Chapter 3
For some reason, I was on edge walking into the rink before our Saturday night practice.
Anxious?
Nervous?
Worried?
Earlier, I’d sent out a mass text to the team to help Trav and me out with coaching the Tots league, but I had no clue Frankie was in that group chat.
After the blunder, I searched the chat, and she had never once responded to any of our bullshit. She simply existed in silence, reading or maybe ignoring us completely.
However, when searching for her name to see if she had ever texted back, I found one hundred and four mentions of her name in the conversations. Forty-eight of them were from me.
Kill me.
Frankie Blake couldn’t have been more different from me. When I smiled, she glared. When I laughed, she said something sarcastic. When I was easygoing and made friends everywhere, she acted as though she sat upon a deserted island, watching everyone float on by without even trying to wave hello.
She existed in her own little black cat bubble, with her sharp eyeliner, ripped jeans, and scuffed Converse.
But she hadn’t always been like that. When we were in high school, she was two years younger than I was, but I knew who she was. Everyone did.
Franchesca Blake was the wild child of our little hometown.
She smiled and flirted with everyone, in a nutshell, she was the girl everyone wanted either to be or to date.
It was no surprise when she got wrapped up with an asshole bad boy, but we were all surprised when he talked her into leaving it all behind for him.
Broke her mama’s heart to watch her ride away on the back seat of his motorcycle with nothing more than a quick goodbye.
A couple of years ago, she pulled back into town, this time in an SUV with a couple of car seats in tow, and no smiles for anyone. Now she was right back where she never wanted to be, to begin with.
I couldn’t find it in me to be sad about that though, because it meant she was around people who cared about her. People who watched over her.
Men who would take care of her.
Something happened to her in her time away from Cedar Bluff, and it darkened her soul. It changed who she was.
When her mama had mentioned that Frankie was coming back, and looking for a job, I mentioned the rink was looking for a couple of different positions.
A few weeks later, Frankie was the newest bartender, working five shifts a week.
And for the last four years, she slowly unwound herself from the mental turmoil she hid behind, and started integrating with locals, building new relationships as the woman she was today.
I had almost convinced myself to do more than shamelessly flirt from my side of the bar top when Trav made a comment about being interested in her. God, that was a shitty night.
It was the first time in our nearly two decades long friendship that I had considered competing with him for a girl.
We had completely different types in women, so it hadn’t happened before.
To be honest, Frankie was the perfect woman for Trav.
Their darkness matched energies, and their dry humor, or better yet, their incredible lack of any humor at all, was identical.
All that being said, I couldn’t figure out why I was interested in her at all, outside of physical attraction.
That was easy to figure out because, fuck—she was sexy.
Then there was the way she was with her kids.
She was an incredible mom. Emmie and Toby were terrorists in their own ways, and ran Frankie ragged, but she never complained.
She just showed up every day for them, without fail.
Then there was also the way my body reacted every time she was near, that was hard to ignore.
There was something in her smile. It happened so infrequently that when I could get one out of her; it felt like the sunshine had broken through the clouds in a storm, for just a second before it disappeared again.
Worth every second of corny one-liners, and overwhelming moments of annoying her for them.
My attraction to her made little sense, so that was why I never acted on it. I thought maybe it’d fade and blow over after the appeal of the shiny new toy vibe she brought to town ended.
Four years later, I was still fucking waiting.
Scratch that, I wasn’t waiting anymore. I was tired of ignoring it. Even if it meant stepping on Trav’s toes. If it was meant to be between her and me, he’d get over it. And if it wasn’t, then it wouldn’t matter, anyway.
But I had to try.
Leading me to nervous jitters as I walked through the rink’s public space, toward the locker rooms, directly past the bar.
Directly past Frankie.
She was behind the bar, washing glasses, with her signature knot of long dark brown hair tied up on top of her head, dark makeup and a black-and-white checkered flannel.
