Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
PENELOPE
G unner’s arm drapes over my bare waist as his chest rises and falls in slumber. True to his word, we had some hot sex until we crashed with exhaustion. The man isn’t just a beast on the ice, and it doesn’t surprise me one bit. Someone who is as intense and broody as him is bound to be good in the sex department.
I never thought I’d spend the entirety of my birthday with Gunner Dreven inside me. But I have to say, as far as birthdays go, it was one of the more enjoyable ones, if not the most fun. This is all still so weird, but I’ve decided to cope by just not thinking about it. Compartmentalization at its finest. I know two Gunners—the asshole of the Cranes hockey team and the other one who only resides in Canada and I refer to as the orgasm king. It’s a little much but completely accurate. The guy is a master at knowing his way around my body.
Trying not to wake him, I reach for my phone on the nightstand. It’s nine o’clock in the morning, and all we’ve consumed in a twenty-four-hour period is two stale donuts each. However, we’ve exerted thousands of calories, and my body definitely needs some nourishment. My stomach aches, and I feel weak. The only way to continue enjoying the orgasm king is with some fuel in the form of calories. Maybe they have a vending machine nearby?
I move Gunner’s arm off me and start to sneak out of the bed. His grasp catches my arm before I succeed. “Where are you going?”
“I was going to look around this place for something to eat.”
“No. Stay. I need you. See, I’m using my words.” His voice is still heavy with slumber, and it’s mildly adorable. Admittedly, orgasm king is pretty damn sexy.
“You want a repeat of yesterday?” I ask.
“That is my plan, yes.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but if I don’t get some nourishment, I won’t have the energy for that.” Gunner's stomach rumbles as I finish my sentence, causing me to chuckle. “And you won’t either. Come on. Get up. You can go search for food with me.”
“Well, I’m going to need my shirt back for that.” He sits up, stretching his arms over his head as his back cracks.
I sigh and retrieve his shirt from the floor before tossing it to him. “Yeah, I figured. Which means I have to put my suit back on.” The thought of putting on my uncomfortable outfit yet again is depressing. Canada Penny is different too. She walks around naked without makeup and wears her lion’s mane of curls down. She’s lighter and even a little cheeky. I don’t recognize her, but I like her. The fact is, I’m going to miss her.
Yet Canada Penny wouldn’t fly in Michigan. I’ve spent years designing the life I wanted, being strong, being the opposite of my mother, building walls, and protecting myself. If I’m being honest, Canada Penny reminds me of my mother without the drinking, and that is scary. She’s cool here in the make-believe bubble that Gunner and I are in, but she’d never make it at home. Mainly because I wouldn’t allow it.
Once we’re dressed and ready, we head out. As is with motels, each door exists to the outside. There is no interior hallway. So I have to trudge through knee-high snow drifts in my bare legs and three-inch heels, a quite difficult feat.
I yelp when Gunner grabs my waist from behind, flips me around, and throws me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” I yell. “Put me down.”
“And watch you struggle to walk in that ridiculous outfit? No.”
Ass toward the sky, I stay strung over Gunner’s shoulder as we move toward the motel’s office. A bell chimes when he pushes the glass door open. He sets me down on the worn red carpet.
“You two surviving?” a familiar voice asks.
I turn to see Frank and Alice. “We’re trying,” I say. “Good morning. The bars not open today?”
Frank chuckles. “I couldn’t make it there if I tried. Roads aren’t fit for driving just yet, especially not out this way.”
I’m very aware of Gunner’s presence behind me. He doesn’t say anything, though, and lets me do the talking. “So there probably aren’t any restaurants open nearby?”
“No, there are not,” Alice says.
“Vending machines?” I say with hope in my voice.
“That was picked dry yesterday.” Frank looks back and forth between Gunner and me.
I look back at Gunner with a frown. It’s one thing to be stranded, but starving is another.
Alice waves us forward. “Don’t you fret, sweetie. We won’t let you go hungry. Follow me.”
“You have a kitchen here?” I ask as Gunner and I follow her around the check-in counter and through the door behind it.
“Yeah, in our home,” she says with a laugh.
It never dawned on me that they live here, but I guess it should have. Sure enough, beyond the office is an entire living space. We follow Alice through the living room and closed doors, which I assume lead to the bedrooms. A round of screams comes from one of the rooms, and I look at the closed door, startled.
“Don’t mind them.” Alice waves her hand. “Boys and their video games. It can get pretty intense. Our three have joined forces to fight,” she calls over her shoulder, “what is it, honey?”
