Mister Hockey (Hellions Angels #1)(24)

If Granny noticed them jump apart, she didn’t let on. “Fancy seeing you twice in one week, handsome.” She made a show of looking around. “Tell me you brought that Patchy Donnelly, please? Please?”

“Sorry, ma’am, I don’t have much communication with him in the off-season.” He wasn’t close to Patch. Goalies were notoriously difficult personalities and Donnelly wasn’t much different in that department.

“That’s a shame, that boy is . . .” Granny Dee glanced down at Sam before clicking her tongue and made a Campbell’s Soup “mmm, mmm, good” sound.

“What?” Sam looked up between the adults, scratching the side of his snub nose. “What’s that mean?”

No one was brave enough to answer.

“Come in, come in.” Granny seized their arms and dragged them inside. “Most folks are out on the back porch.”

“They’re eating already?” Breezy asked. “I brought the flag cake.”

Jed eyed the sheer number of shoes lined by the door. Just how many people were here?

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” Granny Dee shrugged. “Now about you. Big man like you must have one heck of an appetite. You want a burger, Westy? Or a hot dog? There’s ribs going too. And three different kinds of chili. Each of my sons-in-law thinks they’ve got the perfect recipe. But they’re all wrong. Nobody can match me.”

“That’s not false modesty,” Breezy murmured, leaning in. “No one is absolutely sure how she does it, but it’s good. Better than good.”

The noise from the backyard was deafening. Sounded like everyone was having a good time. Jed hesitated, not wanting to go in and mess up the dynamic. Conversation would grind to a halt. People would point and whisper.

“Tell you what, I’ll take a glass of water,” he told the grandmother. It was hard to look her straight on in that hat.

“Water? That I can do. Take out the cake, Bumper Butt, and make your uncles happy. I’ll hydrate Westy and see if he wants to help Sam with his board game.”

“Board games?” Breezy pulled up tight. “Weren’t those uniformly banned from Angel parties after the fight two years ago?”

“After the Monopoly fight?” Granny asked.

“When Aunt Lo head-butted Uncle Spence!”

“Well she’s into transcendental meditation now. And this is The Settlers of Catan.”

“It’s long,” Sam announced. “That’s all I know. The grownups want to keep me occupied.”

Breezy frowned at him. “I don’t know if Jed is up for long.”

“Sounds fun,” he said quickly. The real reason he was here was because he wanted to be closer to Breezy. Not because he was interested in socializing with a mass of strangers, especially ones that fight over board games. His family didn’t verbalize feelings. You knew Mom was upset if she poured a glass of Chardonnay and went in her bedroom.

“So the rumors are true,” a deep voice boomed. An intellectual-looking man with thick black glasses and a trimmed gray beard sauntered down the hall. “All of hell is empty and the devils are here, am I right?” He gave them a look of mock seriousness before booming a laugh and clasping Jed on the shoulders. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’m grabbing him a water, Spencer,” Granny said. “This is my son-in-law. He teaches Shakespeare at the community college.”

“Water?” The guy waved her off. “This is Jed West. Get this man a beer. A quart of ale is meal for a king and besides the foolery is in full swing.”

“Heya, Uncle Spence, rhyming this early in the day?” Breezy patted the man on the shoulder of his sweater vest before dragging Jed into a hallway alcove. “You don’t have to drink or eat anything they try to shove down your throat, nor do you have to play board games with my cousin and ninety-year-old grandma.”

“Game sounds good.” His vision began to warp on the edges. It took effort to keep his features steady. “Nice and low-key.” At least he could sit and wait for it to pass.

“I’m going to drop off the cake but then I’ll be back in fast. You okay?” Breezy gave him a concerned look. “You look a little funny.”

“Me? I’m fine. Fine.” He’d used the lie so often in his life that he could deliver the untruth smooth and polished, like rock from a tumbler.

The Settlers of Catan turned out to be anything but low-key. Grandma and Sam took their places at a small table in the library, the room lined with wall-to-ceiling bookshelves.

He couldn’t read a single title, or the directions that Granny handed him as Sam spoke fast about things like victory cards and hexes, robbers and tokens.

From another room, Breezy’s name was called again, this time heavy with intent. Gossip was clearly floating throughout the party, like dandelion fluffs on the breeze.

He suspected he was the source.

Shit. He ground his teeth. He’d wanted to spend more time with Breezy, be normal. But he was kidding himself. There was nothing normal happening here. The slow metronome of his heart began to pick up the tempo.

“I gotta pee,” Sam announced with the abruptness of a child.

“I’ve been waiting for it to be just you and me.” Granny leaned in and punched his arm. “Tell me a story.”