Delay of Game (San Francisco Strikers Book 3)

by Stephanie Kay

  “Squirmed, huh? How’d that feel?”

  “Oh my god, stop. I wasn’t even thinking that way.”

  “You’re a big fat liar, Sophia Marie Lanzi.”

  “Don’t you middle name me,” she grumbled. “I’m not lying.”

  Shit. She was totally lying.

  “Do you have to shift your body weight to stay balanced?” Harty called out as Finn pedaled on the bike Wednesday afternoon. He was making a concentrated effort not to lean forward.

  “What are you talking about, Harty?” Finn called out to his teammate, Ethan Hartnell, known to everyone as Harty.

  “You know, because one of your legs shrunk from you vegging out for the last three months.”

  “Did Cheesy tell you to say that? I swear, that guy has no other chirps,” Finn barked out across the gym, ignoring their captain’s shout of outrage. “Just calling it like I see it, Cheesy.”

  They were working out at the gym in Finn’s building since a few of the guys lived here and it was mostly empty in the middle of a weekday. They could throw cheap shots at each other while they worked out, and then head out for a beer.

  “And you,” Finn called out to Harty. “You better double your workout. How much pasta did you eat on your trip? Beady will rip you a new one if you aren’t in fighting shape by training camp,” Finn said, referring to the team’s conditioning coach. Nicknames were usually based on a player’s last name, but their conditioning coach had earned the name Beady because of his eyes. Always darting around, taking everything in, watching every move they made during training and workouts. It was nerve-wracking.

  Harty lifted up his shirt and grinned. “I’m in perfect shape. I burned off all the pasta.”

  Finn laughed. He was happy for the guy. Harty had just gotten back from a month-long trip around Europe with his girlfriend, ending in Italy, where they’d originally met in a story that Finn still didn’t have all the details on.

  “I can’t believe you got her to go away for that long. Amanda is still shocked,” Cheesy said.

  “You’re telling me,” Harty said, his love for his girlfriend clear on his face.

  “Ugh. Harty has that look on his face. It’s sickeningly sweet,” Sully said, walking into the gym, the door swinging shut behind him.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being in love,” Cheesy said.

  “There’s nothing right with it, either,” Sully grumbled.

  “How is Sara doing, anyway?” Harty asked, taunting his linemate.

  “This has nothing to do with her. You’re just turning into a sap,” Sully stated, then jumped on the treadmill two spots down from Harty.

  “She’s still dating someone else, and Sully is cranky,” Finn said, ignoring his friend’s glare. The man was getting ridiculous.

  “Sorry, man,” Harty said.

  “How’s PT going?” Sully asked, ignoring Harty.

  “Not bad. Getting my strength back. Not ready for the ice yet, but it’s only been two weeks, so hopefully in another three weeks, I’ll be able to at least put my skates on.”

  “That’s great, man,” Harty said, slowing the treadmill to a stop and heading over to the weights next to Cheesy.

  “I’m still waiting to hear about the hot PT assistant at Dr. Anders’ office that Boosh mentioned. He didn’t get to experience her hands-on care because she’d just started, and he was done with rehab,” Sully said.

  Finn bit back the red that glazed his eyes. “Leave it.”

  “What? I heard she’s curvy and gorgeous as hell,” Sully continued.

  “You’re really turning into an asshole, Sully,” Cheesy said.

  “And she’s related, well, almost related to your friend, Adam.”

  “No way?”

  Finn took a calming breath. “The new PT assistant is Sophia Lanzi. I’m really sure Adam would love to hear you talk about his girlfriend’s cousin like that.”

  “Sophia Lanzi, huh?” Sully asked.

  “No. Stay away from her,” Finn said. He instantly regretted mentioning her by name and warning Sully away as he caught Sully’s narrowed, and way too inquisitive, expression.

  “Why, because you want her?” Sully asked.

  “What? No. She’s helping me rehab. And she’s nice. And you are not right now.”

