The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2)

by Mary Smith

  I groaned at the word. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.” I took a seat at the table.

  Grams stopped her task and sat across from me. “She called and wanted to see if you would talk to her now.”

  I stared at the woman who had raised me since I was a month old. Grams had been the only one around my entire life. My so-called parents decided they really didn’t want a baby. They wanted to continue to party and be free. My mother’s mother didn’t want to raise me. So, Grams stepped up and happily did it.

  Every memory had her in it. She helped me learn how to skate, took me to every practice and never missed a game. She would sit with me to make sure my homework was done. She even read to me, especially after I learned how. When I was sick, she sat at my bedside and read some of my favorite novels to me.

  “I’m twenty-five. Why now?” I grumbled.

  “She’s been clean for many months now.”

  My father, Marco, had been Grams’ son and a horrible drunk. He died when I was a teenager. For a long time, Grams blamed herself for his actions, feeling at fault for the situation. My mother was just as bad as him.

  However, Grams was an angel. None of it was her fault.

  “I’m an adult. I love you, and I will take care of you until my last breath. But I do not want to talk to her,” I told her plainly and firmly. I know I’ve said it before, but it was worth repeating.

  “Okay. I promise not say any more on the topic.” She patted my hand. “However, there is something else I’d like to talk about.”

  “And…”

  “Harlow.”

  “Oh, Grams,” I sighed. I knew where this was going. “She’s editing my book.”

  “She seems to be more. I mean, she came over here to check on you. Is it in her editing contract to check on you when you’re ill?”

  I knew she wanted me to marry and have children, but I’ve told her, just like with the topic of my parents, I didn’t want to get married nor have children.

  “Harlow’s nice. Nothing else.”

  Grams stifled a laugh. “I’m old, not blind. I can see there’s something more.”

  “It could be because you think you see something and there’s nothing.”

  “Keep thinking that way, Keaton Michael.”

  Practice was the best I’d had in a long time until Coach showed up. His foul mood ruined it and put us all in the same mood.

  Remington invited me to lunch afterward, and since I was ahead on my schoolwork and my edits, I could spare some time for lunch.

  “I’ve not seen you in forever.” Remington slid into the booth.

  “Busy healing.” I lightly pat my ribs. They were sore, but nothing like they were a few days ago.

  “I bet. How’s it going with Harlow?”

  I shrugged and picked up the menu. “I told you she and I are just friends.”

  “Dude, I’ve never known you to have female friends. What gives?”

  Before I could answer, the waitress came back and took our orders. I needed to come up with something to say or change the topic.

  “How’s the chick you were seeing?” Changing the topic seemed like the easier idea.

  “I’ve not been with anyone since I’ve been in Manchester.”

  “What?” I could have sworn I’d heard him on his cell talking to a female more than once.

  “What, what?”

  “Dude, I thought you had a girl?”

  “No,” he said firmly.

  “Then what about Maxima?”

  “There’s nothing going on there,” he stated.

  “Oh, but you want there to be.” I knew what his tone meant.

  “She’s a nice person. Nothing else.”

  “So, you say.”

  I let it go because I could see his face getting red. Even though I liked ragging on him, I didn’t want to pry into his personal life. I wouldn’t want anyone in mine. I get enough from Grams.

  I changed the topic to hockey and our standings. We also talked about our goalie, Teo Elgin. He had a good personality, but his game had been way off lately. Really bad, actually. I knew Coach had been riding his ass worse than ours.

  “He’ll probably be traded soon or dropped back to the farm.” Remington dived into his food.

  I’ve done my time in the minors, aka the farm. A lot of good players from the PHL have been there.

  “I say he goes farming.” I bit into my burger.

  “He’s a nice guy.”

  “Nice doesn’t matter if he can’t stop the pucks. You and Kyson can put shit in the back of the net all three periods, but if Teo can’t stop any then what’s the point?”

