Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Noel
“And with the triple word, that’s ... sixty-two points.” Talia waggles her brows at me and Chase, showboating over the way she’s dominating us in Scrabble.
“I don’t think that’s even a word,” Chase grumbles.
“Is that an official challenge?” Talia reaches for the official Scrabble dictionary.
“No.” I give Chase a warning look. “It’s a word.”
“Ixnay?” He furrows his brow. “You’re getting hosed, Dad.”
“Challenge it,” Talia says gleefully.
“It means to nix something,” I tell my son.
“Nix?” He gives me a skeptical look.
I roll my eyes. “Moving on. It’s your turn.”
“I do accept unconditional surrenders,” Talia says.
“No one’s surrendering,” I say.
Lucien sits down at the table, a plate loaded up with pecan pie, a frosted brownie, and ice cream. “Does anyone have any idea where she gets her competitive streak? She’s cutthroat.”
“So weird,” Audra quips from the kitchen island.
I shrug. “I’ve never met a good hockey player who’s not competitive.”
“Can we watch one of your old games?” Chase asks.
I have every game I ever played or coached in a file on my computer, and I regularly back it up to a hard drive. I don’t know why I keep them; it’s not like I watch them.
“It’s a day off hockey,” Talia says. “Let’s watch a movie.”
“I vote for Elf,” Chloe calls out from the couch.
My phone buzzes from its face-down spot on the table. I pick it up and read the text.
Jules: I need to talk. Call me tonight if you have time.
I text back immediately, concerned.
Noel: Are you ok?
Jules: Yeah. Just call later if you can.
Noel: Of course I can. I’m finishing up a game. I’ll call you after.
Jules: We’re still cooking like peasants without a chef. Make it tonight. After 9.
Noel: I’d invite you over, but Audra’s staying here.
Jules: I understand.
Noel: Want to meet up somewhere to talk?
Jules: I can’t. I’ll explain later.
I frown at my phone, concerned. Is she sick or hurt?
Noel: Want me to drop by your place later?
Jules: Aren’t your kids there?
“Are we interrupting the drafting of your novel?” Talia asks, annoyed.
“Give me a second. Go get some pie or something.”
“I think Lucien ate all of it.”
“Geez,” he mutters. “Feeling the love at my first Turner family Thanksgiving.”
I return to my attention to my phone.
Noel: They’ll take off by eight. Audra’s going out with Lucien and Talia and some other players.
Jules: Okay, come over. It has to be after nine, though.
Noel: Text me the address. Happy Thanksgiving.
Jules: Happy Thanksgiving. See you tonight.
Jules: This isn’t me angling for sex. I really do need to talk.
I smile at my screen.
Noel: I know.
I put my phone back on the table, wondering what’s going on with her. A day off her usual crazy schedule may have given her the time to think about things and decide middle-of-the-night hookups with a man eighteen years older than her aren’t doing it for her anymore.
If she dumps me, I’ll take it like a man. She’s made me happier than I’ve ever been with a woman, but it’s not a real relationship, like she deserves.
It’s going to hurt like hell if she ends up falling for one of my players. I know we can’t last forever because she’s young and wants different things than I do. She probably wants marriage and kids, like many women her age do.
Could I survive seeing her pregnant with a mini Isaac? Just the thought gives me heartburn.
“Dad, do you want dessert?” Chloe asks me.
I exhale heavily, pushing my worries about Jules aside. “Yeah, but I’ll get it myself.”
Standing, I walk into the kitchen, where the kids are all talking and eating on the five desserts the chef made. It’s the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. All my kids are here—even Audra, who plans to file for divorce from Kyle.
And there’s peace. No raging Angie losing her mind over place settings and wine choices. She always seemed to think the more people we had over for holidays, the more of a big deal she was.
I’ve always hosted my players without a place to go on Thanksgiving, but Carter and Suki offered up their home this year. I’m glad I had a year of just me and my kids.
And now I get to see Jules tonight, too. I just hope it’s not the last time I see her outside of work.
When Jules opens her front door that night around nine-thirty, she offers up a sad smile.
“Hey,” she says softly. “The boys are asleep upstairs. We can talk in my room.”
“Your place is great,” I say.
“Thanks.”
She’s wearing pink, silky-looking pajamas, her button-up top and pants matching, and a lightweight gray bathrobe. Her Grinch slippers complete the look and make me smile.
Her home is a beautiful, brick two-story in a nice subdivision right outside the city. The lots in the neighborhood all have immaculate landscaping, even with the trees bare in the cold of November.
The inside of the house feels like her, with touches of her family. In the large family room, a huge gray sectional has textbooks sitting on one cushion, a notebook and laptop next to them, and a few toy cars on an ottoman.
I can smell apple pie, and the decor looks like a Pottery Barn ad. It’s clean and cozy.
She leads me into her bedroom, which is on the main level. The queen bed is made up with a colorful quilt and pillows, the walls painted pale blue. A gold floor lamp with a shade made of white feathers glows from a corner of the room, providing the only light.
