Page 16 of One Good Puck (Denver Bashers #5)

Gavin

“ T hanks for coming tonight, Coach,” Del says when he shakes my hand.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

I glance around the swanky, two-story wine bar in north Denver that Del and Ingrid have rented out for their engagement party.

There are white decorations everywhere. All the dining tables have clusters of fluffy white flowers on them.

Even the long table of hors d’oeuvres has small vases of white flowers dotted between the serving platters.

At the entrance, there’s a big sign with “Congrats, Del and Ingrid” written in swoopy, cursive gold against a rose-gold background.

“Let me guess. You did the decorations,” I say to Del.

He rolls his eyes and fights a smile. “You guessed it.”

He looks over to the far side of the bar, where Ingrid is posing for photos with a group of her friends against the exposed brick wall. They’re all holding red heart-shaped balloons. She’s wearing a flowy white dress, and all her friends are wearing red dresses.

“This was all Ingrid,” Del says .

“I figured that.”

The second she’s done taking photos, she walks over to where Del and I are standing. She hands me a glass of red wine.

“So thrilled you made it, Coach Porter. Hope you like Chianti.”

“It’s my favorite.” I take a sip.

Del slides his arm around his fiancée and pulls her close. She gazes at him with a giddy smile. He’s not smiling, but I could spot that adoring look in his eyes a thousand miles away.

I crack a smile. That grumpy fucker is so in love.

“Congrats to you both. And well done to you, Ingrid. This party is beautiful.” I gesture to the space.

She beams. “Thanks. I can do more than post on social media. I can throw together a pretty fantastic gathering too,” she jokes. “Oh, but Abby hand-painted the sign. Doesn’t it look beautiful?”

I glance over at it.

“I can throw a fantastic party, minus any artwork,” Ingrid jokes.

“You can do anything you put your mind to, sweetheart.” Del kisses her cheek. Her fair skin flushes red, and all of a sudden, it feels like I’m intruding on an intimate moment between the happy couple.

I walk off to the hors d’oeuvres table. I’m biting into a stuffed mushroom when I see Abby walk in.

I stop chewing. Holy shit .

She’s wearing this strapless red dress that dips low in the front…low enough that I can see the swell of her boobs.

I clear my throat, then immediately start coughing.

I thump my chest. A second later, someone slaps a hand on my back .

“You okay?” Xander asks.

I nod, even though I’m still coughing. I wipe my mouth with a napkin. He hands me a glass of water.

I guzzle it and manage a strangled, “Thanks.”

“Down the wrong pipe?” he asks, before glancing across the bar. When he sees Abby, a knowing smirk appears on his smug face. “Oh, I see.”

“Watch it,” I order.

He holds up a hand, laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Sophie asks when she walks up to us.

“Oh, nothing. Just your dad is choking on his own tongue at the sight of Abby.”

She turns and looks at her. “Wow. She looks incredible in that dress.”

“I don’t know what Xander is talking about,” I mutter.

Sophie tilts her head at me. “Dad. Come on. It’s written all over your face.”

My cheeks heat at being called out by my daughter and future son-in-law.

“So these hors d’oeuvres are good.” I study a random tray of bruschetta.

Sophie laughs. When I look up, Abby and Emma are walking over to us.

Abby offers a small smile. “Hey.” Her voice is soft and shy; the look in her eyes is hesitant. Like she’s not quite sure if she should approach me. I instantly feel guilty.

It’s my fault she feels this way. It’s because of how I abruptly ended our conversation the other night. I didn’t mean to come off so cold and harsh, but I couldn’t help it. The second Abby spoke those words about McCoy, I was thrown back in time.

He probably ruined her life doing that .

In an instant, I was back on that bathroom floor, hugging Nicole while she sobbed, while she spoke those same words.

“He ruined my life publishing those photos of me.”

All those feelings came flooding back. The rage. The sadness. The agony. The helplessness at not being able to do a damn thing to protect the woman I love.

I know Abby didn’t mean to remind me of any of that.

But my memories took over, and I needed to be alone to process it all.

I didn’t want to unload on her. I didn’t want her to think I was a freak for having such a visceral, raw reaction about something that happened more than twenty-five years ago.

I need to explain why I acted the way I did. And I need to apologize to her. Not now though, when her daughter is here and Xander and Sophie are standing around us.

I smile at Abby. “Hi.” I look down at Emma, who’s beaming up at me. I hold my hand up for her to high-five.

“I didn’t know you’d be at the party too,” I say to Emma.

“She’s just here for a few minutes. Her grandparents are on the way to pick her up,” Abby says.

“We’re going to the movies tonight,” Emma says excitedly.

“That sounds fun,” I say.

“The sugar crash she’s going to have later tonight after eating all that movie theater candy won’t be so fun,” Abby says, then flashes a tired smile before looking at Xander, Sophie, and me.

“I always try to get her to eat something nutritious before going to the movies, but she gets too excited and refuses to eat much.”

“Sounds like me when I was a kid,” Xander says. “I survived on Sour Patch Kids for most of elementary school.”

Sophie and Abby laugh .

I look at the table of hors d’oeuvres and get an idea. I look at Emma. “Hey, how about we have some girl dinner before you go to the movies?”

Emma smiles. “Okay!”

I think back to the other night when Abby mentioned all the snack foods Emma liked eating.

