena added, giving a jaunty toss of her flowing copper-colored hair.
“And Marlena is married to Liam,” Harper told Kayla.
“Cool,” Kayla said. “Are you a teacher, too?”
“Yes. A yoga teacher.”
“Cool.”
Harper patted Allison’s arm. “Allison co-owns a boat rental company along with her fiancé, Theo, another Bomb Squad player.”
Game Changer Page 6