Chapter 28
MAVERICK
“How did it feel to be sidelined by Stellan Leek?” Susan’s green eyes lock on mine as if it’s a challenge, as if she’s waiting to see if I’ll go off.
We’re sequestered in a back area of an elegant restaurant downtown.
It’s one of those places where the tables are all dark, polished mahogany and the booths are all black leather and shiny brass.
Recessed lights cast a warm yellow glow, and we’ve just had perfectly cooked steaks, potatoes au gratin, and broccolini over small talk.
Now we’re each nursing thick tumblers of scotch, and it feels very formal and uncomfortable. It feels like I’m being interrogated.
I’ve been interviewed lots of times, but it’s always been easygoing, good-natured chats over hot dogs and beer if food were even involved.
Sports journalists usually want to get my hot take on new additions to the team, or they want to see if they can get me to spill whatever strategy we’re working on for the upcoming season. They want a fun scoop for the fans.
This interview is different.
Susan knows shit I’ve never shared publicly. She asks questions journalists usually consider off-limits. Haddy says she’s legit, but I find myself choosing my words and being careful.
“I didn’t like it.” I force a chuckle, not elaborating further.
“You’re the most important player on the Champions’ roster.” She states it as a fact, not something that could be debated. “It pissed off a lot of people.”
Clearing my throat, I shift in my chair. “Every player on the team is important.”
“Of course,” she laughs lightly. “Let me rephrase. Seasoned observers considered it a reckless move. How did you feel about the talks of trading you?”
It’s a flash in my chest, but I cover fast. “I wasn’t aware there were talks.”
Her brow arches, and she leans back in her seat. “Perhaps I misunderstood.”
I’m not sure if she’s trying to rattle me, but it’s not my first rodeo.
“Any time there’s a change in coaching staff, it takes a minute to see what’s going to happen.” My tone is calm, measured. “Coach Leek had a plan, and I think ultimately, it paid off.”
“What did you see as his plan?” She watches me closely.
I take a minute to decide how to answer.
“I’d been studied too much by the other teams. They knew what to expect when I was on the ice, and we needed new plays quick.
We also had a lot of fresh talent sitting on the bench, and I think he wanted to give those guys a chance to shine.
He wanted to shake things up, and I think he did. ”
Her eyes narrow, and her head tilts to the side. “You’re a very generous person.” A smile curls her lips, and I’m uncomfortable again. “Where does that come from? Not from your dad. Logan Murphy was a killer wide receiver who didn’t take shit from anyone.”
“Dad was a team player.” I look down at the polished tabletop, trying to remember what he told me about his days in the league. “He had some rivalries, but he wasn’t selfish.”
“He was hit with a vicious, personal foul that almost cost him his career, not to mention his ability to walk.”
She seems really pissed on Dad’s behalf. I nod, knowing what she’s referencing. It was an egregious foul, and I cringe thinking about what went down in those days.
“It’s true,” I say carefully. “But Dad had a degree in journalism. He was smart, and he came from a media family. Pivoting into sports radio and then to podcasting was a natural progression. He was ready to retire, and he wanted to be with my mom.”
“Are we seeing a similar pattern emerging in your career?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Sources tell me you’ve been spending a lot of time with a certain young lady who, like your mother, isn’t a local.”
Fuck me. I sit straighter in the booth, lowering my brow. “Who told you that?”
“I have my sources, Mr. Murphy.”
“You might want to double-check them.” There’s no way I’m giving up Dove to these sharks.
A sly smile curls her lips. “Perhaps I’m barking up the wrong tree? There was also talk about how hard Donovan Price worked to get you off the bench. He seemed very concerned…”
“Don’s team captain. It’s his job to look out for us.”
“Is that all it was?” Her eyebrow arches, and I lean back in my seat, exhaling a laugh.
“Wow.” I lift the scotch glass and take a sip. “That is quite a cast.”
“I don’t understand—”
“I mean, you’re fishing.” My tone is level. “Don and I are good friends. We’ve known each other a long time, and we work well together. That’s all.”
Her eyes blink down to the table before snapping to mine again. “Are the rumors true about your team captain? I’ve heard whispers he’d do well on Heated Rivalry.”
I study my glass, holding my expression still. The last thing I’d ever do is feed the rumor mill, and Don has his reasons for keeping his private life private. Still, who the fuck is talking to her?
“I don’t speculate on my teammates’ personal lives.”
It’s all I’ll say.
“So many of your teammates are open about their private lives. I guess it makes folks wonder when others aren’t.”
