Chapter 2
Chapter Two
brEE
I know I’m impulsive. Always have been and clearly, still am. I mean, who loads up their car and a small U-Haul with everything they own—or will fit—and drives from Texas to Florida without having a plan?
Apparently, I do.
I’m not making excuses. Just pointing out that extenuating circumstances are at play here—ones I’d rather not think about at the moment.
Let’s just say I ran out of options, needed to get out of Cedar Park fast, and going home would have meant admitting defeat.
Not that I really have a home since my parents sold our ranch right after I started college, and now live in a small craftsman-style house in Austin. They don’t even have a dog.
When Wade texted me about a PR position with the Florida Sun Kings, I jumped on it. After months of agonizing over what I was going to do, the universe finally cut me some slack.
Not only did I have a new job, but I could leave behind the dumpster fire my life had turned into and start fresh.
Did it matter that I hadn’t thought things through, like where I would live? Not really.
As long as I stayed in Texas, my ex would constantly try to run my career or ruin it if I didn’t comply with his ever-growing list of demands in managing his social media presence.
How did I let a pretty face from my past manipulate me like that?
I know—because I believe in the innate goodness that exists in everyone.
I really do. But I guess my Spidey sense didn’t work when it came to Chase Langston.
I knew he and Wade were rivals when they were coming up through junior league together.
I attended Wade’s games back then and interacted with Chase occasionally.
He came across as a decent guy, and despite their intense rivalry on the ice, he and Wade acted like they were okay with each other once the skates came off.
So when our paths crossed again while I was doing PR for the Texas Stars, it seemed almost providential. As Nana Pierce often says, “Pay attention to the ones who cross your path more than once.”
Did I mention I think of Wade’s grandmother as mine? Or I should say, she always made me feel that way. She pretty much claimed me as one of her own the minute she found out I didn’t have grandparents. And that woman… She makes the best chocolate chip cookies on the planet.
But back to Chase—I really thought he was ‘The One’ in the beginning. Until it became clear he wasn’t. That he’d only used me and my PR skills to catch more attention from their affiliate team, the Dallas Stars. The NHL was always his end game, and I was simply a tool to get him there.
I lean against my old 4Runner—aka Big Blue—as the back of my neck heats from both the blinding Florida sun and the swirl of thoughts in my head. The cloudless azure sky almost matches her faded paint.
After checking if Wade replied to my last text, which he hasn’t, I tug the band off my wrist and pull my hair up into a messy bun. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should have called him before I left, or at least from the road.
And then, I see him—Wade—flying through the arena door. He jogs toward me, his expression stern at first, but when he sees me, that lopsided grin I know so well splits his face.
A flood of memories hits me as I launch off my car and take a step forward.
Racing our horses across open pastures to the old knurled oak at one end and then sitting in the shade of the branches to munch on the snacks we stole from the pantry and stowed in Wade’s tattered saddlebag.
Then we’d race home, the winner getting to watch the loser remove tack and groom the horses while they sipped iced tea and gobbled down one—or two—of Nana’s famous chocolate chip cookies.
Or the smell of her freshly baked bread, cooling on the kitchen counter. One loaf always wound up sliced and buttered while still warm, but she always had an extra, packaged and ready for me to take home to my parents.
Trampling through the woods with Piper and Ellie on a fairy tale mission to find the prince and save him from the evil dragon—Wade inevitably played both roles, alternating back and forth until all three of us girls toppled over in a fit of giggles.
And then, my favorite… lying on a blanket in the middle of his backyard, watching for shooting stars. Just Wade and me. That was our thing. We’d take turns making wishes, sharing dreams. His, of course, was to one day play professional hockey.
And mine? Secretly, I wanted to stay on my family’s ranch and turn it into a venue for weddings and family reunions.
I imagined families coming on the weekends to enjoy a petting zoo or apple picking, then visiting a small shop with homemade jams and jellies crafted from our orchards, along with other specialty items sourced locally.
A rush of emotion overwhelms me, making me acutely aware for the first time in months of how lost I’ve felt.