  “Well this is interesting,” Harty said, resting his arm on the treadmill next to Sully.

  “Nothing’s interesting. He’s just being an asshole and she’s related to our friend.” Not that Finn knew Adam all that well, but Sully had played in the AHL with the guy and Adam’s bar was the Strikers’ unofficial hangout.

  And now he was thinking about her. Not that he wasn’t thinking about her more often than not. He’d even thought that he’d spotted her on Sunday near the park, the day after he’d collided with her thanks to Bash. But he couldn’t be sure, and by the time he’d left the dog park, she was gone.

  Shit. Now he was seeing her everywhere. He hadn’t even brought it up at their appointment on Monday. He hadn’t known how to bring it up without it sounding weird, like he was looking for her. He’d ignored the sparks that shot through his body when she touched his ankle. They rivaled the electromagnetic pulses that the therapy machine set off in him. He ordered himself to only focus on his recovery—the only thing that truly mattered right now.

  And he was making progress, no longer holding onto walls while on the stability ball. He’d even added in weights while he balanced. His ankle still wobbled, but he was getting stronger. But even with the progress, he was still frustrated. He wanted to get back on the ice. To make sure his skating was even better than before his injury, and to make sure his body was ready for training camp next month.

  Thankfully he hadn’t done any additional damage after crashing into her last weekend. He’d elevated his leg whenever he’d had the chance, and by Monday all the swelling was gone.

  “He’s right about that,” Cheesy said, and Finn focused on his teammates. Thinking about Sophia wouldn’t get him anywhere.

  “Fine,” Sully grumbled and ramped up the speed on his treadmill.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date I can’t miss,” Finn said, wiping his brow with his towel.

  “I knew you were hooking up with Sophia. Tut. Tut. You’re her patient,” Sully said, waving his finger. Finn glared at his teammate, secretly hoping the man would lose his balance and sail off the treadmill.

  “Shut up. It’s with Molly. FaceTime dinner date every week since I can’t head home this summer.”

  “That’s adorable. You should tell Sophia about your date with your niece. Women love that shit,” Sully said, still unfortunately upright on the treadmill.

  “Ignore him. He’s a grumpy douche these days,” Cheesy said, ignoring Sully’s indignation.

  Finn chuckled. “Maybe I’ll tell Sara about my dates. Bet she’d want to join us for dinner one night. We could exchange recipes.”

  Sully muttered a string of expletives as he gripped the handrails, almost faceplanting on the machine.

  “My work here is done,” Finn said, heading for the door as Sully cursed him, and Harty and Cheesy laughed.

  ***

  “Uncle Ewic, you’re late,” Molly’s voice came through Finn’s phone right before her face popped up on the screen. Her pale blue eyes were serious, her blonde curls bouncing as she scolded him.

  “I’m sorry, peanut, the chicken took longer to cook than I thought it would,” he said, tilting his phone to show her his plate.”

  “Too gween,” she said, and he chuckled as she shuddered.

  “Veggies are good for you,” his sister Grace said, crouching into the shot. “Hey big brother, when are you coming home?”

  “Yes, when?” Molly echoed.

  “I’m still getting better and then I’m hoping to see you before I start hockey again. Maybe sometime in August or early September.”

  “We miss you, Uncle Ewic,” Molly said.

  “I miss you guys, too.” He’d spen
t every summer in Calgary after he’d been drafted. It was weird to go this long without seeing them. “It looks like you started eating without me,” he said, grinning as Molly pursed her sauce-covered lips.

  “You took so long. I was hungwy.”

  He couldn’t stop his laugh. “That’s okay. What did you do today?” he asked, cutting his chicken and popping a bite into his mouth. A little dry. A touch too much salt. He’d tweak the timing next time. It was a new recipe. Skillet chicken with asparagus and heirloom tomatoes in a sherry wine sauce. He’d paired it with couscous and a dry white wine to offset the sweet sherry and tomatoes. He loved trying new recipes. It was only slightly depressing that he was only cooking for one, but sometimes the guys stopped by to act as taste testers.

