Troublemaker (New Orleans Bourdons Book 2)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  The mixture finally darkened enough to satisfy me so I added the next ingredients: chopped onions, chopped bell peppers, and chopped celery, something the instructor had lovingly referred to as the trinity...whatever that meant. I added salt and some Cajun seasoning then kept on stirring until it got nice and creamy.

  I was just getting ready to add the mushrooms and garlic when the door opened. I quickly glanced over my shoulder and smiled when Dylan walked in then went back to cooking. I had timed everything just right and I didn't want to ruin it now by burning it because I hadn't paid attention.

  "Something smells good." I heard the thud of his gym bag as he dropped it by the door, followed by the sound of his footsteps as he came into the kitchen. A second later, strong arms snaked around my waist and he pressed a kiss against the side of my neck.

  My eyes drifted shut as I leaned into him, ready for more. I caught myself at the last second and focused my attention on the big pot on the stove.

  He pressed another kiss against my cheek then moved to the refrigerator. "What are you making?"

  "Chicken Fricassee."

  "Really? I didn't realize you knew how to cook."

  "I'm not sure I do. I took a class today."

  "Yeah? Sounds like fun."

  I tilted my head to the side and thought about it for a few seconds. "Actually, it kind of was."

  "And now I get to reap the benefits."

  "Just don't go expecting too much."

  "Don't underestimate yourself, especially if it tastes as good as it smells." He slid onto one of the two stools at the small island counter then reached up and undid his tie and the top two buttons of his dress shirt. Seeing him in a suit still surprised me, even though he wore one every morning when he left for practice. I'd asked him about it after the third day and he had explained it was the dress code, which kind of surprised me. I would have never thought that such a violent game like hockey would have a dress code but apparently it did.

  I reached for the chicken stock and added it to the pot, then followed that with the chicken before covering it and turning down the heat to simmer. I leaned one hip against the counter and let myself silently enjoy the sight of Dylan relaxing for a few seconds.

  "How was practice?"

  "Good, for the most part. Maybe a little exhausting. Coach really pushed us hard today."

  "Any reason why?"

  One corner of Dylan's mouth quirked in something that wasn't quite a grin. "You mean other than the fact that we suck?"

  "You don't suck." The words had come out automatically, without any thought at all—and without any knowledge of what I was talking about. I knew absolutely nothing about hockey. For all I knew, maybe they really did suck.

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence but yeah, we suck." Dylan laughed then took a long swallow of the water before putting the bottle down. "Coach changed up the lines today. He moved me up to the first line."

  "Is that a good thing?"

  "Yeah. As long as I don't screw up."

  "You won't." I turned back to the stove and put the rice on to boil. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes if you wanted to change."

  He slid off the stool then made his way up the steps to the main living area as I started to clean up the rest of the mess I'd made, which really didn't take that long. I heard the television click on, followed by Dylan's soft sigh as he stretched out on the sofa.

  A small smile played around the edges of my mouth as I set the table. It was almost like we were living together, settled in a comfortable routine of domestic bliss.

  I froze at the thought then quickly slammed the mental brakes. We were not living together and we most certainly were not settled in any kind of routine, domestic or otherwise. Thinking like that could get me into serious trouble and make me start wanting things I couldn't have.

  If it wasn't too late for that already.

  No. No, it wasn't. Dylan and I weren't living together. We weren't a couple. We were just having fun, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. It would end soon enough, as soon as I left.

  And I would leave. I had to. I didn't belong here, no matter how comfortable I'd become.

  So why hadn't I left already? Why was I still here?

  I pushed those questions—and the answers I didn't want to admit to—from my mind and focused on something more immediate: dinner. I fixed two bowls of salad—a larger portion for Dylan and a smaller one for me—and placed one at each table setting. Then I drained the rice and spooned some onto two plates before topping each with the Chicken Fricassee.

  "It's ready."

