Steele

by Bennett, Sawyer

  “She wants a puppy,” I continue. “But I’m not sure she’s ready to care for one. She thinks she is because she’s taken care of Samson a few times, but I’ve explained to her there’s a big difference between an adult trained dog and a puppy.”

  “You could get her an older dog from a shelter,” Kane suggests. “And Mollie can help her train a bit.”

  “Nah, man,” Bain pipes up. “Puppy is the way to go. Train them from the start, and there’s better bonding.”

  Kane grins, teasingly pointing out. “Yeah… butter the kid up with a puppy, and she’ll totally be on your side in your bid to get back Ella.”

  Jett and Bain’s attention snap my way, eyes wide with curiosity as this is the first they’ve heard I’m on an actual mission to reclaim my wife. Although I shoot Kane a glare, I don’t care who knows. I intend to get her back, which means she’ll soon be returning to the Vengeance family fold.

  “That’s fucked up,” Riggs says in a low rumble that startles us into snapping our eyes his way.

  “What’s fucked up?” I ask.

  “Using your kid to get your wife back,” he growls, eyes shooting daggers at me and then over to Kane for suggesting such a thing. “You shouldn’t ever use kids.”

  “It was just a joke,” Kane says calmly, but I’m not so calm he would even think I’d do that. I mean, yeah… if Lucy wants us back together, that’s great, but I’m sure not going to trick or bribe her into helping me facilitate it.

  Still, Riggs has made it clear he doesn’t want to enter our circle of friends, so I don’t appreciate his unsolicited advice. I take a step toward him, scowling down as he’s still on the bench. “You don’t know me, Riggs. Because if you did, you’d know I’d never use Lucy in any manner that could hurt her or benefit me or both. So until you want to try to get to know me or any of your other linemates, keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  Kane whistles low in surprise, and Bain mutters, “Damn.”

  Riggs merely blinks, face impassive, and it’s clear my words don’t mean a thing to him.

  I pivot away from him, then start to unlace my pants. Ignoring Riggs, Kane presses about the puppy. “I have an idea that is a middle ground for you and Lucy on the puppy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There are organizations that train service dogs, but until they’re old enough to be trained, they have to be fostered. It’s often done in phases, and some organizations have just a puppy foster program where you have them for a few weeks to help them socialize to people. It could be a great starter way to see if Lucy is really up to the task of taking care of a pet.”

  I smile, my mouth curving higher and peeling into a broad grin. “That’s a great idea.”

  Not only because it is a great middle-ground, but it also gives me an in with Ella tonight. I had no clue what I was going to say when I went over there, but I didn’t want her to forget about me since she’s still dating Mr. Ordinary.

  But now… we actually have something to talk about.

  ♦

  I don’t pull into Ella’s driveway, but park on the street so my headlights don’t shine into the front windows. Lucy’s room is upstairs and in the front. Her light is out, so I know she’s asleep for the night.

  The master suite is at the back of the house, but without me being able to see it, I know the light on Ella’s bedside table will be on. She rarely goes to bed before midnight, always having a million things to do and not enough time to do them. But she usually ends every night with about twenty minutes to half an hour of reading for pleasure. She hasn’t gotten with the digital age, as she still prefers the feel of a paperback in her hand. She’s an avid horror and post-apocalypse reader, which is good by me. I’m on her team if the apocalypse ever happens as she’s so well-read on it.

  I get out of my Range Rover, quietly shut the door, and make my way up the driveway. I don’t cut toward the front porch but rather go around to the backyard. The prior owners had it fenced in as they had a dog, and for a moment, I can see Lucy running around with a puppy out here.

  Carefully unlatching the gate, I open it to step through. If any neighbors happen to be watching a dark figure entering Ella Steele’s backyard, I’m sure there’s going to be a call to 9-1-1, so I make sure to creep silently past the back patio and out to the middle of the yard where there’s a small gazebo with two lounge chairs. On cooler evenings, Ella and I would sometimes sit out here and drink a beer at the end of the day while we talked, although I can’t remember the last time we did that.

