Lucky Score (The Hawkeyes Hockey Series Book 6) -
Chapter 11
It’s the next day after spending yesterday outside in the rain and wind, trying to assess the damage on both houses.
Rita and I got lucky.
I took a morning run on the beach, running a couple of miles down both sides. Some homes didn’t fare as well as ours.
Broken windows.
Clay roof shingles shattered on the ground.
Downed palm trees that didn’t hold up in the gale-force winds.
Most of the homes that were left in bad shape were abandoned days before the storm hit, and no preparations were made.
On the other hand, Rita and I were prepared, and both of our homes will only need minor repairs.
Some of the stucco on both homes has areas where large items hit the siding and will need some patchwork. Since most of these are purely cosmetic, I’ll hire a good contractor before I leave for Seattle to fix them while I’m gone.
The number of broken branches, palm fronds, and random debris scattered around the beaches and against our homes was significant, and cleaning up those took most of the day.
I made a large pile of organic material and another one of garbage.
I did have to take down two of my solar panels, which must have taken the big hit that I heard right before I heard Brynn in distress that night and brought her into bed with me.
That was yet another mistake.
I knew she’d be a distraction for me if I let her get too close, and her ass against my cock was definitely too close.
I moved her back to her bed as soon as I knew she was through the worst of it and the storm was starting to pass us.
Then, the moment I walked in and saw that she had made me dinner, I knew that she had a kindness about her that I haven’t seen in another person in a long time.
She’s beautiful and a smart, accomplished author. She’s also about ten years younger than me, with her entire life in front of her. No doubt she probably wants a family. Something I’ve also thought I’d have by now. But then my ex happened.
Letting Bynn sleep in my bed and waking up to her in the morning would be too easy a temptation. Which is why I moved her as soon as the storm settled down last night and she was fast asleep.
I need to keep boundaries between us, and my cock pushing up against her ass cheeks all night was the reminder that we need to keep a large gap, both physically and otherwise, between us.
I meant what I whispered to myself in that bed.
Brynn is trouble, a danger to my current plans to not let another woman into my life who can set fire to everything I care about.
It’s been eighteen years since anyone’s been capable of doing that and I don’t plan on handing anyone else the matches and gasoline again.
I head into the house after my run to take a shower and then get back to work,
I still have a lot to do to clean up the beach and a few more things to do on both houses, but I’m not in as big of a rush this morning since most of the time-sensitive repairs that could cause water damage were fixed yesterday.
The power is still out but at least the generator I bought seems to be holding up and keeping most of the important things powered.
I walk into the bathroom and open the glass shower door. Reaching inside, I turn on the shower to let the hot water start up, when I get a call.
Rita calling…
I close the shower door and let it heat up as I slide the bar on my phone over to answer.
“Morning Rita,” I say.
“Good morning my hero. I heard about the other houses on the beach and that ours are in good shape because of you.”
“Who did you hear that from?” I ask.
Did she drive down to take a look this morning?
“I opened up this morning to start taking breakfast customers since our generator at the restaurant is big enough to handle our daily operation needs.”
She’s already opening up to take customers?
It shouldn’t shock me. Rita is one of those stubborn-headed individuals who probably would have kept the place open all through the storm if she didn’t think it would encourage people to put themself in harm’s way just to come in for dinner at Scallywag’s.
“Are you sure you’re ready to start back up so soon?”
It’s been less than forty-eight hours since the storm came through here.
“Yes, I’m sure. People need to eat, and many didn’t have a capable young man to fend off a hurricane for them. They could use a little pick-me-up today, and we’re going to provide it. I’m only offering a small menu, and everything is discounted to cover the cost of ingredients.”
Rita and Bart have always done stuff like this for their customers since I’ve known them.
They’re good people who have a solid community of individuals who love them. She praises me for taking care of her home, but if it hadn’t been me, one of her many regulars would have taken care of it for her.
“Well, that’s very generous of you. I’m sure everyone is grateful to have a hot meal with the power still being out.”
“Speaking of which…” she starts.
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Could I convince you to come down and look at the generator for me? It’s acting a little fussy this morning and I just want to make sure everything runs smoothly today. I’ll bribe you with whatever you want to eat.”
