Chapter 40
40
LAYLA
“ M mm. Something smells good,” I hear Archer’s raspy voice before he appears in the entryway to the kitchen.
I turn around grinning, with a spatula in my hand. “I hope you’re hungry. I think I cooked too much bacon.”
“I was talking about you ,” his voice rumbles, making me shiver. “But breakfast smells good, too.”
He strolls over to the stove where I’m nearly finished cooking the bacon and scrambled eggs. I turn my attention back to the skillet. He comes up behind me, pressing his lips to my shoulder, where his shirt that I’m still wearing has slipped down to expose a little skin. His face is cold from outside where he just finished chopping wood for the day and his beard tickles me.
Fighting a blush, I push him toward one of the barstools. “You’d better stay back before you make me burn all this.”
He pushes out his bottom lip in a pout. “Fine. Be like that. Is Sky still sleeping?”
One corner of my mouth quirks and I nod. “Poor little guy’s worn out. That birthday party got him good.”
Archer chuckles low, mumbling under his breath. “Psht. The after-party was even better.”
An avalanche of memories from last night comes rushing in.
I shoot Archer a look and struggle not to smile. “Behave,” I scold him softly.
“Okay. Okay.” He holds up his hands in surrender. But I don’t trust the wicked little smirk on his sexy lips.
I know we promised it was a one-time thing but with the way Archer is looking at me right now, I’m not so sure how I’m supposed to keep that promise. I think that maintaining some degree of physical distance between us will be step one.
I try to steer the conversation into safer territory. “Any plans for today?” I ask him.
He crinkles his nose at me. “You’ll be happy to know that I’m going to go play some hockey with my brothers on this fine Sunday,” he says, a snarky undertone to his voice.
I laugh. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Apparently, Ronan was running his mouth and bragging about being the best hockey player in the family. Naturally, Nolan got triggered and challenged him to a match up. Darius tried to talk them out of it but the twins are so damn stubborn.” He leans back against the counter, stealing a sip from my coffee mug.
A long time ago, before Nolan took over the bar from Grandpa Brighton, he had dreams of being a professional hockey player just like his twin brother. But then he became a father and decided to alter his plans, prioritizing his little girl over his hopes for an athletic career. Looks like Nolan’s passion for the game is still alive and well, though.
“So you and the rest of your brothers got dragged into the twins’ beef?” A smile lingers on my lips as I start plating up the bacon. Archer’s going to need some extra protein to get out there on the ice today.
He confirms my theory with a nod. “Exactly. So sick of always getting caught up in their drama.” His expression softens hopefully. “Hey, why don’t you and Sky come watch us? If you don’t already have plans for today.”
“Yeah?” I question him, almost surprised that he’s not sick of us after the way we tore up his house at the birthday party yesterday.
“ Yes ,” he replies with conviction. “I would really like it if you both were there.”
I bite my lip to fight my big, cheesy smile. “We wouldn’t miss it.”
Sky wakes up a short while later. After the three of us finish breakfast, we bundle up and load into Archer’s truck.
We make the drive out to Ronan’s house and Sky loses his mind with excitement when Archer explains that we’ll be watching another hockey game. Although, I think my little boy gets a bit disappointed when Archer admits that this rink doesn’t have boards for the guys to crash into.
The rest of the family is already there when we arrive. The driveway is packed with cars. Ronan comes to meet us in the front yard when we pull up.
As Archer helps get Sky out of his carseat, I approach his youngest—and arguably rowdiest—brother.
“Hey, how’s your teammate doing?” I ask Ronan. “The one who was injured in that last game.”
The hockey captain’s eyes go dim with worry. “Raines? It’s not looking good for him,” Ronan answers. “He may never be able to play professional hockey again.”
I clasp a hand over my chest. “Dang. That’s so awful.”
“I haven’t spoken to him much, but his agent tells me that he’s focused on doing whatever it takes to get back in the game. They’re looking for a quiet place for him to hide out as he recovers.”
“I’m so sorry to hear all that. I can’t even imagine.” I shake my head. Now I feel bad for even bringing it up.
“Thanks, Layla.” He shrugs, trying to make light of the issue. “It’s the risk we all face as hockey players, I guess.”
