Knight Before Christmas, page 5
“Will it get busy again between periods?”
“Yes, but not like just now. That was the big rush. They’ll be back for drinks and maybe some more candy, but that’s it for hotdogs and popcorn.”
I glanced over at the countertop grill. “There’s not a single hotdog left. Do you always guess how many you’re going to sell?”
“Usually there’s three or four still left because I hate to have to turn anyone away, but tonight was busier than I anticipated.”
“Do you start cleaning up now?”
“I try to clean as I go. The game will be over around nine and then there’s a men’s league game at ten so I hang out a little while in case they want water or anything.”
“Do you have to hang around?”
Her eyes met mine questioningly. “Well…no, I guess not. Why?”
“Let’s go get a late dinner. I enjoyed spending time with you last night and I’d like to get to know you better. If you’re interested.” I couldn’t remember the last time a woman made me feel a little unsure about my next move. They were usually practically foaming at the mouth to get a second date, yet Noelle seemed hesitant.
“It’ll probably be close to ten before I can get out of here,” she said finally.
“That’s okay. I had a late lunch.” I paused. “Did you have dinner already?”
“No, I’ve been here since noon.”
“Perfect.”
* * *
We went back to the Twisted Tinsel Bar since it was late and neither of us were dressed to go anywhere nicer. Horace greeted us like old friends, immediately bringing me a Molson and an eggnog for Noelle.
“Food or just drinks tonight?” he asked us.
“Food.” We spoke in unison and then smiled at each other.
“The fish and chips are on special tonight,” Horace said. “You should try it.”
“Two,” I replied, after Noelle gave me a little nod.
“That was easy,” she said, smiling.
“Horace seems to take good care of his customers.”
“He’s been here for a long time. He knows everyone and everything that goes on in town.”
“I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or terrifying.”
She smiled. “Horace is a good guy.”
“Oh, I meant to ask you earlier.” I pulled out my phone. “How would you like to go to Vancouver to see the Vipers play? I can get tickets for Tuesday night.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Really? Doesn’t hockey…bore you?”
I burst out laughing. “Really? I just bought an entire team because I missed it so much. Believe me, hockey never bores me.”
“Then, yes, I’d like to go. Very much.”
“I’ll get the tickets.”
Our food arrived and we talked about all kinds of things as we ate. She was funny and well-read, but I noticed she didn’t talk about herself much. She told me about her friend Connie’s kids, funny things that happened at the arena, and that she’d been a right wing when she played hockey. Beyond that, she kept the conversation light and deflected whenever I asked her anything personal.
“Are your parents still alive?” I asked her once we’d finished eating.
She shook her head. “My mom is, but I never knew my dad. He left when I was a baby. Mom moved to the States to take care of her mother when I turned eighteen.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“She didn’t ask.” She finished the rest of her eggnog in one big gulp. “We’re not close.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you close to your mom?”
“Yup. And my brothers too.”
“That sounds nice. I’m an only child and Mom, well, she’s difficult. She essentially blames me for my dad leaving. Like I’m the one who got pregnant and had me.”
“Parents can be difficult. My dad and I weren’t close either. And now he’s gone.”
“Do you regret not working harder to have a better relationship now that he’s passed away?”
“Not really. Once he and Mom officially separated, he kind of separated from us kids too. I was already an adult and Kingston was in college, but it was still hard. When I had the heart attack and we found out it was genetic, I immediately had the boys—my brothers—tested. Luckily, they’re okay, but Dad refused, saying he’d been fine for nearly sixty years and the tests wouldn’t change anything.”
“You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved.”
“No, you can’t. I do work harder at staying in touch with my mom and brothers, though. Kingston’s on tour and Ashton’s in college, so it’s not easy, but we try to meet up for Christmas, birthdays, whenever we can.”
“Are you going home for Christmas?”
“My mom is still in Vancouver, so yes, I’ll be home for Christmas. Ashton too. We’re not sure about Kingston, but he said he’s trying to work it out.”
“The last Christmas I spent with my mom, she drank until she passed out and told me she forgot to buy me anything.”
“Your mom sounds lovely,” I muttered, unable to hide my annoyance.
“Just gives me a goal, you know?”
“A goal?”
“The kind of mother I don’t want to be if I ever become one.”
Chapter Eight
Noelle
* * *
I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to me talking about having kids, but his face was serious as he nodded.
“Ditto. About the kind of father I don’t want to be.”
“Do you want kids?”
“I do.” He nodded slowly. “With the right woman, and definitely not in the next year while I get this new team off the ground, but yeah. I can’t wait to do all the things my—” He was cut off by the loud ringing of my phone. Connie’s name flashed on the screen, and I frowned. It was late, especially for her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My friend Connie never calls this late—hang on. Con?”
“Oh thank god.” Connie sounded frantic.
