Garrick grimaced. “God help me.”
Rhian laughed. “I’m kidding. It’ll be fine. Put Rupert next to me. We know each other’s secrets. Maybe that will make him feel better.”
“As long as I get to sit on the other side of you,” Garrick murmured, dark promise in his voice.
Rhian’s mouth fell open. He quickly looked around to be sure no one else could hear them. They were standing in the middle of the ice, for Christ’s sake, and Garrick knew how well sound traveled out here.
He was about to shoot Garrick the mother of all completely silent dirty looks when he caught sight of a lone man sitting in the stands.
“Shit.”
Garrick started to turn. “What?”
Rhian grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t.”
Garrick took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders. “Did someone hear me?” he whispered.
“What?” Rhian had already forgotten about Garrick’s momentary indiscretion. “No, not that. Steve is sitting over there. Tenth row, over the bench.” Easy shouting distance to all our teammates and the coaching staff.
Garrick, who had played in this arena for twelve years, didn’t bother to look. “Shit.”
Rhian forced a bright smile. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“Should we ask him to leave?”
Rhian shook his head. “I think we should ignore him.”
That was what Rhian had been doing for the better part of a week. The time and date for the blackmail drop off had long since come and gone, and he’d continued going about his business as if he’d never seen the note. Maybe Steve thought the wind had ripped it off his windshield?
He looked up at Steve, who stared back, long and hard, before slowly shaking his head.
Yeah, so much for that.
Garrick stood in the bar at Quigley’s and stared slack-jawed at the men walking through the door. He’d stopped by Rupert’s office to invite him out with the guys tonight, and he’d seemed genuinely pleased to accept. Now Rupert stood in the entryway, pink cheeked from the bitter wind blowing outside, and smiled at Reese like an attendant might smile at one of the inmates in the asylum.
Rhian’s elbow sank into Garrick’s ribs.
He nodded. “Yeah, I see it.”
Reese, who had become increasingly comfortable when visiting Garrick at home, was clearly overwhelmed by the noise and crowd in the bar. Garrick approached slowly.
“Gentlemen,” he said loud enough to be heard over the din.
Reese spun around like he’d been goosed. He tried to come up with a smile but only managed a painful grimace.
Rupert appeared downright alarmed. “We should go.”
“No.” Reese sounded like he meant it, even if he looked like he wanted to run screaming.
Garrick glanced back at Rhian at the bar, not surprised he was watching the drama unfold, then searched the restaurant and found just what he needed. He turned to the hostess. “Can we sit about ten of us in the back, Sandy?”
She beamed up at him. “Sure, Garrick. Take forty-three. The booth and whatever tables you need next to it.”
He pointed to the quiet corner of the room and smiled at Reese. “Would that work?”
Reese leaped on that plan like a drowning man, nodding quickly, edging past Garrick with his sights fixed on their table.
“Okay, then,” Garrick said brightly, shooting Rupert a look.
Rupert shrugged. Garrick caught his arm before he could follow Reese. “When was the last time he went out like this?”
Rupert watched Reese closely while he answered. “I’m not sure. It’s been a few years, at least.”
“Did you say years?”
Rupert looked back at him. “Did you miss the part where you went into business with a famous recluse?”
“No, I, uh… I just figured he’d been faking it. He showed up here in Moncton not long after we met.”
“And it was the first time he’d left Nova Scotia in years. Maybe only the tenth time he’d left his property in the past twelve months.”
“Holy shit.”
Before Rupert could respond, Alexei came up and threw a huge arm around Rupert’s shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet. “Boss! I’m so glad you came out with us tonight.”
Rupert staggered in an attempt to remain upright. “I uh…yes, well, thank you very much for inviting me to join you.”
Garrick shot Alexei a look then pointedly stared at his arm until he backed off. He knew Alexei wasn’t trying to frighten Rupert so much as figure out what the hell made him so jumpy. Alexei was probably learning fast, since he was succeeding in pushing all Rupert’s buttons. Rupert became painfully polite and prim when he was nervous or upset, and the fact that he was as white as a sheet was hard to miss.
Rhian and the rest of the guys caught up to them halfway across the restaurant. They made it to the table in one piece and Garrick made introductions, suppressing a sudden fir of nerves that made him want to announce, “And this is Edwin Lamont!” They shook hands all around, then sat. Garrick ended up somewhere in the middle, pressed tightly to Rhian—just where he wanted to be—with Rupert and Reese sitting in the corner on Rhian’s other side.
They’d no sooner settled into their seats when the conversation turned to the team and Justin’s trade. He was headed to some team in Bumfuck, Saskatchewan and everyone was going on and on about how sorry they felt for him and his family.
Garrick wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. What the fuck had he been thinking, setting this up? He should be home working, not pretending that every one of his teammates—except Rhian, by some miracle—wasn’t going to fucking hate him.
He fought like hell to keep his face blank, not even wincing at Rupert and Rhian’s blatant and unsuccessful attempts to steer the conversation elsewhere. The only thing that made Garrick feel better was Rhian’s leg wrapped around his under the table, the steady pressure a constant reminder of his support.
