12. I’m not giving you any more potatoes
Chapter 12
I’m not giving you any more potatoes
Skye
“Merry Christmas,” I managed to respond, swallowing my drool. Sure, I’d seen the guy partly naked yesterday, but coming out to the kitchen half awake, finding those muscles on display, shiny with sweat? Phin had given me a Christmas present that was better without wrapping.
I managed to make a full pot of coffee without spilling anything, a minor miracle, and then Oscar stumbled out, drawn by the smell.
“Merry Christmas!” Phin greeted him, adding milk to a mug I’d given him.
Oscar grunted. Neither of us were big morning people.
“What’s up for the day?” Phin took a sip of his coffee. “Or maybe I should shower and let you guys wake up first?”
Oscar nodded, and I watched Phin walk away to the bathroom.
“Eyes back in your head, sis,” Oscar teased.
“You can’t blame me for looking.”
He nudged me with his elbow. “I think he likes you too.”
“Phht,” I responded.
He shrugged. “I’ve got eyes, and his were on you last night. A lot.”
I wouldn’t read too much into that. He was attracted to me, yes, because there was no denying what happened in the cottage yesterday. And if the utility crew and my brothers hadn’t shown up when they did, something would have happened. The way I felt? I wasn’t going to hit the brakes.
That wasn’t the same as liking. Liking involved more than bodies and pheromones and chemistry. I didn’t need to crush on a guy who was leaving anytime now. Once we figured out his transportation.
Phin came back while we were settled in the living room with our second cups of coffee. His hair was wet and the smell of some expensive product wafted under my nose, much too appealing. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously expensive, making me self-conscious about my own ratty pj’s. I was vain enough to wish I had something sexy to wear, but this place wasn’t that warm in winter, and what was the point?
“Is there more coffee?”
I nodded, since I’d started a second pot.
He headed to the kitchen, separated from the small living room by a counter. “I don’t want to impose any more on you. I can get myself back to Toronto, but I was hoping I could talk to you first.”
Oscar and I looked at each other.
“We do a big Christmas lunch at Riley and Christine’s place. Other than that, no hard-set plans. What did you want to talk about?” Oscar raised his brows.
“Could we talk with Riley as well?”
I felt my eyebrows climbing up to my hairline. “What about?”
Oscar interrupted with “I’ll ask Chris,” and started to text on his phone.
“Aren’t you in a rush to get back?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’d planned to stay till tomorrow.”
Oscar looked up from his phone. “Chris invited you to Christmas dinner with us. Interested?”
A big grin lit up his face. “I’d love it.”
This was a bad idea. I was too focused on Phin, and it would be better to have him gone sooner rather than later. But since that wasn’t an option, I did what I could. “I’ll shower now, then go over to help. You guys can come later.”
Oscar opened his mouth to speak but a glare stopped him. He shrugged, and I fled with my coffee.
“So what’s he like?” Christine asked as I peeled potatoes.
I felt my cheeks getting warm. “Phin? Didn’t Riley tell you? He spent more time with him when we were kids.”
She nudged me with her elbow. “Yeah, but you spent a lot of time with him these past couple of days.”
I set down the peeler and potato. “He seemed genuine, sorry about what happened with the cottage and when he disappeared on us.” I turned away to chop the potato into quarters and drop it in the pot.
“And good-looking?”
“That’s it for potatoes?”
“I’m not giving you any more potatoes until you answer.”
I sighed. “Yes, he’s good-looking. Super fit. And he’s heading back to Toronto, so there’s no future with him.”
Christine watched me for a minute, then shrugged. “That explains the clothes. But we don’t want to lose you, so if he’s not staying, I won’t play matchmaker.”
If I’d hoped that my choice of a skirt and my nicest sweater would go unnoticed, I was wrong. “Ugh! Please don’t. I’m not in his league.”
“Don’t undersell yourself, Skye. You’ve got a lot to offer.”
Yet somehow no one had been interested in what that was. “Okay, what’s next?”
This time Christine let the topic of Phin go.
I wasn’t sure Phin would fit in at this family meal. The Collins family had been normal people, back when we’d hung out at the cottage, but now he was used to expensive and fancy affairs thrown by his stepmother, or charity events with the team, or who knew what else. We were small-town people, and we didn’t have money. Plus, we’d all been pretty pissed with him before—what, the last two days? At least Oscar had taken down the Phin dart board in the garage.
