Delay of Game (San Francisco Strikers Book 3)

Home > Other > Delay of Game (San Francisco Strikers Book 3) > Page 11
Delay of Game (San Francisco Strikers Book 3) Page 11

by Stephanie Kay


  “Let’s hope this ankle cooperates,” he said.

  “It will. You’re making great progress. I think you’ll be back on the ice in a couple of weeks. Not fully skating, of course, but we’re getting there.”

  “I do have a great PTA,” he said, barely resisting the urge to lean in and kiss her.

  The soft blush staining her cheeks was doing a number on his willpower, but he would show her that he listened to her. Not to mention that his chances of getting her to agree to go on a date with him would be much higher if he kept his mouth off of hers in the office.

  “Aside from Brandon, does your family come to a lot of your games?”

  “Nope. They’re up in Calgary, so they don’t make too many trips down. I’m hoping to get up there to visit before the season starts. I usually spend my summers up there.” And he needed to get up there sooner rather than later. To find out exactly what was going on with his parents.

  “Why didn’t you rehab up in Calgary this summer?”

  “Because Dr. Anders is the best, and getting back on the ice in time for the season has to be my top priority.” Although, every time he talked to his sister, he regretted that decision. He should be home, keeping a watchful eye on his father. But a larger part of him was glad he’d stayed. He never would’ve spent this much time with Sophia if he was rehabbing at home. He just hoped that decision didn’t end up biting him in the ass.

  Chapter 10

  “Grab the ravioli, would you, Soph?” her mother called out Sunday afternoon. Lanzi’s was closed from three to four every Sunday afternoon, so they could have a family dinner—or family interrogation, as Sophia lovingly called it—before the crowds showed up to celebrate their own Sunday night family dinners.

  For Sophia and her siblings, Sunday dinner was a requirement, and they were always scheduled to work Sunday night. There was no getting out of family time if you had to work a shift an hour later. She’d gotten out of it once, maybe twice in her life. Sometimes she wished for the flu again just to stay curled up on her couch and binge on Netflix.

  “What’s in this one tonight?” Elena, her youngest sister asked, when Sophia placed the overflowing bowl of pasta on the table in the private back room.

  The seasonal ravioli filling changed every week. Lanzi’s had a traditional menu, for the most part, but her father liked to add different specials every week. Another way to keep people coming back for more.

  “I think spicy sausage and sun-dried tomato. It’s delicious,” Sophia said, popping another piece in her mouth when her mother wasn’t looking. She’d snagged the first piece in the kitchen. The flavor burst on her tongue, the red pepper hitting her at the end.

  “Damn, is my mouth going to blaze?”

  “Such a baby,” Sophia teased. Elena was a total wimp with spice, but Sophia loved it. The spicier the better.

  “Oh, shut it. Not all of us enjoy burning off our taste buds. Some of us like to keep them around so we can enjoy the next dish,” Elena said.

  “Pair it with the creamy Romano sauce, to calm your sensitive palate,” Sophia shot back.

  “It’s not sensitive. It’s refined,” Elena boasted.

  “It’s boring, is what it is,” Cat, their middle sister said, and Sophia nodded.

  Elena stuck her tongue out at her sisters.

  “Stop acting like children,” her mother admonished, catching Elena with her tongue out.

  “Soph started it,” Elena grumbled.

  “Sophia, be nice to your little sister,” her mother said.

  “Mom. We aren’t kids. Stop showing your favoritism for the baby,” Sophia said, sticking her tongue out at Elena as soon as her mother turned her back on them.

  “Soph, Cat, come bring the rest out,” their father called out from the kitchen.

  “It’s like he knows when we’re teasing the baby,” Cat whispered, and Sophia stifled a laugh, as they headed back into the kitchen.

  Ten minutes later, they were sitting down to a feast. All of the night’s specials were on the table, along with each of their favorites. How better to describe the food to their guests than to have tasted it only an hour before? The rest of the staff—the family—would trickle in soon, grabbing a plate and trying out the new dishes, but for the next twenty minutes, it was just the five of them. Sophia loved this time—for the most part.