  After I settle into one of the chaises, I pull out my phone. I send Ella a text. Are you awake?

  She answers immediately. Yup.

  I’m in the gazebo. Join me.

  There’s no response, but I eye the window of the master suite, illuminated by the bedside light I knew would be on. She jerks up the blind, then peers out. Although, it’s so dark out here I doubt she can see me. I flip my phone over so she can see the light, then wave it.

  The blinds drop, and all I can do is wait.

  In less than two minutes, Ella creeps out the sliding glass door. It was too much to hope she’d just come out in a t-shirt and panties, which is usually all she wears to bed. Instead, the glow of the patio light shows yoga pants under her t-shirt. She slipped into flip-flops, and her hair is in a messy knot on top of her head.

  She carefully picks her way across the yard and up the gazebo steps, then stares down at me. Her face is shadowed, but her tone is a mixture of disbelief and irritation. “What are you doing here?”

  “Had to talk about a few things regarding Lucy,” I reply, lacing my hands behind my head and leaning full back on the chaise. I nod toward the one beside me. “Pop a squat.”

  Ella heaves an overly dramatic sigh and flops on the chair beside me, grumbling. “You could have called.”

  “Then I wouldn’t have been able to see you,” I reply casually. “And I really wanted to see you.”

  My eyes have adjusted to the dark, so I can see her whip my way. “Why?”

  I frown. Why would she even ask such a question? As she can probably see enough to read my expression, I explain as simply as I can. “Because you’re beautiful. Because I miss you. Because I needed to. Take your pick.”

  She averts her gaze as if she can’t look directly at me when I say stuff like that. It’s been so long since she’s probably heard me say them so spontaneously.

  “Do you miss me?” I murmur into the dark, still peering her way.

  This time, her body stays still, but she admits, “Parts of you.”

  That’s fair enough, I suppose. I don’t challenge her because I don’t have the right to question any of Ella’s feelings. Most I can do is try to understand them and hopefully learn.

  I could pry—push her to tell me those parts she likes best—but I don’t need the ego boost. More likely, there could be little she has to offer, and I don’t want the ego crush. So, I’ll let it lie for now and make it be enough she at least misses me in some ways. I can work with that.

  “Lucy wants a puppy,” I say, moving away from the story of us.

  “So I’ve heard,” Ella murmurs, and I can hear the amusement in her voice. “Like a million times.”

  “What do you think about it?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “You’re the one with the allergies. I love dogs and it’s a lot of work, but I think we could do it.”

  “I don’t think you should have to do all the work.” She rolls her head toward me, but her face is shadowed. “Lucy is thirteen. She wants a pet, so she should be the one to care for it.”

  “True,” Ella replies. “Sounds like you have doubts.”

  “Not doubts,” I reply with a shake of my head. “More like I don’t want her to fail because I don’t want her to doubt herself. What’s the best way to make sure she succeeds, but in a way that doesn’t mean we run in and do all the work for her?”

  “I hear you,” she says, her tone indicating I should go on.


  I explain Kane’s idea of fostering a puppy from a service dog organization to see if it’s workable. Not only with my allergies—I’ll stock up on medications or something—but how we would manage with Lucy and the puppy going back and forth between our homes with my work schedule that varies each week.

  “It’s a good idea,” Ella concedes. “But what if she fosters and doesn’t do a great job? Are you prepared to tell her she can’t have her own puppy?”

  Christ, probably not.

  But I shore up my dad spine. “If she’s not ready, she’s not ready. We can try again when she’s fourteen.”

  “She’ll be heartbroken,” Ella murmurs sadly, but she doesn’t disagree.

  “Yeah, well, I think she won’t. Our Lucy is mature and loyal to her commitments. I think she’ll succeed.”

  “And then, at that point, we just hope the allergies don’t kill you,” Ella snickers.

  God, I love her snicker. It makes me laugh, and that feels good… sitting here in the dark, laughing with my wife.

