Page 28 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brandon

I figured Wolseley had told Jeremy and Ethan that we were now seeing each other because Ethan glared at me more than normal. Jeremy, who didn’t have the maturity of a five-year-old, did some gentle prodding all through our five-game road trip that had us out East for almost ten days. By the time we flew home—a five-hour flight—he’d finally gotten the courage to ask real questions.

He didn’t normally sit with me on the plane, but with McNeil playing poker with the guys, the seat next to me was vacant. I set down my book and wondered what he wanted. He’d been asking how Wolseley was, if I was enjoying the meal prep, innocuous stuff like that, probably hoping I’d volunteer more, but clearly he didn’t know me very well. I didn’t gossip. Had he ever seen me respond to anything remotely salacious in our team group chat? Never. In fact, I never responded to anything at all unless a question was directed at me. I stayed in my lane and out of everyone’s personal business.

“So, Wolseley... ”

I thought of putting him out of his misery, but I was sort of enjoying watching him try to be nosy.

“What about her?”

“Jill says you’re dating or whatever.”

“We’re getting to know each other.”

“She’s a nice girl.”

What in my reputation made him think I was going to be an asshole to her? All right, maybe I had a reputation for being a hard-ass, but I had always treated women with respect, not that any of the guys would know that. When I was dating someone, I usually only brought her to social gatherings when it was a little more serious, which was almost never.

“I know that.”

“I know you’ve mellowed with age, and that’s good, but I get that she’s the sensitive type.”

I shifted to face him better. “Are you worried I’m going to tell her she needs to cook with more passion? That she needs to live and breathe food? That if she wants to be a successful chef, she needs to be serious every minute of the day?”

His blue eyes were trained on me, and I knew he couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not.

“I’m kidding.”

Jeremy let out a relieved breath. “I wasn’t sure there.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Don’t worry about her. I will treat her with nothing but respect. We just started dating, so I have no idea where this is going, but you can assure Jill that I’m going to treat her like a princess. Good enough?”

“How do you know that Jill put me up to this?”

“Because you don’t know Wolseley that well, and I sure as hell know you don’t care how things are going between us.”

“Fair enough. I do appreciate the answers. I’m expected to report back.”

If Tangi had asked Ethan to gather intel, he certainly didn’t make an effort, which in the grand scheme of things, really didn’t matter. We were all set to have our Thanksgiving dinner the next day, so Wolseley’s friends could see it all live. I couldn’t wait to tell Wolseley all about the grilling when I got home, but she wasn’t there. Instead, she’d left me a note to say she’d see me later and that she had to pick up groceries for her dinner party. Lunch was in the fridge.

I ate and took a nap because I rarely slept on planes. When I got up a few hours later, I could hear the distant sound of kitchen noises. Chopping of some kind. Low murmurs. Delia must have been with her. My stomach grumbled, and I checked my watch. I’d missed lunch. I heaved myself out of bed and found Wolseley and Delia in the kitchen. Today, Wolseley was explaining how to make the perfect loaf of bread.

“It’s all about the sweet spot,” she said. She detailed the perfect balance to make the yeast sing or something like that. She then moved on to sourdough and how that process went, although neither seemed overly interested in tackling that. I made a quick protein shake, and that was when Wolseley left Delia to knead the dough and threw together my power bowl. It looked packed with brown rice, avocado, yams, and a whole slew of vegetables. She topped it with my favorite teriyaki tofu.

She returned her attention to Delia and decided that the dough now needed to proof. They placed it in the warm oven and moved on to cranberry sauce. Only then did I realize they were prepping for tomorrow.

“Have you ever made pumpkin pie?” she asked Delia.

“No, but I’ve eaten a lot of them.”

“Well, we are going to cheat and use regular pumpkin in a can, not the pie filling, just regular pumpkin because good luck finding a pumpkin that will be good enough. But we are making the crust and some enhancements to the pumpkin puree.”

“Can I help?” I asked .

Delia and Wolseley looked at me as if I’d asked them if I could piss in the pie. They then looked at each other, and Wolseley gave a nod.

“Yes, but you can’t slow us down. I only have Delia for another hour.”

I’d been on my own a long time, so I’d picked up a few skills in the kitchen. Nothing that would make me chef quality, but I could mix, chop, sear, and sauté with the best of them. So Wolseley put me to work. She didn’t trust me enough with any Thanksgiving prep, but I was chopping mushrooms, carrots, and broccoli for some kind of vegetable side dish she had planned for me and Ryan. She moved me on to the dreaded onions and garlic next. Delia left for her afternoon deliveries and would be back to pick up Ryan’s meals.

“I thought she’d never leave,” I said overdramatically. “Can we screw around now?”