I was early, and our team beers weren’t sitting on the bar top yet, which had been my plan. So, as I neared the busy bar, she hardly glanced up at me before continuing what she was doing. “I’ll be right with you.” She spoke.
“No hurry. I've got time.” I replied, taking a seat, and her head snapped up in my direction.
“Elliot.” She looked at me confused and then up at the large Budweiser clock over her cash register. “I thought I was running late for a minute.”
“You’re all good, I’m early.” I smiled, hoping she’d relax if she saw I was. Instead, she tucked a wayward piece of hair behind her ear and dried her hands off.
“Can I get you a beer?” she asked.
“That would be great.” I pulled my wallet out and laid a ten on the counter as she exchanged it for a Coors Lite, my drink of choice.
Even if Coach Rick ordered us all Labatt each night.
I drank it because it was free, and I was a dude who didn’t look at a cold beer in the face without drinking it.
But having my favorite was better. And knowing Frankie remembered it was even better.
“So Tiny Tots, huh?” I asked and smirked when she let out a huff, blowing her bangs back.
“If you ask for a blowie, I’m going to steal the keys to the Zamboni and run you over with it.” She deadpanned, pointing her bottle opener at me before cracking the lid off a bottle for another customer.
“Asking for them takes all the fun out of it, so you’re safe. Unless you’re offering?” I joked with a wink, and I couldn’t be sure, but as she turned away, it seemed like her cheeks started blushing.
And then she avoided me altogether at the other end of the bar.
“Harassing my favorite ball buster?” Coach Rick asked, sliding onto the stool next to me with a nudge. “I wouldn’t recommend it. You don’t have thick enough skin.”
Frankie smirked and made her way back to my end, as if with Coach Rick at my side, I was safer.
Interesting.
“Don’t you boys have pucks to chase?” She asked, sliding a beer across the counter to him and leaning on her elbows. “Or puck bunnies to chase?”
“Ooh,” I grimaced, grabbing my heart. “You wound me, Black Cat. When was the last time you saw me flirting back with one of those?”
“True.” Rick clanked his beer to mine, “But they chase you a whole lot.”
“It’s incredible actually,” Frankie sassed, “Who knew beer league hockey was so popular. You’d think you were famous with how many groupies you have.”
“Hmm.” I leaned forward and tilted my head to the side, “You sound jealous. Want to join my fan club?”
“As if.” She cut back without missing a beat, “Pretty boy jocks aren’t my thing.”
“What is your thing then?” I asked, rejoicing in how she didn’t back off or deflect me like she usually did. Her standing still long enough to bicker with was refreshing. And exciting. “I’ve never seen you pay any man, jock or not, attention.”
Rick snorted, standing up off his stool as Frankie instantly handed him another can to take with him. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
We both paid him hardly any attention, as Frankie raised one perfect dark eyebrow at me. “Maybe it’s men that aren’t my type.”
“A lesbian?” I pretended to be shocked, “Now that’s a date I want to be a third wheel on.”
She rolled her eyes, barely cracking a smile. “You wish, Sunshine.”
I opened my mouth to tell her just how much I did, when a shrieking whistle broke our stare off, drawing our attention to the entrance.
Frankie’s son Toby and his sister Emmie ran in through the front doors like two wild tornadoes full of energy and chaos. Toby had a whistle between his lips, blowing his freaking mind off as Emmie passed a puck back and forth between her stick, wearing a Yosemite Jersey that hung to her knees.
“What the hell?” Frankie leaned back, shaking her head. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Grandma got the shits.” Emmie deadpanned, laying her stick across the bar top as she crawled up on the stool next to me.
“Emelia Elizabeth!” Frankie snapped, pointing her finger at her as Toby blew his whistle loudly again.
“Swear jar!” He yelled like an official on the ice, complete with hand motions. “Two dollars for a four-letter word not starting with an F!”
He tried climbing up onto the stool on my other side, and slipped, but I caught him just in the nick of time and put him on the seat. He grinned like a playboy and winked at me.
