Page 20

Chapter Twenty

“Settle in, Puckleberries! This is gonna be a doozy! We’ve got the annual Renegades Foundation Golf Tournament underway. You know what that means. Your’s truly is dolled up in her golf skort and polo shirt and heading undercover to get all the tea. #OnAMission” Penni’s Puckleberry Tea

Novy

“He told me to mind my own business. So that’s what I’m doing. Minding my own damn business. He wants his head to explode, who am I to stop him?”

Scout fumbled in the dash between us in her fancy red Audi, lifting a gigantic travel mug to her lips. She took a tiny sip, winced, and returned the cup to the console. “So prickly,” she said.

I nodded and repeated in agreement, “So prickly.”

It was a gorgeous Saturday morning. Scout had checked off the last of her concussion boxes and received her certificate of good health earlier in the week. She’d moved back to her townhouse against her mother’s wishes, vetoed the trip to California and sported a thin pink line from her eyebrow to her forehead. From the grin she wore, my girl was well satisfied with her life choices at the moment.

“What are we doing again?”

She’d called me last night while I’d been aimlessly scrolling through Renegades videos on YouTube. Pretending even as I lingered on the ones featuring Boh that I wasn’t looking at him , just the team . I’d acquired a new skill: lying to myself. When Scout called and invited me to a Pendleton event, I’d leapt on the chance to get out of the apartment.

“The annual Renegades Foundation Golf Tournament. I wasn’t going to come this year, but Aunt Minerva called and insisted I make an appearance. I’ve gotten alot better at telling Mom no, but I’m not sure anyone ever tells Minerva no.”

Clyde poked his big head between the seats. I gave his ear a scratch. “We had fun last year with the golf carts,” I said, smiling at the memory. “And the year before with the bubble makers? We had a blast with those. We had everyone smiling that year.”

She laughed, but the sound had an edge to it. “That was childish, Novy. We’re too grown for that kind of behavior.”

I slanted her a look as she turned into a parking lot. “Childish? Maybe, but it was fun. And remember a couple years ago when the players were shooting each other from the carts with Nerf guns? That was also childish, but everyone was laughing and having a good time.”

She didn’t answer, pulling the car into an empty spot and scanning the parking lot. A Pendleton event in Richland meant Renegade players, even in the off-season. I did a quick survey, recognized Shep Landon and his sister along with a tall dark-haired man. And at the top of the lot where a sidewalk led up to the clubhouse stood the Renegades head coach, Etienne Trasier.

“Your dad’s here, Clyde.” I waved through the windshield. He didn’t wave back.

Scout murmured something under her breath. She’d wrapped her hands around the steering wheel tight enough her knuckles glowed.

I touched her shoulder. “Scout? Is it your head? Your knee?”

She jumped, dropped her hands and sent me a quick, forced smile. “Nope! All good! Let’s get going before they take all the good carts.”

Scout clambered out of the car, her mobility a hundred times improved since I’d driven her home. She wore the brace over a pair of faded jeans, but it didn’t hamper her as she unloaded Clyde and headed toward the far side of the parking lot. The path that circled around to the back of the clubhouse. The path furthest away from Etienne.

Around the back, we joined the steady stream of people making their way to the veranda outside the clubhouse. Country club staff flitted through the area offering drinks and finger food. A gentle breeze blew in off the golf course, the scent of the clean fresh outdoors restoring my mood with effortless ease. I pushed thoughts of Boh from my mind and stuck close to Scout’s side as she skillfully navigated the minefield that was any Pendleton family event.

When she greeted her father, he bussed her cheek, then turned to me with a welcoming smile and two-handed handshake. He asked about her injury, but Scout brushed off the worry.

“Seriously, I’m fine, Dad. It looks worse than it is and the doctor at Brightside said I passed all the tests with flying colors. And look,” she balanced on one foot and bent her knee, “the ortho doc had my physical therapist open up the brace even more. Walking’s a breeze now.”

As the crowd on the veranda grew, we shifted to make room. A loud laugh caught my attention and I caught sight of Etienne Trasier making his way through the milling people. His eyes shooting daggers at Scout. Interesting.

“What about work? Did you have—”

“I was able to reschedule a lot of my regulars and I have an arrangement with another groomer to cover downtime, anyway. We help each other out for vacations and things. It’s fine, Dad. Promise.”

“I just don’t want you to lose your investment.”

“I appreciate that, but everything’s handled.”

“What about for your trip to California?”

“When are you heading to California?” Etienne smoothly inserted himself into our conversation.

Pink color flagged high on Scout’s cheeks. “I’m not going to California.”