  “I’m so happy to have all my girls here,” her father said, pressing a kiss to the top of Sophia’s head, then taking the seat next to her.

  Cat rolled her eyes. “Pop, we are here almost every day with you.” She shook her head. “I’m still not sure how you managed to get my senior internship approved to work in your kitchen.”

  “Maybe I’ve known your advisor for years. Maybe he has a weak spot for my crab and asparagus ravioli.”

  “I can’t believe you bribed him with pasta,” Cat burst out, although they’d known full-well that her father had nudged Cat’s advisor into accepting her internship location.

  Cat was starting her final year of culinary school in the next two weeks and had already started spending more time in the kitchen. But Sophia still hadn’t requested a reduction in her hours. She tried to get an extra day off each week to wean them off her always being in the restaurant, and it’d worked more weeks than not. Hopefully her father would see that she wasn’t needed full-time.

  “I cannot help that people love my food. And you are going to run this kitchen when I’m gone, so it’s good to start now. Be ready for full-time when you graduate. Not that you needed to go to school for something you’ve been doing since you could reach the knobs on the stove.”

  “Don’t remind us. She lost a few inches of hair that day,” her mother said, with a shudder.

  At the tender age of seven, Cat had turned on the stove, and one of her braids had gotten too close to the flames. Luckily their father had snatched her away, but they’d had to cut four inches off her hair. Sophia would never forget that smell. Sometimes the memory of that came rushing back to her—especially when she was at home cooking.

  “I know. I know. And I’m ready, but you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon,” Cat said.

  “Damn right, I’m not. You need to learn all of my secrets before you get this kitchen as your own.”

  “Aren’t they in Grandma’s recipe book?” Sophia asked, grinning when her father glared at her.

  “Not everything is in her book. She didn’t write everything down. We tweak it. Make it ours.”

  “And add love,” all three sisters said at the same time.

  “Smart mouths, all of you. Love is very important,” he said, grinning across the table at his wife.

  It was adorable and gross at the same time. One day Sophia hoped to be that lucky. But her track record begged to differ. But she didn’t want to think about Tony—or the possibility of him returning to her life in the not so distant future. She still hadn’t heard from him or anything new from her mother, and she definitely wasn’t going to ask for any information about him.

  “You are going to stay to help out Sophia tonight, right? Becky’s training behind the bar with her brother for a few hours,” their father said, pulling Sophia from her downward spiral.

  “Sure. I wanted to talk to Auntie about a new inventory tracking software I’ve been reading up on, but of course I’ll help with hostess duties,” Elena said. Sophia tried not to bristle as her father beamed.

  She didn’t want this job, but the praise her parents gave to her sisters rankled at times. She wasn’t jealous, but just wished they would praise her accomplishments, even if they were outside of the restaurant.

  “I don’t know about new software. What’s wrong with what we have?” her father asked.

  “It’s like a hundred years old, and we can streamline. Make it faster to do all the paperwork and orders. Don’t you hate that stuff, Papa?” Elena gave her father that look. That don’t you trust your baby girl look that she’d perfected since birth. Sophia didn’t miss Cat’s barely muffl
ed chuckle across the table.

  “I like our system. It still works.” He was softening.

  “Yes. But this one is better and more cost-effective. And you get a free sixty-day trial, so if it doesn’t work, we can keep the old system,” Elena said, going in for the kill.

  “Fine. Talk to Aunt Caroline. But she has the final say.” He tried to sound stern, but everyone at the table knew that Elena would have that new inventory software installed within the week.

  “Great. And as soon as I’m done talking with Auntie, I’ll help Sophia out at the hostess stand.”

  Which meant Sophia would be on her own for most of the night while everyone else did the jobs they loved. Not that she was bitter about it or anything.

  “I’m starving,” Nathan’s voice broke through Sophia’s thoughts, and she turned to watch part of her extended family walk into the back room of the restaurant.

