Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
“What’s all this?” Georgia asked, stepping daintily over the bags of dirt that I’d hauled to the backyard but had yet to move from the pathway.
Today had been my first day off since returning from Anguilla a week ago, and I’d spent it in the garden.
“Sorry. I ran out of steam.” I was resting on top of a stack of them, still trying to get myself up and moving.
Bacon and Biscuit were lounging in the yard, acting as if they’d done all the hard work. They’d certainly run around a lot, chasing me every time I dragged in something new. Sniffing and investigating.
I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.
Perhaps I’d been a little overambitious.
There were raised-garden beds to be assembled, plants to be planted, string lights to be hung, new patio furniture to be arranged.
I couldn’t wait to see it when it was all done, even if it was going to take me a lot longer than I’d anticipated.
“You look cute,” I said to Georgia, admiring her cotton sundress and cork wedge sandals. She held a bottle of wine in one hand, reaching down to pet Biscuit when she wandered over.
“Girl, you need a wheelbarrow,” Logan said, crouching down to give Bacon a cuddle. Her shirt rose up, showing a sliver of her toned stomach and the Olympic rings tattoo that rested on her side.
“A wheelbarrow?” Georgia laughed, glancing around at the destruction that was my backyard. “What Bryn needs is a professional landscape architect.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, groaning when I stood. “Or maybe a massage.”
My massage in Anguilla last week seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then.
I brushed my hair away from my face, taking some dirt along with it. This project was a long time coming, and I was sick of looking out at a sad yard and even sadder flower beds.
“Let me rinse off and change,” I said, my muscles aching in protest. “There’s food in the kitchen. Help yourself.”
The dogs trotted inside, and the rest of us followed.
“Kylie’s coming, right?” Logan asked.
It was so good to see Logan. I was so happy that she’d found a great team and friends in Minnesota, but I missed her.
Fortunately, she had a photo shoot in LA, so she was visiting for a few days.
I’d offered to let her stay with me, but the brand had put her up in the Huxley Grand LA.
While I didn’t blame her for wanting to stay at a luxury hotel, I suspected Logan was hooking up with someone who lived in LA, though she wouldn’t tell us who it was.
“Yeah. I think she’s just running a little late. She got caught up dealing with a client emergency.”
Logan cringed, and I laughed. We both knew that in Kylie’s world, a client “emergency” could mean anything from a comment being taken out of context to a sex tape.
I ran through the shower and debated putting on something cute, but this was a casual girls’ night in. Besides, I was tired after working all week. So, I settled on some comfy cotton shorts and a matching top.
When I returned to the kitchen, it was to the sound of hushed whispers that stopped abruptly. Georgia smiled brightly when she saw me, and I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Wine?” She offered me a glass.
“Thanks,” I said, eyeing her suspiciously as I accepted it from her.
There was a knock at the back door, and I went over to answer it when I saw Kylie standing there. “Sorry about the mess.” I hugged her.
“Looks like you’ve taken on quite the project.”
I linked my arm with hers. “That’s an understatement. Come on, Logan and Georgia are here. We just opened a bottle of wine, and you look like you could use a glass.”
She laughed, though the sound was bitter. “Another understatement.”
“That bad?” I asked.
She huffed. “You have no idea. Please promise me that you’ll always come to me first with anything that might affect your brand.”
My brand. I wanted to scoff, but I knew she was right. My brand was “Derek’s wife.” “Widow to a famous hockey player who died tragically.” And her comment made me feel even worse for waiting to tell her about Frasier and me.
We joined the others in the kitchen, and a generous glass of wine was soon offered to Kylie.
“To…” Georgia lifted her glass, looking from me to Logan to Kylie.
“Making messes,” I offered.
Logan laughed, and she and Georgia repeated the toast, while Kylie said, “And cleaning them up.” And then we all clinked our glasses together before taking a sip.
The flavors settled on my tongue, buttery and rich and yet fruity somehow too. It tasted like apricots. “Oh. That’s good,” I said, admiring the color of the wine and the way it coated the glass when I swirled it. “Did you get that on your trip?” I picked up the bottle, inspecting the label.
Georgia nodded. “There’s a great little winery there that’s owned by a former LA Leatherbacks player, Lorenzo Mancini.”
“I’ve been wanting to go to the Alondra Valley,” I said. “I hear they have the cutest bookstore, Bibliolater. They host an annual Meghan Hart celebration day.”