  “We went to the park with Grandma and Grandpa.” Molly’s voice cut through Finn’s perusal of his plate.

  “Really? Grandpa?” His eyes darted toward his sister, a brow raised in question.

  “Yes. But he didn’t want to stay that long,” Molly continued, oblivious to the tension that held her mother and uncle frozen.

  “Yes. He’s been back for a few months. This is the first time Molly’s seen him,” his sister said. The chicken tasted like sawdust in his mouth.

  Why the hell was his father back and what did he want this time?

  “He gave me an otter. Do you think Grandma told him they’re my favorite?” Molly asked, muting some of Finn’s anger as he turned his attention back to his niece.

  “Did he?”

  She grinned at him. “Yep.”

  Twenty minutes later, after a full account of her visit with her grandparents, a play-by-play of her puppy, also known as Bash’s sister, eating her mom’s favorite shoes, and showing off her new fuzzy unicorn slippers, she started to fade. And as much as he wanted to keep talking to his favorite person in the world, he needed some answers that his sister wouldn’t give him with Molly still on the phone.

  “Looks like someone is ready for bed,” he said.

  “I’m not tired,” she said, with a pout. Damn, he missed them.

  “Yes, you are. Say good night to Uncle,” Grace said.

  After a few grumbles, Molly finally said good night and blew him a kiss.

  “I’ll be up to see you soon, peanut.”

  “You better.” She flashed him one last smile, then disappeared from the screen, and Finn realized that Grace had hung up on him.

  He quickly fired off a text.

  Eric: Call me as soon as she’s in bed.

  Grace: It’s fine, Eric. I’ve got everything handled.

  Eric: Call me.

  Grace: Fine.

  Eric: I’ll call you in an hour if you haven’t called me.

  Grace: Stop being a bully. I’ll call.

  He spent the next forty-five minutes cleaning up the mess he’d made in the kitchen and stewing. Why was his father back? What did he want after all these years? And why the hell hadn’t anyone told him as soon as Jack Finnegan stepped one foot back in Calgary?

  ***

  Fifty-eight minutes later his phone rang.

  “Cutting it close, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Don’t be an ass. Molly wanted me to read three stories to her,” his sister shot back.

  “How long has he been back?”

  “Three months.”

  “Three. Three months? And I had to find out from Molly? What the hell, Grace.”

  “Don’t you dare yell at me. I knew you’d freak, and it was fine. Molly hadn’t met him, and I saw him maybe twice since he got back. Mom showed up at the park with him today. He’d been asking to meet Molly. What were we supposed to do?”

  “Call me so I can come up there.”

  “You are rehabbing and you can’t fix everything. We’re big girls and we can handle him.”

  “Can you?”

  “Eric…” she trailed off, warning in her voice.

  “I know. It’s just…”

  She sighed. “I know. And part of me wishes you were here, and not just because of him. But, you need to stay there. He’ll bail soon. He always does.”

  “And what if he sticks around longer? He’s not a good influence for Molly to be around.”

  “I know how to raise my kid, Eric,” she bit back.

  “I know you do, Grace. I just don’t want Molly to get hurt. And I know how Mom is when he leaves.”

  “We’ll figure it out. And hopefully his visit will be short.”

  “It’s already been three months.”

  “Yeah, so maybe he’ll be gone soon.”

  “I want to know why the hell he’s back to begin with.”

  “Me too,” she said, softly. “And don’t you dare get on a plane.”

  “Keep me updated. And I mean real updates. I don’t want to hear things from Molly.”

  “I promise.”

  A few minutes later he hung up the phone and debated booking a flight immediately, but he didn’t. And then the guilt ramped back up. If he rehabbed faster, he should be able to get up there sooner rather than later. His father being home was never a good thing, and he didn’t want to pick up the pieces again when that asshole bailed on his family.