  Remington nodded in agreement, and we went back to eating. Once we finished everything, we headed off in our different directions to get ready for the game.

  I stopped at the store and grabbed a few things for Grams and ran them over to her. I made sure Grams’ places, when we changed towns, were something simple and small, the way she liked it. I told her she didn’t have to follow me, but I loved she does.

  “Grams,” I announced myself coming through the door.

  “In here,” she called from the kitchen.

  “I brought you a few things since it’s supposed to snow again tonight.”

  Grams sat at her kitchen table, having a cup of warm tea. “I don’t think I’m going to the game tonight, Keaton Michael.”

  After I put everything up, I sat across from her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I don’t feel like driving.” She patted my hand lovingly.

  “Okay, do you need me to get anything else for you?” I’d go to the moon and back for her if she needed me to.

  “Why don’t you go home and start on the project for school? Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’ll always worry about you. You’re a little too rebellious, and I’ve got to keep you in line,” I joked with her.

  Grans laughed, and I felt better seeing her smile. “You’re such a good boy, but I know you and you have a lot of work to do.”

  “Love you, Grams.” I knew when I had been dismissed, and I bent down and gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

  “Love you, Keaton Michael.”

  The game was aggressive, but that was a quality of the Las Vegas Gamblers, and we didn’t let up either. My ribs were sore from the hits, but I could still breathe without a lot of pain, which was important. Late in the third period, we were still scoreless, and I grew more tired. My second wind better hit me soon or I would have to drink an energy drink.

  I jumped the boards with Kyson and Remington and the three of us skated hard toward the puck. Kyson didn’t usually lose the puck, but someone stole it. I took my position in front of Teo, and when the puck came, I kept it from the crease.

  Remington gained control and shot it to Kyson who kept it away from the other players before shooting it back to Remington, and I watched him slap it easily into the back of the net, right as the buzzer sounded.

  I rushed over to my teammates to celebrate the goal and win. It was the best feeling, coming off the ice and heading back to the locker room; the music was already playing. I needed to have some more fun and told Remington we were going out tonight.

  “Yes, sir.” He fist bumped me, and I rushed through getting ready. I should have asked Kyson to go. Instead, as I was almost ready to leave, I saw our captain, Hamilton Baer, in the parking garage.

  “Hey, Cap.” I jogged over to his car.

  “Yeah?”

  “Rem and I are heading to Billy’s Sports Bar. Want to join us?”

  “Why are you inviting me?” He furrowed his brow.

  “You never go out with us, and I thought it would be nice for you to hang out with your noblemen.”

  “Noblemen?” Hamilton shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got work to do.” He gave me a curt nod and got into his car. Hamilton could be described as not very talkative. I guess some would say he was all work and no play. At least, I played once in
a while.

  I drove over to Billy’s and Remington already had a place at the bar, with two beers in front of him. I didn’t know how fast he’d had to drive to get here, but he had beer.

  “One for me?” I slapped his shoulder, hopping on the stool next to him.

  “Yep and next round is on you.”

  I nodded, taking a drink from a cold bottle.

  “What did you do after lunch?”

  I shrugged. I couldn’t tell him about my crazy schedule with school and the book. “Just chilling with Grams.”

  “Grams is cool and all, but I bet you got bored.”

  “She kept me busy.” I chuckled. “What about you?”

  “My life consists of Netflix.” He smirked.

  “Excuse me.” A young blonde came up to me. “Are you Kyson Wick?”

  I chuckled. “Sorry, wrong guy.” It was then I noticed Harlow sitting at a booth, laughing. I turned from the girl and told Remington I needed to leave for a moment.

  I strolled over toward her and when I reached her, I realized she was with a guy. A much older man, actually. When I glanced at him, I saw his extremely thinning hair, deep wrinkles around his eyes, and to top it off his porn-like 1970’s mustache.

  “Hello honey-bunny.” I beamed at her, ignoring him.