She knows that she doesn’t have to ask for a favor. Anything she needs, I’ll show up for her, just like she and Bart have always showed up for me.
“You don’t have to bribe me. But I also won’t turn down breakfast. Is Miguel cooking this morning?” I ask of her long-time chef, who should probably be cooking at a Michelin-star restaurant in some large city but instead he likes the freedom and low pressure of Scallywag’s. He and his wife Marie have lived here almost as long as Rita, and he’s been the chef since Scallywag’s opened.
His cooking has a lot to do with why Scallywag’s is as popular as it is.
Between the company and atmosphere that Rita and Bart created, along with the food, there’s never a slow time for them.
I miss the long days on my fishing boat with Bart, discussing current events, human nature, the thriller book I borrowed from his bookshelf, and, occasionally, Greek mythology.
The man knew a lot about a lot, and I could have listened to him talk about how concrete dries, in real-time, and he’d still keep me engaged and interested until the very end.
Since I lost touch with my parents after Josslin and I broke up, Bart and Rita filled in a gaping hole that I didn’t know needed to be filled until I showed up on this beach with a house that needed more work than I was told and a lack of stability in my life.
They are the place I call “home” when people ask where I go after the hockey season is over for the year.
“I’m jumping in the shower now, and then I’ll load up some tools and head over,” I say.
“You’re a doll. Bring your house guest with you. I’ll feed her, too. See you soon, hun.”
Bringing Brynn along is the opposite of what I’m trying to accomplish by keeping my distance until I get her on a plane and head back home.
With Brynn’s tight deadline coming up, I doubt she’ll agree anyway, and since she’s not awake yet, I’ll be gone before she gets up.
After our conversation, I take off my boxers and step under the shower spray letting the hot stream of water run over my aching muscles from all the hours I spent outside yesterday.
The smell of my body wash pulls me back to two nights ago when I inhaled the same fragrance in Brynn’s hair all night long.
For a second, I’m taken back to the feeling of her against me, but I know better than to let myself go back to that night. Rubbing one out to the memory of a terrified Brynn is too fucked up, even for me.
After she leaves, I’ll have to pick up a different bottle of the men’s three-in-one shampoo because this one no longer smells like an ordinary body wash. Now this fragrance is attached to a memory, a memory I need to forget.
I dry off, get dressed, and then head for the kitchen to leave Brynn a note.
Right as I finish telling Brynn that I’ll be gone for the day, I hear her door open.
I guess telling her in person works too.
“Good morning,” she says, turning into the kitchen.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
“I did. And I got a lot of work done yesterday,” her eyes connect with the pen in my hand and the notebook that I’m hovering over. “Did you see the note I left you about dinner?”
She made me a plate of food and left it in the fridge. It wasn’t necessary for her to go out of her way. I appreciate the effort anyway and I inhaled the food.
“I did. The food was good. Thanks for doing that.”
She nods.
“What are you writing?”
“I was leaving you a note to tell you that Rita needs a hand at Scallywag’s. I’m going to round up my tools and head over there. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but you’ll have the house to write alone again today.”
Her eyes go wide with excitement.
“You’re going out? Can I come too? I’m feeling a little claustrophobic after being stuck in this house for almost four days. I could use some fresh air.”
She’s right; she hasn’t been out since the night she showed up at my front door days ago.
I don’t blame her for wanting to get out and Rita will keep her entertained. It’s not as if I won’t be busy the entire time anyway.
“Sure, but I need to leave soon—”
“I’ll be fast, I promise. Just let me change and brush my teeth. I’ll be two minutes, tops.”
The second I nod in agreement, Brynn turns around and races down the hallway as if I’m timing her.
“Bring your laptop. We might be there awhile,” I yell after her.
I head out to my garage to load up my black four-door Jeep with all of the tools I might need to work on the generator and any other surprises that might come up while I’m there.
At the very least, I should check on the roof since it’s also made of clay roof tiles and a few have looked a little loose to me this summer.
I don’t want any of those to come loose after the storm and whack someone in the head when they’re coming in or out of the restaurant.
“I’m ready!” I hear Brynn say.
I’m standing at the back of the jeep with the back gate open, loading up my toolboxes, when I look up to see Brynn.