  Chapter 6

  “One hour. Just one hour and I can climb into my bed and pass out,” Sophia muttered, sneaking into the office at Lanzi’s Wednesday night, a plate of Aunt Rose’s tiramisu in her hand. She plopped down in an empty chair and dug into her dessert. The crowd had died down. Of course it’d been abnormally busy tonight when all she’d wanted to do was have a light and easy night behind the hostess stand.

  What she wouldn’t give for a chair behind that podium, after standing on her feet for most of the day, but there was no way her father would let that slide. Or any restaurant for that matter, so she had kept that wish to herself and fed her pain with a slice—okay, two slices—of tiramisu.

  She’d just polished off her plate when her father poked his head into the room. Dammit.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

  Her feet slipped off the edge of the chair next to her and she took in a breath. “Just taking a break.”

  “You look tired, Sophia,” he said, and she caught a faint hint of concern.

  “I am tired. I worked a full day already and tonight was crazy busy.”

  “You wouldn’t be so tired if you only worked here.”

  “I wouldn’t be happy, either,” she muttered, grabbing her empty plate and standing.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m just tired, but I can do both jobs. Why don’t you understand that my PT job is important to me?” she said, trying to push past him.

  “Yes, yes. But family is important, too.”

  “I’m not saying it’s not.” She did not want to have this conversation tonight. Being tired and arguing with her father was never a good combination. She’d say things she regretted. Like the truth. Not that she didn’t love her family and love the restaurant they’d created. But it wasn’t what she wanted, and when she finally—finally—told her family, it would be with a clear and well-rested head.

  “This is in your blood, Sophia,” he said, stepping aside so she could brush past him.

  “Can we not do this tonight?”

  “Your family is counting on you. I want all of my girls running this restaurant when I’m gone.”

  “Well, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “You don’t know that. I may be healthy as a horse, but you never know.”

  The guilt was brutal. He’d learned it from Sophia’s grandmother, who took guilting to Olympic levels. Sophia hadn’t realized that when she was younger, but as a teenager and then an adult, that guilt was obvious and passed down to the next generation. She had to find a way to break free.

  “What are you both doing back here?” her mother asked, poking her head into the office.

  “Nothing. Just taking a dessert break,” Sophia said, grateful for the interruptio
n.

  “Stay here and I’ll join you,” her mother said, quickly disappearing down the hallway and returning with her own slice of tiramisu.

  “I should probably get back out front,” Sophia said, suddenly nervous to have her parents in front of her with no one else around. Now would be the perfect time to talk to them.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I ran into Anna yesterday. She said Tony might be moving back home,” her mother said.

  Her stomach turned. No. Why was he coming back?

  She’d ended things with him four years ago, and Tony had left her alone for the most part. Aside from random memories and her parents occasionally mentioning how they missed him, he had faded from her life. It was easier this way. Less of a mess. He was supposed to stay in New York, or anywhere but here. She’d liked having an entire country between them. If he moved back, there would be no way to avoid him, but she liked to think she was stronger now than when he left.

  “I miss that boy. He was good for our Sophia,” her father said.

  It killed her not to tell them the truth, but what good would it do? Her family loved her ex, and they managed to bring him up any chance they got. But the boy she’d grown up with, the boy across the street who had stolen her first kiss, wasn’t the boy she, or her family, thought he was. She’d hid that from them and when she’d finally ended things for good, she’d kept her secrets. Nothing good would come from the truth. Tony’s mom and her mom had been friends since elementary school, and their families were deeply interwoven. And what was done, was done. No one would benefit from the truth coming out.

  Her therapist had disagreed with her, but with Tony out of her life, and away from her family, she’d told herself—and her therapist—that it was better to leave it alone. But if he came back. She bit the inside of her cheek, and pushed down the pain and the memories she wished she could escape.

  “He wasn’t right for me. I bet he’s found someone else already.” And he had—a few of them—during their years together. But that had been the least of his offenses. She fought down her pain. “I should get back up front. I bet Becky could use a break,” she said, wanting to escape this conversation immediately.