Page 14 of One Good Puck (Denver Bashers #5)

Abby

“ S o what do you usually eat when you get home late after a game?” I ask.

He nods at the empty plate. I laugh.

“You need something more than that.”

He rests his hands on his hips and shrugs. “I’ll do a protein shake sometimes.”

I tilt my head at him. “Seriously?”

“I’m pretty simple. And boring.”

I shake my head, still smiling. “Okay, I’m going to whip up my famous girl dinner for you. It’s ten times better than a protein shake.”

He laughs. “Girl dinner?”

I grab ingredients from the fridge. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of girl dinner.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t. I guess that’s my age showing.”

When I turn around, he’s leaning against the counter and rolling his shirt sleeves up his forearms. My brain glitches for a split second. God . It’s so hot when he does that.

I tear my gaze away from his muscled, veiny forearms and set down the loaf of bread, cheese, and deli meat on the counter. I grab an apple and set it aside.

“What can I do to help?” he asks.

I smile at how sweet he is to ask.

“You can grab a frying pan and heat it on low, if you don’t mind.”

He does that while I cut the apple into thin slices.

“So, girl dinner is pretty much just having your favorite snacks for dinner,” I say.

“Ah, okay. Then I’m pretty sure I’ve had girl dinner a bunch of times.”

I laugh and butter a slice of sandwich bread, then place it onto the pan. I layer a slice of cheese, then the apple slices, then another slice of cheese, then another slice of bread.

I look up at him. “You’re having a fancy grilled cheese tonight.”

When he grins, crow’s feet flank the corners of his eyes. It makes him look so distinguished. And insanely handsome.

I clear my throat and try not to think about how attractive he is.

“I cook this so I avoid ordering takeout so much,” I say.

“I’m guilty of that too,” he says. “What are your go-tos?”

“Pineapple fried rice, enchiladas, and sesame chicken,” I say. “If I’m feeling healthy, I’ll order a burrito bowl.”

“That’s an impressive takeout order.”

I smile and slice up some cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, and salami, and set them on a plate. I grab a string cheese snack and slice it up. “Sorry, I don’t have any fancy cheeses, so this will have to do.”

Gavin chuckles. “No, I love it. ”

I pour a handful of nuts in the middle of the plate, then flip the grilled cheese when the first side is golden brown.

I point to the plate of snacks. “This is the only way I can get Emma to eat dinner some nights,” I say. “I used to make her hearty, healthy meals with protein and veggies, and she wouldn’t want them. But if I cut everything up into snack sizes, she’d eat it.”

“Sophie liked snacks more than meals too when she was little. And she used to refuse to eat anything unless her mom and I served it to her on her favorite Disney princess plate.”

Gavin’s expression turns warm when he talks about his daughter. I smile at how sweet that is.

“Emma went through that phase when she was a toddler. I had to buy five of the same Moana plates because she refused to eat anything unless it was on that plate.”

Gavin nods. “Sophie’s mom did the same thing when she was a toddler. I thought she was a genius for thinking of that.”

I take in the sparkle in his eye when he talks about his wife. Dakota told me that Sophie’s mom died in a car accident when Sophie was in middle school. She and her dad were both devastated when they lost her.

My chest squeezes with sadness. What an awful way to lose the person you love.

A tiny pang of guilt cuts through the sadness. I suddenly feel like a jerk for lusting after a heartbroken widower.

Then maybe you should stop ogling him and focus on just being his friend.

I flip off the burner when the grilled cheese is finished cooking, then cut it diagonally into fourths. I set the slices on the plate and slide them over to him .

“Voila. Girl dinner is served.”

A low chuckle falls from his mouth as he grins down at the plate. His gaze lifts to me. “This looks amazing. Thank you.”

When he bites into a sandwich slice, he moans. “Damn, that’s good. I’ve never had grilled cheese with apple before.”

“It’s my favorite. And my go-to dinner when I’m feeling too lazy to cook.”

“This wasn’t lazy at all. This is honestly pretty fancy for a guy like me.”

He offers me a slice of the sandwich, but I shake my head. “That’s all for you. I’m going to steal some salami, though.”

“Please do. This is a lot of food, I don’t think I can eat it all myself.”

We stand at the kitchen island, leaning against the counter as we eat.

“So I watched the Bashers game tonight,” I say. “Congrats on the win.”

Gavin’s brow lifts. “You watched it?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just remember you mentioning when we first met that you didn’t pay attention to hockey.”

“I don’t really. But Emma asked what you were doing tonight, and I mentioned that you had to coach the hockey game, and she asked if we could watch it.”

He grins wide. “She did?”

I nod, heartened at how happy he looks.

“She’s such a sweet kid,” he says.

“She really is. She fell asleep after the first period though. Sorry.”

He lets out that low, rough chuckle once more. I shiver .

“It’s preseason. She didn’t miss anything important,” he jokes.

“You did really well, though.”

“Thanks. I’m happy with how hard the guys played.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But I meant that you did well too.”

His eyebrow lifts. “Really?”

I nod. “I don’t know anything about hockey or coaching, but I was impressed at how focused you are. You look confident and calm. You didn’t freak out or lose your cool. You didn’t seem nervous at all.”

A light pink flush colors his stubbled cheeks. A shy smile pulls at his lips. “You really think that?”

“Yeah.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a sexy half-smile. “I’m used to hearing that I look like an emotionless robot when I coach. It’s nice to hear you don’t feel the same way.”

I lean back, surprised. “That’s not at all what you look like. You look unflappable and cool as a cucumber.”

He smiles like he’s amused. “Can you say nice things to me after every game? It’s a real boost to my ego.”

I chuckle. “I guess I would have thought that winning was enough.”

“It is.” His expression sobers after a second. He glances down at the plate and eats some salami and tomatoes. “It’s just the stuff that happens after the game that can be a downer sometimes.”

It takes a second for me to understand what he means. He’s talking about post-game press and how that reporter questioned him about McCoy.

“I hope it’s okay for me to say this, but I think it was really out of line, how that reporter gave you a hard time about getting rid of McCoy,” I say.

He looks up at me, his brow lifted in surprise .

“I heard about that awful thing he did. To share private photos of his ex on a revenge porn site is unforgivable. He probably ruined her life doing that. He deserves to be in jail,” I shake my head, feeling sickened by what he did.

“You were right to kick him off the team. And I’m sorry that you’re getting pushback from reporters about it. ”

Gavin is quiet as he looks at me. He blinks, then clears his throat. “I should head to bed.”

I stand there, taken aback at how abruptly he ended our conversation. “Oh. Of course.”

He gives me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks again for dinner, Abby.”

“Sure thing.”

He walks off and heads upstairs while I stand there and wonder what I said to make Gavin run away from me.