“What’s wrong?”
“A pipe burst and I can’t reach the landlord. A plumber won’t even come out without giving them a credit card number and we don’t have one anymore.”
“I don’t either,” I said miserably. “Where’s Craig? Can’t he do something?”
“He’s not here and I can’t reach him either.” Connie sounded panicked. “There’s water everywhere and the baby’s crying…I don’t know what to do!” She burst into tears.
“Con, I don’t know what to do either. Without a credit card—”
“I have a credit card,” Remy interrupted me. “What do you need?”
His gaze was calm and steady, and he put one of his big, warm hands over one of mine, but I couldn’t let him get involved.
“I…” I cleared my throat. “Con, it’ll take me about forty-five minutes to get there, but I’ll leave now, okay? We’ll figure it out.” I disconnected and reached for my purse, giving Remy an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Connie’s having an issue and she doesn’t know where her fiancé is.”
“Why do you need a credit card? Let me help.”
“I don’t know how long it would be before they could pay you back,” I said slowly. “It’s wonderful of you to offer but—”
“I’m not worried about being paid back. It’s the holidays and if someone is struggling, I have the means to help. So let me. Please. It makes me feel good.”
“You don’t even know Connie,” I protested, though the fight had all but left me.
“But I know you and she’s obviously important to you.”
Here we were with another one of those situations where you had to compromise your principles for common sense. It was freezing cold and if there was water leaking into Connie’s apartment, she had those babies to think about. My pride, her pride, no one’s pride was going to keep those kids safe and warm.
“There’s a leak and water everywhere but she can’t reach the landlord and the plumbers she’s called need a credit card on file or they won’t even make the trip. Neither of us have one.”
“Give me her address,” he said, pulling out his phone. He started typing something on the keyboard and then motioned to Horace. “Horace—you got a pen and a piece of paper?”
“Sure thing, Remy!” Horace called back, picking up a pen and a small pad from behind the register and bringing it over to us.
“Thanks.” Remy looked up at me, the pen in his left hand as he wrote down the address I recited for him.
“You’re a leftie,” I said absently. “I am too.”
“I wonder if two lefties would have kids who were left-handed too?”
“Is it genetic?” I asked.
“I dunno.” He grinned. “But I’ll look it up after I call this plumber I found.”
It took him about fifteen minutes, but he found a plumber willing to go right to Connie’s place and I texted her to expect him soon.
“I still think I need to go,” I told him. “She’ll probably need help with the kids and cleaning up and stuff.”
“Okay, let’s both go.” He grabbed his keys.
“You don’t have to come.”
“It’s freezing out and looks like it’s starting to snow. The roads might be slippery.”
“I’ve been driving on slippery roads my entire life,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but it makes me feel macho to pretend I’m taking care of an obviously independent, self-sufficient woman like you.” His eyes twinkled with mirth and we both laughed.
* * *
We drove to Connie’s and despite our banter, it was nice to have someone else in charge. Connie and I were strong, independent women for the most part, but it was hard to be strong or independent when you were broke. Being strong wasn’t going to get a plumber out to the apartment. As much as it made me uncomfortable for Remy to be helping Connie, at least it wasn’t for me. I wanted to keep my current living situation a secret from him because it was embarrassing enough for a few friends to know, but Remy was a whole other ball game. He would be leaving Garland Grove by Christmas anyway, and if we could have fun together until then, it would be amazing. I didn’t want pity, though. And I definitely didn’t need a guy to swoop in and save me.
Well, okay, who was I kidding? I did need that, but only it if was someone who loved me and wanted to be with me. Someone like Remy, who was here today and essentially gone tomorrow, would only make me feel bad about myself, and I already felt pretty miserable about the direction my life had taken. The truth was, until I liked myself, how could anyone else? That was something I was working on, but Remy was the first guy I’d clicked with like this in a long time, so the last thing I was going to do was let him know just how down on my luck I was.
“You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” Connie said for what had to be the tenth time. Remy had found the pipe that burst and turned off the water coming into the apartment, and the emergency plumber would be here any minute.
“It’s my pleasure,” Remy said, smiling at her.
Damn, he looked good enough to eat with the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows. His forearms were muscular and veiny, with the edge of a tattoo snaking down and around his left one. His normally slicked-back dark hair was a little unkempt at the moment, a piece falling forward over one eye and making him look younger.
Connie caught me ogling his behind and elbowed me in the ribs as we swallowed down giggles. Not that Remy’s ass was a reason to laugh—it was downright delectable—but the fact that we were acting like schoolgirls with crushes was the most fun we’d had together in years.
The plumber got there as we were trying to sop up the water with towels, and Connie took both kids into her bedroom to try to get them to sleep. Remy talked to and worked with the plumber quietly and efficiently, as if he dealt with leaks all the time, and I finally collapsed on the couch. It had been a long day, and by the time the plumber left, it was three in the morning.