She gives me a knowing look, but I hold steady.
I know damn well how long and hard Gavin and Haddy tried to hide their relationship from the tabloids and why. I remember how those jerks treated my mom. I don’t know who she’s referencing, but we all do our best to keep our private lives private.
“I’m not sure where you get your information, Sue, but you’re taking a lot of big swings today.”
“Well, like every good fisherman, I get up very early.” She lifts her tumbler of scotch, tipping it in my direction before taking a sip. “I also know you’re very good at keeping secrets.”
“How would you know something like that?”
“Come now, Mav, we all know you hid your hockey career from your family for years.”
Forcing a smile, I do my best to steer us into those safe waters. “My mom always dreamed I’d be a pro golfer. I didn’t want to let her down.”
Susan huffs a laugh, returning her glass to the table. “The Bradford Boys are a football dynasty. Why wouldn’t you follow in your father’s and your grandfather’s footsteps?”
“I’m a Murphy, Miss Jackson.”
I’m also getting tired of this interview.
I was raised by strong, assertive women, and I respect her trying to dig deep and make this profile her own. It makes me think I underestimated her. But I don’t like the feeling she’s trying to rattle me into revealing some deep, dark secret.
“Hockey is a dangerous sport. Some would say even more dangerous than football.”
“I guess it depends on who you’re playing.”
“You had a pretty bad injury a few months ago. Any residual effects from it?”
“Just these.” I point to the glasses I’m wearing.
She smiles, nodding. “Glasses are a good look for you.”
“Thanks.” I glance down, wondering why I didn’t set up a call with Gavin to get me out of this.
Isn’t that what movie stars do? Arrange an urgent phone call so they can ditch out if things get uncomfortable.
“So you’re back in the game, and it’s business as usual?”
“If you call winning the Cup business as usual. We’re looking forward to bringing that trophy back to the West Coast where it belongs. That you can print.”
Her red lips spread in a big smile. “I’ll be very happy to print that.” She slides out of the booth, standing and holding out her hand. “I appreciate you being so generous with your time. I know it’s not easy being grilled.”
I ease out as well, standing in front of her. “Oh, so you meant to do that.”
Her head drops back with a laugh. “I’ve found shaking things up is the only way to get something fresh.”
“Is that so?” We both start to walk in the direction of the front entrance. “Is that why you know so much about me?”
“Partly.” She squints up at me. “You might say I’ve been following your family all my life. I grew up watching highlight reels of your father. Logan Murphy is a legend.”
“Yeah,” I nod, feeling softer toward her. “Dad was pretty great.”
“And those blue eyes…” She does a little shiver. “He’s so good-looking.”
Soft feelings gone. “You know, my mom eats girls like you for a snack.”
A loud laugh bursts from her lips, and she grabs my arm. “Don’t worry, Mav. I know my place.”
“Uh-huh.” I’m not buying it. “Either way, thanks for lunch. I look forward to seeing your article.”
“I’ll send you a copy.” She grabs my arm, pulling me back. “Final quote, what happens if you win the Cup?”
“You mean when we win the Cup?” I do a finger-gun, and she holds up both hands, smiling and nodding.
“Yes, when you win the Cup.”
“We’re going to Disneyland, of course.”
Everybody’s on the back patio when I get home. I drop my duffel inside my bedroom and grab a beer from the fridge before walking out to join them.
The string lights are on, casting a soft yellow glow, and music drifts from the Bluetooth speakers on the corners of the house. Gavin sits in a chair with Lucy asleep on his chest, and Owen is across from him with Maddie on his lap playing with Zander.
Dove stands with Gina and Haddy at the top of the steps watching Kelani and Haddy’s toy poodle Peepee playing in the yard. It’s so familiar and homey, and thinking it’s going to end aches in my chest.
“Maverick!” Haddy spots me standing in the doorway watching them. “When did you get back? Get over here and tell us how it went.”
Dove shifts her stance, and her blue-green eyes blink up to mine. I think about holding her in my arms all night. I think about how bad I hated leaving her this morning to go to practice. Most of all, I think about how much it’s going to hurt next week when she’s no longer here.
“How’s the small-town boy turned superstar?” Gavin teases, and I flip him the bird.
“Did she ask you anything interesting?” Haddy walks over to stand beside me, and the girls follow.
I want to pull Dove into my arms and hold her, but we’ve seriously toned down the PDAs in front of the cousins. It’s just easier, especially with the future being so uncertain.
I’ve got to make a plan for the future, but for the immediate present, the plan is to put my head down and keep my eyes on the goal.
