Page 96 of Blocked Shot
NATALIE
The California sunshine bathes the backyard in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows over the neatly mown grass. A citrus-sweet breeze stirs the leaves of the lemon tree, and the smoky scent of grilled vegetables still lingers in the air. Natalie sits on a low bench near the garden, her bare feet tucked under her, a cold glass of lemonade sweating in her hands. She could get used to this.
Jake stands near the patio with his sister and Sebastien, the three of them deep in conversation. Charlotte’s animated hands cut through the air as she speaks. Jake leans in listening, his brows drawn together in thought.
Tomorrow, she and Jake are leaving California. Together.
Natalie stayed. She got permission from her boss to work remotely, and Jesse shipped her clothes and a few comforts from home. The rest she picked up here. Jake’s eyes had lit up with wicked delight when she told him she needed to stop by Victoria’s Secret.
“I’m only saying,” Charlotte insists, folding her arms across her chest. “You like it here. The team’s solid, you’ve got sun year-round, you’re close to me and the twins, and Mom and Dad are a couple hours away. Why walk away from all that?”
Jake’s eyes flick toward Natalie. His expression softens immediately, like he’s found his answer.
“I’m not walking away,” he says. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Charlotte narrows her eyes. “Is that code for ‘following a girl to the frozen tundra’?”
Jake shrugs, a half-smile curving his mouth. “Pretty much.”
Charlotte groans and tosses up her hands. “God, you’re hopeless.”
Sebastien laughs and claps Jake on the back. “Nah, he’s not hopeless—he’s in love. You remember what that’s like, don’t you, Charlie?”
Natalie lifts her lemonade to hide her smile and the blush rising in her cheeks. She’s not trying to eavesdrop, exactly, but they’re not being subtle. And every time Jake speaks, her entire world shifts slightly, like gravity tilting toward him.
He’s so handsome it almost hurts. Her cheeks ache from smiling every time she looks at him. The playoff beard is gone now, shaved clean after the Coyotes’ crushing loss to the Avalanche in the third round. It still stings. They were so close to the finals. Natalie knows how much it gutted him. That was the closest he’s ever come to the Cup, and even now, the disappointment clings to him.
She wonders if some part of him thought it was his last shot.
“Anyway,” Jake says, rolling his shoulders. “You’re jumping ahead. The Coyotes haven’t made an offer. They might not. Nothing happens before July first anyway. And…”
“And?” Charlotte eyes him suspiciously.
Jake glances over, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Coach Barbier called. He offered me a job in Hartford.”
“Ajob?” Charlotte’s face scrunches. “In your own words, you strap knives to your feet and punch people holding sticks for a living. Whatjobare you qualified for?”
Jake chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Assistant coach. He wants me to work with the rookies.”
He steals a glance at Natalie, and her heart lifts. He doesn’t say it aloud, but she can tell how much it means to him—to be seen not just as a player, but as a leader. Someone who could shape something. Build something. Maybe even stay in the game without breaking his body every night.
Sebastien lets out a low whistle and grins. “Look at you, man. Joining the nine-to-five grind like the rest of us.”
Charlotte looks personally offended. “In Hartford? Seriously? You’re gonna bail on California for Connecticut? You do realize they have real winters there, right?”
Jake shrugs. “I haven’t decided anything yet. I told him I’d think about it.”
His gaze shifts to Natalie again, softer this time. “Right now, I just want to go home with my girl.”
With an exaggerated groan, Charlotte flops onto the bench beside Natalie, casting her a dramatic side-eye. “So you’re the one ruining my brother’s life, huh?”
Natalie stiffens, not entirely sure if Charlotte’s kidding. She hasn’t known her long, but she likes her—a lot—and she really wants Charlotte in her corner.
“That’s… not the plan,” she says quietly.
Charlotte squints at her for a beat, lips pursed. Then she breaks into a grin and bumps Natalie’s shoulder with a teasing nudge. “Relax. I’m messing with you. But promise me you won’t let him become a weird Canadian hermit, okay? He needs sunshine. And people. And regular access to decent tacos.”
“I’ll get him one of those happy lights,” Natalie promises. “Plus, it’s only for a few months. After that, who knows?”
