Page 71 of Next Season

Riley had rolled his beautiful eyes and said I was a hopeless romantic. His pink cheeks told me he didn’t mind so much, though. Good, because in my mind, the little details mattered and this place was beautiful now.

The rustic wood tables, contemporary lighting, and white-paneled walls screamed simple yet elegant. It looked the part of a bougie bistro, but I was no novice. I’d hired an experienced staff and created a sophisticated menu that would appeal to anyone interested in modern farm-to-table dining. That was the plan, anyway.

After a year and a half of dealing with permits, a major remodel, and assembling a reliable team, C’est Bon was finally set to open within a week. Sure, we could have opened sooner, but we’d been a bit busy.

I’d accepted Nolan’s offer of forty percent of the diner, and had gone fifty-fifty with him on C’est Bon. Riley had invested in my fifty percent, and Vinnie had invested in some, if not all of Nolan’s half too. Our hockey players knew nothing about food, so our operation was expected to run the same as the diner.

The real difference would be the menu. C’est Bon was slated to be French fusion while the diner was classic American with the occasional French twist.

“What do you think?” I asked, looping my arm over Riley’s shoulders as I tilted my chin toward the awning.

“Love it. It’s sharp and classy. I think this is gonna be a swanky joint.” He slipped his sunglasses down his nose and waggled his brows.

“Swanky,” I repeated. “I like that word. What time is your family arriving tomorrow?”

“Not till late afternoon. My sister and Martin rented a van, and Tara thinks they have enough room to schlep our folks, the kids, and everyone’s luggage, but I told them we can help if necessary. My schedule is very open,” he grinned.

“Not for long, love.”

I kissed his cheek and impulsively kissed the corner of his mouth too. Why? Because he was mine and everyone knew it. And also, there was something rather empowering about a bold public display of affection with my newly retired hockey star boyfriend.

Yes, after seventeen years in the league, Riley Thoreau had hung up his skates in an emotional final game in Seattle last month. The already pumped-up crowd had cheered as the Slammers took the ice one by one, and when Riley’s name was announced, the noise level had skyrocketed to ear-splitting levels.

I’d sat in a box with Vinnie, Nolan, Nolan’s brother, Ronnie, and Riley’s family. His parents had flown in from Toronto, and his sister and her family had made the trip from Rochester too. This was a big deal. The celebration of a long and successful career of a veteran…who just happened to be one of the first out and proud professional hockey players.

Riley had glided to center ice and waved to the crowd. It was hard to see his expression, but I knew this man well. And for obvious reasons, this was an emotional moment. He’d fought like a true champion to return to the game after his near catastrophic concussion. But one could argue that the physical effort was nothing compared to his very public coming out. I’d never been more in awe of another human in my life.

He’d stood next to his coach at a press conference, answered a million questions about his head injury and the likelihood of being an asset to the Slammers organization with grace. Yes, his head was fine and yes, he hoped to make a positive contribution. He’d also said he had no immediate plans to retire. He’d thanked the press for their support with a touch of sarcasm before thanking management, the fans, Coach Marsden, and his friends in Elmwood, Vermont.

Then he’d stood and waved, signaling the end of the interview, and at the last second had announced, “By the way, I’m queer. Bisexual, to be precise. I’m not going to answer any questions about that, but I want it to be out there in the hopes that it helps any queer kids who’re wondering where they fit. I’m thirty-five and I’m a hockey player and this is what bi looks like. I’m lucky to have incredible friends and a great organization behind me. That’s all.” He’d glanced into the nearest camera and added, “Merci.”

Thatmerciwas for me, in case you didn’t catch that.

I’d sat in my hotel room in Seattle, gnawing my bottom lip through his speech with tears in my eyes. I’d felt so proud and so…amazed at his strength and bravery. And more in love with him than ever. I’d known I’d do anything in my power to make long distance work for us. So I did. I’d traveled to his games, cheering like a loon for a team that…if I can be honest, was just okay. Riley had been the main draw, and everyone knew it.

No doubt, that was why his contract was renewed for another year at the end of last season. Simply put, he sold tickets and the Slammers hadn’t wanted to let him go. Their other captain had needed some seasoning, and they’d needed the revenue.

You see, after coming out, Riley became a mini celebrity of sorts. Several national LGBTQ organizations asked him to sponsor events or be a spokesperson. He was ambassador to a homeless shelter charity and had started an LGBTQ youth sports program whose headquarters were located in Elmwood, of course.

When he wasn’t on the ice, he worked as an advocate, intent on giving back to the community and creating awareness. When he was home in Elmwood, he worked with Vinnie and Nolan at the rink.

And now that he was home for good, there was talk of him taking on coaching duties and investing time in the community. His newest crusade was to build a high school in Elmwood.

“Did you know that our juniors actually go to school in Pinecrest? Everyone has their own rink, but they share a high school. Can you believe that?” he’d huffed incredulously.

I knew that, but I also didn’t think anyone cared. Maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe the Four Forest area had needed a blast of new blood to bring a few worthy changes to the community. Pinecrest was about to get a fabulous new bistro, and Elmwood would have its own high school with an elite hockey program within two years. Mark my words.

But now, we had other things on the schedule. Our families were coming into town for the restaurant opening—Riley’s would be here tomorrow, and mine would arrive two days later. It would be my parents’ first visit ever to the States and Riley was more nervous than I was.

“Do you think our parents will get along?” he asked as if reading my mind. “My mom speaks a little French, so we’re good there. I figure I can use Google Translate.Comment allez vous? How are you?”

I winced. “That’s a little formal, but it’s okay. Don’t worry,mon cher. They will love you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I love you and…because you used to play hockey.” I mussed his hair playfully and kissed him. “Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”

“Want to stop at the diner? I heard the chef is off tonight, but someone there might know how to make a burger.”