“Your mother said she made an appointment—”

Scout interrupted her dad with a shake of her head. “Nope. That was all a misunderstanding. She wanted me to see some fancy plastics surgery specialist for the bump on my head, but she was overreacting. I’m fine.”

" Sacrament ! It's not just a little bump, c'est une serious laceration!" The coach’s exclamation shocked everyone into a moment of silence.

Clyde chose that moment to bulldoze his way between the humans and demand Scout’s attention. She laughed and bent at the waist to get eye-level with the beast. “Yes, sir, Clyde. Apologies for ignoring you.”

Etienne scraped his hand through his hair, tugging strands of hair free from the man bun at the back of his head. “Don’t let him push you too hard.”

I caught Scout’s heartbeat of hesitation as she scrunched her fingers into the thick fur along Clyde’s neck. If I didn’t know her so well, I might have missed the way her eyes blinked closed a second longer than normal. I looked up at Etienne to find his gaze locked on my best friend in a way I’d never seen before.

For years, I’d trailed along after Scout as she trailed along after Etienne. We’d been girls when he first came to the team in a high-value trade. From the moment he first stepped foot on Pendleton grounds, Scout couldn’t take her gaze from him. The years passed, but her fascination with the man never wavered.

She’d yet to confess what had happened at the spring picnic I missed, but seeing the way she avoided his gaze now, worry rippled through me.

She bussed a kiss on her dad’s cheek as he said his goodbyes before turning to the head coach. “Clyde is just what I need.”

“ écoute , you need to rest, work on rehab for your knee—”

She straightened, bright color flagging her cheeks and eyes narrowed. “I got it, Coach. I know exactly what I need and I’ve got it.”

Etienne stared at her for a long beat then shook his head. For the first time in all the years I’d known him, he didn’t look a hundred percent put together. Any other time, he’d arrive to a Renegades organization event impeccably attired in some ultra fashionable suit. Today, he wore the suit, but he looked more like a bird of prey with ruffled feathers than the suave man we’d come to know over the last couple of years.

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Scout walked away.

A team employee I recognized from the PR department herded people out from under the veranda to the golf carts lining a circular drive. Scout and I stood at the edge of the path awaiting our turn when Shep Landon hustled up to our little group. “Scout,” he declared, arms stretched wide. “I am in need of your assistance. Say you’ll be my partner for the tournament. We have to stomp my sister and Santiago.”

She shook her head. “Nope, I’m gonna take Clyde. You won’t have enough space.”

When Shep looked like he was about to argue, Etienne pushed forward. “Scout, you’ll ride with me, oui ? So I can help with Clyde?”

Scout’s eyes narrowed. “That song never changes, does it?”

“Pardon?”

“Clyde is fine. He’ll sit in the back seat like he did last year. Won’t you, bud? Novy and I will share a cart.” She rubbed the side of his muzzle.

I stepped into the sudden tension. “Yep, and if he needs help, I can help Clyde.”

Etienne’s lips tightened, but he was too much of a gentleman to protest my suggestion. But I cataloged the evidence that whatever had happened at that picnic, it hadn’t been one-sided.

Shep pulled me into a side hug. “I’m gonna have to nix that idea, Novy. I need a fourth in my group and I call dibs on you.”

Shep’s golden good looks should steal the breath right out of my chest. Laughing, I grabbed his arm and twisted free of his hold. His sister, Shy, stood just behind him, her eyes rolling at her brother's shenanigans. But we’d all grown up with the man; he couldn’t stop himself. Shy introduced the dark, quiet man behind her as her partner, Santiago.

Amidst the camaraderie, it was easy to forget Shep’s prowess on the ice. He played right wing on the top line opposite Boh. He was what the league called a sniper, his ability to arrow the puck into the net unparalleled. People spoke of his stats in awed tones.

The winger refastened his arm around my shoulders, which took me a little by surprise. “Novy,” he said, “do you know I only just found out you were the one bamboozled into playing DMG for Boh? How’d they convince you?”

“It’s not as big a deal as all that. Little more than roommates, really.”

With more subtlety than I would have given him credit for, Shep had shifted us out of the little group. A few steps away, Etienne stood over Clyde and Scout, his head bent to hers. She nodded at whatever he said. I waited a long moment, taking in the way she let him crowd her, the way she didn’t pull away when he waved in the direction of the golf course. When she nodded again, I let Shep drag me down to the carts.

Shep pulled me in for another hug, before directing our little party toward a silver cart with a big Renegades stallion on the tiny hood at the front of a long line of customized golf carts. “I’m driving, Tiago,” Shep said. “I’ll fight ya for it.”

The dark-haired man gave a slow smile, a glint in his eyes that spoke volumes. “Perfect, my brother. I will keep Shy company in the back. Please drive responsibly with such precious cargo.”

