Marek (Cold Fury Hockey #11)(16)



“Marek’s an asshole,” Owen says smugly, like I should be ashamed for procreating with him. Not for loving him. “Need me to come down there and fix things for you? I’d be glad to. Will it move things along?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I think giving me a bit of time to get on his good side will be the best strategy.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” He chuckles, and I know the jerk is amused by my dilemma.

“By apologizing repetitively for keeping his daughter away from him,” I snap back. “Cut him a break, Owen. I totally wronged him.”

This would be the point that Owen may say, “Who cares? He wronged you.” But he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know the circumstances of how Marek dumped me and broke my heart. I’ve never shared it with anyone except my parents, who have been my rock-solid support since I found out I was pregnant. They didn’t agree with my decision to keep this from Marek, but they did understand why I did it. They understood how badly he let me down and how utterly alone he left me.

Instead, Owen changes the subject because he doesn’t find the subject of Marek’s and my downfall worthy. “I’m curious…how did he know we were getting married?”

“Someone sent him an email,” I say as I nibble on my thumbnail.

“I bet it was your sister, Bev. She can’t stand me.”

Not many people can stand you, Owen.

“It wasn’t Bev,” I assure him. This I know for a fact. Besides, Bev was beyond delighted that I was marrying Owen and would be moving up in society. She thought it was great.

“I want a committed time frame, Gracen,” Owen says, and my heart starts tripping madly. “I’d like to get the wedding rescheduled.”

“A month,” I whisper into the phone. It’s not nearly enough time for me to figure things out, but I’m hoping it will satisfy him enough to give me the chance.

“Two weeks,” he counters, except it’s not quite a negotiation. When he says “two weeks,” he means it, and there’s no argument. He softens the blow somewhat by saying, “I’ll put in a thirty-day extension on the note for your parents. But after that, I can’t help them anymore.”

“Thank you,” I reply, my tongue feeling as heavy as the weight on my shoulders right now.

“Until then,” he murmurs seductively.

Just gross.

The line goes dead as he hangs up on me, and I realize my hands are sweating.





Chapter 7


    Marek


“This may be the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” I tell Holt as I look at the three sledgehammers lying on his kitchen counter. They’re flanked by crowbars.

“It’s a great idea,” Holt insists. “I mean, what could be more fun that helping me destroy my kitchen?”

“Spending time with Josie,” Reed mutters as he picks up a sledgehammer to test the weight in his hands.

Of course he’d say that. He’s all in love for the first time in his life and has stars in his eyes.

What a fool.

I pick up a sledgehammer myself, get a good two-handed grip, and tap it lightly against the side of one of his cupboards. “So you just want us to knock the shit out of these things, huh?”

“Pretty much,” he says with a grin. “We’ll work out our aggressions. We’ve been far too sedentary this summer.”

This isn’t true. We’ve all hit the gym diligently during the off-season, but he’s just trying to get us riled up so we’ll start swinging.

Holt Craig came to the Cold Fury last February just before the trade deadline. He’s an incredibly talented center who has been waylaid by injuries the last several seasons. He played most recently for the Dallas Mustangs, but after coming back from his injuries, he lost his first-line position. He was ripe for a trade deal, and Gray Brannon has proved time and again she knows how to pick diamonds in the rough. I can’t wait to see what this guy does for the team.

On a personal note, I was happy to see Holt come to the Cold Fury, as we played in college together at Boston College. He left school for the pros after our freshman year, while I stayed all four years to get my degree. We had a good working relationship and an even better friendship we’ve maintained long distance over the years.

Holt bought an old farmhouse as soon as he moved here and wants to renovate the entire thing. The kitchen is his first project. I’d told him he was stupid to sink money into this place when he could easily be traded to another team next year. He just shrugged and said, “What else do I have all this money for if not to spend it? Besides, it will be like an investment.”

I have to admit, there’s some appeal to beating the shit out of these kitchen cabinets.

I woke up this morning with a raging headache and total regrets over the amount of booze I’d consumed. I’m hazy on the details, but I know I wanted to kiss Gracen last night, and that was about as stupid as it comes.

I was mortified at myself this morning for my lack of self-control where she’s concerned, so when Holt texted me to come over for some demolition fun, it was an easy escape for me. I heard Gracen and Lilly moving around upstairs, so I just threw some clothes on, left a quick note on the fridge that I’d be gone during the day, and hightailed it out of there.

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