And then I’m struck with another semi-brilliant idea. I’ve been mulling over Zack’s words to me that I didn’t have anyone I should be hiding myself from. I really didn’t have any errands to run today, but now I think I do.
To the mall.
I got my first paycheck yesterday, and let me just say…Zack pays me well.
For the first time ever, I’m going to buy myself something nice.
Chapter 11
Zack
“And tonight’s most valuable player,” the Cold Fury announcer says with a long drawl, “is number fifty-seven, Zack Grantham.”
The arena erupts and I step back out onto the ice to make a small lap with my stick raised high. The fact that my son is here to watch this makes it that much better. The game MVP title is sweet. As a second-line left winger, those opportunities don’t come as frequently as they do for guys like Alex and Garrett who play on the first line, and for a damned good reason. They are phenomenal players who are graced with amazing natural talent. I have to work twice as hard to play as good as they do, so that makes this even sweeter.
Tonight I scored my third career hat trick—three goals in a game. The first came just about fifty seconds into the game when I was on my first shift. I stepped out onto the ice during the shift change and luckily intercepted a bad pass from one of the Toronto Blazers players.
Then it was a full-on breakaway as I shot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.
Tap, tap, tap—back and forth—puck to blade of stick.
I closed in on the goalie and juked left.
He went left and I juked right.
He kept going left, so I kept going right and flipped the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burned bright behind the net and the fans went wild.
I scored my last two goals in the third period. One off a dump pass from one of my mates and the other into an empty net when the Blazers pulled their goalie to put an extra man on the ice with the hope of tying the score. There were only fifteen seconds left in the game when I scored that third goal, and since the game was being televised, they had to go to a TV timeout because of all the hats that were being thrown onto the ice.
I had gotten tickets for Kate and Ben right beside the Cold Fury bench, first row. I skated by and tapped the glass with my stick right in front of Ben’s little face as he was screaming his head off. He then took his Cold Fury hat off his head, Kate lifted him up, and he tossed it over the glass at me. I swear I almost broke down and started crying over his gesture, because he loves that fucking hat.
I went and scooped it up and threw it toward one of our trainers on the bench to hold for safekeeping so Ben could get it back.
And watching Kate with Ben?
Not a shred of jealousy from the way she picked him up and helped him to cheer on his dad. That would have definitely been Gina there if circumstances were different, and yet…it was okay with me that she did that. It was okay with me that she seemed to know what to do, and she helped Ben to have a sweet-ass bonding moment with me during an important part of my hockey career.
And fuck…the way Kate looks tonight.
When I was ready to leave for the game, I had to yell up the stairs twice at her to hurry up and get her ass down there. We were close to running late and I couldn’t imagine what was taking her so long. I figured she was probably trying to pin up all that glorious hair and finding super-frumpy clothing to wear. But when she came down the stairs and her feet hit the hardwood floors of the kitchen, I know my jaw dropped open when I took in her appearance.
Kate had apparently taken me at my word that she didn’t have reason to hide that beautiful body anymore.
It’s not that she was wearing anything revealing. It’s just that her clothes actually fit her…very nicely…in all the right places.
She was wearing a ribbed cream-colored turtleneck that molded to her body and accentuated the curve of her breasts. Her dark jeans weren’t skintight, but they were sculpted to her hips and ass superbly. She completed the ensemble with a black scarf shot through with silver threading around her neck and a pair of knee-high black boots with shiny silver buckles at the ankles. Her hair was loose and floating around her shoulders and down her back. Her glasses were firmly in place, but again, they only make her sexier, in my opinion.
“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath when my eyes went down to her toes and back up to her head.
Her face was red, but she held her chin up. “I went shopping today.”
I swallowed hard, sweeping my gaze over her again. “You did good,” I murmured.
She lowered her eyes for a moment and pretended to fiddle with her purse. “Well, it’s a good thing you pay me well.”