That’s what propels me forward into a jog toward the one person who always made me feel safe and protected.
By the time I launch myself at Wade, wrapping myself around him like a kitten clinging to a tree—the man’s as tall as one—tears I haven’t let myself shed since my life started to crumble stream down my cheeks.
His clean scent—a mix of soap and something spicy—fills my nose. The ends of his wet auburn hair tickle my forearm as I clutch him tighter, and his T-shirt feels damp, as if he pulled it on in a rush before he finished drying off from a shower.
I know I should let go, but I don’t want to. I’d forgotten how grounded Wade always made me feel, that everything would be okay, no matter what. And right now, I’m desperate for a dose of that—a ray of hope, a safe place to land.
Wade’s arms hold me like a vise, and his warm chuckle rumbles through me, shaking loose the lingering tension left over from driving for hours. “Wow, you’re that happy to see me?”
A wave of embarrassment surges through me. Wade knows nothing about what happened over the last year or why I stopped communicating. I want to tell him, but I can’t. What if he doesn’t understand? What if he thinks I’m stupid for being so gullible? Which I was. A complete idiot to be so trusting…
I let go of Wade and drop my feet so fast that I stumble back. He catches me, one hand on my back, the other around my upper arm. His hold on me is comforting, yet solid and uncompromising. For a moment, I allow myself to languish in this place. It’s been a long time since I felt safe—protected.
When I notice the mix of confusion and concern in his expression, I wipe my cheeks and force a laugh. “Just glad you’re not still sweaty from practice.”
Wade’s smirk returns, and a gleam of mischief sparks in his hazel-green eyes. Laughter trickles from behind him. That’s when I realize we’re not alone. Several guys, who I assume are his teammates, stand about twenty feet away, their expressions filled with curiosity.
I’m sure my face is redder than apples at harvest time, but it’s Florida. Maybe they’ll just think I’m sunburned. Or better yet, heatstroke. That would be a convenient explanation for my emotional reaction to seeing him, right?
Wade, ever the gentleman, takes my arm and tugs me closer to him as he faces his teammates. “Fellas, this is my best friend, Aubrey Sutton. She’s going to be our new PR specialist.”
Half a dozen sets of eyes stare at me with varying levels of curiosity as they express various welcomes and greetings.
I attempt a bubbly wave, which probably makes me appear like a flabbergasted teenager. “Hi, just call me Bree.”
One by one, the guys come forward and introduce themselves.
I’d pictured this scene with me dressed in my favorite flared pants with a bodysuit and oversized jacket to make my first impression.
Not a pair of tattered jean shorts, my old Lone Creek Coyotes T-shirt that I wore to every one of Wade’s junior league games, and my hair pulled up in a messy bun to hide how much I need to wash it.
But this is what I get for being impulsive, right?
Wade stares at me with a funny expression on his face.
Then it dawns on me that I’ve barged into his life with no warning and interrupted him in the middle of his workday. I forget that sometimes. That hockey isn’t just something Wade does for fun; it’s his job.
Moving closer to him, I lower my voice. “I’m sorry, I should have called sooner. Or just waited at your apartment until you got home.”
His eyes widen ever so slightly. “It’s okay. We’re done for the day. Perfect timing.”
I point at my old SUV and the small U-Haul that holds my entire life. Or rather, what’s left of it. “I can wait in Big Blue.”
Wade’s expression turns nostalgic when his gaze lights on my rundown vehicle. “Still running, huh?”
With a shrug, I hold out my hands. “If you don’t mind the occasional backfire and an AC system with commitment issues.”
He chuckles as he tips his head toward the arena. “You could come inside and look around.”
The other players watch us, their expressions remaining curious. He’s right. This place will become my new work home in a couple of days. Enough time to get settled and figure out my next steps. Also on my to-do list? Give Wade an explanation for my silence…and an apology.
“Sure. Give me the tour.” I flash him a smile I hope convinces him I have my act together.
But my best friend knows me, probably better than anyone. And judging by the look he’s giving me, he’s not buying it.