Page 18 of Hockey Halloween

Josh

There’s a beautiful woman on my front lawn, and I don’t know why.

Granted, I haven’t had my morning coffee yet.

And my reading glasses are still on my nightstand.

And the headache that I’ve been fighting since last night is still winning.

But I distinctly remember talking to my brother a few days ago about the woman who’d be moving into the other half of the duplex where I live with my five-year-old daughter, Reese.

Jared, my brother and part-time business partner, specifically said the new tenant was Dr. Linda Carmichael, a professor at Bainbridge University.

I’m the Assistant Hockey Coach for the men’s team, and though I certainly don’t know every person on the employee directory, I know for sure that the woman in my yard is not Dr. Carmichael.

Dr. Carmichael is retiring at the end of this school year after teaching there for decades. She’s renting from us because she wants a place that’s accessible, on account of her bad hip.

This woman’s hips look pretty damn good.

So does the rest of her. Not that it matters. I’m a single dad. I have no time for dating, and absolutely no interest, even if I did have the time.

And who knows if this woman is single. Or who she actually is, for that matter.

Maybe she’s Dr. Carmichael’s niece or daughter?

Whoever she is, it looks like she could use a hand, so I abandon the coffee pot that is brewing in slow motion on my countertop and step outside.

And no, I’m not being neighborly because she’s beautiful.

I am impervious to her beauty because I’m not on the market.

I’m nowhere near the market. I can’t even see the market.

But I’m also not a dick, so I’m going to see if she needs any help.

I’m halfway down my porch steps when I hear her laugh ring out. I look up to see that she’s got her phone pressed to her ear, and a smile on her face.

“No, Dad, I’m good, I swear. I have a few more boxes to unload, but almost everything is inside now. See? I moved into my new apartment all by myself. It’s crazy. Almost like I'm a full-fledged adult at the age of twenty-five. Wild.”

Okay…so she’s not related to my new tenant, she is my new tenant. Except, she’s not. She can’t be.

I pull my phone from the pocket of my athletic shorts and tap on the most recent message from my brother.

Jared: Heads up. There’s a change in properties. Linda Carmichael is taking the rancher on Vine Avenue. It’s farther from campus, but it’s all on one floor, so it’s worth the extra ten minutes on her commute. Your new neighbor is Valerie Grim.

I sigh, frustrated with myself for not reading Jared’s text earlier.

He sent it last night when my head was pounding, so I ignored it.

I shouldn’t have done that, not that it really matters.

As long as Dr. Carmichael and Valerie Grim are both good tenants who pay their rent on time and don’t trash their respective houses, we’ll be good.

I look up to see Valerie hefting a box, her phone still plastered to her ear.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m almost done. And Kevin’s here. He’s been a huge help. He’s probably putting the bed together as we speak,” she says on a laugh. “You know Kevin, always pitching in.”

No, no, I don’t know Kevin. But I dislike him already , I think to myself.

And Jared didn’t say anything about a second tenant.

I’m about to open my mouth when she bends to lift a box that’s straining at the seams. She can’t quite get her arms around it, so she’s fragging it along the pavement, and likely shredding the bottom with every step.

“Hey, need a hand?” I ask with a wave. “I’m Josh, your next-door neighbor and landlord.”

She beams up at me, and I swear my heart skips a beat. Stupid heart. Don’t do that. Beat regularly, dammit.

“I’m Val, and yeah, thanks. You can just put that box on the patio.”

I nod, happy to ferret boxes from her SUV to the brick patio Jared and I installed last summer. Setting the last box down, I turn back to my new tenant. “If you need a hand hauling these in, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it covered,” she says, waving me off.

“Sounds good,” I say. And that should be the end of it.

I’ve introduced myself, and my work here is done.

I should head back to my own place because my coffee is probably ready by now.

And Reese will be waking up soon. But instead of following that simple, logical plan, I open my big mouth.

“Hey, when Kevin has a minute, I’d like to talk to him. ”

Valerie blinks. “You want to talk to Kevin?

“If he’s living here, yes. He’s not on the rental agreement, so it needs to be adjusted. And that will affect your monthly rate.” I can tell she’s surprised I know about Kevin, but Jared and I have been in this business for almost ten years now. Not much gets past me.

Val quirks a dark brow as she looks up at me. “He’s already on the agreement.”

“He signed the lease? Because I believe there’s only one tenant listed currently.” To be fair, I haven’t looked at the contract yet, but I’ve seen Jared’s text. He’d have told me if we were renting to more than one person.

“Kevin needs to sign?” Val asks, looking perplexed.

“Of course he does,” I answer.

She’s looking at me like I’m an idiot. But I’m not.

My brother and I have been doing this long enough to know the shit people try to get away with.

Valerie Grim isn’t the first renter who’s tried hiding a whole-ass roommate, and she won’t be the last. When she lets out a long sigh, I know I’ve got her. She can’t pull a fast one on me.

“Okay…Do you want to come in? It’s probably easier if we do this at the counter, I guess.”

No, I don’t want to go into her place and see fucking Kevin shirtless and building particle board furniture.