In another corner, a vintage record player is playing an Etta James album.
Jules closes the door behind us and gets on the bed, sitting down. She pulls her legs up to her chest, looking thoughtful.
I take my coat off, setting it on a dark-green velvet chair with a sweater thrown on it.
“I’ve been worried about you,” I say.
Her sad smile returns. “Will you lie with me?”
“Sure.”
I kick off my shoes and get onto her bed. She curls into me like I’ve grown used to. The warm, clean scent of her perfume mixes with a coconut scent. Must be her body wash.
“Tell me about your day,” she says softly, draping her arm across my chest.
“It was good. The chef made more food than a dozen people could’ve eaten. We played games. I dominated at Battleship.
“Battleship?” She sounds amused. “I’ve never played that one.”
“I’ll teach you sometime. If you don’t mind losing.” I kiss the top of her head. “How was your day, beautiful?”
She hooks her leg over my legs, sighing softly. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“Okay.”
Fear lances through me. Is she sick? Seriously sick?
“I have one of the worst mothers who ever mothered. Blair and I were so happy to get away from her. She’s an addict and an alcoholic and nothing ever mattered as much as the next fix and the next man she was going to sink her claws into.”
I smooth a hand over her hair, stunned by what she’s saying. She’s the brightest, most grounded twenty-nine-year-old I’ve ever known. The way she values family, I assumed she came from a strong, close-knit one.
“We haven’t seen the demon who birthed us in a really long time.
Coop was a baby the last time she came crawling.
When she said she needed help, I gave her five hundred bucks just to go away.
She knocked on my door again today. I don’t know how she found our address; we’re pretty fanatical about using our PO box for everything. ”
“I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know what else to say. If I’d been here, she never would have had to deal with that, because I would’ve handled it. But we both have our own families and lives. Our relationship is a secret—something I have all for myself and never have to explain to anyone.
She sighs heavily. “My therapist told me not to give her anything when she comes back, so I didn’t. She wanted to stay here.”
“Did she give you trouble when you said no?”
“Nothing she hasn’t done before. I wanted to tell you why I’m in this mood, but let’s not talk about it anymore. Just hold me and tell me I’m pretty.”
I tighten my hold on her and kiss her forehead. “Pretty’s not enough. No matter what’s going on around you, you just ... shine. All the time. Hearing your laugh makes my day better. No one but you could have convinced me to wear a face mask.”
She laughs lightly. “And your skin thanks you for it.”
When I’m staying in her hotel room on the road, she sometimes wants me to put on a face mask with her before we go to sleep. I was reluctant, but it seemed to mean a lot to her. And honestly, my face does feel great after.
“I missed you today,” she says softly.
“I missed you, too.”
“Did you?”
“Of course.”
“Would you still want me if all my hair fell out?”
I furrow my brow. “Uh ... why are you asking?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Could you maybe wear a hat?”
She lifts her face and leans up on an elbow to meet my eyes, looking stern. “Noel.”
“I’m joking. Of course I’d still want you.”
“What if I had the head of a Viking warrior?”
I laugh, brushing her hair away from her face. “I don’t know, babe. You’ve got a gorgeous face.”
“Well, it would be through no fault of my own. Like, I’d just wake up one day and have the head of a Viking warrior, with a braided beard and a metal helmet thing. Would you still want me?”
“Hm. What about your voice? Would you do Viking war cries in a deep manly voice when I’m fucking you?”
Her eyes light playfully. “No. I’d still have my voice. But like bad teeth and dirty hair. Through no fault of my own.”
“I’d still want you. With all the lights off, though.”
“What if I was the Little Mermaid? I couldn’t walk and I’d have no vag.”
“You’d have a mouth, though?”
“Yep. And a clamshell bra.”
“Hell yeah.”
She grins playfully. “Which one would you choose—Viking head and I still have my own body, or Little Mermaid and no vag?”
“Mm, that’s tough.”
“I can’t walk at all as the Little Mermaid. I guess I’m just in bed all the time, waiting to suck your dick and sing you songs.”
If there’s a right answer, I don’t know what it is. No one’s ever amused me like she does, though.
“I mean, I could get used to that.”
“No sex ever again, though.”
I put my hand on her hip, her scent and her closeness making my cock stiffen. “Yeah, I’d have more of you in the Viking head scenario, so I’m going with that one.”
She smiles and I know I answered right. “I’m going to get some apple pie and water. Do you want anything?”
“Water would be good.”
“Can you stay for a few hours? You’d have to leave before the boys get up, because we don’t do men staying the night.”
“Sure.”
She’s so damn beautiful, even in a robe with her makeup off and her hair wild. Even though this is different from our usual time together, I like it. We don’t have a conventional relationship, but Jules is important to me, and we’re more than just sex.
Now that I know she’s not dumping me, I can enjoy the rest of our time away from work.