Slap Shot(45)

“No.” I quickly shook my head.

“Ever been married?” Lucy asked.

I raised my brows. “Er, no to that question as well.”

“Do you want to get married and have kids?” Nancy asked.

Glancing between the three women, I could see they genuinely wanted to know. Anyone else asking me such personal questions would have gotten my back up, but it was clear they were just checking me out, considering my suitability for Rick, a man they obviously all cared for deeply. I decided on an honest answer, it was the best approach. “Yes,” I said. “I would love to settle down with the right man and have a ton of kids, one day.”

Hilary smiled.

Nancy leaned in to me like a conspirator. “When I had Elliot, Jamie, that’s my husband, was away on business and Rick had to come with me to the hospital.”

“She went into labor three weeks early,” Lucy chipped in. “Rick was visiting.”

“Yeah, he was dropping off the tiniest hockey shirt you’ve ever seen. He’d even had Lewis embroidered on the back in dinky stitching.” She drained her wine. “And it all happened just as I was making him coffee. My water broke, flooded the kitchen floor and my stomach just…” She clenched her fists and grimaced. “Boy, did it hurt.”

“He took her to the hospital.” Lucy said, nodding vigorously, her eyes wide.

“It was good he was there then.” I looked between the two of them, they were like a double act the way they shared a conversation.

“Yes,” Nancy agreed. “But the midwives fawned over him like a bunch of giggling schoolgirls and there was me, in agony, and he was being asked for autographs and to pose for pictures.” She tutted, as did Hilary and Lucy.

I frowned sympathetically.

“But eventually he held your hand didn’t he?” Lucy said.

“Yes, eventually he came into the delivery suite. I was really starting to panic, Jamie wasn’t even on a flight to come home and the last thing a girl wants is her brother seeing her…” She pointed downward and pulled a face. “Her…dooda.”

I nodded and then shook my head, wondering where the story was going.

“But let me tell you one thing about Rick,” Nancy said, reaching for the wine and topping up everyone’s glass. “He can handle all kinds of pain himself, we’ve seen him bust up so many different parts of his body on the ice, but if he sees a woman in pain, that’s it, he can’t cope. He’s like a wet rag. Goes all stupid and pale.”

I swallowed and looked down at my nails, unable to trust myself to catch anyone’s eye, let alone speak. Rick had enjoyed the whole woman in pain thing with me just a few hours ago. Okay, his sister having a baby was a completely different thing, but even so, Rick seriously got off seeing a woman writhing on the pleasure/pain border. A border he’d created, with clever, skillful hands, hands that struck and stung and hit the perfect spot with an expertise that had clearly been honed. I gulped. There were just some things a family, even a close family, should never know about one another.

“Luckily, before it got bloody and gruesome I arrived at the hospital,” Lucy said, oblivious to my discomfort and luckily none the wiser to the images and memories cavorting through my head.

“Thank goodness,” Nancy sighed.

I smiled, took a sip of wine and hoped that would be the end of pain talk.

“But I’m sure he’ll be fine when you have his babies, Dana,” Nancy said with a shrug.

Wine burned the back of my throat, fluid gurgled into my lungs. I coughed and spluttered. Jumped from the stool.

“Oh dear, are you all right?” Nancy asked, thumping my back.

I nodded and sucked in a trickle of air, tapped my sternum and reached for a glass of water at the sink.

“Girls, I think it’s a little premature to talk about Dana having Rick’s babies,” Hilary said sternly. “It’s early days, they’ve only just started dating, isn’t that right, dear?”

Glugging back water to ease the fire, I turned to Hilary. “Yes,” I said in a croaky voice. “Early days.”



By the time the boys had exhausted themselves in the pool, we’d finished another bottle of wine and Lucy and Nancy has spilled several juicy bits of gossip about Rick’s childhood.

The men and kids all tumbled into the kitchen, reaching for the wraps, chips and cookies that were waiting on the counter.

“Oh I nearly forgot. How silly of me,” Hilary said, jumping up and disappearing into the hallway.

“You surviving?” Rick whispered into my ear. He smelled of tangy, lemon shower gel.

“Oh yes,” I said with a grin. “Had a lovely time hearing all about your habit of hiding your dad’s car keys when you didn’t want him to go to work.”