Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
PENNY
M y calendar obsession is no joke. I seriously don’t know how I’d live without them. I scan the one on the screen in front of me and it’s color-coded perfection. My life and the entirety of the Crane Organization are planned down to the minute in stunning, organized detail. This calendar syncs with my phone, and just because I’m a little crazy, I write it all down in my paper day planner that is stored in my purse. Digital calendars have their place, for sure. However, nothing is more satisfying than crossing off to-do list items on paper.
There’s a knock on my office door. “Come in.”
The team doctor and our starting forward’s wife, Elena, walks into the room. I like Elena. She’s a strong woman with a lot of integrity. Unlike my relationship with Iris, the one I have with Elena has always been professional. We haven’t crossed into an out-of-work friendship. Much like me, Elena focuses on work when she’s here and leaves when she’s done. She’s not the Chatty Cathy that her sister-in-law Iris is, and I respect that. In fact, the sole reason Iris and I are as close as we are has everything to do with her and nothing to do with me.
“Hi, Penelope. I know there is a fan meet and greet after the game tonight, and I was wondering if I could hold Mr. Lewis back. His hamstring has been a little sore, and I want to make sure he gets in his stretching to keep him in top shape with the playoffs next month. Can’t risk any injuries,” she says.
“Oh, absolutely. No problem. I didn’t advertise which players would be there so we could use who was available. With these guys, you never know. So Jaden is all yours.”
“Great. Thanks so much.”
“How are you feeling?”
She puts her hand on her very large belly. “Tired.” She gives a half chuckle, half sigh. “Pregnant at forty is not for the weak. I just hope the little one holds out until his or her daddy is done for the season.”
Taking her in now, I find it hard to believe she still has two months of pregnancy left. She looks like she could pop at any moment. “It’s going to be close. I really think the guys have a shot of getting to the cup finals this year.”
“I know.” She nods. “And I truly hope they do. It’s going to be interesting. I just don’t want Beckett to miss the birth if he’s away at a road game. I won’t be able to travel with him toward the end.”
“Yeah, that’s tough. Well, hopefully, it all works out.”
She smiles. “Yes. I’m hoping so. Anyway, thanks again.”
“No problem.”
Elena exits my office as a notification for a new email pops up. It’s a project request for our charity Cranes Cares. My calendar is booked for the afternoon, but I make myself a note to look into the submission tomorrow.
“Hey!” Iris singsongs, closing the door to my office behind her.
I raise a brow, knowing that ‘hey’ is not work-related. “Yes?”
“Just checking in.” She clasps her hands in front of her and takes a seat in the chair facing my desk.
“On?”
“Just life.” She shrugs.
“The meet and greet all set?”
She bobs her head. “Yep, my to-do list is done. All the i’s and t’s are crossed. So I thought I’d touch base with my friend Penny. I saw you and Gunner arrive together this morning. Things are getting serious?”
“It’s more efficient. Doesn’t make sense to drive two cars.” My response is met with an expectant stare that makes me grin. I roll my eyes and huff out a laugh. “What do you want to know?”
She leans forward and grasps the arms of the chair. “Uh, everything. I’ve barely seen or spoken to you since this new development in your love life. You can’t leave your bestie hanging like that.”
“I already told you… we’re dating.”
She pouts her lips and shoots me a glare. “Duh. I need details.”
“Like?”
“You are so bad at this.” She tosses her head back in a laugh. “How’s it going? What do you guys do every night? Is he different with you, or does he only communicate in grunts?”
I smile. “He’s different. I mean, he’s not talking my ear off or anything, but we talk. We hang out, watch TV, order dinner, have sex, and go to bed.”
“And the sex is good?”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah. It’s pretty damn good.”
“Like how good?”
“The best I’ve had.”
She slaps her hand on my desk. “I knew it. You two are endgame.”
My brows furrow. “Stop. It’s way too soon to know that.”
“Nuh-uh. It’s not. I can tell. It was the same with Cade and me. Once we got together, we had this explosive chemistry. That only happens, to that degree, with your person. It makes sense. When you stop to think about it, you two are really alike.”
“True. We are, and that kind of scares me. I thought the relationships that work are between people who are different, the whole opposites attract saying… like Beckett and Elena.”
“There is no tried-and-tested rule. It just depends on the people. I don’t know…I get this feeling that you and Gunner are made for each other.”
“Well, it’s a little soon for all that anyway.”
She shrugs. “Eh, when you know, you know. You know?”
I chuckle. “I don’t know, and neither do you. Are you sure you don’t have any work to do?” I reach for my day planner.
Iris bolts up from the chair and holds out her hands, palms toward me. “I’ll find something. No need to rifle through that thing.”
“For a lawyer, you’re quite gabby. You know?”
“Have you ever met a lawyer? We’re all gabby. We literally talk for a living. And…was. I was a lawyer. Now, I plan parties, hang out with you, and watch my hubby play hockey. This life is totally me.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re happy.”
She completes a half twirl and reaches for my office door. “And I’m glad you’re happy. I can’t wait to hear more. You need to practice your gossip delivery. It’s a little bland.”
I tear my gaze away from my computer and direct it to Iris. “I’ll work on it.”
“That’s all I ask.” She shrugs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to steal my hubby away before he dresses for the game and sneak in a little closet make-out session or something.” She winks. “You know? You should try it.”
“Go away. We don’t do that.”
“That’s not what I heard,” she teases before hurrying out of my office.
The Crane boys pulled out a three-to-one win against Toronto. It was a fun game to watch. I sat next to Iris and her family. They were all sporting number ten jerseys for Cade or eighteen for Beckett, while I was wearing the pantsuit I wore to work this morning. I wonder if I’ll ever be in a place where I’ll wear jeans and Dreven’s number? It doesn’t seem like something I’d do.