  There was no answering response from Dylan so I glanced over my shoulder, ready to tell him again that dinner was ready. He was stretched out on the sofa, one arm above his head, the other crossed over his chest. A lock of shaggy hair fell over his forehead into his eyes—his closed eyes.

  I watched him sleep for a few minutes, my heart melting just a little bit in my chest. Maybe it was too late for me already. Maybe I'd already started the plunge over the edge of reason. Maybe I already wanted things I couldn't have.

  Yeah, maybe.

  No, make that probably.

  Or should I say definitely?

  I pushed whatever thoughts were trying to form in my mind away and cleaned up the dinner I had just put out. I left out a small portion for myself then put the rest in containers and placed them in the refrigerator. Dylan would be hungry later so it wouldn't go to waste.

  I went upstairs and grabbed the throw from the foot of the bed then carefully covered Dylan with it—and managed to do it without staring at him.

  At least, without staring too much.

  I finished my own dinner then cleaned up, my mind moving at warp speed as I did. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew what I needed to do. It's what I should have done two weeks ago. The fact that I hadn't already told me I was in over my head.

  I just wondered if I could actually go through with it, or if it was already too late for me. Even if that was the case, I still had to leave—

  No matter how hard it was going to be.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Morgan

  "Looks like your hockey boy finally found his hustle, cher. No idea what you're doing but keep doing it."

  I glanced away from the frenzied activity on the ice down below just in time to see the deep flush spreading across Addy's face. She playfully nudged Jacqui in the side then dipped her head.

  "Hush before someone hears you."

  "Look around, cher. Nobody is paying any attention to us. They're too busy discussing politics and business." Jacqui motioned to the small group of older men behind us with a wave of one large hand then re-crossed her legs. True to form, she had on yet another pair of dangerously high heels, this time in a wild zebra pattern that matched her black skirt and patterned blouse. No way could I pull off anything like that but the look totally worked for Jacqui.

  I glanced down at my own outfit and tried not to cringe. I had on a pair of tattered jeans, a plain V-neck shirt, and a pair of sensible tennis shoes. I'd worn all three clothing items before—I hadn't had any choice, considering my limited wardrobe. I'd never been bothered by my clothing choices before but sitting next to Addy and Jacqui, I felt sloppy and out of place. At least the jacket I wore covered most of me. The lined windbreaker was Dylan's, one he insisted I wear to ward off the chill of the rink. The hem reached the middle of my thighs and I had to roll the cuffs of the sleeves a few times so my hands wouldn't be lost but I didn't care. Wearing his jacket made me feel closer to him for some reason, especially since I could smell the faintest hint of his essence on it if I closed my eyes and breathed in.

  Either that, or I just had a really vivid imagination.

  Yes, I had it bad. Worse than I'd first thought, in fact. Normally I'd shrug the realization away but tonight, I decided to let it play out in my mind. What would the harm be in pretending that we were really a couple, just for one night? It was so easy to imagine, especially si
nce I was in the owner's box watching Dylan's game. I still had no idea what I was watching but for this particular dream, that didn't matter. For now, and later tonight, I was part of something bigger than just myself.

  A hand waved in front of my face and I jerked back as the unfolding dream shattered. I turned and noticed that both women were watching me with similar expressions of amusement on their faces.

  "Just making sure you were still with us, cher."

  "Of course, I am. I'm here, right?"

  "Maybe you are, but your mind is a million miles away."

  I grabbed the cup resting in the holder in front of me and took a quick sip, barely tasting the iced tea as it slid down my throat. "I was just watching the game."

  "Cher, there's a break in the play. There's nothing to watch."

  "Oh. I guess I just zoned out a little bit."

  "Obviously."

  Addy leaned around Jacqui, a bright smile on her face as she gave me a playful wink. "I'm sure she's thinking about later tonight and how to celebrate when she and Dylan get home."

  "Celebrate?"

  "Yes. We're winning." Addy pointed to the giant screen hanging above the ice. "See?"