But just like when we were snowed in at the cottage, there was no issue. Rowan zooming in to grab his legs in a big hug as soon as he walked in the door had Phin’s eyes widening, like he wasn’t sure what was going on, but Riley picked Rowan up and Phin relaxed.
“That’s the kid who, um, augmented the Christmas pageant?”
I grinned. “Yep. If you don’t want him bothering you, just let Riley and Christine know and they’ll keep him away.”
“No, I think I see hockey potential in that kid. A future Oppy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do not tell Riley that. I happen to know there are some hockey skates for Rowan wrapped up under the tree.” But inside, well, having a nephew playing on the top line of the Blaze would not be terrible.
Christine and Riley always served an excellent if ordinary dinner for the holidays. My brother had a propane deep fryer outside for a second turkey, and Christine did a traditional roasted one inside so we could have gravy and stuffing. The competition over their cooking methods was friendly, and just like Oscar and me, Phin refused to declare one better than the other.
Phin fit in like he had before the cottage fiasco. He wasn’t fazed by having to make do with canned cranberries after Rowan used the homemade ones to decorate the tree while the adults were in the kitchen. He helped clean up the dripping tree ornaments and didn’t complain about the red stains on his expensive clothing. At the table, we made jokes and told stories, and my stomach hurt from laughing as much as from overeating.
“So how the hell did you end up with the same nickname in hockey that we gave you?” Riley asked.
Phin rolled his eyes. “Really? You think you’re the only people who heard Phin Collins and thought of Phil Collins? Drummer, drums, Bongo.”
Oscar shrugged. “I thought you liked the nickname so much you asked the team to call you that.”
Phin leaned forward. “Is that so, Grouch?”
Oscar growled. “I didn’t ask to be named after a Muppet.”
“I’d trade it for Phin and Quin. Like, what was my mother on?”
Oscar and Phin insisted on doing dishes while Christine took Rowan up for a nap he claimed he didn’t need, and Riley went out to take care of the deep fryer.
I cleared the table and put things away once the boys had them clean. I paused for a moment. The boys , like Phin was one of us. Like he belonged to us. I looked at him and caught him staring at me.
My cheeks heated and I quickly returned to the dining room. This wasn’t good. Phin needed to get back to where he belonged before I caught feelings.
It might be too late.
We gathered in the living room after the place was cleaned up and Rowan was, finally, sound asleep with his new skates. (Skate guards on till he fell asleep and then his mom moved them out of his arms.)
“Can I talk to all of you, seriously?” Phin asked.
Christine started to stand. “I can leave?—”
“You should hear this too,” Phin said.
Christine settled back down with Riley’s arm over her shoulder, and we all turned our attention to Phin.
“So, again, I’m sorry for what happened to your cottage. It started from my thoughtless words.”
Riley shrugged. “Water under the bridge. What your stepmother did is on her. I was just pissed we never heard from you again.”
Phin looked down. “I didn’t deal well with Dad’s remarriage, and I hurt a few people. I totally focused on hockey, which isn’t a good excuse. I’m really sorry.”
Oscar reached over and slapped his shoulder. “You going to ghost us now?”
Phin ran his hand down his thigh. A tell? I didn’t watch that longer than was reasonable. Nope .
“I won’t be able to, if I convince”—for a moment, I thought the next word was going to be Skye and that there was something happening between us—“you to go into business with me.”
Something inside me tumbled to land on the excessive turkey in my stomach.
“Business?” Riley asked.
Phin nodded. “I want to invest in your garage.”
For a long moment no one said anything. Riley looked at Christine, and Oscar mouthed What the hell? at me. I shrugged, because I didn’t know anything about this.
“Phin, you don’t owe us anything,” Riley said.
“That’s debatable. But while that might have inspired my idea, it’s not the whole thing.”
Oscar looked at me before asking, “So what’s this about?”
Phin rubbed his thigh again. “I’ve been…a little lost. I love hockey and hope to play for years yet, but in the summers I’m at loose ends. Mostly trying to avoid my stepmother and whatever she’s planned.” He shifted in his seat. “The team had a few days off for Christmas, my shoulder was sore, and I wanted to come up here. When I needed a place to hide out, this was where I thought of.”
“And then you landed in the ditch.”
