Roman (Cold Fury Hockey #7)(21)
“Oh, I brought this for you,” I say as I clumsily hand the bottle of wine I’d picked up on the way over here.
“That’s really sweet,” Gray says with a gracious smile as she takes the bottle and looks at the label.
“I’m not sure if it’s any good,” I blurt out. “I don’t know much about wine.”
“I’m sure it will be great,” she assures me. “Come on. I just took the beef tenderloin out of the oven and it needs to set for about twenty minutes. Let’s go open this puppy up and you guys can see what it tastes like.”
“Just as long as no one holds it against me if it’s awful,” I say teasingly, and Gray laughs.
Gray actually laughs at something I said, and it sounds warm and genuine. I have to wonder why she’s all of a sudden so accepting of me.
She leads me into the kitchen and I see Brian leaning with his elbows on the large island in the center of the kitchen. His eyes light up when he sees me, and within moments, his hands are on my shoulders and he’s leaning down to kiss my cheek. My eyes cut to Gray to see her reaction, but her back is to me as she hands the wine I brought to her husband, Ryker.
When my dad—Brian—no, my dad pulls away, I turn to Ryker. “You don’t need any introduction. I’m a huge fan of yours.”
He steps past Gray and holds his empty hand out to me with a warm smile. “It’s great to meet you, Lexi.”
Brian immediately moves to the bottle of wine that’s already open and pours a glass. As he hands it to me, Gray asks, “Dad said you’d just moved here about seven months ago. Were you always a Cold Fury fan?”
Her tone is inquisitive, but I also know she’s measuring me up as well.
“No,” I tell her honestly. “Wasn’t a fan of hockey at all. But I started reading about it when I learned Da—I mean, Brian, owned the Cold Fury. And I started watching it, and of course, I watched all the playoffs and you win the Stanley Cup. It was really exciting.”
“Have you been to any of the games this season?” Gray asks.
I shake my head. “I’m saving up some of my singing tips to get a ticket. Maybe around March.”
Gray’s face remains impassive, but Brian immediately says, “Well, that won’t do. You can have a ticket to any game you want to go to. In fact, you can sit up in the owner’s box with—”
“Dad,” Gray interjects bluntly. “Not until the test comes back.”
“And I don’t need you to give me a ticket,” I say firmly, my eyes cutting from Brian back to Gray. “I can buy my own.”
Gray flinches slightly and lowers her gaze.
“Listen,” Brian finally says, addressing the elephant in the room. “How about we all agree that we’ll just take the next few weeks until the test comes back to get to know each other. And, Lexi, if the test concludes what I expect it will, you will most certainly not be buying tickets to the game. It the test reveals otherwise, then worst-case scenario is that we’ve become friends.”
I hear Ryker snort, but I don’t dare look at him. In fact, I don’t dare look away from Brian, who seems to be pinning me in place with a “dad” look that I’ve never experienced before. It says there’s to be no argument.
“Okay,” I say softly.
“So, Lexi,” Ryker says, and my gaze slides to him. He’s looking at me with open interest. “Brian’s told us a little about you, but how about you fill Gray and me in on your life so far. Like where you were born, and where you lived. We understand you’ve lived in different places.”
I take a sip of my wine, and after swallowing I say, “Well…let’s see. I was born in Hartford, Connecticut, and lived there until I was eighteen. When I graduated from high school, I didn’t have any interest in college right then so I thought I’d travel around. A friend and I went out to Portland, and that’s when I started working as a barista. Stayed there a few years, fell in love, or so I thought, and followed a guy out to Tucson. Fell out of love—namely because he was also loving someone else behind my back—and left Tucson for Little Rock. Over the next three years I lived in Little Rock, Nashville, and then Pittsburgh. I was working as a bartender in Pittsburgh when I found out my mom was sick, and I went back home to Hartford to take care of her until she passed away. Then I moved here.”
“I’m really sorry about your mom,” Gray says softly, and I see within the depths of her eyes an understanding of my pain. She lost her mom too, although far earlier than I did. Just like I didn’t have a father growing up, she didn’t have a mother. But I’m sure she can imagine how horrible it would be to lose her father, and that’s where I know she truly gets me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, looking down into my wine. “It wasn’t pretty at the end, and she didn’t go fast. Luckily they had her pretty drugged up, so I don’t think she was suffering. Still…I got to the point where I would just sit in her hospice room and talk to her, repeatedly just telling her that it was all right to let go. I was so grateful when she finally did.”
I look up and see a light sheen of tears formed in Gray’s eyes, but they’re not looking at me. Rather, they’re pinned on her father, and I know she is indeed imagining what that might be like if that happened to him. My gaze cuts to Brian, but he’s looking at me, his face awash with utter sympathy.