Garrick sat silently while the conversation slowly gutted him, ignoring Rhian’s furiously whispered exchange with Rupert. He couldn’t imagine what the hell the two of them were discussing.
When Tim, Dave, and Chris went to the bar to get another round for the table, Rhian shoved against him, forcing him out of the booth.
“Where are you going?” Garrick asked, squashing his panic that Rhian was leaving him alone. He wondered where the hell he’d left his big-boy pants. Jesus.
“We’re going to the bathroom. Come on.” Rhian walked away without checking to see if he followed.
Garrick trailed after him like a dutiful girlfriend who wouldn’t leave her sister-in-arms to pee alone. He could only imagine what the hell the guys thought about this.
It was a damn good thing no one was in the hallway to see Rhian shove him into the unisex handicap bathroom and lock the door behind them.
Rhian might be the sexiest man Garrick had ever laid eyes on—let alone lips and hands—but no way in hell was Garrick up for getting it on in the bar bathroom tonight. It wasn’t a matter of principle. Hell no. It was a matter of feeling like dog crap about keeping this stupid fucking secret. He couldn’t get it up if he tried.
Rhian folded his arms across his chest and stared Garrick down.
Guess they weren’t here to get freaky after all.
“You need to tell them.”
Garrick shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. According to Rupert, you can tell anyone you want that you’re one of the new owners—you’re just not allowed to tell them who the others are. You have to tell them. You can’t pretend this isn’t awful.”
Simultaneously touched and humiliated, Garrick started to protest that he was fine, but Rhian’s hand on his cheek stalled the words.
Rhian was right. This was fucking killing him.
“I can’t tell them. Not now.”
“Why not?”
The concern in Rhian’s voice was almost his undoing, but his pride would never
survive crying in the Quigley’s Bar and Grill lavatory. He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to make a scene.”
“What scene? Why would there be a scene?”
“They’re going to be pissed. I’ll be lucky if all they do is get up and leave.”
“I don’t get it, Garrick. Everyone out there has been traded at least once. They know how it works.”
They didn’t have families. A little girl who would miss her friends. Who might be angry with her father for something he couldn’t control.
Garrick had done the right thing, what he’d needed to do. But he didn’t want to see the guys’ faces when they learned he’d gone from being their friend to the man who could—and would, if he had to—send them away.
Their boss.
He was, he accepted with a tired shrug, a complete chickenshit.
He didn’t look at Rhian when he unlocked the door and headed for the table.
Alexei’s booming laugh carried across the room and Garrick looked up to see everyone watched them approach. He slapped a smile on his face and slid into the booth behind Rhian, who promptly wrapped his calf around Garrick’s shin again.
The conversation swirled around him while he counted the minutes until he could go home. All he wanted was call Savannah, tell her he loved her, then curl into bed with as many parts of his body pressed to as many of Rhian’s body as he could manage.
They believed in him. Had never so much as blinked in their faith that Garrick had done the right thing. And soon they’d both be several hundred miles away.
Garrick turned to Rhian and spoke softly, so only he could hear. “I’m going to miss you.”
Rhian’s lips parted and he blinked a few times before he looked at Garrick. Garrick turned back to the table. This wasn’t the time, or the place. And hell, he probably shouldn’t have said it anyway, but he’d needed to. He wanted Rhian to know.
It wasn’t long before the subject returned to the new owners and Justin’s trade, yet again. Rhian didn’t try to change the subject. Neither did Rupert. Or Reese.
“Wait.” The word left Garrick’s mouth before he’d really accepted what he was about to do.
Everyone looked at him. Rhian smiled encouragingly. Hell, so did Rupert.
Garrick’s heart was pounding, but he blurted out the truth. “I’m one of the new owners of the Ice Cats. I’m one of the partners.”
Absolute silence fell over the table. No one moved, except Rhian, whose leg tightening against Garrick’s, pressing his calf to the booth. It was his only anchor.
Chris was the first to break the shocked silence. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes,” Garrick said, his voice calm in spite of the tug of nausea in his gut. He remembered all the shit they’d slung about the new owners in front of him. Judging by the looks on their faces, they were recalling the same thing. Too bad there was no going back. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t realize…” Hell, he hadn’t realized a lot of things. That the deal would take this long to finalize. That he’d feel like such an asshole. That he’d have to send their friend to fucking Saskatchewan.
“You’re sorry?” Tim asked.
Dave stared at Garrick, his face red. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Chris and Dave jumped to their feet. Tim rose more slowly.
“Where are you going?” Rhian demanded.
Garrick slammed a hand on Rhian’s arm to keep him in his seat. Regret churned in his stomach.
“Home,” Chris grunted. “I’m suddenly not in the mood to celebrate.” He sent Garrick a disgusted look, then nodded to Rhian. “Congratulations, man.”
Then he left. Dave followed him without a word. Tim watched them go before looking back at Garrick.
“Sorry, man. You just…you surprised us.”
Garrick nodded.
“Anyway, ummm…” Tim hesitated, waving over his shoulder. “Dave’s my ride. I gotta go.”
“Sure,” Garrick hardly recognized the dull voice as his own.