  “Hi.” She gave me her fake smile. I’d know it anywhere.

  “I saw you from the bar, and I knew I had to come over and say hi,” I explained.

  “Did you? You just knew to come over and interrupt us?”

  “Yep.” I kept my smirk in place.

  “Excuse us, George. One moment.” She slid from the booth and tugged me to the other side of the bar. “I owe you one.”

  “What?” I thought she’d be yelling at me.

  “Seriously, thank you. If I have to hear one more boring accounting story from him, I might stab my ears with a spoon.”

  “Ah, so I’m your hero?”

  “Don’t get cocky, puppy.” She pushed on my chest sharply with her finger. “Help me get out of this.”

  “You want me to get you out of the date?”

  “Yes. Come up with something quick, so I can leave.”

  “Why me? You’re not able to come up with an excuse?” I figured she would have a list of get-out-of-dates excuses.

  “Because I’m too nice.”

  I laughed. “Really? Too nice? Oh honey-bunny.”

  “Help me, ass.” She slapped my shoulder this time.

  “Ouch!” It didn’t hurt, but I pretended. “Fine, go back over there, and I’ll get you out of it.”

  She nodded and went back to the bald guy as I went back to Remington.

  “What’s that all about?”

  “Harlow wants me to get her out of the date she’s on. I have no excuse I can come up with.” I shrugged.

  Remington began chuckling. “Maybe you should pull a girl move.”

  “And that is…”

  “You know they go over there, well, they go up the guy and pretend to be married to the guy or ask if he’ll come home to the children. Shit like that.”

  I grinned. “Dude, she’d kick my ass.”

  “Depends on how bad she wants to get out of the date.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and Harlow sat there, politely nodding her head. I couldn’t act, but Remington’s idea did seem logical, and it might work.

  “Here.” I pulled money from my wallet and slapped it down on the bar. “Enjoy the night.”

  I walked back over to Harlow’s booth, and she glanced at me. “Yes, Keaton?”

  “I just want you to clarify something.”

  “What?”

  “Are you wanting to ditch this guy because you want a second chance at our marriage? I can call the lawyer right now if you want.”

  “You’re married?” The guy seemed stunned, and Harlow’s face paled.

  “Yes.” I turned to him. “She cheated on me so many times.” I made my voice crack. “But I love her and our children do too.” I faked sniffled.

  “You have kids?” he asked, more perplexed.

  “We have five,” I answered.

  “Keaton,” Harlow growled. “George, I have to go.” She slid out of the booth, jerking me out of the bar, faster than if I’d been skating on the ice. Her nails were digging into my arm so tightly I thought she would draw blood. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” She pushed me up against my truck.

  “No. You wanted an excuse to leave.”

  “Yes. You could have said you needed a ride home. You could have pretended to be drunk. You could have pretended to be sick and needed my help. But, hell no, you think telling a stranger we’re married with five kids is the better idea.”

  “Harlow, it’s a joke.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s cruel. And you’re an ass, Keaton.” Harlow spun around on her heels and stomped to her SUV.

  Chapter Five

  Harlow

  “I’ve never been so furious in my entire life. That prick probably ruined my sex life for eternity.”

  Meadow and Maxima stared at me. We were at The Latte Bean, and I completely went off about what happened with George the other night.

  “But you asked him,” Maxima clarified.

  “Yes, because I thought he would help me out of the date, not ruin my life.” I hadn’t touched my coffee because of my rage toward Keaton.

  I shouldn’t have even asked him for help. It was stupid of me to do it. I could have handled it on my own, but I’d tried to spare George’s feelings. Mistake number one. Usually, I told everyone my thoughts, but George just came out of a bad relationship, and essentially, I did him a favor. I did talk to him yesterday afternoon, when I went to my accountant’s office, who works in George’s firm. I did my best to explain, but by then it was too late.

  “Harlow, I highly doubt Keaton ruined your sex life.” Meadow sipped her drink. “You’ve never had a problem getting a date.”

