Page 8 of Off Side

DREW

Itake a long draw from my beer and decide to start with how Tom came to be a part of my life. “When I was seventeen, your grandfather helped me through a rough time. I don’t want to share the details of that with you right now, but I may later if we get to that point. What I want you to know is because of his actions, I am where I am today, and he made me a better person for it.”

She raises her hand like she’s in school, and I shoot her a cutting look since I had asked for no interruptions.

But she interjects anyway, “I know I promised no interruptions, but you didn’t tell me your name.” She smiles softly at me, so I return the gesture.

“It’s Drew. Drew Morgan.”

“Thank you, Drew. Please continue. I’m sorry, but I wanted to know your name before you shared your story. I feel like you are about to unload something heavy on me.”

I nod in acknowledgment, take another drink, and continue the story, “After your grandpa took me under his wing, he became a huge mentor to me. I started out coming here after school, helping to care for the horses and, of course, the donkeys, but the horses really changed me. I worked hard for him. He took me in when my mom died even though I was an adult by then, but he didn’t want me to worry about paying rent and such while I went to university. He allowed me to stay here rent free as long as I kept on helping around the house and caring for the houses. He was busy getting the hockey team going and involved with the player selections that I was a great asset. I learned to cook, and I fell in love with the horses. When he became sick, he kept that from me at first, but he came to me several months ago and laid out a plan he had for me…and you. He wanted me to agree to his stipulations before he discussed it with his lawyer.”

I pause and glance over at Sam. She’s zeroed in on me and is paying close attention to what I’m saying, hanging onto my every word. Her eyes are a little glassy like she’s remembering her grandpa and is saddened. I take a deep breath and say, “Tom wanted me to make sure you adjusted to life without him. He was worried you wouldn’t address the grief and might become depressed. He specifically asked me to stay here in the house and make sure you take care of yourself. He knows the coaching will be stressful for you. He asked that I make sure you don’t get overwhelmed and to help make your life a bit easier until you adapt to everything he’s thrust upon you. He wants you to coach so badly, Sam. I could feel his desperation over it. I’m supposed to be like a magnificent house husband without the sex benefits.”

I throw her a nervous smile as she listens intently. I take that as I sign to continue talking. I also notice she hasn’t shown any outward reaction to the whole sex benefits thing. “I’m sure you’re wondering what’s in it for me? I won’t lie to you. There is a significant amount at stake for me. When I was still in university preparing for my thesis, I approached Tom with an idea. I really wanted to set up an equine therapy center and help other youths and adults. I’m already qualified to do that. I was scouting locations and searching for suitable horses when I approached him. At that time, we made a verbal deal. If I could commit to doing the Zamboni work at the rink, he’d allow me to use his horses since I was already very familiar with them. They had bonded with me, and he felt it was best for all of us, especially the horses, if they had me caring for them still. That’s sort of where our deal ended before he got sick. I was working with the horses while I tried to find a piece of property to build on.”

I can feel the tears building behind my eyes as I get to the next part of my story. I take a breath and clear my throat a few times. I can’t look directly at Sam now, but I know she’s patiently waiting to hear the rest. “About a month before he died, he asked me to meet him here for dinner. He was getting thin and weak. It was hard seeing him like that, understanding that he wouldn’t be with us much longer, but I was happy to be in his company, you know? He said he already had it in the will, and he was not taking no for an answer. He told me he wanted to leave me the portion of the farm I needed for the clinic: the pasture, the horse barn, and a sum of money to convert a portion of the barn into an office or client rooms or whatever I needed. He said the horses were already part of my heart, so it made sense they stay with me. He’d decided to do this because it felt right, and since I had helped so many people, including him, it was only right he help me back.”

I cleared my throat again and glance up. Sam had tears streaming down her face. I knew mine were right behind hers, but I had one more piece of the puzzle to put out there. “We agreed all of that would be in the will with one caveat…I have to help you for this season. If the lawyer thinks I did what Tom wanted, then it will be granted. If he thinks I didn’t, then I guess it’s over, and I move out when you tell me to. I do have a lot riding on us getting along and doing what Tom wanted me to do. I know I’ve been a bit of an asshole toward you, and I’m sorry, but it’s an unfortunate coping mechanism I have.”

I’ve leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, bouncing them nervously. If Sam doesn't go along with this, my hopes and dreams are going to go out the window. I will lose the horses I love, and I will be much further away from starting my clinic. It’s the biggest dream I’ve had, aside from making it into the NHL. I don’t count that, though, because I’ve realized that wasn’t my choice. It was my father pushing me, and I was too young to decide myself, or too naïve to know I had a choice. Either way, I know without a doubt, I need these horses and the land.

