That blow-up doll Hughie’d been talking about was starting to sound good.
And that thought made him laugh as he climbed into his truck.
—
“Why the sudden interest in hockey?” Easton frowned at Amber as she changed the channel on the big flat-screen TV he’d splurged on several months ago. “You never watch sports.”
“Yeah, and you know why.”
“Well, actually, boo, I don’t. I mean, I guess I’d understand if you didn’t want to watch football. Even though I know you actually like the sport. But why not baseball?”
“Boring.”
“So hockey’s going to be your go-to sport.”
She laughed and settled the big bowl of popcorn between them. “Right.”
“This has to do with our visitor earlier today, doesn’t it? Mr. Big and Tall. Holy Milk Duds, he is yoked out.”
Amber choked on a piece of popcorn.
Easton laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not after him.”
“Well, he did discuss switching teams the other night.”
“Shut the front door.”
“He’s sworn off women.”
“Ha. That’s hilarious. A guy like that can’t swear off women. He was oozing testosterone. And he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“Whatever.”
“Anyhoo, he’s why you’re watching this bloody, brutal game, right?”
She grimaced. “There won’t be blood, will there? Really?”
“I think there often is in hockey. Not that I know much about it.”
She bit her lip as the national anthem played and the camera panned across a line of players. She had no idea which one was Duncan. She had no idea why she cared. Easton was right. She never watched sports of any kind.
She’d been athletic in high school. She’d played soccer, winning two Class A state championships in a row, and she’d been twice named a NSCAA High School All-American. She had a competitive streak in her and a natural athleticism. She got that from her father, God help her. She’d abandoned all team sports after high school, both participating and watching them, but she still felt a need to work her body, so she’d turned to running, lifting some weights at the gym, and going to a once-a-week Zumba class.
“What did you put on this popcorn?” Easton peered into the bowl.
“Butter and icing sugar.”
“Icing sugar?”
“Try it! It’s really good.”
“Why do you keep messing up perfectly good popcorn with weird things? Last week it was the cheese package from the Kraft mac and cheese.” Easton cautiously popped a piece into his mouth. “Huh. It is good.”
“So you’re going to watch the game with me?”
“What the hell. I don’t understand hockey, but we can learn together.”
They munched popcorn and watched the game.
“And look at that, in the crease!” the announcer cried.
Easton paused. “Really? In the crease? What kind of sport is this?”
Amber shot him a mock-reproving look and reached for more popcorn.
“Why do they keep blowing the whistle?” Easton asked moments later. “They keep interrupting the game before it gets going.”
“I don’t know. Listen to the announcer. Maybe we’ll figure it out.”
Two players slammed into the boards, rattling the glass. Easton and Amber both winced.
“Eeek,” Easton said. “Those dudes are tough.”
“Or crazy.” Amber reached for more popcorn.
“Football players are crazy too. Slamming other guys into the ground.”
“This seems more dangerous,” she mused. “With those boards all around. You can’t really get away from some guy if he’s determined to hit you.”
“True. I’d be running as fast as I could if one of those guys was coming at me.”
“And that was nearly in through the back door!” the announcer shouted.
Easton and Amber turned to look at each other. “This is my kind of sport,” Easton said, and Amber burst out laughing.
She listened for Duncan’s name and then heard the announcer say, “That’s the fifth icing call and we haven’t even reached the four-minute mark. Watch this race for the puck between Armstrong and Gregoire, Armstrong easily winning that one.”
She focused on the replay. There, that was him, number 33.
“And the first penalty of the game goes against the Aces as Jared Rupp gets two minutes for hooking,” the play-by-play announcer said.
“Hey, that’s your boss.”
“Yeah.” Amber grinned. “In the penalty box. Also known as the sin bin.”
Easton held out a fist so they could bump knuckles. “I’m impressed.”