Shep straightened. “On second thought, I think you should drive. Keep your hands occupied for a while.” He shuffled me toward the back bench seat. “And drive carefully, my brother. Precious cargo.” He finished with a wink down at me.

Shy groaned out a laugh, but took the front passenger seat as Santiago settled in behind the wheel.

“Wait a minute, people. What if I want to drive?” I asked, flipping my hair with an overly dramatic motion only to have the wind blow strands back into my face.

Shy snorted. “Good luck making that happen with these two. Control freaks.”

Shep tugged me onto the bench seat beside him. “You don’t want to drive. We have too much to talk about. We can’t afford you getting distracted.”

Santiago got us rolling along the path, trailing another team, with another cart behind ours with all the clubs. I knew enough about golf to get by without completely embarrassing myself and I had that knowledge only due to taking lessons with Scout as a teenager at her father’s insistence. We’d done more mooning over cute caddies than learning how to putt, but it’d been a good time.

“I bet he’s got a thing for you already.” Shep spoke just loud enough to carry over the wind.

I rolled my eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Boh. You are exactly Boh’s type. Trust me, I know.”

I called up to the couple in the seat in front of me. “Do you guys want to go hard and see if we can win this golf tournament? I know Shep is good. I’m a novice, at best. How about you two?”

Shy wiggled around so she could face me. “Zacha has spent every holiday, every off-season, every everything with us since he came to the Renegades six years ago. You are exactly his type.”

I fell back onto the bench seat. “Not you, too.” I picked at the pleats of my pink golf skort. I think it had a name other than ‘skort’ but if you combined shorts and a skirt, really, you had to call the result a skort. “Tiago, maybe you could drive faster? Maybe if I’m armed with a golf club, these two will leave me alone.”

Shep snorted. “Not likely. Boh might as well be my brother. I know the man better than he knows himself. He was already on edge in the months after the first concussion. Add in the thing with Trent and Aubrey, and then the accident with Hammer… ”

I pinched the hem of my skirt. “The thing with Trent?”

The cart swept around a curve in the path and Shep held onto the handle attached to the roof. “It was a mess. Boh’d had a bad practice, decided to let off a little steam with the rest of us at the Puck’n Boards and have a drink, which turned into a few drinks. Last year was a crazy season, what with all the records we were breaking, both as a team and individually. Everyone was playing like it was the last time they’d ever be on ice. Every night we found something new to celebrate. That night, I think we celebrated one of the guys hitting 600 points. But Boh, he was celebrating to drink. Not drinking to celebrate, if you know what I mean.”

“I’ve seen a couple videos.”

“You saw him kissing Aubrey, then, yeah?”

I jammed my nail into the fabric of my skirt. “Yeah.”

“Aubrey has always had an obsession with him, but she’s been dating one of our teammates for a while now. I thought she’d gotten over her feelings for Boh. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol or frustration about his practice or tired of Trent’s constant BS, but whatever it was, he gave in when she put the moves on him. He regretted it immediately. Only reason he got in the car with Hammer that night.”

I nodded, letting my friend know I heard him, but I didn’t know what to say. I turned to watch the green pass by, and shifted to see how far we’d driven from the clubhouse. Pretty much the same as what Boh said.

Boh’s explanation the other day lingered in my mind. I believed him. He did regret kissing his teammate’s girl. I was letting it take up too much headspace. While it was crappy that Aubrey was a teammate’s girlfriend at the time, Boh had kissed lots of girls and if I wasn’t bothered by them, I needed to not be bothered by Aubrey. I wasn’t his teammate, after all. We didn’t have an unspoken code between us that he’d broken. I’d wanted to be his friend, to give him some support as he worked through his recovery.

But he had friends who knew him well. Had he shared with them about his condition? The risks he was facing?

Maybe he felt like he couldn’t because he’d broken their code of no sisters, no girlfriends, no wives.

I eyed the affable man beside me. As close as Boh and Shep were, could Boh talk with him?

As the cart hummed along the winding path to the green, I fidgeted in the seat beside Shep as he entertained us all with a wacky story from his most recent volunteer duties. A gentle breeze sifted through the towering oaks and sycamores surrounding the course. Sunshine sparkled off the silver carts ahead of us and behind. I wished someone had brought Nerf guns. Or those monster-sized guns that shot streams of water ten feet or more.

In the distance, the two-story clubhouse jutted into the pretty blue horizon, puffy clouds lending the structure a soft backdrop. The expansive veranda and stone patio were dotted with people. One man stood out from the rest as he leaned against a pillar. A woman sat on the low wall beside him. “Is that her?”

Shep twisted around on the seat, his knee bumping my leg. His expression tightened, his lips pulling into a grimace. “Yeah.”