  Heat filled my face when I noticed the score. The Bourdons were winning, two-to-one—something I would have noticed if I'd been paying any attention. I knew they had scored—everyone jumping up and clapping and cheering had been a dead giveaway—but I hadn't realized they were actually winning.

  I slid down in my seat and took another long swallow of my tea. "I hadn't noticed."

  "Obviously. And just in case you were wondering, cher, your hockey boy is playing a good game tonight as well."

  "Oh. That's good." I ignored Jacqui's comment about Dylan being my hockey boy because I totally didn't need to go there. I was happy for Dylan, though, because I knew he'd been worried about the games this weekend. They'd lost last night but it had been during overtime, which was apparently just a little better than losing normally. Not by much, though, which had been evident by everyone's mood after the game, which is why nobody had gone out afterward.

  We were supposed to go out after the game tonight, too, but I had no idea if that would be cancelled or not. If they won, then the plans probably wouldn't change. I kind of hoped we wouldn't be going out later, which was nothing but pure selfishness on my part. I wanted to spend some time with Dylan, just the two of us, before he left at some ungodly hour of the morning tomorrow for his road game.

  Just in case I decided to leave tomorrow. If I was going to do it, tomorrow would be the best time.

  And how sad was it that I was still floundering with my decision? That I was still having dreams of staying?

  Yes, I had it bad. Worse than bad, actually. And that scared the hell out of me. I shouldn't have become so attached so quickly yet I had. What was it about Dylan that made me so completely drop my guard?

  All the more reason to leave.

  Maybe.

  Jacqui waved her hand in front of my face again. Instead of jerking back in surprise like I'd done the first time, I just slowly turned my head to the side and frowned at her.

  "What?"

  "The girl has a bit of sass with her. I think I like it."

  "That wasn't sass."

  "Sass is a good thing, cher. Own it."

  "But I wasn't—"

  Jacqui interrupted me with another short wave of her hand. "Sass is better than the other option."

  "What option is that?"

  Her clear eyes met mine and I knew, just knew, that she could see through me, clear down to what I was thinking and the arguments I was making. Her words confirmed it.

  "Whatever silliness is going on in that scattered brain of yours."

  "It's nothing."

  "Mm-hm. If you say so."

  "I say so."

  Addy leaned around Jacqui again, her gaze moving between us. "What are you two talking about?"

  "Nothing, cher. I was just getting ready to say that both of you are in serious need of a crash course on hockey. I don't understand how either one of you can be involved with a hockey player yet be so embarrassingly illiterate of the sport."

  I opened my mouth to tell Jacqui that I wasn't involved with Dylan then quickly snapped it shut under the look she pinned me with. Her expression silently dared me to contradict her, something I had no intention of doing.

  Addy either didn't notice our silent exchange or she chose to ignore it. Since she was staring down at the ice, I had a feeling it was the former. "Nathan gave me a book to read."

  "A book. How wonderful." Jacqui's voice dripped with dry sarcasm and I had to smother the sudden laughter that wanted to break free. She quirked one sculpted brow in my direction. "This is hardly time for laughter, cher. You should both be embarrassed."

  "But—"

  "At least Adelaide knows what position Nathan plays. Can you say the same?"

  No, I couldn't—and Jacqui knew it. I could have told her it didn't matter since Dylan and I weren't together and that I was leaving anyway, but I didn't. Even if I had wanted to tell her, she didn't give me the chance.

  "Defense. He's a defenseman for the Bourdons. That means his primary responsibility is keeping the other team from scoring."

  I nodded, like I knew exactly what she was talking about. Her dramatic eyeroll was so overboard that I didn't bother to hide my laughter.

  "You two are such an embarrassment."

  "How do you know so much about hockey?"

  "I lived in New York, cher. I was all about sports back then, thanks to having them shoved down my throat by my father."

  "You don't strike me as the sports type."