“It definitely sounds right up your alley.” Georgia grinned. “I assume you’re going to read her upcoming release with Penelope Glass.”
“I—” I bit my lip and glanced away. “I sort of already did.”
“What?” Her eyes bulged. “How? It’s not even out yet.”
“Yeah,” Kylie chimed in, leaning her hip against the counter. “How did you manage that? I tried to get a few copies for some of my clients for promo purposes without success.”
I toed the floor with my slides. “It was a gift.”
“From whom?” Kylie leaned forward, clearly intrigued.
Georgia’s wineglass scarcely concealed her knowing grin. “I have a pretty good idea who.”
Kylie and Logan turned to her, then the three of them turned to me. “Frasier might have given me an advance copy.”
“Shut. Up.” Kylie stared at me as if to assess whether I was telling the truth. When I laughed nervously, she said, “Oh my god. You’re serious.”
“Yep.” I went to get it from my room, where it had pride of place on my nightstand even though I’d already finished reading it.
Kylie’s eyes widened when I returned with the book in hand. “Holy shit.” I handed it to her, and she opened the inside and paused when she came to the inscription. “And they signed it too? And wrote a personalized note?”
I nodded. On the flight home, I’d learned that Frasier had asked his agent to give Meghan Hart and Penelope Glass a handwritten letter telling them why the book was so important to me.
Apparently, they’d been touched by the story and excited about the signed jersey he’d offered in return.
He’d specifically asked them to write what they had. It made it even more special.
“I’d ask to borrow this,” Kylie said, watching my expression. “But I’m guessing you’d say no.”
“I thought you preordered a copy,” I said, reluctant to part with it. Any other book—signed or not—sure. A book was meant to be read and enjoyed. But this one was special.
“I did.” She sighed. “It should be here any day now. But we’re getting off topic.” She arched one eyebrow. “What’s up with you and Frasier?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised Frasier isn’t helping with your latest project.” Georgia glanced around as if waiting for him to appear.
I laughed. “Way to be subtle, G. And no, Frasier’s not here.”
We’d been inseparable since the trip to Anguilla, and now it felt strange to be without him. Part of me was scared by how quickly I’d become attached to him. And the other part couldn’t wait to see him again.
He’d spent every night here for the past week, but he’d gone home early this morning to catch up on laundry and check in on the situation with his brother.
Plus, he knew I was hanging out with the girls tonight, so he planned to come over tomorrow.
Since it was only for one night, we’d figured Bacon and Biscuit would be more comfortable here.
And I was more than happy to keep them with me.
“Can you blame me for asking?” Georgia lifted a shoulder. “He practically lives here.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpanned. It wasn’t the first time our friends had said something to that effect, but it definitely hit different this time.
Frasier didn’t live here, but would he want to?
If we kept dating, would he want to move in together?
And would he want to live here or at his place or somewhere else entirely?
Would I be okay sharing the home Derek and I had made with another man?
Conversely, would I be okay selling it and letting it go?
Whoa. I shook my head as if to clear it. I was getting ahead of myself.
“You guys do share two dogs.” Logan popped a piece of prosciutto into her mouth.
I couldn’t argue with that. so instead, I carried the charcuterie board into the living room. Everyone grabbed something as the dogs followed us. Logan sank to the floor, and Bacon immediately climbed into her lap. Georgia sat on the couch, and Kylie and I joined her.
I imagined what it would be like to enjoy the charcuterie in my garden.
I wanted to get a large retractable screen and a projector.
I envisioned lounging out there on a quilt, watching movies or even hockey games.
The preseason was starting soon, and it seemed overly optimistic to think I could have it done in time.
But maybe I could finish before the season kicked off.
“Okay, So...” Georgia leaned in. “I’ve been dying to hear all about what happened at your sister’s wedding. You told me we had a lot to catch up on, and I could—and have—read a million possibilities into that after the whole ‘only one bed’ in a romantic bungalow situation.”
“She definitely has,” Logan muttered darkly. “Trust me.”
“Wait.” Kylie furrowed her brow. “I knew Frasier was going with you to the wedding as your plus-one, but…did something happen between the two of you?”
“Are you asking as my publicist or my friend?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Both.”
Either way, she needed to know, and I wanted to tell her. So I explained how Frasier had gotten roped into being my fake date.