Wolseley looked faux-offended. “I’m working. What kind of person slacks off on the job?”

I moved in closer to her, pushing some of the longer platinum blonde bangs from her face. “What if I talk to your boss? Tell him you deserve a break?”

“I don’t know. He’s pretty mean. He makes me work long hours on my feet all day.”

“He’s such an asshole. Tell you what, if he gives you any trouble, he’ll have to answer to me.”

She looked around the kitchen. “All right, but maybe I should?—”

I swept her up into my arms, and she shrieked. I brought her to my bedroom and kicked open the door. I had her out of her clothes in seconds and focused my attention on worshiping her perfect breasts. Her hands were furiously working on my jeans, and we were all tied up in each other. I had to fix this. Reluctantly, I left her breasts for just a moment to struggle out of my jeans and shirt. My boxers were last, and when I got back onto the bed with her, her hands found my semi-erect cock. She pushed me down on my back and straddled me, reaching for my nightstand and a condom. I played with her coveted breasts again, as she rubbed her wetness across my now-throbbing cock.

“When I was in India, I bought a copy of the Kama Sutra ,” she said. “I didn’t think to bring it to Vancouver, but I’m sure I can find a copy around here. Would you be interested in exploring the contents of that book with me?” she asked, lining her entrance to my cock.

“I think I can be persuaded,” I said, catching my breath as she took my cock in her hand and guided it inside her tight pussy. Wolseley was a glorious vise.

“I know a few from memory,” she said, her voice trailing off to a moan. “But I think we’ll start with this one.”

She tortured me as she slowly took all of me in. I had no idea how long I’d be able to keep this up. I think she liked the control, and I loved giving it up to her. I just didn’t want to come too soon.

She picked up the pace a little, but after a few minutes, it was too much for me. I sat up, and she giggled as I kissed her, then had her on her back. I pushed her knees up to her chest and fucked her like it would be the last time.

“Don’t stop,” she said.

I kept going for as long as I could, and when I came, I let out a grunt that was matched with Wolseley’s shriek. Fuck, we were good in bed together. We were good everywhere together.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Wolseley to stay the night. She said she had so much to do the next day, and something about a turkey stressing her out. So I slept alone, told her I could manage my own breakfast and lunch—she still sent Delia over with food—and then went to practice, another strength-training day. We didn’t have another game until Saturday night, so Coach Anthony was kind enough to have an optional skate Friday. He made a joke that we could all spend the day Black Friday shopping.

I got home and tried to nap, but Thanksgiving had me thinking about Christmas, and that meant I had to tell Wolseley about my parents, and my parents about Wolseley. I hated the idea of both things.

In Wolseley’s case, I didn’t want her worrying about my parents or trying to impress them because nothing short of me marrying the heir to some throne would impress them. In my parents’ case, giving them any information about Wolseley would have them googling her and digging up as much dirt as possible as if they were some detective team. So far, my plan was to tell both sides just before my parents came to town and then let the chips fall where they may. It wasn’t a solid plan.

I managed to nod off, and when I got up, I was looking forward to dinner. The thought of hanging out with people, even Ethan, was a luxury I rarely had. For so long, I’d kept my life insular; that way I didn’t have to let people in, I couldn’t disappoint them, and I didn’t have to rely on them. But I did crave friendships, more than the few I had. I wanted to hang out, have beers, talk sports, be normal, but that meant opening myself up, and right now, the only person I was letting in was Wolseley, and I was still keeping shit from her.

At least with the guys, I had a taste of camaraderie, but what happened when my career was over? If I hadn’t settled down and had a family? Would I end up alone in a shack in the woods? Living like a loner? I’d be the old person yelling at people for driving too fast, if I didn’t start making some changes .

I got to Wolseley’s—or Ethan and Tangi’s condo—a few minutes early. I figured she’d need the help, and when I saw her, I nearly choked. She was in a long, fitted skirt and a black turtleneck sweater. Her hair was in soft, voluminous curls, just like Marilyn Monroe. I was fucking speechless.

“Hey,” she said with a devious smile.

“Are you trying to turn on all the guys tonight?”

“Just one,” she said and winked.

“You succeeded!”

She tasked me with taking the monster turkey out of the oven because it had taken the two of them to get it in, and Wolseley was convinced she was scarred for life from the experience. She really did hate handling meat. Delia covered the bird with tin foil while it rested. She then popped some brown blob into the oven that Delia told me was fake turkey. I didn’t ask for the details. I was too busy salivating over Wolseley and having many indecent thoughts.