  “You’re always hungry,” Keira, Nathan’s twin shot back.

  “I’m a growing boy,” Nathan said, patting his small chest as he stopped next to Sophia’s father for a quick hug, before darting his gaze toward the desserts Sophia’s mom was bringing out.

  “Did Uncle Grant teach you that move?” Lily asked her son, then looked over her shoulder at her brother, who was following behind with his girlfriend Lexi and Lexi’s daughter, Abby.

  “It’s true. We are growing boys,” Grant said, patting his stomach. Lexi rolled her eyes and headed straight for a plate of tiramisu already set out on a side table.

  “Sure, sure. You better save some of that for me,” Sophia said, pushing back her chair. Grant pulled her up to standing and gave her a hug.

  “Quick, Nathan, grab what you can before I release her,” Grant said, with a laugh.

  “Not funny,” she grumbled, pulling free of his arms. “And Lexi would never forgive you if you took that entire plate of tiramisu.”

  “You got that right,” Lexi said, before shoving a forkful of her favorite dessert in her mouth.

  “I think she stays with me for my mom’s dessert,” he said, giving Sophia a quick squeeze before taking a seat next to his girlfriend.

  “Can you blame her? Hi honey,” Aunt Rose said, giving Sophia a hug, then looking back at her son. “She’s got great taste—in dessert.”

  A few family members chuckled at that. Lexi’s love for dessert was well-known. And her great love of Aunt Rose’s dessert had endeared her to the family. While they’d only been together for just over a year, Sophia wondered how long it would take her cousin to put a ring on Lexi’s finger. There hadn’t been a wedding in the family in ages.

  “How’s that new job going?” Aunt Rose asked, as she took the seat next to Sophia and handed her a piece of tiramisu. It was Aunt Rose’s grandmother’s recipe and had become a staple at the restaurant since Rose had married Uncle John over twenty years ago.

  “It’s so amazing, Auntie,” Sophia said, trying to ignore her father’s narrowed gaze, before he muttered something and headed for the kitchen.

  “Ignore his blusters,” her aunt said.

  Sophia swallowed her first bite of dessert, but it was tasteless in her mouth. She hated how he looked at her, like she was disappointing him by wanting to work outside of the restaurant.

  “Look at me, Sophia Marie,” her aunt ordered, putting a finger under Sophia’s chin so she had to break her gaze with the tiramisu that no longer looked appetizing. “He’ll come around. He wants what’s best for you.”

  Sophia snorted. “Yeah, as long as what’s best for me is working here.”

  “No. Right now he just wants you here. He’s always wanted his entire family working at the restaurant. He wants you to love it as much as he does and to continue the family name. But he also wants you to be happy. He’s just set in his ways. He blusters now, but he’ll understand.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “If you don’t tell him, you’ll work yourself ragged between both jobs, and that’s not good for anyone, including your patients.” There was no pity in her aunt’s gaze, just support and encouragement.

  “I know. It’s just not easy.” She tried to hide the whininess in her tone, hating how she sounded. She was an adult, dammit. She should stand up to her father and tell him she wanted to quit. Yet, something stopped her every time. His disappointment.

  “I know. And when the time is right, you will tell him. Just don’t burn yourself out at both ends before that happens. You’re young. You should be working and having a life. Bet you can’t do much, aside from working and sleeping, at this point. It leaves no time for dating, that’s for sure.”

  Sophia looked at her dessert and shoved a forkful in her mouth. She would not think of Finn and how every time she saw him, she wondered if he’d ask her out again. He appeared to be respecting her wishes to keep everything professional, and it was frustrating as hell. Every time he leaned close during an exercise, it took everything she had not to lean in and kiss him.

  She fought back the heat in her cheeks, taking a quick gulp of water and coughing as it went down the wrong tube.

  “Sophia.” Her aunt dragged out her name. “Is there something you want to share?”

  “What? No. Just went down the wrong pipe,” she said, hoping the cold water had cooled down her cheeks. Thinking about Finn’s kisses—and almost kisses—never failed to heat her up.