Frank answers. “Aliens. They’re battling aliens. It’s a new multiplayer game they got for Christmas, and they’ve been obsessed with it since. So much so they get up early on a snow day just to play. I know we shouldn’t let them play video games for hours, but to be honest, it’s something they can all do together.”
“And get along while doing it!” Alice adds. “We asked them to play a game of Scrabble yesterday, but they weren’t having any of that.” She opens the refrigerator and starts pulling out ingredients. “How does pancakes, bacon, and eggs sound? I’m guessing the only thing you ate yesterday were those donuts?”
Gunner speaks up. “That all sounds great. Thank you.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Alice eyes me up and down. “You’ve been in that outfit and those heels for three days. We’d be happy to give you some more comfortable clothes.”
I shake my head. “That’s not necessary. I’m fine, really.”
Alice is half my size, and Frank is an average-sized man. Unlike Frank, I have hips and curves. There’s no way I’d fit in either of their clothes, and it would just be embarrassing to inform them of that. I carry my weight well and know what clothing items flatter my figure, so much so that I think people think I’m smaller than I am.
Back in college, I was talking to this boy who worked for a popular clothing store. To be nice, he used his discount to buy me a dress—a very non-stretchy dress in a size six. I was a size twelve, then. When I told him the dress was too small, he looked at me confused and asked if I was serious. He literally couldn’t believe the dress didn’t fit. What I didn’t tell him was that it was multiple sizes too small. I thanked him for the gesture but had him take it back. I still think about that embarrassment and avoid any situations that would put me in that place again. Maybe it’s part of the reason I don’t have any close girlfriends and never take Iris up on her offer to go shopping. The last thing I want to have to say is, “Sorry, this store doesn’t carry my size,” because most boutiques don’t carry a size eighteen. Most days, my size doesn’t faze me because I know I look good. Trying on clothes that might be too small is, however, a fear that I don’t want to face.
“You should change. You were just saying how uncomfortable you are,” Gunner murmurs—his words only intended for me.
“I’m fine!” I snap, a little too aggressively. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to change. Okay?”
He raises his hand in mock surrender and steps away from me.
Alice busies herself in the kitchen while Gunner, Frank, and I sit at the bar top that looks into the kitchen. “So I hear that you two are stuck here because Mr. Hockey Player punched someone,” she questions with a chuckle.
Gunner quirks a brow and turns to Frank. “Isn’t there some sort of bartender-client confidentiality you’re supposed to abide by?”
Alice cuts in before Frank can answer. “Oh, sweetie. This guy tells me everything. Every. Little. Thing. Honestly, it’s one of the perks of owning a bar—the best stories. The two of us never run out of things, or should I say people, to talk about.”
Frank holds out his hand toward his wife, palm up. “Let me reintroduce you to my wife, the town gossip.” He grins.
“He deserved it.” Gunner finally huffs out in reply.
I never did ask him why he hit the guy. I didn’t care at the time since I was just so mad. “Why did you hit him?”
He gives me a subtle shake of his head. “It’s not important.”
Alice flips a pancake on the griddle. “Well, I’m just glad we could help you out. I know it’s not the best accommodations, but at least it’s warm.”
“We were very lucky to be at Frank’s bar,” I state. “And the room is great. Beats the alternative, that’s for sure.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” She retrieves the syrup and butter from the fridge and places them on the bar before us.
A few moments later, a delicious-smelling breakfast is set before us, complete with fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, and the most delicious scrambled eggs I’ve ever tasted. It’s hard to tell whether they really are better than any eggs I’ve had in my lifetime or if I’m just that hungry. I give a half-assed attempt at eating with a little bit of decorum before I just start shoveling food into my mouth. I feel as if I haven’t eaten in days…and, well…that’s pretty much true.
Alice raises a brow as I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth. “The secret ingredient is heavy whipping cream. I whipped some eggs up with the cream when I started on my keto diet, and I’ve vowed it’s the only way I’ll make them from now on.”
Gunner takes a swig of orange juice. “Everything is wonderful. Thank you. Please let me know how much we owe you.”
Alice smiles as she places a plate into the dishwasher. “You don’t owe us a thing for this meal, sweetie. Consider us even for charging you to stay in what can only be described as our storage closet.” She chuckles.
Frank joins his wife in the kitchen, and the two work in tandem to clean up. I don’t miss their subtle touches and loving smiles toward one another; it’s sweet.
“How long have you two been together?” I ask.
