Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(60)

“Survey says never,” Christensen said, not sounding like he cared. “But that doesn’t change that I am a man who has serious game. The ladies love me.”

“Oh yeah,” Phillips said. “Right up until they’ve spent more than forty-eight hours with you.”

Christensen flipped them off, but before he could launch into another defense of his studliness, Blackburn stepped into the fray, crossing the locker room to stand in front of Stuckey.

He looked at all the players and gave a disgusted huff. “Seeing as how I’m captain and I’m the only one of you chuckleheads in anything like a relationship—no offense, Phillips, but whatever it is that you have with Marti is too messy to be called a relationship—I believe I’m the only one here who can comment on what Stuckey should be doing to fix his Zara problem.”

Denying that he was in deep was useless. These guys knew him too well for that. Between the months of September and June, they spent more time with one another than their own families. That was the hockey life. He’d chosen it. He wouldn’t change it for the world. Now he just wanted to add Zara to it.

“So what do I do?” he asked, almost desperate enough to take advice from Christensen.

Blackburn crossed his arms and gave him a hard look. “What’s the goal?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “I want to be with her.”

“For a night or for longer?”

“The second.” Without a doubt.

Blackburn rubbed his chin for at least a ten count, then just when Caleb was convinced the other man was going full vow-of-silence monk on him, he shrugged and said, “Then find a way to make that happen.”

Fucking A. He could have come up with that shit advice all by himself. “That’s what I’m asking you to tell me how to do.”

“I don’t want to date her; I don’t fucking know what specific thing will apply to her,” Blackburn said. “You gotta figure it out.”

Caleb considered strangling himself or Blackburn with the towel but just balled it up and threw it at the captain instead. “You are horrible at giving advice.”

“But I’m really good at telling people to get their head out of their ass, which is exactly what you need to do.” Blackburn dropped the towel in a laundry bin and picked up one of the new mini pucks the marketing department would be handing out when they got back home to all the fans on opening night, tossing it to him. “Figure it out, Stuckey.”

Then he walked away, leaving Caleb staring at the tiny puck that wasn’t even half as detailed or clever as it would have been if Zara had made it. She would have painted the team logo on it and given it some scuff marks as if it had been used in a game. She would—

How in the hell did he convince Zara that being with him, going beyond—way beyond—five dates was worth it, that taking a chance on love was worth it? Lucky for him, he knew just the Miss Fix It to consult.

…

Caleb walked out of the Carlyle Building the next day with part one of his game plan completed.

He’d gotten a promise from Lucy for tickets to the Friends of the Library charity ball in a few days. Once he was there, he’d be back up in case Zara needed help getting an introduction to Helene Carlyle. His secret weapon there? The fact that both Carlyle sons were huge Ice Knights fans. He’d get Phillips and a couple of the other guys to come with him to help smooth the way for Zara with some Carlyle meet and greets, but only if she needed it. Knowing her, she wouldn’t, but he wanted to be there for her just like that safety net had been at their obstacle course date.

Hooking a left and heading toward Zara’s apartment, he slow rolled when he spotted a limo at the corner with a well-dressed older woman standing nearby.

The guy in a chauffeur’s hat put a suitcase into the trunk. “Is this everything you need for the airport, Ms. Carlyle?”

“Yes, Linus,” the woman said. “Thank you so much. It was good to come back, but I’m ready to get home to Italy.”

He caught the last bit in full as he was passing by and jolted to a stop. Airport? Italy? Now?

Shit.

Zara would be devastated. She’d been waiting for the ball just to be able to meet with Ms. Carlyle. He was moving again before he even thought about it, powered forward by instinct and the undeniable urge to help Zara.

“Ms. Carlyle?” He stopped a few feet away, making sure to stay out of her personal space as the words rushed out. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I overheard you’re leaving and my girlfriend— Well, she’s not my girlfriend, not yet, but she’s a miniatures artist and she’s been working her ass off—pardon the language—to put together the perfect piece to show you. Are you really going to miss the ball?”

“I’m afraid I am,” Ms. Carlyle said. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Zara Ambrose.”

She looked up toward the sky as if she was going through her mental contacts list. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard of her.”

“Here, hold on.” He grabbed his phone and pulled up some pictures of the dollhouse that he’d taken last time he’d been at Zara’s apartment. “These aren’t the greatest photos, but you can see she does amazing work.”

She took his phone, giving him an assessing look as if she was trying to place him. “What was your name?”