I grab a plate and load up on some crackers, chunks of bread, cheese slices, and ham. I offer the plate to Emma. She grabs some of the ham and a cracker. I dig into the cheese.

We finish the plate of food together in a few minutes.

“Could I have more?” Emma asks.

“Sure.”

I give her a second helping of everything, and this time, throw in a few veggies. She asks if she can sit at a nearby table and watch her tablet while she eats.

Abby says sure, then turns to me. “You’re amazing. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’s nothing,” I say.

“No, seriously. You got her to eat real food before going to the movies. That’s never happened before.” Abby looks over at Emma, who’s happily chowing down on a carrot stick while watching a YouTube video.

“Aww, way to go, Dad,” Sophie says with a smile.

A second later, she and Xander get pulled into a nearby conversation with Blomdahl and his fiancée, Bella. Abby glances down at her phone.

“Emma’s grandparents are here. I’m going to take her down to their car,” she says.

“Want a glass of wine when you come back?”

“That would be perfect.”

“Red or white?”

“Red, please. ”

“You got it.”

“Bye, Gavin! Thanks for girl dinner,” Emma says.

I can’t help but laugh. “You’re welcome, kiddo. And thanks for letting me have some.”

“Can we have girl dinner together again tomorrow night?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”

I catch Abby smiling as she looks between the two of us. I wave bye to Emma, walk over to the bartender, and order a glass of Chianti for Abby. When she walks back in, I hand it to her. She takes a long sip and closes her eyes.

When she opens her eyes, she’s smiling at me. “That’s just what I needed. Thank you.”

I gesture to the sign. “Ingrid said you painted that. It looks amazing.”

She beams. “Thank you. It was fun to be able to do a little painting. It’s been so long since I’ve picked up a paintbrush. I made it in your guest house. Hope that was okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” I smile, happy that she’s been using the space for her artwork. “I’m just glad they didn’t ask me to paint their congratulations sign. My artistic abilities are scary bad.”

Abby chuckles. It feels good to make her laugh.

I hesitate for a second before clearing my throat.

“Listen, about the other night. I know I was pretty abrupt with how I ended our conversation. I’m sorry about that.

Talking about what McCoy did triggered something from my past, and I needed to be alone to process it.

But I shouldn’t have just walked out on you like that. I should have explained.”

Abby’s brow furrows, and a pained look flashes over her pretty face. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry. I get it.”

“You do?”

She nods and hesitates for a second. “Dakota told me what happened with your wife and her ex.”

Her expression twists like she’s going to be sick.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she says. “Just know that I understand completely. I’m so sorry for what your wife went through. And for what you went through too.”

Relief and comfort hit me all at once. I don’t have to explain it. I don’t have to justify my feelings or my reactions. She just gets it.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

She nods and lets out a breath, like she’s relieved.

“It’s probably weird how something that happened so long ago still upsets me,” I say.

She shakes her head. “I don’t think that at all. I think it’s normal. That was a traumatizing thing your wife went through. And I’m sure it was traumatizing for you to see her suffer through it.”

My throat tightens. “Yeah. It was awful.”

“Those feelings don’t just go away. They’re with you forever.”

I nod. “Yeah, exactly.” She really does get it.

“And just for the record, I’m sorry you got arrested for going after her ex. You should have gotten a medal for what you did.”

I blink at her, surprised at what she said.

“Every woman I know would have wanted their husband or boyfriend to react that way,” she says.

That warm feeling burrows deeper inside my chest hearing her say that.

“You really think that?” I ask.

She holds my gaze. “Yes.” She says it without missing a beat, without a single shred of doubt. Like she’s never been more sure.

“There’s just something about a man who would burn the world down for the woman he loves.”

Her words make my skin go hot. For a second, I’m confused as to why I feel this way. But then I realize that it’s hot to hear Abby say that—to hear her say that she’s drawn to me because of what I did.

I notice her cheeks flush pink as she looks at me.

My heart thuds in my chest despite the strange mix of feelings whirring through me. I’m feeling this intense attraction to Abby while we’re talking about a memory involving my late wife.

It’s been over a decade since I lost Nicole.

I still love her with my whole heart—I always will.

It took a handful of years before I was ready to even think about dating after I lost her.

When I finally did, nothing stuck. The few women I dated were kind and attractive, but nothing lasted long term.

Abby is the first person I’ve felt a connection with. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this kind of attraction, this kind of pull to be with another person.

I swallow hard as I stare at her. “Abby…”

“Everyone! It’s time for a toast!” Ingrid’s cheery voice pulls our attention toward the center of the wine bar, where she and Del are standing.

“We want to say thank you all so much for coming to our engagement party tonight,” Ingrid says.

“I know we’ve got a lot of these to attend in the coming months,” Del says while looking over at Xander, Sam, and Blomdahl, who are all also engaged. They all raise their glasses to him. Everyone chuckles.

“It means the world to share this special moment with you all,” Ingrid says. “We just want to take a moment and toast our families. We love you all so much.”

“And our friends,” Del says. “You’re the family we choose. We love you guys.”

Everyone follows them when they raise their glasses in a toast.

Abby looks at me, a shy smile playing on her lips. “To friends.”

“To friends,” I repeat.

We take a sip of our wine and get pulled into separate conversations. But the whole time, all I can think about is Abby.

I should know better than to think of her as anything more than my friend. But the more I get to know her, it’s getting harder to convince myself that’s enough for me to be just her friend.