“Basically our whole lives,” Alice says with a laugh. “Frank was my neighbor growing up, so we’ve known each other since the beginning, but we became official when we were fifteen and were married the week after I turned eighteen. My parents weren’t thrilled that we ran off and got married before we’d graduated secondary school, but we were just that in love.” She beams up at Frank. “Weren’t we, honey?”
“Sure were.” He leans in and kisses her on the forehead. “Going to be celebrating thirty years of wedded bliss next month.”
Their love and true fondness toward one another radiates from them, bringing a smile to my face and a pain to my chest. What must it be like to know a love like that? Maybe I did know a love like that. Was that what I would’ve had with Tucker had I not insisted on breaking it off after high school? The time I dated Tucker felt very much like true love, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever feel it again. Did I ruin my one shot at a lifetime of love? Images of my one and only love and his Target model girlfriend pop into my mind, and the pain in my chest grows.
Gunner nudges my arm. “Frank asked you a question,” he says under his breath.
I pull my thoughts from my lost love and refocus my attention on Frank and Alice. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked if your parents live in Michigan. That’s where your team is from, right?” Frank asks.
I nod. “Yeah, we’re from Michigan, but no, my parents are no longer there.” I leave it at that because the whole story seems like too much to get into.
Frank doesn’t question me further. “What about you?” he asks Gunner.
“Same,” Gunner states. The single word makes it clear the discussion is over.
I steal a glance at him and wonder if his parents are no longer alive, like mine, or if they’re just not in the picture. Chances are that question will go unanswered as Gunner’s demeanor makes it pretty clear that he won’t be in the mood to share anytime soon. It doesn’t matter anyway. Whatever relationship Gunner has with his parents is none of my business. Once we leave here, everything will go back to the way it was, and this version of ourselves will cease to exist.
But still…I can’t help my curiosity. Something in Gunner’s expression and the abruptness in which he answered makes me want to question further.
We finish eating, and Alice clears our plates. We thank her again. Admittedly, I feel like a new person after the meal—one who isn’t starving—and it’s a relief.
Alice waves me forward. “I wanted to show you something.”
I turn to Gunner, but he’s looking away with a blank stare. I don’t bother saying anything as it’s clear he won’t miss my absence. Alice leads us toward a room in the back of their place. It has shelves of plastic bins on one side of the room and hooks piled with coats on the other. There are cubbies filled with shoes and a door that leads outside.
She gives me a warm smile. “I know you said no, but I wanted to offer one more time.” She motions toward the bins and the labels affixed to the outside of them, which I now see are labeled with sizes. “I have about ten different sizes of clothes in these things. I’ve been a yo-yo dieter all my life, so I always keep all sizes of my clothing. However, I’ve maintained this weight for a few years now and have decided it’s time to donate this lot. So please feel free to take anything you want. As I said, it’s all going to be donated anyway. You just don’t look comfortable, my dear.”
“Oh, okay.” I stumble on my words, still processing what she’s saying.
She continues, “If I’m overstepping, I apologize. I just wanted you to know that we have options. As a woman who has been too many sizes to count, I know that clothing sizes can be an awkward subject.”
I take Alice in and can’t imagine her looking any other way than how she does now. And I do appreciate the thought behind this gesture. “Thank you, Alice. This is really sweet of you.”
With final instructions insisting that I take whatever I want, she shuts the door that separates this room from the rest of her home and leaves me with the bins of clothes. Grabbing the one labeled with my current size, I open the lid and pull out a few pairs of leggings, T-shirts, a warm-looking sweatshirt, and a zip-up hoodie. I hope that we’re not going to be here long enough for me to need all of these items, but I take them just in case.
Clothes slung over my arm, I exit the mud room to find Gunner standing with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, waiting for me. He’s evidently had enough socializing and is ready to return to the room.
I ignore the six-foot-five man and his heated stare. I’m thinking a change of pace is in order for today.
“Do you have any playing cards we can borrow?” I ask Alice.
“Sure, sweetie.” She hurries to the cupboard in the living area, opens the door, and retrieves a deck of cards. “You’re not going to like them, though,” she says, placing the deck in my hands.
I look down at the playing cards and smile. The deck has the blue orca in the shape of the letter C, the Vancouver Canucks logo. “Oh…Alice.” I shake my head. “You just made my job of convincing that one”—I nod toward Gunner—“to play card games with me a lot more difficult.”
She shrugs, her lips tilting into a wide smile. “What can I say? You’re in Canuck territory.”