Page 97 of The Puck Bunny

“What thing?” Grandma Zanetti asks.

“A work thing,” Mom answers. “It’s short hand for crap we wouldn’t understand.”

Grandma nods. “Aah. Sara is a smart girl. They’re lucky to have her. She understands all that crap.”

In the morning, as I pretend to get ready for work, I make a pot of coffee and Bobby appears.

“That coffee smells so good.”

“Good morning, future NHL player.”

He grins, gives me a one-armed squeeze and pours the first cup. Then he hands it to me.

I’m surprised as I take it, then he pours a second one for himself.

“You ready to handle the work crap today?” he asks.

“Billie Mae said something, didn’t she?” The taut wire of my nerves loosens a fraction. No need to pretend with Bobby anymore—one less thing to worry about.

He shrugs. “I don’t know why it’s a big secret.”

“Because I don’t want Mom and Dad to know. Plus, if work knew, there’d be hell to pay. There was a video of me with the puck bunnies that went viral and we had to handle with it. They didn’t know it was me, thank God.”

“Wait—what the hell are you talking about? Because I don’t give a crap about some puck bunnies. Billie Mae told me you were going to dinner with Quinn James and his family—”

Crap. “You don’t believe that, do you? I told her I wasn’t going. I’m texting him this morning to let him know.”

“What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.” Is it a lie? I’m too confused to tell, frankly. He stood up for me and seemed okay with telling Delaney I was invited to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner, but wasn’t that all because he was put in a difficult situation?

“Oh there’s something going on between you two. It’s just a matter of what it is. And I’m very curious to know because if he’s taking advantage of you, I’ll need to—”

“It’s nothing like that. I mean, what makes you think he’s taking advantage of me? Maybe I’m taking advantage of him.” Stupid thing to say.

“He is, isn’t he? The fucker is a player, Sara and you’re… not.” His words are tight and all the cheer has gone from his voice.

“I’m—”

“You’re as innocent as they come. I know you.” He gives me that look that brings me all the way back to our childhood and those shared secret discussions about what happened to Dad and if we were ever going to see him again. My chest squeezes because I love my brother.

“Maybe you don’t know everything,” I say and it’s unquestionably a legit act of bravery to say this. “Either way, you’re going to have to trust me. Trust that I can handle him because I’m a grown woman. Don’t you dare think of interfering—as much as I know you mean well—or…” I don’t know what. My indignation subsides because I feel the caring behind his words.

Bobby studies me for a few beats then softens up, huffing out a breath. “Okay. For now, I’ll trust you. But first time I hear he’s made you cry, all bets are off. I’m in his face and I bet you anything I’m tougher than his fancy old ass.”

I don’t say what’s on the tip of my tongue—that ship has sailed and sunk. Instead, I swat him, half playfully because I appreciate his protective streak, but the other half of me doesn’t like him casting Quinn as a bad guy when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He doesn’t know that Quinn is also trying to protect me—from myself.

CHAPTER 30

QUINN

“Great game, men,” Coach says as we file into the locker room. “Rafe volunteered to do media duty, so all you reprobates can get home to your Thanksgiving dinners. Report back on Saturday. Don’t over-indulge because we have a game Sunday.”

He leaves to a disjointed chorus of “Happy Thanksgivings!” shouted from all over the room.

“I can’t wait for the pie,” Finn says, bumping me on my pads with his stick as he lumbers by. It’s become a tradition. His cubby is two down from mine.

“What kind of pie?” I ask as I undress, in no particular hurry when everyone else seems to be moving in fast motion to get home.