Legend (Arizona Vengeance #3)(24)



“What is that?” I ask Legend, who I note is behind the counter placing some chicken breasts in a casserole dish.

He looks up and grins. “It’s called a mamaRoo or something like that. Cool, huh?”

“What happened to old-fashioned rocking your baby?” I ask dryly then bend slightly at the knees to unload my burdens. I place on the floor the four white tote bags I’d carried in that contain presents and dessert. When Legend invited me for dinner the day after Christmas, I insisted on bringing something sweet because he has nothing sugary in his house.

It’s a travesty.

Legend nods back over to the egg-thingy rocking a sleeping Charlie. “I told the entire team about her before practice today. A few teammates and their wives dropped by this afternoon bearing presents. So much of it is repeat stuff that I have, but I definitely did not have an electric egg rocker for my kid.”

    Laughing, I walk toward the island, not sure if there should be a greeting between us or not. We’re lovers and we’re friends, but I don’t think we’re anything in between that. If I were greeting someone that I was in a relationship with, I would walk right to him and give him a hug or a kiss. But that kitchen island between us seems like an intentional barrier, so I play it cool and move to a stool.

Whether or not this bothers Legend, I can’t tell, but he talks on as if it doesn’t. “In addition to all the baby shit they brought over, I have a freezer and fridge full of food. Apparently, I come off as the helpless type who can’t fend for himself.”

I snort. I think Legend is the most capable person I know. He may not realize it, but he’s managed this whole new fatherhood experience with a grace not many people would have.

“Apparently, the team—and I’m talking about the players—are going to put on some type of baby shower for me. Or at least that’s what Erik said this afternoon. He was one of the ones that stopped by. I’m absolutely terrified at what a baby shower they might plan looks like.”

“I’m sure their idea of a baby shower is probably going out for drinks or something,” I tell him with a laugh and he nods. I then point to the casserole dish where he’s now ladling some type of creamy sauce over the chicken. It smells divine. “If you have a freezer and fridge full of food, why are you cooking?”

“Because when I invited you over, I said I would cook for you, remember? So I’m cooking for you.”

I lower my gaze so he can’t see the smile in my eyes. Whatever this is between us may be murky and undefined, but Legend has the power to make me swoon sometimes and he doesn’t even know it.

    When I look back up, I find him peering at me intently.

“You okay?” he asks with a worried expression.

“Absolutely fine,” I assure him with a big smile. “Now, how was your Christmas?”

“One of the best I can remember,” he tells me with a chuckle. “I did nothing but hang out with Charlie yesterday. I laid on that couch, she laid on my chest and we watched movies all damn day. It was bliss.”

“It sounds amazing,” I murmur as I can imagine this big brute of a goalie who in my most immediate past experience has been of the surly variety, spending a peaceful day with his newborn daughter watching movies together.

I need to change the subject because thinking of him and Charlie together will make me cry. I give a little cough and ask, “And did you have a good time with Dax and Tacker on Sunday evening?”

“Yeah.” He picks up the casserole and moves to put it in one of the double ovens. “Tacker was a surprise. He pretty much wanted to hold Charlie all night.”

“Why is that a surprise?” Even though I’ve hung out with Dax and been to some Vengeance parties, I haven’t had the pleasure of actually meeting Tacker yet. He was at a get-together at Dave & Buster’s several weeks ago when we all went there after a game. It was really for Blue’s brother, Billy.

We were all sort of spread out, so there was never an opportunity for anyone to introduce me to Tacker, and he didn’t stay long. But the time he was there, I saw that he pretty much hung out with Billy, who is wheelchair bound. Clearly, he has a soft spot.

    “What do you know about Tacker?” Legend asks after he shuts the oven. He immediately moves to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of wine. Holding it out so I can see it, I note it’s a Riesling which is my favorite.

Swoon.

But Legend asked me a question and I search my memory banks. I follow hockey loosely, but Tacker Hall is a recognizable name in the news. “He was in a plane crash last year—early November. He was piloting.”

And that’s all I got. I remember it was a big deal when he came back to the ice after recovering from his injuries.

“His fiancée was in that plane with him,” Legend says quietly and my heart contracts so hard, my knees wobble. “She died in front of him.”

“Oh God.” My hand covers my mouth.

Legend nods. “And he’s just not a very sociable guy these days. He rarely comes to events and doesn’t hang out with anyone on the team. Keeps to himself. So it was a big deal he agreed to come over Sunday night.”

“And that’s why you were surprised he was so taken with Charlie,” I surmise.

“Yeah,” Legend says as he sets the bottle of wine down and roots around in a drawer for an opener. When he finds it, he drives it into the top of the cork and starts twisting. “Not surprised he likes kids…or babies…but that he even bothers opening up with them, because nothing really draws him out, you know?”

Sawyer Bennett's Books