And yes, I’m jealous. And also shirtless.

I know my line of thinking is completely ridiculous and borderline batshit.

If my brother were here, he’d be giving me so much crap right now, but whatever.

I just need Kevin to put his hammer down for a damn second and sign the agreement so that we have two paying tenants from the start.

I run my hand through my hair. I keep it short, but knowing my luck, I’m probably sporting a bad case of bedhead right now.

“Listen, my daughter will be awake soon, and I need to grab my iPad and pull up the agreement, anyway, so I should head back to my place. When Kevin is done, let me know. My number is on a business card on the fridge. Just send me a text.”

“When he’s done?” she asks, and no matter how gorgeous she is, I’m more than a little over her clueless act.

“I overheard you telling someone he was assembling furniture,” I explain.

Valerie’s face lights up as she laughs. “He’s definitely not assembling anything. I was joking. I guarantee Kevin is taking a nap right now.”

Is she fucking kidding? Why the hell do women put up with this shit? She’s got this sweet smile on her full lips, like she’s picturing him conked out on the damn hardwood floor and thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

I should keep my mouth shut because their relationship is none of my business, but I just can’t. “Let me get this straight. You’re out here hauling shit you can barely manage to carry, and Kevin is inside napping?”

She giggles. Freaking giggles. “Well, yeah, but?—”

“But your boyfriend’s a lazy piece of shit,” I say. I didn’t wake up with a surplus of patience this morning, but what little reserve I had is completely gone.

Val’s brows shoot up so high they nearly disappear into her forehead. “My boyfriend?!”

“Don't tell me he’s your fiancée?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck.

A scowl crosses her face and it’s directed right at me. “Most definitely not, although my relationship status is none of your business.”

I know she’s right, and I need to calm the fuck down. If my players were here, they’d be telling me I’ve lost my damn mind. It’s time for me to regain control of the situation, so I clear my throat. “Will Kevin be living here with you?”

“Yes,” she answers, her chocolate-brown eyes still pinned on mine.

“Then he and I need to have a quick chat so he can sign the papers. It doesn’t have to be right this second, but?—”

“Of course,” she says, cutting me off. “How silly of me to think that you wouldn’t need Kevin’s signature. I’ll go get him.”

As she turns to walk inside her new place, my pettiness gets the better of me. “Are you sure you don’t mind rousing him from his nap?”

Her smile is sweet when she turns back to me. “Not at all. He’s a champion napper. When you two are done with your man-to-man talk, he’ll go right back to sleep. He might even snooze right here on the grass.”

Val Grim stalks inside and I do my damnedest not to watch the way her hips sway back and forth with every step.

I’m being a dick and I know it, but she can’t sneak in a roommate, for fuck’s sake.

Still, I could be calmer, friendlier. I’m never going to be described as chill, but I’m usually not this intense in my day-to-day life.

I save it for the ice. It’s still technically summer break, at least for the next forty-eight hours, but that doesn’t make my job as assistant coach any easier, especially not this year.

We've got two transfer students joining the team and moving into the hockey house tomorrow, and there’s no way that’s not going to be a shit show.

Transfers aren’t usually a big deal, but when they’re the star players from your school’s bitter rival, that tends to make things a little more complicated.

I hear the screen door open and close and look up to see Reese walking across the lawn with purpose.

Her hair is a mess of knots and tangles, and the tattered baby blanket she’s clutching definitely needs a wash, but none of that matters.

She’s the best part of my life, even when she’s throwing more sass my way than a five-year-old should.

And right now, with her hand on her hip, I know she’s about to give me hell for something.

A quick glance at the other side of the duplex tells me Reese isn’t the only one here planning to hand me my ass this morning.

The look on Valerie Grim’s face is sweet and serene—and that’s the first sign that I’m in trouble.

The second sign is what she’s holding in her hands.

“Is that a puppy?” Reese’s attitude has disappeared and been replaced by awe and excitement.

“Uhhh…” I stammer, because the fact is, I’m not sure what the hell that is. It could be a puppy. It could also be a knitting project gone horribly wrong. Or a stuffed animal that was fluffed a little too long in the dryer.

When the pile of fur yips, I know it’s a dog.

A damn dog.

Dressed up in a little gray hoodie, for shit’s sake.

Without missing a beat or even looking in my direction, Val kneels down in front of Reese and places her little track-suit-wearing dog on the ground.

“This is Kevin,” she says, keeping her hand on his back.

“He’s tiny, but he’s not a puppy. He’s a full-grown Brussels Griffon.

A man, some might say,” she quips, looking up at me but still holding on to her dog. To Kevin.

Dammit.

Reese is utterly charmed. “Daddy! She has a dog. And he’s wearing a sweatshirt! ”

Val traces her finger across the lettering on the back of her dog’s hoodie. “BU, that’s for Bainbridge University,” she tells Reese.

My daughter’s eyes get impossibly wider. “My daddy works at that place.”

Val stands up straight, scooping her pint-sized dog into her arms. Her eyes find mine as a wry smile tugs at her lips. “What a coincidence. So do I.”