Emmie didn’t miss a beat and shrugged her shoulders. “It can cross out mom’s fuckballs from this morning. Which is five dollars times two because it was before eight am.”
I choked on my beer and coughed right before it came out my nose.
Emmie blinked at me without a lick of embarrassment, and I decided she was my favorite. The girl was just like her mom. “That’s very generous of you.”
“I’m cool like that.” She fired back.
“What in the ever-loving world is going on right now?” Frankie interrupted, hands on her hips as we all looked across the bar at her.
“I told you.” Emmie looked over her mom’s head at the Yosemite game playing. “Grandma’s sick. She can’t watch us tonight.”
“She just dropped you off?” Frankie asked, pulling her phone from her back pocket. “I didn't even get a call from her.”
Her daughter sighed as if the whole thing was tiresome, “She was shi—I mean, pooping her brains out, Mom. She said she was going to have to stand in the shower and let it come out both ends like you did that time you ate oysters at that cookout on a date with that weirdo from the seafood truck that delivers frozen shrimp here.”
“Enough!” Frankie rubbed her forehead, chancing a glance at me before groaning in frustration. “I can’t do this right now, Emmie. I have to work.”
“And Toby and I are going to be perfect angels while we wait for you to be done.” Emmie said in a robot voice, like she was repeating strict instructions from their grandma herself.
“Are there nachos tonight, Mama?” Toby asked, leaning up on his knees to look at the snack bar across the wide-open space, and Frankie snapped her fingers in his face, drawing his eyes back to her.
“If I catch you anywhere near that snack bar tonight, I’m going to sell you to Stew. And he’s going to sell you to the circus. Do you hear me, sir?” She sighed, looking out over the space. “What the hell am I going to do?”
She wasn’t talking to me, and in reality, I had no business answering her. But I did anyway.
“You’re going to sell them to me.” I said, glancing at Toby, whose eyes rounded slightly. “We have all kinds of things that they can help with tonight.”
“Really?” Emmie cut in, pulling on my sleeve. “On the ice things?”
“Hockey!” Toby let out a shrill scream, throwing his hands up into the air and blowing his whistle. “Hockey! Hockey! Hockey!” He chanted like he was calling for a fight on the ice.
I snorted and looked at Frankie. “We can keep them busy for you.”
“No.” Frankie shook her head and then looked over my shoulder, stiffening slightly. “No, I’ll figure something else out.”
“For what?” Trav asked, coming up behind me as Emmie jumped onto her knees to face him.
“My grandma’s sick, Mom’s stressed, and Sunshine said he’s going to buy us.”
Trav gave me a side-eye as I chuckled before explaining. “Frankie is in a jam, we’re not doing anything crazy tonight at practice, and we’re going to entertain the kids while we do it so Frankie can relax.”
She snorted behind me with an exasperated look on her face. “I haven’t done that in years, fellas. Besides, you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into.”
“We got it.” Travis said without missing a beat, which surprised me.
Not that he didn’t like kids, he coached youth clinics regularly, but he also wasn’t the type of guy to invite chaos into his life.
Respectfully, Frankie’s kids were chaos wrapped in a feral raccoon layer of sticky energy.
Maybe with all twenty of us guys on deck, we might be able to keep them out of trouble until the end of her shift. Maybe. “Don’t worry about it.”
I looked at her and hated the way she didn’t bite back at him or argue like she did with me. Instead, she chewed on her bottom lip, looking like she wanted to, but ended up sighing and deflating a bit. “I’ll see if I can get someone to come in and cover me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I said as I stood up and caught Toby mid-superman jump off his stool, before lowering him to his feet. “We've got this.”
Frankie snorted as Travis and Emmie turned off toward the rink with doubtful eyes. “Good luck. And thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” I winked, “But if you’re offering payback—”
“Zamboni.” She warned, cutting me off with a lethal stare that cracked a little at the end with a soft smile. “But good try.”