  “Interesting,” Rose said. “I can’t wait to hear about him.”

  “There’s no him. I told you, wrong pipe.”

  “Sure, sure. You’ll tell us when you’re ready. In the meantime, think about what I said. You need to follow your dreams, and your family will love you regardless. We just want what’s best, even if some of us think we know what’s best for you.”

  “Thanks, Auntie,” Sophia said, and then Rose pushed back from her chair and took her empty dessert plate into the kitchen.

  At least one family member was on her side. Not that Sophia was jumping up to tell her father she quit. But she would get there.

  Finn was back in the office exercising his ankle the following Friday. “You nervous about getting back on the ice?” Sophia asked.

  “Of course not,” he said, but he was lying through his teeth. He hadn’t been on the ice, or had skates on his feet, in over twelve weeks. He was nervous as hell that he’d step one skate on the ice and fall over before leaving the boards. He’d built up his strength and muscle over the last six weeks, but being on the ice was different. There was only so much he could do in a PT office. The true test would be on the ice, and he both looked forward to and dreaded that moment.

  “It’ll be fine. You’re all healed up, and you’ve stuck to our recommendations, so I bet you’ll sail across that ice like you’ve never left,” she said, as he worked through one final set of stretches.

  He would not puff up his chest at her confidence in him, but it warmed him through. “You just want me back on the ice to help the team. You know, since I’m your favorite player,” he teased, loving the slight flush that tinged her cheeks when he brought that fact up.

  “You don’t need to keep mentioning that,” she grumbled.

  “When our appointments are over, you can come to my place for dinner and bring your jersey so I can sign it,” he said.

  “Just had to throw that in there, didn’t you?” she teased, but her heart raced, knowing he still wanted her.

  “What?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to have dinner with you.”

  He dropped the resistance band to the floor and rose, catching her in his arms before she could back up, his thumb running over her hand.

  “Finn,” she trailed off.

  “You want to have dinner with me,” he said, his face an inch from hers, waiting for her to make the next move. Praying that she would make that move.

  And then her lips met his, a soft gasp escaping as she molded her equally soft curves into his body. He could drown in the taste of her. He bit back a groan as her fingers sank into his hair, gripping
the strands, the pull having a direct link to his cock. He wanted to shamelessly rub up against her, but he didn’t want to come on too strong and have her push him away. He wasn’t ready to relinquish her lips just yet.

  “Finn, we should stop,” she muttered against his lips, still not breaking their connection. Her protest was weak as she sealed her lips against his again, and softly moaned.

  He smiled, his hands skating down her spine. He relished her tremble under his touch. His tongue tested the seam of her lips, and she parted on a gasp, her body sinking further into his as his tongue plunged into her mouth. He deepened the kiss, her tongue dueling with his as they consumed each other. He groaned as her fingers tightened in his hair, before sliding down to scrape along his neck.

  Then it was his turn to shudder.

  She broke the kiss, her hands still anchored in his hair, her breath coming in short pants that matched his. “Seriously. We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered, raw desire in her voice that set every inch of him on edge.

  “I know. But you want to.” He tried to keep the pleading out of his voice, willing her to give in, but knowing that it was not the right place, no matter how much he wanted to hoist her up on the exam table.

  “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do this here.”

  That here was a lifeline he’d gladly cling to.

  “But you’d be willing to take this out of the office?”

  He didn’t miss the deepening flush in her cheeks.

  “Finn, my job is important to me.” He loved the stern tone in her voice. Would she use that in the bedroom? If—no, when—they finally got there? He took in a deep breath and stepped back, running one finger down her soft cheek. Now was not the time for those thoughts.

  “I know it is, and you’ve been amazing. I’m getting back on the ice next week, on time. That’s what I wanted, and I wouldn’t have gotten there without you, but you can’t deny there’s something between us.” He’d resort to pleading if he had to—and he’d never had to before, but something told him she was worth it.

 

‹ Prev