“I’ve seen her around before.”

“Yeah. She’s come to events with Trent. But they split after the incident at the Puck'n’ Boards, so not sure how she got an invite today.”

The path rounded a bend, putting us parallel to the clubhouse and I forced myself to take an honest inventory. The woman was tall, blonde, with a slim, waifish figure. She stood, then, moving right up close to Boh. To a stranger looking on, anyone would think they were together.

It shouldn’t bother me. Hadn’t Boh just put me in my place? Reminded me only last night that I was little more than hired help? Nothing personal.

Despite the kisses. The touches. The hunger that burned a pit in the bottom of my stomach.

“Don’t look too much into it, Novy. He has zero interest in her.”

I nodded. Settled my gaze on the upcoming tee. “It’s nothing to me. I’m not on Designated Medical Guardian duty today. Today is about beating Scout’s score.”

“Now, Novy, I’m not too confident of your odds there.” Shep grinned as the cart came to stop.

A quartet of men, hockey players telling by the breadth of their shoulders and the awkward way they swung their golf clubs, stood on the tee. One strut forward, winding up to take a swing.

“Oh, I am super confident,” I told Shep. “I took the same lessons she did and this is my third tournament. I’ve got the kinks worked out now. She’s going down.”

Shy and Tiago wandered back to our caddy cart, smiling and joking around with the pair assigned to us. As part of the fundraising tournament, people had bid to have a chance to caddy for the Renegade players and others attending the tournament, but they seemed just as content to chat with Shy and the mysterious Santiago.

Spectators lined the edges of the green. Carts lined up ahead and behind us on the path. Would Boh be participating in the actual golf part of today’s event or would he be too occupied at the clubhouse?

I shrugged the unpleasant thought away. The quartet finished, climbed back into their cart and took off. Scout, Etienne and Clyde waited several carts back.

Tiago led us off for our group, hitting a solid ball right up to the flag. Shy squealed, clapping at his good hit. “All those business meetings are paying off, I see.”

She lined her ball up, swaying her hips in her simple tan golf skirt. She swung, hit, and the ball sailed over the green to land even closer to the hole. “Pretty one, conejita .”

She grinned at her partner before stepping aside for me to take my turn. I wanted to do well, I wanted to focus on the game and not on what Boh might be doing with Aubrey behind me. I set my ball on the tee, sent the caddy a grateful smile, and lined up. Elbows tucked, knees slightly bent, and swung.

We all followed the ball as it sailed over the green, a tiny white spot in the blue Virginia sky. I’d done well.

Shep swaggered up to the tee, swung like he’d been born with a club in his hand and sent the ball soaring through the crisp morning air.

None of us were surprised when it bounced on the green and rolled with smooth precision right into the hole. I shook my head at his grinning face. “I’d say congrats, but we’re just getting started. I’m betting this is the year you miss more than you make.”

He had the record for the most hole-in-ones for the tournament.

The next two holes went much the same. Shep flubbed one swing, sending his ball off into the rough. His stunned expression sent us into gales of laughter.

I’d promised to stop checking on Boh and my companions made that an easy promise to keep. So an hour later when a feminine squeal announced the presence of a newcomer, I jumped. The carts had started to spread out as everyone progressed through the course. But I saw now that a new cart had pulled up behind our caddy.

Aubrey, her blonde hair bouncing with every step, hurtled toward Shep. He caught her when she landed against his chest with a grunt. My gaze flew to the cart to see Boh making his way toward us at a slower pace.

His gaze locked on mine. “What are you doing here?”

“Doing at an event put on by the grandfather of my best friend?” I said, a defensive snap in my tone I didn’t bother to hide. “Same thing I’ve done every other year. Playing golf.”

He looked surprised, but still angry.

“Boh, brother!” Shep untangled himself from Aubrey and bolted to my side, slinging his arm over my shoulders.

Boh’s eyes flared. “How do you two know each other?”

“I think it’s been mentioned since the two of us met that I’m friends with Scout. This isn’t news. She wanted to come, so we came. I’ve known Shep forever, since he was a scrawny little hockey prodigy.”

Shep tugged my ponytail. “I’ve never been scrawny a day in my life. I was born the sexy specimen you see before you now.”

“You’re up, Novy!” Shy called from her spot on the grass.

I slipped free of Shep’s hold without another word to Boh. If he wanted to be a dick, he could do it without my help.

We pushed ahead two more holes with Boh, Aubrey and the two other men in their group trailing hot on our tail.

His presence made me self-conscious. Stole some of the fun, though Shep seemed to pick up on the change in me and tried even harder to pull a smile to my lips. If I had to have a thing for a hockey player, why couldn’t it have been Shep?