Page 82 of Hot Puck
It’s annoying and frustrating and I want to fix it as much as I want to hold the Cup my first season in the NHL.
Both of those things seem like a pipe dream. Except we’re winning and playing the best hockey, and the girls are doing better than well. Why can’t I have the Cup and Gem?
In two weeks it will be Christmas, and I haven’t done anything about it. I don’t remember where we put any of our Christmas decorations.
Every other year of my life, now would be when Dad would load us up in his truck and drive out to the farm to chop down a tree to bring home to Mom, who would be waiting with boxes of ornaments ready to hang, hot chocolate with marshmallows and cookies.
I can’t decide if I should try to replicate other Christmases or start new traditions.
And I haven’t a clue what Gem normally does. It’s a subject I need to discuss with her. If I can get her to talk to me that is.
Speak of the devil…
The door to the garage opens and Gem steps through it, her hair a mess and what looks like streaks of mud are on her skirt, her hands, and chin.
“What the fuck?” I’m in front of her, running my hands up and down her arms before cradling her face. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
After the last few months with Cami, Bex and Whit, and those reporters, my first thought is someone attacked her.
“I’m fine. Dirty but fine.” She shrugs out of my hold and steps around me. “I need a hot shower, clean clothes, and a bottle of wine. In that exact order.”
“I’ll get the wine.” I walk toward the pantry and the cellar on the far side of it. “Any preference?”
I might have learned a thing or two about wine, but I can’t drink it. Not that I drink anything really. I’ve had the odd beer and Magnus Lund bought me a scotch one night after a particularly hard game we lost in overtime. But when it comes to wine selection, I leave it to Gem.
“Whatever. I don’t care.” She disappears down the hallway that leads to her rooms without looking back.
I’m torn between following her to find out why she looks like she’s been dragged across the ground or going to get her wine. In the end, the wine wins out because in the months I’ve lived in this house I’ve never stepped foot inside her personal space.
The space she’s spent more and more time in since the day I threatened to take the girls and move out.
I can admit, even if it took me a while, it was a dick move. I should have just told her why I thought we were friends. That I wished we were more.
I should have taken into consideration what she said too. Because we might not have been talking like we did at first, but I haven’t stopped studying her. Learning about her.
I’ve asked Eli a few questions too. And surprisingly, he’s answered them. In fact, the man has given me some valuable insight into who Gem is. How she became the powerhouse Natalie Redding, COO of Rogue sportswear, and owner and GM of the Rogues NHL franchise.
She’s worked her ass off.
All the women of KAW have.
They deserve every success because they’ve earned it. Despite a few digs in the media from years ago about them all being ‘trust fund babies’, there is very little about how they’ve worked to build their globally successful business.
It’s shocking really. And maybe they wanted it that way, less chance of people—and by people, I mean the media—coming after them to drag them down.
Except now, with the Rogues, there’s no going under the radar. They’re in the spotlight every day we play. And if any of that attention has to do with the way Gem just came home, I’m going to…
Fuck! I don’t know what I’ll do.
I want to protect her, support her, love her, and I can’t do any of them. Not in the open. The only avenue I have is to love her in secret and support her by playing my ass off so the Rogues win—bring home the Cup.
Inside the cellar is cool, the room specifically designed to house thousands of dollars worth of wine. Not that the shelves are full. When I asked about it after we moved in, Gem said it was already in the house, and it seemed a waste of money to rip it out.
Her explanation was sound and after I took over the basement for my home gym, I wasn’t going to point out the area could be used for other things.
I’ve tried not to change anything else in the house. It’s my home—feels like my home—but I don’t feel as though I have the right to change anything else.
Hence, my procrastination over Christmas decorations.