It has to work out.

SAM

I sit silently, listening to Drew tell this tale of a past shared with my grandpa I knew nothing about. I’m hurt and stunned Grandpa didn’t share this with me. I’m also a bit shocked our paths have never crossed before. What is Grandpa’s agenda? There is no doubt in my mind that Drew, aka mountain man, is invested in this outcome and nervously waiting to see what I will say. It sounds like his success is riding on me being successful, and I don’t like the pressure it puts on me. What if I fail and am the reason another person loses their dream? God, the thought of that already has my anxiety rearing its ugly head.

And what was all that about a house husband? I literally know nothing about this guy. Okay, that’s not totally true. I know he can cook and bake heavenly bread. I also know he has a cock so big, it probably rivals the donkeys. I snort laugh. Donkey Dong, Donkey Cock, Donkey Dick…so many to choose from. Shit, now he’s looking at me with those worried puppy dog eyes. Ugh, this is going to be a constant struggle to keep this a platonic relationship. Why did he have to drop that damn towel?

“Care to share what you’re snorting about?”

Busted. “Uh, I was thinking the only thing I actually know about you is that you have a donkey-sized cock. I guess I also know you drive the Zamboni. Oh, and you can cook! Somehow, I’m supposed to hold the fate of your future in my hands and be okay with it. That stresses me to the point I might need to go eat more bread,” I say all that rather quickly and take a drink of my cooler only to find it empty. Huh. Wonder when that happened.

He stands up swiftly. “I can go make more bread if that’s what you need,” he blurts out.

“Ah, no. Don’t go doing that. I mean, not right this second or anything, but I could definitely go for more bread in the future. At the moment, I’m trying to wrap my head around why my grandpa kept all of this from me. It’s a lot to digest.”

He nods slowly and sits back down. He’s back to bouncing his knee, probably a nervous habit. Should he be nervous? I really don’t know. On one hand, I’m happy my grandpa could do this for someone. He had so much love to give, and all he ever did was give and give. On the other hand, I’m angry and confused that he’s forced me into such an unconventional situation to follow through with his wishes. There has to be more to this than even Drew knows. My appointment with the lawyer is tomorrow, and it’s only then I realize Drew may be there as well. The lawyer did say the appointment was with all parties involved.

“Do you have a meeting with Mr. Burns tomorrow morning as well?” I ask him.

He appears a bit startled. “Yes, I do. I’m guessing we are meeting at the same time. 10:00 A.M.?”

“Yes, looks that way. I’m thinking our questions will be answered then.”

“Sam, I…can we just start over?” He sounds sad and apologetic.

I didn’t think we started off that bad, but I stand up and hold out my hand for him to shake. I was bitchy I suppose, and he was fairly rude, although it wasn’t completely his fault. He dropped a towel for me, though. The only way I’d like to start over is if he kept doing that. Over and Over. Good grief, somebody tell my vagina to give it a rest and stop pining for Donkey Kong.

“Sam Maxwell, it’s nice to meet you, Drew.” I smile.

He accepts the gesture and slips his hand into mine.

A jolt of electricity zips up my arm at his touch. Whoa. We both pull our hands back like we touched the stove top when it’s still on. But looking at his face, his eyes are hooded, and he slowly licks his lips. We’ve got some sort of crazy attraction going, I think that’s obvious, but this is…weird. Confusing. Hot. So hot. God damn. How the hell am I going to keep this, whatever this is, professional and not climb him like a tree every chance I get?

I take a step back and wipe my hand on my leg. Sheesh, it’s not cooties, Sam, get a grip.

“Thanks for telling me all of that, Drew. It fills in some gaps for me. I have no intention of making you move out or taking the horses or whatever other dark thoughts you have going on. I know I’m demanding and perhaps slightly bitchy, but I’m used to men trying to flex muscle and tell me I don’t belong. It’s hard being a woman and harder being a short woman in what’s perceived as a man’s domain. As long as you don’t pull that crap with me, I’m sure we’ll be okay.”

He visibly sags in relief at my words. “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate that. Listen, I’m going to get another loaf of bread ready for the morning and plan our dinner, and then get some sleep. It’s been a long day. See you in the morning.”

He picks up our empty bottles and leaves the room on his way to the kitchen. I can hear him rummaging in the cabinets and mumbling to himself. I feel like I’m in some sort of alternate universe. I have this hot guy who cooks and seems very nice, acting like a caring husband, but in my mind, he’s off limits. I head up to my room to take some time to unpack and get some much-needed rest as well.

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