Page 3 of Wild Ever After
She continues to pound on the front door as she takes out her cell phone, taps on it a couple of times and then holds it to one ear, all while muttering something unintelligible under her breath.
As I get closer, I’m better able to take in the vision that she is in white. The veil hangs over one shoulder and the wind keeps blowing it around her head. She doesn’t have enough hands to fight with it, knock on the door, and hold up her phone. Even with exasperation written all over her face, she’s still gorgeous.
I approach cautiously. “They aren’t home.”
At my words, she spins and lets both hands drop to her sides. “Declan.”
I jut my chin toward the house. “They left about an hour ago.”
She scans the neighborhood. The small cul-de-sac is filled with houses owned by Wildcat hockey players like me. Ash’s house is across the street. He lives there with Tyler and Tyler’s fiancée, Piper. Our team captain, Jack, lives at the very end of the subdivision. A block over Johnny Maverick and his wife just bought a house. And last week, I closed on my place.
It’s a blast living so close to my teammates. Practical, too, since we hang out so much. We’re friends above everything else. Plus, the houses on this street are awesome. They’re close together, but still have a decent-size yard, and we’re not far from the arena.
“Did you need something?” I ask, since, after my name, she hasn’t spoken another word.
“Yes. No.” She shakes her head. The light red strands of her long hair catch the sunlight. “I don’t know.”
She gives me a sad smile and then starts for her car. Except, instead of getting in, she sits on the curb in front of it.
I stand frozen, trying to decide if I should engage or head back to my place, but when her shoulders start to shake and I realize she’s crying, I move toward her before I even comprehend what I’m doing.
Taking a seat next to her, I let my long legs stretch out in front of me.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffles and keeps her head down, so I can’t see her face. “I’m okay. You can go. I just need a minute.”
“I needed to take a break anyway.”
She sniffles again and looks up. Jade has these big brown eyes that stand out against her fair complexion. Her eyes are one of her best features — though if I’m completely honest, she has a lot of best features — but right now with those wide, tear-filled eyes aimed at me, I feel way in over my head. She obviously needs comforting, but I don’t know if I should ask what’s wrong or just sit here. Let her cry in peace? Maybe offer her a beer? I decide doing nothing is the least risky course of action.
“How’s the new house?” she asks after a few minutes of silence.
“It’s good.” I clear my throat and rub my palms together. I’m thrown by the change in topic, but happy for something to say. “I got the carpet removed and new flooring put in, new windows —” I stop. “Do you really want to hear about this right now?”
She inclines her head. “Yes, please. I need a distraction or I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.”
“It can’t be that bad. You’re getting married this weekend.”
She cuts me a glance that has me removing my foot from my mouth.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry.” I should have let her cry in peace.
She swipes at the tears tracking down her cheeks and sits a little straighter. “It’s fine. I’m going to figure this out. I’m sure he just needs a few hours to cool down. We’ve had so much going on these past couple of weeks, getting ready for the wedding. Or maybe it’s cold feet. That happens, right?”
The hopeful look on her face keeps me from saying what I’m really thinking – you have to be some sort of soulless bastard to break up with a girl while she’s wearing her wedding dress. “Yeah. I think it does.”
Her phone vibrates in her hand, and she silences it.
“I take it that’s not him?”
“It’s my boss calling. She was there when Sam called things off and called our engagement a sham.”
Damn. That sounds like more than cold feet. I don’t know all the details about her relationship with Sam, but I know that Jade’s been writing about their upcoming wedding for the magazine where she works. It’s supposed to be a pretty big deal—a feature story in their print magazine showcasing their big, fancy wedding. Or that’s what I’ve heard from the tidbits Leo’s shared.
She invited the entire team, even though only a few of us have spent any time with her. I guess having a bunch of pro hockey players on the invite list was an interesting angle to someone. I don’t get it, but I agreed to go. She’s always been friendly and nice, and Leo said it would mean a lot to her.
“He has to change his mind,” she says, more to herself than me. “I can’t be this close to having everything I want for it to blow up in my face.”
In my experience, that’s exactly when things tend to blow up, but pointing it out seems less than helpful. And I’ve already put my foot in my mouth enough for one day.
