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Face Off With Fate

Page 65

by Marie Maravilla

I shook my head. “You’re supposed to be watching the new players. Helping me decide who’ll be a good fit, not popping a boner over your girlfriend,” I scolded, forcing my eyes back on the players, too.

My brain was still recounting what happened in my kitchen a couple nights before.

Thatcher shot me a goofy grin. It was all the confirmation I needed to know that his eyes would be on her ass for the rest of the day.

Fucker.

Truth was, I was happy he’d found someone like Ariella. The way she cared about him was exactly what a guy like Thatcher deserved after so many years of dealing with a shit girlfriend and a shittier dad. His mom was great, but daddy issues can really root in deep and fuck you up.

“Hear from our moms lately?”

“Pretty sure this European vacation has ’em believing they’re twenty-one still,” Thatcher said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I grunted in agreement. “Yesterday, she called me from the back of some guy’s moped. He was showin’ her ’round ‘the real Italy.’” That line of bullshit sounded exactly like something a guy would tell a woman he was trying to get into the pants of—or wallet.

Thatcher’s mouth rose in a lopsided grin. “Go Cinds! Cuttin’ it up.”

“Your momma was on the back of one, too.”

His head snapped to me, face in full-on panic mode. “She told me she had a quiet day.”

“Quiet day on the back of some guy’s moped.” I chuckled, fully enjoying the crash-out Thatcher was having. Glad to not be the only one freaking out about my single mom living it up in another country.

“I can’t believe she left that part out.”

I nodded. Neither of us would say a damn thing about it. Didn’t matter that I was a grown man with a kid of my own. The second Cindy thought I was telling her what to do, she’d put my ass in place.

My mom deserved the time away to let loose. The woman was a saint.

First things I did when I was hired on as Dallas’ head coach were get the safest-rated vehicle and car seat, and hire my mom full-time as Goldie’s nanny. There was no one more capable than her. She’d raised me all on her own, and there wasn’t a negative memory I had of my childhood.

Retired my mom from her career in healthcare, and made sure Goldie had one of the most important female figures in my life in hers, too.

Two birds, one stone.

Hockey season was long as hell with a lot of travel, so I tried my damnedest to give her the summers off, or at least the first few months. Offseason was still busy for me, but at least most of my work was at our home rink. When I signed with San Jose, it was with the stipulation that they’d work with me when it came to Golds during the time my mom was away.

“Heard the weekend was exciting for you.” Thatcher’s elbow hit my rib. “How’d the City Cup dinner go? You know, Ariella and I also started out as a fake thing.”

The clanking of weights and grunts drowned out my snort. “Load of bullshit. There was never anything fake between you two. That chemistry was real from the moment you set eyes on her.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Is it anything like that for you and Itzel?” He swiveled to look at me. “Y’all have been on what, two dates now? How were they?”

“Uh, fine.” I racked my brain for a response that didn’t give away the fact that my mind was on another woman. “We went to the dinner Friday and then lunch the other day so some photographers could get photos of us. Graciella said something about us needing to be seen out together more than once in a short time span to get people talking.”

“Wow.” Thatcher’s brows went up. “Fine isn’t exactly a glowing review. I’d have thought you and Itzel would hit it off.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that I don’t like her…she’s sweet, and we had a nice time. It’s just⁠—”

“You don’t like her, like her,” he finished, a look of understanding on his face.

Not the way I like—I cut that thought off.

I tucked my hands in my pockets, needing to do something other than hold them at my sides, wishing there was a rink edge to grip onto.

“I mean, I shouldn’t be, anyway.” I shrugged. “That wasn’t what either of us signed up for.”

“True, but you’ve got to sell this thing, right? Are you at least a little attracted to her? I remember having that conversation with Ari. She practically cornered me in my car to talk about how we’d handle the public displays of affection portion of being fake. I was nervous she’d tell me I wasn’t allowed to touch her.”