He watched Tim weave through the tables, then finally found the balls to face Mike and Alexei.
Garrick almost jumped out of his seat when Alexei’s huge hand pounded on the table, their glasses rattling. “This explains why you’ve had a giant hockey stick up your ass for last month, no?”
Garrick ignored the loud guffaw from Reese.
“Pardon me?”
Mike smiled ruefully. “What he’s trying to say,” he began, blatantly kicking his friend’s shin under the table, “is that we’d noticed you’d been acting differently.”
Alexei glared at Mike. “What? This is what I said.”
Garrick’s lips twitched, tempted toward a smile, but he knew the worst was yet to come. He might as well get it all out on the table. “You have to understand. I’m the one who traded Justin.”
Alexei cocked his head. “This was a good decision?”
“It was.”
Mike pursed his lips. “Sucks, huh?”
Garrick hesitated. “Yeah.”
“And this decision, you made it because you want Justin gone and are a total asshole? Or because it’s best for the team?” Alexei asked.
Rhian grinned, his eyes shining with I told you so.
Garrick slumped back in his seat and took a long pull from his beer, all the while shooting Alexei a dirty look. “It’s best for the team, of course.”
“And your partners, they let you make decisions without them? Without Rupert here?”
“No, of course not.”
“And Lamont, he’s an idiot?”
No one appeared more interested in his answer than Reese, who cocked one brow and stared at Garrick with a big smile.
Garrick’s lips twitched. “No, of course not. But I made the decision.”
Alexei nodded once. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. And congratulations. You going to keep skating?”
“No. I’m retiring at the end of the season.”
“That’s a shame.” Mike shook Garrick’s hand. “Congrats, though.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Mike leaned in. “So, can I ask a question?”
“Uh...sure. What’s that?”
“What’s it like working with that crazy old coot Lamont?”
Rupert choked on an ill-timed sip of ale as Reese’s booming laugh rang out over the crowd.
Garrick found he had a genuine smile, in spite of what had happened that night. “Let’s just say he’s not at all who you expect him to be.”
Chapter Twenty One
Rhian shifted against the hard seat of his car, acutely aware of the sting in his ass every time he moved, but unable to sit still. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable. The issue was more that he loved it.
Last night they’d left the bar within five minutes of each other so Rhian could chase Garrick back to his house. He’d barely made it in the door before Garrick was tearing his clothes off, their headlong stumble toward the stairs only getting as far as the dining room before Garrick, who had apparently planned for just such an eventuality, bent him over the dining room table, shoved two lubed fingers up his ass, and stretched his eager muscles just enough to accommodate Garrick’s thick cock.
Rhian had ended up with one knee on the table top, spread wide and begging. A grunt had burst from him with every hard thrust, his hands skittering across the high-gloss surface for enough purchase to hold still while Garrick made them both howl.
The sex had been phenomenal. Garrick had wrapped himself around Rhian and whispered “thank you, thank you, thank you,” with every deep thrust, pounding his gratitude into Rhian. He could only nod and moan until his climax had wiped his mind of everything but the intense satisfaction, the joy, of that moment.
A shiver ran down the back of his neck when he recalled the cool touch of wood against his cheek, while the ever-present ache in his ass zinged up his spine. He’d never been so sated in his life.
The only black spot on the entire n
ight was Chris, Dave, and Tim’s reactions to Garrick’s confession. That had not gone down the way Rhian had thought it would. He intended to have a serious talk with those guys as soon as he could find them and a private place to speak. That shit could not stand, and he didn’t have much time to help them pull their heads from their asses before he left Moncton for good.
He shook off another wave of sadness as he pulled into the arena parking lot for his last game with the Moncton Ice Cats, trying to figure out when he’d started to think of this city as his home.
How the fuck was he going to get the old Rhian back? He had to find that guy, and fast. The one who didn’t believe in attachments. Always ready to move on to the next gig. One hundred percent focused on hockey.
The NHL was his dream, and it was coming true. That was the most important thing. The brass ring. Everything he did had to revolve around meeting that goal.
Rhian looked up to see Garrick’s truck roaring into the lot. He climbed out of his car, waving to grab Garrick’s attention, but Garrick was already running for the arena. He hadn’t planned to come in for another hour, so something sure as hell was wrong.
Rhian took off after him and barreled through the lobby door right on Garrick’s heels.
Garrick ran faster.
What the fuck is going on?
They ended up at Rupert’s office. Garrick tried to slam the door in Rhian’s face, but Rhian wasn’t having it. He needed to know Garrick was all right. He wedged his foot against the door, forced his way in, and shut it firmly behind him.
Rupert jumped to his feet.
Garrick spun on Rhian. “Get out.”
Rhian pressed his back to the door. “What happened?”
“Get out, Rhian. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
Rhian felt like he’d been slammed to the boards without his helmet. His lungs locked up, all the air forced out. “What?”
Garrick immediately relented and pressed a hand to his cheek. “No, baby. I don’t mean…” He stopped and sighed. “Shit, since you’re in here, you might as well hear it.”
The Hat Trick Box Set Page 40