“Yeah. And ran into a Duvall, and spent time here. And I realized this is where I’ve been the happiest. Even after Mom died, coming up, hanging out with you—outside of hockey, those are my best memories. I want to put down roots here. And when I’m done with hockey, this is where I’ll live.”
“Really?” Oscar asked. I shared his surprise.
“Really. I don’t want to just be one of the summer people. I want to belong. I’m going to look for a place, something on the water where I can come in the summers, and retire eventually. I thought building up the business with you would be the first step.”
Christine leaned forward. “You sure about this? Not to rain on your parade, but the garage is struggling. And we’re down to one tow truck.”
Phin leaned forward too. “I like a challenge. We can use my reputation as a hockey player in our advertising. That would give the garage a chance to increase business with hockey fans.”
“Definitely,” Oscar agreed. I could tell by the way his eyes were glinting that he was on board with this idea.
We’d talked about what we could do if we had some money—fix the place up, a new truck, some advertising—but we didn’t think the bank would give us a loan, and weren’t sure we could pay it off if they did while expanding the business.
Phin kept going, obviously having given this a lot of thought. “I can get my lawyer started on drawing up an agreement when I’m back in Toronto. Not till the new year, but I was thinking a quarter million, for maybe a quarter of the business? Or would a half million be better?”
My jaw dropped. Our wildest dream for a loan had been a hundred thousand dollars. With the money Phin was talking about…
“How much say do you want in the business?” Riley asked. Good to have someone to bring us back to earth.
“I would only be a silent investor for now. In two days, when hockey starts up again, I’ll be busy and traveling. I can try to answer emails, but I’m not free. Once the season is over, I’d like to have a chance to learn what it’s like. I’m no mechanic, but I could learn to tow, maybe, do some promo stuff? Walk around being friendly with Duvall gear on?”
“You wouldn’t want to change the name? Have control?”
“If I’m looking for my name somewhere, people buy my jerseys. So no, that’s not important to me. I assume there’s three or four shareholders? I’d be just one more vote.”
“This sounds great—for us. But how can you be getting enough out of this?”
Phin leaned back. “I like working with a team. But it’s not always easy to know who you can trust outside of hockey, when it’s the real world and money is involved. I trust you. I knew you when you were kids, and I don’t see that you’ve changed that much.”
“You don’t know me,” Christine said.
“Riley chose you. And his siblings like you. I’m okay with that.”
“And if things go wrong?” Riley asked.
“Not to brag, but I can afford to lose this. I don’t think I will, but I’ve considered that. And if I’ve helped you, this will bring me a lot of goodwill in the community if I then try something else. I’m not kidding about settling here.”
“You really want to do this. Like, you’ve considered it.” Christine expressed the skepticism we all felt.
“I have. When something is right, you just know. My instincts have gotten me where I am on the ice, and I trust them here.”
“We should talk about it…” I suggested.
“I’m in,” Oscar said. “What have we got to lose?”
“I’m in, in theory. We’ll have to have our lawyer check the paperwork,” Riley warned.
“Absolutely,” Phin said.
Christine looked at me before agreeing with Riley.
“Um…” Everyone stared at me, wondering why I hesitated. Well, because I’d hoped he had interest in more than our business, but I wasn’t telling them that.
“Skye, why don’t we have a talk about it,” Phin said, pushing to his feet.
“You should do that,” Christine said, glaring at my brothers when they looked like they might comment.
I shrugged but stood and followed Phin to the front hall. “Let’s talk while we walk.”
“Sure.”
We walked down the porch steps in silence and turned right, past houses lit up with Christmas lights that could barely be seen in the afternoon light. The sky was a bright blue, our breaths showing in the cold air. An occasional neighbor looked out their window, but most of the homes were busy with their holiday celebrations.
Phin broke the silence. “I meant what I said about trusting my instincts. I’d like to be involved with your family. But I also want to be involved with you.”
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, heart leaping in my chest. Had he said…?
He grinned, but the smile faded away. “Maybe you don’t want that, and I won’t let it affect the business stuff. But come summer, I’m going to give it my best shot to convince you to go out with me.”
“You want to go out with me.” My voice came out flat, because I’d pushed my brain onto the it’s business not personal track and now thoughts were flying scattered through my head.
He bit his lip. “Do I have a chance?”