  Jacqui waved her hand in quick dismissal then shifted in the seat. A small smile played around her mouth but I didn't miss the shadows that crossed her eyes. "It was a lifetime ago and I was a different person back then, cher. But I did manage to keep some of the enjoyment and knowledge that was so repeatedly hammered home to me. And now I feel obligated to share that knowledge with both of you."

  I shook my head. "I don't—"

  "That would be wonderful!" Addy interrupted. "We can start tomorrow. We should do brunch first then we can have another girls' day, just like we did a few weeks ago."

  I started to shake my head again but Jacqui silenced both of us and pointed at the ice. "Hockey boy has a breakaway."

  I turned back to the ice and squinted my eyes, like that would somehow magically help me understand what was going on. All I saw was a bunch of men scrambling on skates, chasing after a lone player heading toward the opposite end of the rink. The purple jersey let me know that it was one of Dylan's teammates but I couldn't see who because the arena lights reflected off the gold lame name and number. Not that I'd know who it was anyway, since I didn't really know any of his teammates.

  Addy and Jacqui both jumped to their feet. A second later, Jacqui's large hand closed over my wrist and pulled me to a standing position. "Watch, cher. He's going to score."

  I nodded. Maybe I didn't know anything about hockey, but at least I knew that was a good thing.

  I kept my eyes on the purple blur, surprised that my pulse was racing in spite of me holding my breath. I silently laughed at myself and exhaled, then leaned toward Jacqui to ask who it was. Nathan, probably, considering how closely she and Addy were paying attention.

  The player slid to a stop then twisted to the left. I had no idea what he'd done, didn't even see his stick move, but the red light above the net flashed on and the sound of a loud horn filled the arena.

  Addy clapped her hands and started jumping up and down. Even Jacqui did a little bounce thing, which I thought was pretty impressive considering the heels she had on. Caught up in their excitement—and the excitement of the small crowd around us—I started clapping as well. I leaned around Jacqui and tapped on Addy's shoulder.

  "Congratulations!"

  She frowned at me, her silent question obvious. I motioned back to the ice and pointed with one hand. "That wa
s Nathan, right?"

  Addy and Jacqui both stared at me as if I'd grown a second head and started reciting Shakespeare in pig Latin. I looked at them, then at the ice, then back at them. They were still staring at me with identical expressions of bewilderment on their faces.

  Addy finally shook her head and I got the feeling she thought I was joking. "No, silly. That was Dylan."

  "It was?"

  "Oh, cher. We really do need to work on those lessons." Jacqui draped her arm around my shoulders. "Tomorrow. Tonight, you just make sure you help him celebrate appropriately."

  Chapter Twenty

  Dylan

  Holy shit, we won. I still couldn't believe it. I had a feeling most of the other guys had that same sense of disbelief, too, despite Coach's words of approval in the locker room. More than a month into regular season, and we finally played a game we could be proud of.

  We were out celebrating, this time at a fancier restaurant instead of one of our usual haunts in the Quarter. I couldn't remember who had suggested the place near the arena, or why we had all agreed on it. For all I knew, maybe we were just riding the high of not being total screw-ups for one night. Whatever the reason, we were here now and I could tell Morgan was a little uncomfortable. The place didn't have a dress code but we were all in suits. Jacqui, as usual, was in one of her outrageously noticeable outfits and Addy looked as put together as she usually did. As far as I was concerned, Morgan looked perfect in her tattered jeans and simple shirt but something told me she didn't agree. She kept pulling my windbreaker more tightly around her as she slid glances around us, like she was waiting for someone to come up and say something to her.

  Nobody was going to do something so foolish. And if someone did happen to be stupid enough to try to say something, they'd have to deal with me first. I wasn't about to tell Morgan that. I might be a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them.

  I slid my chair and inch or two closer and draped my arm around her shoulders. The move was totally possessive and more than a few of my teammates noticed. Luke and Tristan both smirked and I was pretty sure Luke was going to make some comment about it so I glared at him in silent warning. That only made him laugh so I kicked out with my foot and caught him in the shin.