Page 69 of At First Smile
Tentatively his arms loop around my middle. “With the auction, my presence cosigns the charity’s work, but with the PSA it feels like I’d be giving Landon a seal of approval. That feels like a betrayal.”
“To the person whom Landon hurt?”
“Yes.” His chest rises and falls against my back.
“You don’t need to…”
I know he wants to tell me what happened. Why he did it. His body telegraphs the start and stop of the words he debates on letting out. “I do.”
“No, you don’t. You said you didn’t want to hide from me, but this isn’t hiding from me. You did it to protect someone you care about. I don’t need any other details.”
“But I want to tell you.” His fingers weave between mine. “Stefan Carlson is my coach. He’d been my coach at university. He’s always had a lot of faith in me as a player…as a man. When he jumped to the NHL with the Bobcats, he got them to get me traded from Nashville. His daughter, Olivia…Liv, is twenty. I’ve known her since she was a little girl. After Carlson’s wife died five years ago, she’s the most important thing to him.”
“He didn’t,” I hiss, suspecting exactly where this story is going.
“I ran into Liv in the hotel lobby the morning before the last game. She goes to university in Toronto and was there to have breakfast with her dad. She was upset and confided in me that she’d been seeing someone, they’d slept together, and then he ghosted her. I didn’t know it was Landon ‘til minutes after we lost the cup. We were still on the ice, and he’d made a snide comment about taking the cup and Carlson’s daughter’s virginity all in the same week.”
“That fucker… You’re not doing the PSA.” Face pinched, I sit up. “I take it back; I will be attending this charity event with you just to swat him with Cane Austen.”
“Punishing Pen.” He grins.
“Rowdy Rowan.” I grin back.
“We’re quite the pair.” He reaches for me and pulls me back into his chest. This time he cradles me, my ear pressed againsthis heart, listening to its gentle thump. “Doing the PSA with him would help my public image. I know Greg’s right about that.”
“What’s your good name to the world compared to your good opinion of yourself?” I tip my head up to him.
“Indeed.” His fingers comb into my hair. “I know it’s not the end of our date –”
Grasping his face, I bring his smile inches from mine. “You never have to beg with me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tell Me to Stop
Rowan
It’s been a perfect night. After the concert, I drove us back to Pen’s place. The entire drive, my brain came up with scenarios that wouldn’t end with me kissing her goodnight at the front door. Ones that would extend tonight just a bit longer. Lucky for me, Pen’s as smart as she is beautiful. As we pull onto her street, she bites her plump lower lip and suggests dessert.
“I have ice cream or brownies,” Pen says, slipping off her sandals and placing them on the small shoe rack by the door.
I follow her lead and take my runners off. “Why choose?”
She peers over her shoulder at me, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “I like the way your brain works.” Pen saunters across the small foyer towards the kitchen.
The two-story cottage-style house oozes charm. White-framed seascape watercolor paintings decorate the robin’s egg blue walls and plush inspirational message pillows, the kind my mam loves to buy at open-air markets, adorn the navy couch.Through the open window comes the delicate sound of wind chimes rustling in the gentle breeze. The scent of mint and orange spice drifts across the open-concept kitchen and living room space. If my brother Finn set one of his books in an idyllic oceanside cottage, this would be it.
“Is this Aunt Bea?” Picking up a silver framed picture from the white end table near a plush armchair, my mouth curls into a small smile.
An older woman with auburn hair the same shade as Pen’s, only cut short into a sleek bob, stands beside Pen and Cane Austen. In the photo’s background the sun sets over Stonehenge. Both women wear bright smiles and T-shirts that read,But First, Scones.
“Which photo are you talking about?”
“The one at Stonehenge.”
“Yeah. It was my high school graduation gift. Aunt Bea took me to London for two weeks. We’d do a trip every summer to somewhere different… Well, almost every summer.”
Setting the picture down, I turn. “How’d you pick what places made the list?”
