Page 22 of That Thing You Brew
What was I thinking?
That this is your dream guy and you want to help him?
But—marry him? By March?
See? You even know when his birthday is. You’d make a great wife!
But—I don’t like people. Hockey wives are in the spotlight. And people follow him everywhere. He’s on television. HIS FACE IS ON MERCH AND BILLBOARDS.
So what?
So … I can’t live in the public eye. I can’t even have a conversation with him without stuttering. How will I speak to the Wags or his teammates? The press?
The Wags will embrace you and rally around you. You know several of the wives and girlfriends already, including your cousin Gabby. Give them a chance. And you know Bailey, their sideline reporter. She’s in the Bevvie Bar at least twice a week. She’ll help.
I’ll make a fool of myself.
Xavier’s point exactly. Care less what people think about you, and relax.
“Pen?”
I love it when you call me Pen, I wanted to say.
I internally shushed the angel-devil banter in my head and squared my shoulders. “Y-you’re h-help-ping m-me. I … w-want to h-help you.”
Xavier’s eyebrows did that thing that made my knees weak. I stayed rooted to my spot, begging my heartbeat to slow and every muscle to hold on so I didn’t drop to the floor.
“There’s your answer, kid.” The man at the table looked at me. “You’re the barista, right? Lucky Penny?”
I nodded meekly.
“Perfect. Saves me a trip to your place. This will make great press. I need to call?—”
“NO,” Xavier growled, cutting off the man. “No calling anyone.” He turned back to me, his expression softening. “Penny, no. I’m helping you with your speaking so that you can followyourdream. I don’t expect anything in return. If you marry me, you’ll be stuck inmydream.”
He truly was the sweetest, most thoughtful man. My feet began to move, and they didn’t stop until I was next to him. I looked up into his shining eyes. He had to be thinking about his family and losing the castle—or chateau, as they’d called it. That was a lot of pressure. Plus, he was grieving for his best friend. And yet, he’d risk losing it all for my sake.
“P-plenty of t-time for all d-dreams,” I said.
“You hear her, Xavier? Don’t be foolish. The document doesn’t specify how long you have to be married for. You can split up whenever you want. People do it all the time.”
Xavier glared at him and squeezed my hand, breathing slowly through his nose. “I am not ‘people’ and neither is Penny. What you’re suggesting is dishonest.” He took both my hands in his and lifted them to his chest, facing me.
Our eyes locked.
I might die.
“What I’m suggesting is a solution to save your family’s estate. If you don’t take action, it’ll likely be auctioned off to the highest bidder and you Schwanns won’t see a penny of that profit—or your ancestral home—ever again.ThisPenny, whom you can see clearly, is willing to help to prevent that.”
Xavier tightened his grip and didn’t break our stare. “It’s too much to ask.”
“Then find a puck bunny. Or one of those powdery puffy girls or whatever they are that sit by your bench at every home game. There are endless women who would jump at this chance. I can draft the prenup tomorrow.”
Xavier shuddered. His vibrations jostled me, but I held my balance.
“No,” he stated again. I should say something, but there was zero chance it would come out unjumbled.
I pleaded with my eyes when he turned back to me, hoping he could read them. I didn’t want to let go of his hands. Here, standing like this with him, was as easy and as comfortable as the plush beanbag chair I had as a kid. Well, before Gabby and Tasha decided to use it as a landing mat for their tumbling.