  We make a plan—Ella will look into local agencies, give me a list, and I’ll make calls. We decide to keep it as a surprise to Lucy.

  It’s when Ella yawns that I know it’s time to leave. I spread my legs, then push up off the chaise. “I should get going.”

  Ella swings her legs the opposite way, crossing her arms as she faces me.

  I don’t know what to say, so I ask something I already know. “Lucy’s debate team match is still this Wednesday, right? Six PM?”

  She can’t hide it, but Ella jerks in surprise. I never remember anything. Have a pattern of not keeping things straight even when she put items on a shared Google calendar. It’s been a problem, and it has caused me to miss some of Lucy’s stuff throughout the years.

  I don’t need the shadows to lift off her face to know she’s gaping at me in complete bafflement.

  “Um… yeah,” she finally says.

  “Great.” I smile, wondering if she can see it in the slivers of moonlight sifting through the neighbor’s acacia tree. “I’ll see you both there.”

  After I step off the gazebo, I wait for Ella to exit and walk beside her toward the house to make sure she gets in safely.

  Her hand goes to the wooden handle on the sliding glass door, but she hesitates, finally shifting toward me. “I was irritated you came here tonight, but I’m not now. This was a good talk. A nice time.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” I give her a slight tip of my head.

  I pivot, take one step away from her, but then stop. I can’t let a moment where we’re getting along go to waste.

  “Ella,” I call. Stopping with the door partially open, she swivels. “I know when you said I needed to leave, I asked you a million times why you were doing this, and I know you told me the answer just as many times. I’m not sure I was ever really listening to you, and that’s my bad. But can you tell me, one more time and in as few words as possible, why you wanted to separate?”

  I can see her face clearly now from the patio light, and her brows knit slightly. “As few words as possible?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper. “Because I want to figure the rest out on my own.”

  She inhales sharply at my bold proclamation, then lets out a long exhale. “Exactly as you just said, Jim. You didn’t listen to me when I was trying to tell you things were getting bad. Boiled down… I was invisible to you.”

  I want to deny that statement—want to yell it’s not true. That every time I looked at her from the moment we met until the day she kicked me out, I was dazzled by her. But I know we’re speaking about two entirely different things.

  I just nod. “Thank you for telling me that.”

  Ella gives a soft smile, a little bit sad, a little bit perplexed. “Good night, Jim. See you Wednesday at the debate.”

  “Goodnight, Ella,” I murmur, watching as she disappears inside. I have a lot of ruminating to do—a hard analysis of how I treated my wife and how that led me to losing her.

  CHAPTER 5

  Steele

  Coach Perron is at the locker room entrance, slapping us on the back as we shuffle in. We pulled off another win tonight—2-1 against the Vancouver Flash. It was a stalemate-type battle, as the score was 2-1 at the end of the first period, but we held our ground and didn’t let them score again to tie it up.

  Of course, we didn’t score either after the first period, but their goalie was on point tonight after he let those first two biscuits slip in.

  Once again, I offered Lucy tickets to the game, and she declined. I can’t figure out if she has truly decided she doesn’t like hockey anymore, she doesn’t like going without her mom, or she’s trying to punish me for past sins.

  I don’t think it’s the last as things seem to be going well between us. I’m sure part of it is the puppy request, and I also think part of it is because I’m trying. Not going to lie… it hurt last night when I attended Lucy’s debate match and when she saw me in the second row sitting beside her mom, she did a double-take of surprise. This even after I had texted her a few hours before the match to tell her I couldn’t wait to see her kick butt.

  Lucy did great—I always knew my kid could persuasively argue—but her team as a whole did not and they lost. She was consoled with my offer to take her and her mom out for ice cream, and while I could tell Ella was a bit uncomfortable, she wasn’t about to deny Lucy when she was excited.

  It was a good time—twenty minutes of eating ice creams and making family small talk like we used to in the past—like how the school week and Ella’s work were going. Of course, while neither attended the games this week, they knew all about our wins and losses, so we talked hockey some.

