6. You’re holding out for Ms. Right?
Chapter 6
You’re holding out for Ms. Right?
Phin
There was something about the dark space, lit only by the fireplace. The absolute quiet inside the building, with no fridge or heating running in the background, and the noise of the storm outside, gave us the illusion of being the only two people in the world.
I was blaming that for why I’d shared so much of my truth with this girl—woman—who I hadn’t seen for years. She knew who I was now, but she also knew a part of me most people didn’t. The kid who’d been hockey mad but also just a regular kid. I didn’t have to worry about my image and representing the team because she knew the worst about me. She didn’t like me. Possibly used my face as a dart board. No need to pretend with her.
But I was done spilling my guts. There were no distractions here beyond the fire, so it was time to turn the attention to her.
“Tell me how your family is doing. The stuff I’d know if I hadn’t disappeared on you.”
“Okay, but I’m getting closer to the fire.”
It was definitely warmer than outside, but it was still chilly. “The space is so open it’s trying to heat up everything. I’ll check that the doors to the bedrooms and bathrooms are closed at least.”
By the time I’d made sure everything was closed off that could be, Skye had moved her couch cushions to the floor in front of the fireplace along with some of the blankets and pillows I’d brought down. While she arranged her nest, the firelight displayed her silhouette, all grown up now. It was a shame to cover it up with that bulky coat.
She had the same straight nose that all three of the Duvall siblings shared. Fair skin, which used to freckle in the summer. I’d never noticed her mouth before, but now I couldn’t pull my gaze away from her lips as she licked them. Something stirred, attraction, but I reminded myself that she didn’t like me, she was trapped here with me, and she’d probably remove my balls if I tried anything.
I grabbed my own cushions and threw them down on the floor beside her. Then I pulled some water out of the cooler and passed a bottle to her.
“Thanks.”
“That’s all we can do for heat—anything with a door is shut off and the fireplace is on high. Sorry.”
She cocked her head. “Your stepmother really didn’t set up a genny?”
“If she did, it’s stored outside, so trying to find it right now…?”
“Yeah, not a good idea.”
“Then tell me what’s going on here in Newfell.”
She frowned. “Not much. Dad died five years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” My breath caught. I shouldn’t be learning this out five years later. I had been an asshole.
“It was quick. They found cancer, and he was gone in two months. Could have been a lot worse.”
I nodded my agreement.
“He left the garage to the three of us. The finances weren’t in good shape, after paying for so many lawyers, but we’re turning it around.”
I flopped on my back, arm over my eyes. “The lawyers to fight Lina?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t sound as angry now, so I pulled my arm away and checked her expression. “I’m really sorry about that.”
“You already said. I appreciate it, but we have to live with the hand we’re dealt.”
I pushed up on my elbows. She sat with her arms around her knees, staring at the fire. I watched the shadows flickering over her face, eyes drawn to her mouth again. “How bad is it?”
She just shrugged. Why would she tell me? It was thanks to me and my family that they were in this situation.
Time for a subject change. “So, Oscar. He’s working in the garage?”
She nodded her head, chin on her knees. “Both of them are mechanics. And there’s the pumps, and store, so that keeps us all busy. Riley is married and has a son. Rowan. A holy terror, but so adorable you can’t be mad at him.”
“Riley is a dad? Wow.”
“His wife Christine is awesome. She doesn’t let anyone get away with anything, but she has your back when you’re family, you know?”
No, I didn’t know. But it sounded nice.
“Oscar isn’t married?” Oscar was a year older than me, Riley two years. Sure, I had teammates around my age who’d married and had children, but they were married when I met them. Riley and Oscar were still kids in my head, like I was.
“He says he’s happy to be single. We share the apartment over the garage, and I’m not sure what we’d do if he found someone.”
“And you?”
Her gaze swung to meet mine. “Not a huge dating pool up here, you know? And I work a lot, so…”
I was surprised. I hadn’t seen Skye in full daylight, but by firelight she was beautiful. I knew her eyes were blue. Her brown hair was falling out of a ponytail, and her lips were soft and kissable. I had to remind myself again that I might be successful in hockey, but she wasn’t interested in me.
Beyond that surface stuff, she was good people. She had been as a kid, considerate of even spiders, honest and trustworthy. She had a temper, and her tongue could be sharp but not mean.
Even with the reasons she’d had to hate me and my family, she’d helped me when she’d found me at the side of the road. Okay, that was a low bar, but she hadn’t yelled or sworn at me. She hadn’t told me what Lina had done and hit me up for payback.