“You look tired,” Remy said, sinking down next to me.
“I am. You?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but we should get going since it’s about a forty-minute drive.”
“That’s far at three in the morning. Let’s just get a little rest here until morning and then drive back. I can’t even keep my eyes open.”
He seemed conflicted but then nodded. “I could use a few hours of shut-eye.”
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I whispered, settling against his side.
“You’re welcome.” He pressed a soft kiss on the top of my head and then I was asleep.
* * *
I woke to a crick in my neck and my bladder screaming for mercy, so I went into the bathroom to relieve myself. Remy was still asleep on the couch where we’d given up trying to be comfortable and just relaxed as best we could. We probably should have driven home but I was worried about Connie and it had been so late. Besides, sleeping curled up on a couch next to Remy was way better than sleeping on the cold, rubber floor mats in the women’s locker room at the arena.
“Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?!” Craig’s voice boomed through the apartment, and I jumped, yanking up my jeans and running out to the living room.
Remy and Craig were nose to nose, Craig’s hands balled into fists at his side.
“Connie!” He yelled out her name even louder.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Craig.” I hurried next to Remy. “Would you settle down? This is…my boyfriend. We came to help Connie with the leak in the kitchen.”
Craig was still shooting daggers at Remy with his eyes and Remy didn’t even flinch, but Connie came running into the living room, eyes wide.
“Craig, I swear to god, if you wake the kids…”
“You can’t bring a man into my house when I’m not here,” he growled. “How did you expect me to respond?”
“I expect you to show a little gratitude since your children and I were standing in four inches of water before Remy and Noelle got here.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“I did! At least ten times.”
Craig looked startled and then yanked his phone out of his pocket. “It’s dead,” he muttered. “Damn battery doesn’t last for shit.”
“We should go,” I murmured to Remy, who nodded.
“Thanks for your help,” Connie said to us.
“Anytime.” I gave her a quick hug and pulled on my boots.
Craig didn’t say a word, merely disappeared into the bedroom and Connie stared after him with a sigh. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay.” I squeezed her hand. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Thanks again. You too, Remy.” She swallowed, looking from me to Remy and back. “Could we, uh, not say anything about who paid the plumber? I’ll find a way to pay you back but—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Remy said quickly. “Really. It was my pleasure. Any friend of Noelle’s is a friend of mine.”
Chapter Nine
Remy
* * *
We got into my rental and I turned the heat up. It was six in the morning and I’d had less than three hours of sleep. I couldn’t wait to get back to the bed and breakfast and stretch out on a real bed. Three more hours would be plenty. The only question was whether or not I could get Noelle to come with me. I wasn’t even particularly interested in sex at this early juncture, but cuddling with her, spending a little time alone would be nice. She was always running off somewhere to do something, and for once, I wanted to just hang out.
“Sorry I had to tell him you were my boyfriend,” she said once we were on the road. “It was the easiest way to diffuse the situation.”
“No worries. That’s what I figured.” I reached across the center console for her hand. “So, since we’re a couple now, I have a question.”
“Hmm?” She was half asleep.
“Want to come back to my place with me and take a nap? I’m serious about the nap too. This isn’t some half-assed ploy to get you into bed, because if that was the case, I’d just say that’s what I wanted. And let me be clear—I would very much like to get you into bed, just not when we’re both dead on our feet like we are now.”
“I’m twenty-seven,” she said, gazing over at me. “This would not be the first time I’ve slept with a guy without having sex. I’ll also be honest and say that I would very much like to see you naked at some point, but you’re right, not when we’re both exhausted like this. The way I feel right now, I think I’d sleep through it.”
“Trust me, sweetheart. If and when that happens, you’re not going to sleep through any of it.”
“I have no doubt.” Her eyes fluttered closed but there was a smile on her lips as she leaned back in the seat.
We slept more than three hours. It was almost seven-thirty before we finally got into bed and the next time I looked at my phone, it was noon. Noelle was still fast asleep, snoring softly, and I took a moment to drink in the sight of her in my bed. She looked so young when she slept, her face devoid of makeup and buried in the side of her pillow. She was striking, though, even with those beautiful green eyes closed. Her pink lips were parted softly, and they were curved into the tiniest smile, as if she were dreaming about something nice.
Desire rippled through me.
I really wanted to touch her but even though she’d slept beside me willingly, I’d never assume anything about a woman I was interested in having sex with. Until she was awake enough to give me a green light, I’d have to be happy just watching her sleep. She was sleeping hard, too, as if she didn’t sleep enough. I thought she was gorgeous, but there was no mistaking the faint dark circles under her eyes or the wariness in her eyes when I asked her things like where her gloves were. I sensed she didn’t have any, but she was cagey about those types of things.