Just as Iris said it would, the meet and greet went off without a hitch. Both the fans and players were ecstatic after the win. The arena has cleared of fans, and most everyone has left.
Gunner, freshly showered and wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs his biceps, steps out of the locker room with his duffel bag in hand.
“Good game.” I give him a smile.
He smacks me on the ass. “Thanks. Let’s get out of here.”
“Everyone’s heading to the bar. Did you want to meet up?”
“Nah. Not in the mood tonight. Let’s just head back to your place.”
I bite my bottom lip in thought.
Gunner releases a deep chuckle beside me. “Trust me. Grown-ass men can handle a night out without you.”
“Are we sure, though? You’re all nothing but troublemakers. What if something goes wrong, and I’m not there to smooth it out?”
“They’ll manage. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a control freak?” he opens the door to the car garage, and I pass him, exiting the building.
I shoot him a mock glare. “Maybe once or twice.”
This causes a smile to form on his face. Grumpy and broody Gunner is one attractive man, but happy Gunner is hot as hell. I love making him smile.
“You know it’s not your job to follow us to the bars.” He opens the passenger side door, and I slide in.
I wait until he’s walked around the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat to answer. “I know, but being there when a mess happens so I can immediately do damage control makes my life a lot easier.”
He backs out of the space and pulls out onto the road. “You don’t have much faith in us, do you?”
I scoff.
“Look on the bright side. I won’t be there. So less likely to be issues.”
“True.”
Gunner smiles again, and I have to stop myself from sighing. He’s beautiful.
I ask some questions about the game, and it gets him talking. He’s definitely not much of a conversationalist, but he gets going when he’s chatting about a game.
Gunner's mouth is on mine the second my front door closes behind us. God, this man can kiss. “I’ve been waiting to do that all night,” he says between kisses.
“Oh yeah?” My lips grin against his.
“Oh yeah.”
With my back up against the door, Gunner cups my chin, directing my mouth exactly where he wants it to go. He releases an anguished moan into my mouth as his tongue dances with mine. His kisses are addictive. I circle my arms around his tight back muscles and pull him into me, wanting to feel his strong body against mine.
He pulls away, panting, and retrieves something from his discarded duffel bag on the floor. Then he pushes a piece of clothing into my hands, and his words come out gravelly and needy. “Go put this on. I want to fuck you in nothing but this.”
I don’t question the demand. I slip past him and into my room, where I quickly remove my clothing. It takes my lust-filled brain a second to realize that the item in my hand is his jersey. I hold the navy blue Crane’s jersey with the white number twenty-nine.
Holy hell. Desire pools, and I throw his jersey over my head and pull it down over my bare skin in record time.
Gunner lumbers into the room, discarding his clothing as he enters. He halts and takes me in, his stare feral, and his chest heaves as he pulls in a breath. His big brown eyes take me in from my head to my toes and back again. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and sends my pulse careening.
He stands naked before me, and it’s clear just how much I turn him on. “Almost,” he utters through pained breaths, holding my stare.
“Oh.” I reach up and unclip my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders, and toss the clip to the floor.
“Fucking perfect.”
He closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around me, lifting me off the ground. I circle my legs around his ass. In a few steps, he has me pinned against the wall, and he’s entering me hard and fast. As he slips deep inside me, we moan in unison.
Bending his knees, he thrusts up, hitting my insides at the perfect angle. I chant my approval over and over. Sex with Gunner is always good. Sometimes he takes it slow with lots of foreplay, and other times, he gets right to the main event, and it’s just as amazing. His moves are punishingly sweet, and my entire body hums as he works me higher and higher.
“Are you mine?” he groans, holding my stare.
“Yes,” I pant. My body starts to tremble as the impending euphoria rises. “I’m yours.”
He works his thrusts harder, and his chest glistens with sweat. “Then you better fucking show it.” His words resonate but barely as I focus in on my pleasure. With a flick of his finger, he’ll have me soaring, and he knows it. I want to come so bad that I’m out of my mind. “Penny…”
“I’ll show it. I’ll show it,” I cry out as his hand slips between my legs and rubs the bundle of nerves that sends me flying.
Two orgasms later, we lie in my bed. The jersey has been tossed to the floor. I lie beside him, and our heated skin is pressed together. I trace lazy circles over his chest muscles, and his fingers trail up and down my back in a rhythmic motion as we both catch our breath.
“Does twenty-nine have a significance?” I ask before pressing my lips against his chest in a peck.
His body stiffens. “Hmm?”
“Your jersey number? A lot of the guys pick numbers that are significant to them for one reason or another. Did you… pick a meaningful number or just get assigned one?”
He pulls his arm out from behind my head and sits up. “I think we could use a shower. Yeah?”
“Gunner. My question. Are you going to answer it?”
“No.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands.
“Seriously?” My tone raises an octave. “It’s a simple question.” I scurry off the bed and follow him into the bathroom.
He turns on the water and steps into the shower, leaving me confused. “Gunner,” I protest.
“Drop it, Penny. That’s a story for another day.”
The emotion in his voice is out of place, and if I’m not mistaken, it sounds a little like sorrow. I don’t ask the question again.
Nothing about this relationship is what I would classify as normal, and for the most part, I’m okay with it. We’re both on a learning curve of sorts. Yet Gunner is holding back more than me. And though I think I want to be his, I’m not. We can’t belong to one another if we don’t truly know one another. He needs time, and I understand that. But I can’t pretend I’m not nervous. If he can’t trust me enough to let me in, we have an expiration date—it’s that simple.
We’ve barely started, yet the thought of losing him scares me. More than it probably should.