I was going to do that, somehow, since money was one thing I had, but I’d wait to work that out. Right now, I’d just ignore the money issue and how attractive I found her and get through this night. Hopefully without further harming my shoulder or my reputation in Newfell. “For me, the dating pool is big, but then it’s hard to find who you’re looking for when there’s so many people.” There I went, spilling my thoughts to her.
Her lips pulled up in a grin. “Are you saying you’re holding out for Ms. Right?” She paused. “Or Mr. Right.”
I shook my head. Not everyone in the NHL was straight, but I was. “Ms. for me. And I’m not holding out, it’s just…” Her gaze was intent on mine, and my stupid mouth kept going. “I hook up. And I’ve tried dating. It just hasn’t worked out.”
“Are you assuming it’s a them problem, not a you problem?”
My jaw dropped. “Is there something wrong with me? What?” Shit . I hadn’t considered that, but if Skye noticed something no one had told me about…
A smile twitched at her lips again.
“Are you making fun of me?”
She grinned. “Kind of? People do tend to think that the problem is always someone else, not themselves.”
Truth bomb there. “You’re right.” Maybe I was the problem?
“But I haven’t seen any red flags in these…what, two, three hours?”
I flopped back on my couch cushions. “Thanks, I think?”
Skye stretched out on the cushions beside me. “Actually, your response to what I said is a point in your favor. You were willing to consider it was you.”
“Have you tested yourself like that?”
She rolled onto her back. “Yeah, I’m a problem.”
“What?”
She sighed. “I don’t know what I want, so how do I find a person who wants to wait while I figure things out?”
She stared into the darkness above us. I watched the flames flickering over her face as her thoughts turned inward.
Was that my problem? Did I know what I wanted?
“You’re a lot different than the women I’ve dated.”
She snorted. “Thanks.”
“No, it’s a good thing.”
She rolled over to face me again, eyes narrowed. “Are you going to feed me some bullshit about how I’m beautiful on the inside and don’t focus on superficial external stuff?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
“One of the summer people said that to me. He was trying to politely say I didn’t meet his usual standards but he’d do me since he didn’t have a lot of options up here.”
My hand formed a fist involuntarily. “What an asshole. I hope you told him what to do with his superficial standards.”
“I did. But aren’t you saying the same thing?”
She was watching me closely, and I had the unsettling feeling that she’d see if I tried to bullshit her. “I’ve gone out with some attractive women—don’t roll your eyes! I’ve got a point here. But there are a lot of ways to be beautiful. You’re beautiful too, on the outside, even if that asshole said you weren’t. But he’s right that you’re not like most of the women I meet.”
“I know. I’m operating a tow truck. I live over a garage with my brother. I have to keep my nails short. I don’t wear dresses and heels.”
Asshole and perhaps some of his think-alikes had dented her confidence.
I met her gaze so she could see the truth in my words. “The difference is I’ve spilled my guts to you. I trust you. We’ve talked about more serious things than I have with…anyone.”
Sadly true. I couldn’t talk to my family, and I hadn’t gotten close enough to teammates to share. It wasn’t like I had a horrible past. I’d lost my mother when I was young, but for years Dad and Quin had been enough. I couldn’t even cast Lina as the evil stepmother. She was selfish, spoiled, and had tunnel vision when it came to anything outside of her and Dad, and maybe Quin. But by the time Dad married her I had my own tunnel vision with hockey, so I couldn’t complain about that. She wanted to make me happy. It was just that for her, money was happiness.
Poor Phin . Got a stepmother who gave me a trust fund and had this monstrosity currently sheltering us built because she thought it was what I wanted.
Skye was staring at me, lips twisted in thought. “We were kids together. And we’re stuck here with nothing else to do but talk.”
I wanted to tell her it was more than that. I spent hours on planes traveling with my teammates, hung out with them at practices and games and team events. I was close to my linemates. But I didn’t talk to them like I did with Skye.
I liked her honesty. Her forthrightness. And I found her attractive. If she was someone else, someone I’d met in Toronto, I would ask her out, see if there was something there.
But she was stuck here, helping her family in the garage that was in financial trouble because of my stepmother. I could imagine how she would respond to an offer of money. Maybe her brothers were different, but I doubted it. I had cut them off along with everyone else when I was a teen.
I didn’t think this evening would have gone the same if Oscar or Riley had been the ones to tow me out of the ditch. Once the initial awkwardness and apologies were over, we’d have joked, probably talked hockey. Not spilled my guts. Telling her that, even if she believed me, would make things awkward.
So instead I flipped the conversation.
“You said you didn’t know what you wanted. That means working in the garage isn’t it?”