“She asked a lot of questions I didn’t want to answer. Either she was guessing, hoping I’d slip up, or somebody’s been talking out of school.”
“I don’t like that.” Haddy’s brow furrows.
I glance over at the guys. “Was there talk about trading me?”
“What?” Owen’s voice rises, and he sits straighter.
Maddie hops off his lap, to go where Kelani is hopping around the yard chasing Haddy’s little dog.
“Bruh.” Even Gavin is angered by this suggestion. “Nobody’s trading you. We just got back together.”
“I haven’t heard any such thing.” Haddy crosses her arms. “She had to have been fishing. There’s no way.”
Gavin puts his hand on her hip. “If they tried to trade you, the team would revolt.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I drop my chin, scrubbing my hand over my face. “I think she was trying to rattle me. She actually said as much at the end. It was like her technique to get me to say things I’ve never said before.”
“I don’t think I like Susan Jackson.” Haddy leans against her husband’s chair. “I’m putting her on the no list for PR.”
I think about everything we said, and I shake my head. “I don’t know. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
“It sounds to me like she was making you uncomfortable, and I don’t like that.” Haddy walks over to me, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m sorry.”
Reaching up, I give her a pat. “It’s okay, Hads. You didn’t know.”
“It’s my job to know. I’ll ask more questions next time.”
We go back to chatting about easier topics. The guys talk about how we dominated the Cliffs, until exhaustion overtakes us. Our schedule is hell right now.
They all drift back to their houses, leaving Dove and me alone, facing each other in the foyer. Things are pretty much cleaned up. Kelani’s in her crate in my room, and we have one of those now-rare moments when we’re both awake, somewhat sober, and here together.
“Hey.” I take a step closer, pulling her hand into mine.
Her chin lifts, and she blinks her pretty eyes up at me. “Hey, professor.”
I laugh, taking off the glasses. “I don’t really need these.”
“Still… they’re pretty cute.” She squints one eye at me, and I’m about to put them on again when Kelani bursts from my bedroom.
“Whoa…” I step back, surprised by her sudden appearance. “What’s up, girl?”
“She probably has to pee.” Dove starts for the kitchen, but Kelani races around the living room, stopping in front of the fireplace, tail wagging.
She has something black and lacy in her mouth, and I frown. “What is that?”
Dove takes a knee, calling her over. “Come here, Kee-kee, come… ew!”
She stands, stepping back and holding up her hands.
“Come here, girl.” I bend down to catch our puppy, taking the fabric and holding it up by one finger. “It’s a thong.”
I’m so confused. Dove by contrast is not confused. She seems pissed.
“Where did that come from?” Her blue eyes flash to mine. “It’s not mine.”
“I don’t know.” I stand, taking a step toward my bedroom.
Dove is right behind me, and we both look around the space. My duffel bag is just inside the door. It’s unzipped and looks suspiciously like a dog has been digging in it.
“What else did you do in your interview?” Dove crosses her arms, leaning back against the doorjamb.
“Not that.” I shake my head, holding up both hands. “I’m telling you, I have no idea where that came from or who…”
Shaking her head, she holds up both hands, walking out of my bedroom. “Whatever, Mav. I guess I’m leaving. If that’s how you want to deal with it—”
“No fucking way.” I dash after her, grabbing her around the waist and holding her against my chest. “I don’t know where the fuck that came from. It’s probably a prank. They probably confused my bag with Akers…”
“Put me down.” I do as she asks, but I’m not letting her go.
My hand is around her wrist, and I put my hand under her chin. “What are you thinking?”
Her lips tighten, and she crosses her arms. “I saw how Susan Jackson looked at you.”
“Susan Jackson is only interested in one Murphy, and it’s not me.” I rack my brains trying to remember what she said. “She grew up watching Dad play… Oh! She loves his blue eyes…”
Dove studies me a beat. Then with a quick inhale, she straightens. “It’s true. Your dad is pretty hot.”
“What?” My voice is loud, and I grab her again, tossing her small body easily over my shoulder.
She lets out a shrieking laugh, slapping my back with her palms. “Put me down right now, Maverick Murphy!”
“No way.” I carry her straight into my bedroom, dropping her onto her back on the mattress. “You’re going to take that back.”
She sits up quickly, cupping my face in both her hands as our mouths meet. Our lips slide together, and our tongues chase.
“I take it back,” she whispers, peppering kisses on my ear. “All I want is you.”
I smooth her hair back with both hands, looking deep into her eyes. “You got me.”