She’s in a short, yellow, flowy summer dress with brown leather strappy sandals, her short brown hair in a ponytail, and her black laptop bag over her shoulder.
She smiles at me, and my vision narrows in on the hem of her dress, swaying back and forth over her tan thighs as she walks through the garage and towards the back of the jeep.
She slips on a pair of shades as she steps up to me.
“Are you all set?” she asks, but I barely hear the words she’s saying when my eyes lock onto her pink glossy lips, begging me to dip down and taste them.
I look away quickly and clear my throat.
Kissing Brynn is out of the question, because once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
I close the back of the jeep and move away from her, heading for the driver’s side door.
Should I have helped her put her laptop bag in the jeep?
Sure, that would have been nice.
Could I have walked over and opened the door for her?
My dad would have expected me to do so.
But avoidance is still vital in this situation, and the longer I stay close enough to touch her, the higher the probability it is that I’ll do something stupid, like run my hands up the back of her thigh to see how short that dress really is.
She lifts her laptop bag and passes it through the open window of the jeep, setting the bag on the back seat. Then she walks up to the front passenger door and opens it.
I watch as she thinks through how to navigate getting herself into my lifted jeep.
It shouldn’t be cute watching Brynn’s five-foot-something put effort into climbing into my Jeep, but fuck me, it is.
“Grab the “oh-shit” strap up there,” I say, pointing to the nylon handle strap built into the roof of the jeep’s frame. “ And then step up on the running boards.”
She follows my instructions quickly as if she’s worried that if she doesn’t hurry, I’ll back out of the garage and leave her here.
The second that her ass slides into the seat, she beams proudly over at me as if this is one of her greatest accomplishments.
“Got it!” she smiles.
“I see that. Nice work,” I say, trying to hold back a smirk that threatens to surface.
“I’ve never been in a lifted jeep before. And topless too? This is fun,” she says, reaching behind her to grab the seatbelt.
The image of her more than topless in my bathroom the first night she stayed with me, flashes through my memory.
“It’s nothing special. Hopefully, the weather holds up, or else it won’t be much fun on the drive home in the rain.”
She stretches her seatbelt across her chest while the nylon nestles between her full breasts and then secures it into the clip at her hip.
I’ve never been envious of nylon before.
“I don’t know, as long as it’s not a hurricane, that could be fun. You’re popping every single one of my jeep cherries in one day, aren’t you?” she snickers.
I whip a look over at her.
That comment caught me off guard.
The moment Brynn sees the look of surprise on my face at her last comment, her smile fades quickly, and her sunglass-covered face shifts forward.
I’ve been told that I have a resting asshole face from plenty of the guys on the team, whatever the hell that means. I can seem uninterested and put off without realizing it. Assuming I show any interest or notice of their existence at all.
But this time, she took me off guard, and for the first time in a while, I got tongue-tied, and my mind went blank.
Pop her cherry?
She has no idea how many firsts, or seconds, or thirds of hers I’d like to take. Though as a romance author, I’m curious to know how many she has left.
She must have to do “market research” with someone, right?
I’ve never asked her if she has a boyfriend back home. Though I think she would have brought it up by now if she had.
But considering I’ve been avoiding her for the last couple of days, we haven’t had a lot of time to have a heart-to-heart.
And it’s better this way.
I don’t need to know if she has someone waiting for her to return to Seattle because nothing is going to happen between us.
Still, I don’t want her thinking, I have a stick up my ass and can’t take a joke, so I say the first thing that comes to mind to smooth things over.
“You should have told me. I would have been more gentle with you for your first time.”
I look down, reach for the stick shift, and put the jeep in reverse to back out of the driveway.
I can feel Bryan’s eyes on me now; her jaw dropped. She wasn’t expecting that after my first reaction.
And then I hear the sweet sound of her laughing.
I pull out of the driveway and head down the road towards the bar.
“Radio?” I ask, reaching for the nob.
“Definitely.” She grins and leans back into the passenger seat.
I turn on the radio, and of course, Rupert Holmes – Escape starts blasting through the speakers.
Brynn knows every word and belts the song out as we drive down the road, her hand hanging out the window, letting the breeze whip through her fingers like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
I wish it did nothing for me.
But that would be a lie.
Being with Brynn is becoming uncomfortably… too comfortable.
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