Page 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Cam

After a close game of coach-assisted kids’ volleyball, I hop out of the pool and search for Christina.

She’s not anywhere outside that I can see, so I head into the kitchen through the French doors.

Greg snags me there to talk football. The Detroit game highlights on the large screen TV are being reviewed by the same retired-players-turned-commentators who have been making the same tired jokes for years.

I ooh and ahh in the right places of the snippets of game plays and slip away as soon as I can. Maria and Chris are huddled by the bar.

Maria glances up as I stride toward them, and ushers Chris out a door on the other side of the room. As I reach the doorway, they head upstairs. The same upstairs which has been roped off for the party. I’d thought today would be the perfect guise to spend time together in public. But now with her hiding from a party she’s sort of cohosting, I worry if something is wrong.

I circle, chatting to office staff and their families, keeping an eye on the doors from the main hall where the stairs are. Although for all I know, this house has another staircase or three.

Something chimes to indicate dinner is being served. There’s a huge buffet in the kitchen, and tables have been set up around the pool, complete with linens and pretty white folding chairs. This house could be a wedding venue, it’s got so much space.

I linger, hoping to join the buffet line when Chris re-emerges, but no such luck. I grab food and join a few teammates. Only then do I see Chris and Maria helping themselves. They never come out, and when I go in later, they’ve disappeared once more from the areas of the house open to guests.

I talk football, hockey strategizing, and holidays with the back office employees with half my mind on why Chris disappeared without a word. I texted her before the meal, but when I check it every ten minutes, my phone remains silent and dark.

Finally, dessert has been served, parents have talked their children out of a second round in the pool, and football has ended. There are a handful of us lingering, finishing drinks and watching the post-game analysis.

I stand and head toward the hall to the bathroom. Checking to ensure no one is watching, I veer off toward the patio doors. All it takes is a dozen long strides to reach her cottage. Barely refrain from pounding on her door, I knock quietly and try the door. It’s locked.

I turn back to look at the second floor, but Saint looms behind the patio doors. Fuck .

He frowns and steps outside. As he nears me, he asks, “Prancer, what the fuck are you doing?”

I’m in love, and I don’t care if the whole world knows. But we should have a conversation with Greg before anyone, and besides, I need to respect Christina’s wishes for secrecy. I come up with an answer that is truthful but vague. “I was concerned about Christina. She sort of disappeared from the party.”

“Dude, the owner’s sister is not your concern, dance partner or not.” He must see something on my face because he adds, “No. Please don’t tell me she is the person you’ve been oh so casually seeing.”

I swallow managing to maintain eye contact, but I’m not going to lie to my captain.

He leans in and hiss-whispers, “What the fuck are you thinking, Prancer? Hell, she’s a co-owner. You’re fucking with your career, never mind your boss’s boss’s boss. What if I’d been Greg Donovan?”

“I’d have played it off as being her dance partner. You only guessed because of our prior conversation.”

“Maybe, maybe not. He still wouldn’t have been happy at one of his younger players sniffing around his sister, and then he’d end up watching you more closely and possibly having it weigh in on your contract negotiations. Jesus.” He paces a few steps away, running his hand through his hair.

Turning back, he barks, “Let’s go. You and I are going to a different place, even your house, and having a drink and talking about this. Or not talking. Either way, you’re done here.”

“No. I meant it. I’m worried about her.”

“Then tell Mr. Donovan.”

“Ha.”

“Clearly not that worried about her, are you?” He arches a brow. “She’s at her home, with her brother and sister on hand, and that dancer chick is still around, too. She’s got people to talk to if she wants.”

I had ridden over with Jack and he’s still hanging around shmoozing with Greg, something I should have been doing but hadn’t been able to concentrate on.

Knowing Saint is right, I put my head down and follow him back into what in a normal house would be the family room. Here, it’s probably the media room or something. Or the ground floor media room. I shake my head and follow Saint’s lead, thanking our host for opening his home to us and providing such delicious food.

In Saint’s car, I stare out the window, trying not to stress about Christina’s silence. He lets me stew until we’re at my house, likely the best bet for a drink on a national holiday.

In an unspoken agreement, we grab a beer each and head out through the back door to lounge by the pool. Our relaxed poses counter the chaotic frenzy in my head.

“Talk to me, Prancer.”

“She ca—doesn’t plan to have children.” Even wanting advice, I won’t betray Christina’s confidence. “I want a family. There’s also a strict no-frat clause in our contracts, which she says Greg will expect her to abide by as well. So we planned to hang out until the charity ball then go our separate ways.”

“And by hang out, you mean Netflix and chill or whatever you kids are saying these days?”

I roll my eyes at him. “Yes, Grandpa.”

“That doesn’t explain you risking your career because you’re worried about her.”

“I—” I clear my throat and glance away, then meet his eyes again “—may have caught feelings.”

He takes his turn to roll his eyes. “Prancer,” comes out on a sigh.

“I know, I know.”

“I’m not going to lecture you on shit that’s already done. What do you expect to happen from here though? What do you want to happen?”

“I was hoping you could help me figure that out.”

He barks a laugh. There is a strange bitter note in it, but my brain doesn’t have the bandwidth to dissect that now.

“Listen, I need to share something else with you. I don’t know if it’s related, but here’s the thing…” I tell him about Dana reaching out and my response and their visit tomorrow. “It’s not the family I was aiming for, but maybe there’s more than one way to have a family.”

“Of course there is. But if you want children of your own and she does not, that’s still an irreconcilable difference. There’s more than one way to have children, too. Have you thought about that?”

“No, actually. It was always straightforward, and frankly more of a concept than a concrete plan, and this has thrown me for a loop. Imaginary families don’t come with step-by-step instructions.”

He chuckles with me, but then says, “You need to figure out what you really want. And of those things, which is most important and which you can and can’t live without. But all that? It’s only half the process. You’d still need to then discuss whatever you want with her and make sure she’s on board.”

I am nodding throughout his speech.

He stares at me hard and adds, “But for God’s sake, do it more subtly than in the middle of a party hosted by her brother.”

I give him a lopsided grin. “Alright. Sorry, Cap.”

He heaves a deep sigh. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get home. Jessica didn’t come to the team party today because she’s planning some cocktail thing this evening with a few friends of hers.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to keep you.”

He shakes his head in dismissal and waves as he heads to his car.