Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(55)

“About time you showed up, Stuckey,” the guy said. “Tell me you brought the brats.”

Caleb lifted the bag in his hand that wasn’t still planted firmly on her hip. “Ta-da.”

“Thank God.” He snagged the bag. “I get one of these cheat days a month, and I’m making it count.”

“Zara Ambrose, meet Cole Phillips, who, despite his obsession with dusting and insistence that everyone use a coaster, is actually a pretty chill dude,” Caleb said. “Phillips, this is Zara. She is a massively talented miniatures artisan and you don’t stand a chance with her because she has a Great Dane.”

Cole grimaced. “Oh God, the only thing worse than dogs is kids. Sorry, I’m sure your dog is the special one that doesn’t shed or lick things.”

“Oh no, Anchovy does all of that, plus he steals and farts.” She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Cole, who looked like he worked as a model during the off-season, just stared blankly at her for a second. Yes, there she was, continuing to make the world’s worst first impression. Then, when she was ready to chop through the hardwood floor to make her own hole to crawl into, Cole started laughing, and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“You are always welcome. Your dog, not so much,” Cole said. “Come on out by the pool. The grill is ready to go, and Petrov and Christensen are playing some kind of ping-pong death match.”

They followed Cole out onto the patio. While she’d been expecting a crush of people, there was only about a dozen. Most were Ice Knights players, including Zach Blackburn and Fallon Hartigan, who she, like most of Harbor City, had watched fall in love. She had been firmly #TeamZuck, and meeting them now was a little awkward. Okay, a lot awkward. She may have called Fallon Lady Luck, which really was better than referring to Zach by his former nickname as the most hated man in Harbor City…but still embarrassing.

Two strikes, Ambrose.

“Don’t even stress about it,” Fallon said when Zach and Caleb wandered off to go get cheeseburgers and beers for them all. “Meeting everyone can be weird. I met everyone at a paintball game and was so excited, I told Stuckey his own stats.”

“Thanks,” she said, relieved at the other woman’s kindness. “That’s really nice of you.”

“Just don’t let it get out.” Fallon gave her an ornery grin, nodding toward the two guys who’d been playing ping-pong and who were now making their way over. “I have a reputation as a ballbuster to uphold.”

“I’ll never tell,” Zara said with a laugh as the men stopped at their table and sat down with them.

“Oh, come on, you can tell me everything.” One of the men stuck his hand out. “Alex Christensen. You must be Zara, the woman who has our boy all twisted up six ways from Sunday.”

God, how did she explain the straightforward plan she and Caleb had come up with that had twisted into a complicated mess all of a sudden? “It’s not like that.”

“The Bramble dates are a PR setup? Yeah, I figured that,” the other man said, lifting his chin in greeting. “Ian Petrov.”

“Oh, you’re Petrov,” she said, excited to have a face to put with the name. “Caleb was telling me all about how they were going to trade you if he didn’t do the dating thing. I’m so glad everything worked out.”

The words were out of her mouth in a burst of nervous rambling, and as soon as they were, she knew she’d fucked up.

Ian leaned forward, his eyes narrowing and his shoulders tensing. “Trade me?”

Strike three, you’re out, Ambrose. You have officially messed up everything within the first ten minutes of being here. Way to go.

She gulped. “I guess I forgot you didn’t know that part?”

“No,” Ian said in a harsh voice. “Stuckey seems to have forgotten all about telling me that very vital piece of information about my career.”

Of course, Caleb walked back to their table with two plates of cheeseburgers at that moment. Zara wanted to warn him, but she didn’t get a chance.

“So it seems I have you to thank for my job.” But Ian didn’t sound thankful—not in the least little bit—as he stood up and faced off with Caleb. “Here I’d thought I was back in the lineup because of all that hard work I’d put in at the gym and the PT regimen that left me praying for death some days. I gave up motherfucking cookies because I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.”

Fallon leaned over and whispered, “He loves cookies, like could-be-Santa-Claus loves them.”

Caleb didn’t seem put out by the other man’s aggressive attitude. He just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“And this is why I didn’t say anything to you.” Caleb laid the paper plates ladened with enough food for five on the table. “You and that big-ass chip on your shoulder because of your last name. You got your spot back all by yourself, not because of me and not because your dad’s in the Hall of Fame. You put in the work; I just made sure you had the time to make it happen.”

The two men were practically nose to nose, chests puffed up, both of them refusing to back down. Zara opened her mouth to say something—anything—in way of an apology for causing trouble, but Fallon reached out and covered her hand, giving her a discreet nah-don’t-do-it shake of her head and mouthing the word “men” while rolling her eyes.