Page 12 of Slap Shot (Blades Hockey #5)

Daisy

Iˇm thigh-deep in a wedding dress when Sally, one of the shopˇs bridal consultants, leans forward to give me a hand. As in, she puts one hand on my butt, the other on the fabric, and like a pig in a blanket, Iˇm shoved directly inside two-thousand-dollar casing.

I barely manage to stifle a grunt of discomfort as she steps back to admire her handiwork.

¨Weˇre lucky that we had this one in your size from a return.〃 Hands poised on her hips, Sally circles me like a shark scenting blood in the water. ¨Though youˇll need enough time before the wedding to have the hem lifted. Itˇs too long on you.〃

Thatˇs an understatement.

Though the bodice fits almost perfectly, my legs are swimming in fabric. Iˇm pretty sure that if I try to walk, Iˇll end up tangled in satin and face-down on the floor.

The good news is that West and I have decided to go to the courthouse next week as soon as heˇs back from his upcoming road trip. Assuming I walk away with a dress today, Iˇll have enough time to get it alteredwith a little extra cash to compensate for the fast turnaround, of course. I mean, thereˇs no reason why I canˇt just wear a pair of jeans and call it a day, but I canˇt bring myself to act like I donˇt care. I want to wear a dress. I want to pin back my hair under a pretty veil and pick out something blue to wear.

Call me a hopeless romantic, but Iˇd like to at least pretend that itˇs not only a matter of convenience thatˇs leading us down the aisle.

Sally hovers by my elbow. ¨What are you thinking?〃

That I should have taken the few extra minutes to slather on some lotion after my shower this morning. Everyone knows that a dry Slip-n-Slide is objectively a bad experience, and I can still feel the imprint of Sallyˇs diamond ring on my backside from all the pulling and tugging. As for the dress itself . . .

With two fistfuls of satin, I shuffle over so that Iˇm standing in front of the floor length mirror. Right. Well. Here goes nothing. As I lift my gaze, I find myself hoping for the best while preparing for the

I physically wince at my appearance.

¨Well?〃 Sally leans down to fluff the train. ¨Initial thoughts?〃

The color, the fabric, the cutall of it is horrendously wrong on my body.

Instead of reading the room, Sally gives a rather enthusiastic clap. ¨Iˇm sure your dad will love it!〃

Iˇm sure he will since heˇs the one who picked it out.

¨Cˇmon, letˇs show it off.〃 Before I can utter an effusive thanks but no thanks , Sally draws the velvet curtain back with a dramatic tug. ¨Voila! What do you think of your daughter in this dress, Mr. Hall?〃

Heˇs seated alone on a sofa that could easily fit ten happy family members, and just like that, I regret not asking Tory to take off work and come along. Sure, he busted out laughing when I told him about the plan to marry West, but he also stopped laughing entirely when he realized that I wasnˇt joking around. Thatˇs when he cursed under his breath, and threatened me with bodily harm: ¨Fake wedding or not, if you get hitched to my brother without me there, I will bury you both where you stand.〃

Friendships are weird.

Still, itˇs hard to see my dad sitting there by himself. In another life, maybe Mom would be here, too. Maybe sheˇd comb through the racks of sample dresses and instinctively know that satin is too heavy a fabric for my petite frame. Maybe she would save a smile for me when we found the right dress, exclaiming, ¨Thatˇs the one!〃 like in all those reality shows where the bride is surrounded by piles of discarded gowns only to end up walking away with the first one that she tried on.

Maybes are hard.

Especially when reality is particularly cruel.

Dad gives the dress a quick onceover, his expression growing tense under a fresh wave of panic at being put on the spot, and I almost feel vindicated when he hedges, ¨I donˇt know. You look like . . .〃

¨Like I should be running around with Casper the Friendly Ghost? Agreed. Iˇm practically translucent in this thing.〃

He grimaces. ¨You are rather . . . pale.〃

That about sums it up, yes.

I turn to Sally. ¨Do you have anything with lace?〃

Two hours later, Dad and I step out into the brisk autumn day.

The door to the bridal shop has barely swung closed before heˇs reaching into his shirt pocket for a pair of sunglasses. With a steady line of cars idling in the street before us, all waiting for the stoplight to turn green, he has to raise his voice to be heard over the low hum of engines. ¨You should have let me pay for the dress. Or at least the alterations.〃

¨Itˇs not a real wedding.〃

¨But it is a real dress, and you just lost your job.〃

¨I quit my job,〃 I correct for no other reason than it feels necessary to mark the difference. Arthur wouldnˇt have fired me yet. He would have suffocated me like a snake does with its prey, cutting off all hope of oxygen, until he finally showed me mercy and sent me packing with all of my belongings. ¨And I have savings.〃 I slip on my own sunglasses against the bright midday sun. ¨Donˇt worry, all is not lost.〃

He jerks his chin toward me in question. ¨ Mighty Ducks ?〃

¨Edgar Allen Poe, Dad.〃

¨Donˇt know him.〃

The fact that he can make me laugh when thereˇs enough awkwardness between us to fill its own zip code says everythingSam Hall is still one of my favorite people even if we havenˇt really talked in days, not since the meeting with the team. A text here, a quick call there, all of it so incredibly impersonal that I canˇt keep the hope out of my voice when I ask, ¨Do you have time for some coffee?〃 I point to the bakery across the street. ¨Iˇll even let you pay.〃

Dadˇs mouth pinches under his mustache. ¨Canˇt, kid. Iˇm sorry.〃

¨Oh.〃 Smile slipping, I force myself to swallow my disappointment. ¨Yeah, sure. No problem. I know that youˇre busy.〃

¨Itˇs not that I donˇt want to, Dais.〃 Lifting one arm, he passes his palm over the back of his neck, his pale skin already turning pink under the surprisingly warm sun. ¨Weˇve got the upcoming roadie with Colorado up first, and you know that Colorado is a pain in the〃

¨I know, Dad. I get it.〃

¨I know you do, kid.〃 He backs up a step, using his hand to shield his face even though heˇs still wearing sunglasses. ¨Hey, keep an eye out for a call from Gwen, would you? She said that sheˇd reach out to talk to you and West about doing some sort of Tell All. Obviously, not a complete Tell All. Think about it. Also, let me know if you want to come to any of the games while weˇre awaymight look good for you to be seen at one. Show West some support before news breaks about the wedding, and all that. Just trying to think outside the box.〃

Is it really a marriage of convenience if your dad is pushing for it? Because Iˇm starting to feel like Iˇm stuck inside the pages of an arranged marriage romance instead.

I lift a hand in a wave. ¨Iˇll keep an eye out for Gwen, and Iˇll think about the game.〃

¨Good, good. Okay, I gotta take off.〃 After waiting for a break in traffic, he hoofs it across the street to where he parked his car, offering me a harried wave over his shoulder before yanking open the driverˇs side door and disappearing inside the vehicle.

Like a loser, I stand there waving until heˇs gone.

It doesnˇt occur to me until Iˇm on my way home that he never asked if Iˇm doing okay.