My next job was to greet people as they arrived, take their coats, offer them drinks, and so on. I was hardly the best person for the job, but Wolseley and Delia were busy. Jill and Jeremy arrived first, and I did my job, but neither wanted refreshments. Ryan came next and asked for a beer, so I finally had something to do. Ethan and Tangi came last with their daughter, and I was sure he scowled at me. The guy had to get over himself.

Apparently, Tangi was visibly pregnant, but I couldn’t tell with her oversized sweater. None of my business, anyway. Neither wanted anything, so I assumed my job was over, but next thing I knew, Wolseley had me putting out appetizers.

“Wolseley already has you domesticated,” Ryan said.

“She’s trying.”

“She’s looking smoking hot tonight. What’s that all about?”

“She really likes dressing up for the holidays. ”

What else could I say? That she’d dressed up for me? Ryan would never stop ribbing me about it.

She finally greeted her guests, looking a little frazzled. She wished everyone a happy Thanksgiving, which was weird since it was six weeks ago.

“Now that that is out of the way, who is going to carve the turkey, because it isn’t going to be me,” she said.

We all looked at each other. Had any of us carved a bird before? Finally, Ryan jumped up and said he’d do it. He’d done it a few times before, so that was good enough for everyone. I helped Wolseley bring out the endless dishes of food. She’d gone all out tonight. Turkey, fake turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, vegan gravy, candied yams, some kind of broccoli, two different salads, cranberry sauce, her homemade bread with your choice of butter—vegan and regular—and a green bean casserole.

“You are going to need to roll us out of here tonight,” Tangi said.

“Everyone is leaving with a doggie bag.”

I waited to see if she would explain the history of doggie bags, but she didn’t.

I tried everything, even the fake turkey, which wasn’t that bad. I probably ate more candied yams than I should have, but I’d never had them before. I had way too much of her homemade bread. Thankfully, we had the next day off because all this food was going to make me a zombie, but it was worth it. When I caught Wolseley’s attention across the table, I gave her a wink, and she smiled back shyly. She was truly adorable.

After we’d all stuffed ourselves, the decision was made that Wolseley and Delia got to relax while the rest of us cleaned up. Tangi and Jill put together their own doggie bags while Ryan filled the containers Wolseley had given him to the brim. Jeremy and Ethan brought in dishes while I loaded the dishwasher. I put aside anything that needed to be handwashed.

Since I’d had my fill of entertaining for a few minutes, I got started washing the leftover dishes while everyone mingled in the living room and on the balcony. It was an unseasonably warm day in Vancouver, so everyone wanted to enjoy it. I was perfectly happy washing dishes when Tangi appeared, holding a hand towel.

“Mind if I help you dry?”

“Not at all,” I said as pleasantly as possible. I knew why she was doing it. She wanted information.

“Great dinner tonight,” she said.

“Wolseley made the best meal I’ve ever had.”

“Lucky you that she gets to make you food all the time.”

I handed her a salad bowl to dry. “I am pretty lucky.”

I washed, and she dried silently for a minute before she proceeded on.

“She looks great tonight. I’ve never seen her all dolled up like that in ages.”

“She was excited about today.”

Tangi cleared her throat, and I waited for the onslaught.

“She’s been my best friend for a long time. I want to see her happy. This isn’t some kind of game of yours, is it?”

I placed the platter I’d just washed into the dish rack and turned to face her. “Are you serious right now?” I hadn’t intended the hard edge in my voice to be so obvious, but she deserved it.

“She’s sweet, and she lets her heart rule her head. I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”

Fucking rich, coming from her.

“You’re right. She is sweet. Probably the sweetest, most genuine woman I’ve ever met. And I don’t deserve her. In fact, she’s way too good for me, and you don’t know how lucky I am to have her in my life.”

Tangi’s hazel eyes widened for a moment, but then she took a deep breath and exhaled. “She told you what I said.”

“I had to ask a few times. I noticed she was upset, but she wouldn’t tell me why. Mentioned that something happened between the two of you. Then I asked again, and she eventually told me. She tried to make you come out looking good, but I saw through it.”

Tangi flinched at the insult.

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“So she said.”

“My concern is that you’re with her to be near me.”

I laughed because it was my first reaction. “Do you think my life revolves around you? I’m not going to argue with you, but I will say this: Wolseley would never stab you in the back the way you’ve stabbed her. Moreover, I see you in a new light, and it’s not pretty. I can also finish the dishes by myself. I don’t need your help.”

You’d think I’d slapped her by the look on her face, but she deserved it. I couldn’t believe the Tangi I knew from two years ago could be such a jerk. To her credit, she put down the dishcloth and slowly slinked away, back to her friends. I didn’t expect her to tell anyone about our conversation, otherwise Ethan would have already tried to take a swing at me. And if she told Wolseley, I would own what I said because Tangi was a piece of work.