  It was easy and reminded me of better times, even though I could sense it made Ella uneasy.

  It’s not that Ella, Lucy, and I haven’t done family things since the separation. There have been school events where Ella and I sat together. Plus, Lucy’s birthday was two months ago, and Ella threw her a party with all her friends. Of course, I attended. As always, Ella and I got on fine.

  But now… Ella knows I have certain intentions, and it seems to be throwing her off. Like she expects me to lay a deep kiss on her right in front of Lucy or something.

  At any rate, the debate and ice cream after was the highlight of my week, my short evening with Ella the night I snuck into her backyard being the second.

  It’s a testament to how much I’ve changed because I’ve played three games since Sunday, yet those came in a distant third. In my heart of hearts, I know there was a time when those games would have occupied my thoughts far more than my own family did, and it makes me ashamed.

  But now, I follow Kane into the locker room. Coach gives him a back slap, and Kane grumbles to himself because he had a bad game. During the first intermission, I told him he needed to get his head out of his ass as it certainly wasn’t in the game. He’d then informed me that he and Mollie had just broken up.

  I immediately felt like shit, but then pulled it together to give him some sage advice. Before our seventeen-minute intermission was up, I had Kane in a bit of a more optimistic mood, but he still didn’t play up to par the rest of the game.

  My second line once again congregates near our cubbies, chitchatting as we get undressed to shower. Kane is a little grumbly, Jett and Bain are making plans to party at the Sneaky Saguaro, and Riggs may have even tipped one corner of his mouth up when I told him he played a great game.

  Elbowing Kane after wrapping a towel around my waist, I ask, “Want to go out for a quiet beer somewhere?”

  His expression is one of gratitude because even though what I told him during intermission made logical sense to him, I can see him getting back in his head. He nods. “That would be great, man.”

  ♦

  We’re halfway through our first beer, and I’ve let Kane ramble on about Mollie. Their story is kind of cute… best friends since college, but, in the blink of an eye, they became lovers. Things went fast as they ha
d a strong, underlying love for each other.

  And when they fell apart, they did so at the same speed.

  Kane is new to the Vengeance. Unlike me, as I was brought here from Quebec in the expansion draft, Kane was a late-season trade with the Carolina Cold Fury. So even though we’ve only known each other for about six months, he’s become my closest friend on the team.

  As such, I feel comfortable in reiterating to him once again that he’s being a dumbass where Mollie’s concerned. When he proposed, instead of saying yes, she told him that she was considering a yearlong job in Australia as she’s a travel blogger.

  Just as I told him during intermission, a year apart isn’t that big a deal. Not when they could have forty or fifty years together.

  He nods with a sheepish smile. “I know, man. You’re right. I get it. I just have to get over having my feelings bruised that she wants to go.”

  “Well, get over it,” I say pointedly as I pick up my beer. “And tomorrow, I suggest you start making things right. Put the engagement ring on her finger while telling her it’s cool if she takes the job—say you’ll get married when she gets back. It’s that simple.”

  “Simple,” Kane murmurs as if he’s testing the weight of that word on his tongue. Then he blinks before turning more toward me. “Speaking of simple… how are things with you and Ella?”

  I fill him in on the major points since we last spoke about my own dilemma with my woman, recounting everything since the kiss we shared after I fixed the garbage disposal to our evening watching Lucy at her debate match and ice cream after.

  “What’s the next move?” Kane asks.

  I shrug. “I’m not sure. I had asked her out to dinner for tomorrow night, but she’s already got plans to go out with Mr. Ordinary.”

  “What the fuck?” Kane exclaims, his eyebrows shooting high. “You mean she’s still seeing someone?”

  “Same guy we tailed at the food festival,” I mutter.

  “And you’re okay with that?” he asks tentatively.

  “No, I’m not okay with that,” I snap, lifting my glass and draining it. “But I also can’t demand she stop seeing him. I have nothing trustworthy to offer her, so the best I can do is assure I’m confident she’ll choose me in the end.”