  “Okay, I’ll concede to me being a tad over dramatic on that part, but I’m still pissed off at the little prick.”

  “All right.” Meadow nodded. “Then you’re mad at him. But,” she leaned forward. “You have to admit it’s a little funny.”

  “No.” I crossed my arms.

  “It is,” Maxima added.

  “If the shoe was on the other foot, you would have done the same thing.” Meadow called me out.

  I gazed up at the ceiling and avoided eye contact. They’re somewhat right, I would have done something with a bit more pizazz to it. “Fine, I shouldn’t be that mad at him, but I am.”

  “Are you acting this irrational because you like him or because he’s the only one who can dish out what you give?” Maxima asked.

  “What?”

  “I’m serious. I’ve known you for a long time, and you’ve never really dated. Now, I’m wondering if something is going on between you two.”

  “Good observation, Maxima,” Meadow chimed in.

  I reclined back in the seat and thought about what she said.

  Do I like Keaton?

  This was a no brainer. He had a hot body, anyone could see that. Plus, my eyes worked fine.

  Does he have a smart mouth?

  Oh, yes he did, and it turned me on to see a man not offended by what I say or my language. I’ve never kept my feelings or thoughts to myself. Sure, I knew some of the things that popped out were inappropriate, but who cared? If you didn’t like me, then you shouldn’t fucking talk to me.

  Do I want Keaton?

  Technically, Maxima didn’t truly ask this question, but it had been on my mind every time I turned on my vibrator lately. Keaton has been the only one on my mind during my private time.

  “Nothing is going on between us,” I told them.

  “Do you want something to happen?” Maxima asked.

  “Aren’t you supposed to the shy, quiet one of our threesome?”

  Maxima smiled as Meadow snapped her fingers. “You’re dodging the question; therefore, you do wan
t something to happen with Keaton.”

  Without even acknowledging Meadow, I picked up my purse, stood up and said, “I have work to do. See ya.”

  I sat at my computer reading a client’s newest book, but I couldn’t focus on it. Meadow and Maxima both asked me if I wanted something to happen with Keaton, and I did, but at the same time, I didn’t.

  The age difference wasn’t the issue. Something like age didn’t make or break a relationship. He was hot, but looks weren’t everything either. Although, people were lying if they wouldn’t admit it was in their top five deal breakers. He had a similar personality to mine, which I couldn’t be sure was a pro or con at this instant.

  Yes, I thought about Keaton a lot. Yes, he has been part of my fantasies, as well. Yes, I would go out with him if he asked me. Should I ask him out? What would he say? I was well aware he flirted with anything with breasts, but I’ve never seen him really take anyone home.

  “Good grief,” I said aloud. I couldn’t believe I was thinking this way. I was forty and this wasn’t my first time around the block.

  I couldn’t focus on working right now. I had to get up and walk away. Maybe if I had a snack, focusing would be easier. Unfortunately, an interruption came by way of my doorbell. I figured Meadow or Maxima were stopping by to either apologize or tease me some more.

  When I opened the door, bed-head blond hair and blue eyes greeted me. “Are you coming by to check on our five kids? Or, since I’m your wife, should I be cooking dinner at this time of night?”

  “Honey-Bunny, I came over here to say sorry.”

  I gripped the door handle tightly and thought about slamming it in his face. But he pulled a bottle of wine from behind his back.

  “You’re trying to bribe me, puppy?”

  “It’s the American way.” He slightly smirked.

  “I’m only letting you in because of the wine.”

  “I’m hurt.” He placed his hand over his heart and created a pained look on his face. “I thought it would be because of my gorgeous face.”

  “Are you coming in or not?” I asked more firmly, trying not to stare at his sexy face.

  He quickly stepped inside, and I took the bottle he handed me and shut the door. He followed me into the kitchen, and I grabbed the wine glasses from the cupboard.