“Right.” I give my head a small nod.
Archer lifts Sky high up onto his shoulders and we all trek over to Ronan’s private rink. His brothers and father along with Mason are already waiting there.
After quickly greeting the rest of the Brighton men and giving Archer a quick peck on the cheek for good luck, I carry Sky up the path toward Ronan’s guesthouse.
Nicky, Karli, Daphne, Inez, Ziggy and Mrs. Brighton are all keeping warm inside. They welcome us with warm tea, hot chocolate and a ridiculous amount of snacks.
We eat, drink, gossip and watch our men from the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the outdoor rink. Karli kicks us all out of the kitchen area, whipping up a delicious lunch for us all. Mrs. Brighton gets down on the floor to play with Sky. She keeps calling him her grandson, and it’s so dang sweet.
“Cookie, Gramma?” Sky begs, his big brown eyes batting up at her.
She starts to tear up when my child calls her that, and that earns him a bunch of snuggles and yet another treat.
He quickly realizes that showering the woman with sweet smiles and affection are the ticket to getting more and more cookies. Mrs. Brighton just can’t resist his innocent smiles and the way he bats his eyes at her. The poor lady is completely wrapped around my son’s chocolate-smeared finger.
Gosh—this is the kind of relationship I wish my son had with my mother. But as always, Mom is too busy chasing her anxious-avoidant husband around. Nothing else ever seems to matter in her world. Not even her grandchild.
Shaking my head, I intervene, scooping him out of Mrs. Brighton’s arms. “No more cookies for you, Sky. And stop trying to sweet talk your new grandma to get your way.”
My little trickster flashes me a knowing grin as I wipe up his face with a damp paper towel in the kitchen.
“I think we’re gonna need a tougher ref out there to keep the boys in check. Those jerks are really giving Dad a hard time.” Karli chuckles, her chin motioning to the hockey game going on in the yard.
Nicky shakes her head. “The twins are so competitive and over the top.”
With my son on my hip, I stroll over to watch Ronan and Nolan’s showdown out the picture window.
The twins are arguing about some foul or other and their father is playing referee. As far as I can tell, Nolan’s team seems to be winning against Ronan’s. Mr. Professional Hockey Captain isn’t happy about it at all. But Inez and Stella are jumping up and down next to me, cheering Nolan on as he plays at his best out there.
They’re all so freaking serious about this. It’s almost funny.
Daphne flinches when Felix and Darius collide on the ice. “For a friendly game in the backyard, it sure does look aggressive.” A worried crinkle slashes across her forehead.
But despite the occasional angry exchange over a foul, the guys look like they’re having a good time. Everything is going well out there on the ice. Until it isn’t.
I get a bad feeling as I watch Archer race across the ice, controlling the puck as he goes. Then his ankle twists in a funny way. In a way that looks painful.
My stomach drops.
He flies through the air and goes down hard, his facial expression contorting with so much pain it makes my heart stop.
Sliding Sky into Inez’s arms, I race blindly out of the house, without even grabbing my coat. The only thing on my mind is getting to Archer. Making sure he’s okay.
A million worst-case scenarios flood my head as the snow crunches under my boots.
When I make it to the rink, I’m slipping and sliding and pushing his brothers out of the way so that I can get to Archer.
He’s sprawled out on the ice, eyes closed, groaning in pain. I can’t tell if he’s injured his leg or his arm or something else. But there is no visible blood or bones poking out, so I find a small amount of comfort in that.
I gingerly crawl on top of him, careful to avoid putting any weight on his body as I cup his bearded face. “Archer. Archer. Talk to me, baby,” I say softly over and over.
His scrunched up eyes flutter open. When he sees me hovering over him, the brightest smile explodes across his face.
Tears flood my eyes instantaneously. I’m being dramatic but I don’t care. “You scared me, you big lug.” I shove softly at his chest.
His thick arm comes around me. “I’m right here, Belle. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Good…” The whisper gets lost in my clogged throat.
He pulls me into a deep kiss while his brothers whistle and hoot around us.I don’t care. I just care that my man is okay.
My fake man, I mean. Or after last night, maybe my real man. Or, whatever.
As I lie here with my cheek against his pounding chest, labels don’t even matter at this point.