Tangled with the Tight End (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 30

thirty

GAbrIEL

A Few Days Later

“Why am I standing on the edge of a pond in 15-degree weather with snow up past my ankles?” I may be bitchy, but the sunrise mixed with the beauty of the mountains in the backdrop is almost worth it. Almost. It’s fucking cold.

Marco glances at me over his shoulder. “You know why. I’m coaching hockey.”

“Yes, I know why you’re here, but I still don’t understand why I’m here.” I stomp my feet to keep them from freezing inside the fur-lined boots.

“Because….” He chuckles and smacks my shoulders with his gloved hand. I can barely make out his laughter under the tied hood with the mock fur fringe around the edge. “You need to experience the beauty of Evergreen Lake.”

“I experienced the beauty of Evergreen Lake last night.” One corner of my mouth arches upward as I envision making love to Norah. The woman’s body and spirit are awe-inspiring.

“Smooth.” Marco laughs harder.

I can’t get enough of her. My heart clutches at the thought of having to leave. I want to say fuck it and retire, but I also want to ensure we’re financially prepared for the future. And with my greedy ex waiting around the corner, I can’t afford to mess up anything. I’d love to walk away without giving her a dime, but that’s not how the world works. The most important thing is to end our marriage and keep Gino with me.

“But it’s good to see you happy. I know things with Sloane were never good, and I was relieved when you said you were divorcing her.” His face sobers. “Be careful with that one.”

My gut is tight as I nod. “I am. I have an attorney and a security team dragging all her dirty laundry to light.” My hands ball into fists. Or at least into as tight of a fist as I can make with padded gloves on my hands.

“Good.”

While we talked, several cars pulled up with kids piling out to join us at the pond. They lace up their skates and glide out onto the pond. As they pass the black puck around the smooth ice, they laugh and bounce into each other, knocking their opponents out of the way as the different groupings attempt to drive the puck into one of the two portable nets.

“You know I don’t know the first thing about hockey….” I steal a glance at him. “Right?”

“Yep.” He directs me out onto the ice. “But you know athletes and gamesmanship, and it’s not that different from football.”

“Fine,” I grumble and join him on the ice. Norah is keeping Gino while I watch Marco coach his hockey team. A blue-colored bird swoops down through the sky and dives back up before getting too close. We’re likely disturbing her home, and she’d like nothing better than for us to disappear so she can return to bed.

“Guys.” Marco rests his hand on the shoulder of one of the boys. There are 12 boys, all around 12 to 14 years old. Some still have baby-fat faces, while others are showing signs of more permanent cheekbones. “He’s going to take the six of you….” He points to the grouping that’s on the right, and I’m going to lead Jack’s team.”

What in the fuck? “Marco, I don’t–”

“You’ve seen hockey before.”

“Yeah, a few times, but we grew up in Texas. It’s not like we played hockey on the ponds down there.”

“You’ll be fine.” One of the older boys with bright green eyes shoves his gloves on tighter. The edges of the gloves overlap his jacket by several inches. “We’ve been playing since we were four.” He shoves out his covered hand. “By the way, my name is Aiden.”

“Nice to meet you.” I study him for a second as the other kids gather around. He’s clearly the leader of this group. His eyes are sharp as he looks me over. “You Coach Marco’s brother?”

“Yes, my name is Gabriel.”

One corner of his mouth jerks upward. “You’re the tight end for Kansas City.”

“Yes.” I nod.

“We also play football during the summer and fall. I’m the QB, and Henley here….” He points out another boy who’s wearing a red coat and black gloves. “He’s the tight end for the team.”

“Coach Marco also coaches our football team. He didn’t want anything to do with hockey, but we begged him to coach us. Our last coach didn’t know a hockey puck from a football.”

The boys brief me about the rules and strategy for several minutes, leaving my head swirling. But honestly, it’s not that different than football. Well, maybe mixing football and basketball together, only the puck stays on the ground.

Basically, there’s one scoring device players pass back and forth to each other. While avoiding the opposition from stealing the puck and trying to get it into the opponent’s net. Nothing hard about that.

Marco leans down and whispers something to his team, and I grin. We may not be playing the same sport as we played as kids, but I know my brother’s tendencies.

“Gather in,” I tell the guys. They lean in, reducing the distance from each other. “My brother is predictable. He’s going to try to take the puck straight to you and shove it down your throat. He’s always been a brute player. If his team gets the ball,” I roll my eyes, “the puck first, take the puck away from the lead player.”

“Got it, Coach,” Aiden says as they all nod in unison.

“If we get the puck first, Aiden, I need you to come in from the side, swat the puck to Henley, and pass it back and forth amongst whoever can get into range, going closer but not too close to the net. We’re going to pass until we get within striking distance.”

Aiden grins from ear to ear. “You know your brother well. We’re known for shoving the puck down the opponent’s throat.”

“Good.” I chuckle and pat Aiden’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what we played. He always thought he could out-strength me, but I could always outmaneuver him.”

Moments later, the players take the center of the ice as my brother, and I regroup on the edge near the snow-covered grass. “You’re going down.” He elbows me. Obviously, he feels confident that he has the upper hand.

“Not so fast.”

The hocking sticks smack at the ice as my brother’s team slashes down the middle of the pond. Aiden swipes the puck, just as I instructed. “Damn you.” Marco glares.

“Watch it, little brother.”

“Screw you.” His eyes narrow into slits as Aiden leads the team down the ice swishing the puck back and forth between them.

“Jack!” Marco yells from beside me. “Get between Henley and Aiden, he’s going to shoot the puck back to–”

But before the words are out, Henley swats the puck, slamming it into the net, past the goalie.

“Baby brother….” I clutch his shoulder with a wide grin, splitting my face. “You might want to branch out your playbook.”

“Asshole.” He glares before breaking into a smile. “I knew you’d enjoy it.”

He’s right, I did. I watch as the sun jumps over the horizon and bathes us in light. “When I retire, be sure to save me a spot on your coaching staff.”

“You’ve got it.” Marco shoves me as we both go out to the center of the ice to critique what went down in the last set of plays while the boys listen with rapt attention.

When I’d considered retiring before, it had been a big black blob of nothing. I was in a loveless marriage with no real connection to my son and no plans for a career outside of the game.

The thought of giving it up and moving on after playing the sport since I was 5 years old was depressing. But now, I’m excited about the future–Gino, Norah, a restaurant, coaching with my brother. It’s like the mountain air has given me a new life.