Chapter 4
Wes
Isla Covington steals my breath.
She’s even more beautiful in person. I trudge to my pickup truck with Thea, and that’s all I can think about. Not about the “damage” I supposedly caused on Isla’s car. Or her combative attitude.
All I can focus on is the way her hair flowed past her slender shoulders when she stood before me in line. How her leggings sinfully hugged her tight ass. And the fire in her blue eyes when she narrowed them on me.
She was beautiful the night I met her when we were teenagers. But her beauty wasn’t all that pulled me to her. I recognized a defiance and anger in her, the same that existed in me.
And it’s still there, for both of us.
“Are you okay?” Thea scrutinizes me from the passenger seat, and I realize I’ve been sitting in this car for a full minute but still haven’t turned it on.
I start the ignition and click my seat belt into place. “Yeah, fine.”
Isla doesn’t remember me, not that I’d expect her to.
I’ve forgotten a lot in the last fourteen years, and I’ve also changed significantly from the scrawny kid she met.
But that crushing disappointment in the center of my chest means some part of me—the naive, weak part—still hoped she might hold on to the memory of me as I have of her.
Thea goes to put her earbuds in—a seemingly permanent fixture for her—when I blurt out my middle school-era question. “Hey, so, what did she say to you?”
“Who are you talking about, Uncle Wes?”
She’s fucking with me. I expected fights about curfew or attitude when I told her to make her bed. I didn’t anticipate that she’d psychoanalyze my actions and poke at my sensitive spots.
“Isla.” Her name sounds foreign rolling off my tongue like I’m sounding out a word I’d never seen before.
“Oh. Her.” Thea’s voice drips with false surprise. Antagonizing little shit. “Not much.”
I glare at her, but she sticks her earbud in, ignoring me. Guess that’s the extent of information I’ll learn from their interaction.
We arrive at the rink before I’m ready. My nerves ratchet when I spot Isla’s “damaged” car parked in the lot.
Spencer said they’d meet here today, so I’m not caught off guard.
Still, I’m unprepared. Thea’s hockey camp has the ice for several hours this morning, but then it will belong to Isla and Spence, and avoiding Isla will become impossible.
“See ya later,” Thea calls as she hops out of the truck and grabs her hockey gear from the flatbed. She slings it over her shoulder like it weighs nothing, but I know that’s not the case.
“You know where you’re going?” I call to Thea while climbing out of the truck.
She pauses, turning around so I can watch her eyes roll. “I think I can figure it out.”
“Right,” I mutter.
Spencer’s cackling laughter reaches me moments later. “Real smooth, brother.” He claps me on the shoulder, sliding his arm around me. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of this guardianship thing.”
“Fuck off.” I shrug off his arm and continue toward my rink.
I purchased it ten years ago after I finished college, using the money I’d earned from consistently working since I was twelve years old.
My friends didn’t understand why I returned to my hometown after spending my college years grumbling about it.
Or why I’d sink my future into a broken-down, barely functioning rink.
But we grew up only an hour away, and my best childhood memories took place here.
I also wanted to take care of my father and support my brother.
We walk a few strides in silence before he starts talking again, always needing to break the silences I enjoy. “So, I was thinking the three of us would grab lunch.”
“Thea has already informed me that she has plans. Not sure how.”
Spencer snorts. “Jealous that you’ve lived here for ten years and have fewer friends than our niece?”
“I’ll survive.”
“I meant Isla,” he clarifies, sending my stomach into a storm. “Our timeline for getting ready to compete is ridiculous. We need to spend as much time together as possible to build trust and chemistry, and it’s important to me that you know her. Thea, too.”
My stomach tightens into knots. He wants me to spend time with her?
“Is she on board for this forced bonding?” I ask.
If the Isla from this morning is anything like her usual demeanor, Spencer is in for a rude awakening. She’s hardened in the years since we met.
“She wants to win, and said she’ll do whatever is necessary.”
I wonder if she had any idea when she made that statement that it would include socializing with her partner’s family, one of whom she’s already argued with in public.
“So, can you make time?” he prods.
I sharply shake my head. “Not today.”
His shoulders deflate, which makes me hate myself for torpedoing his grand plan. He quickly recovers, always able to shake off disappointment. “Okay, but she does need to talk to you about the job, so I’ll bring her by your office in a couple hours.”
The job. Right. I agreed to allow Spencer’s new skating partner to give her private skating lessons in my rink. Spence flashed me that stupid little-boy smile of his, and I caved like I have since we were kids.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble. I study Isla through the glass doors of the building, something I couldn’t do at the coffee shop.
Her hands move through her hair, tying off one braid and letting it fall against her back.
I bite my lip and swallow my sigh. The image of her unbelievable body is burned into my mind.
This is important to Spencer. Get it together.
“Are you sure it’s fine that she works here? Because if you’re not comfortable with it, I don’t wanna force her on you and make it awkward.”
I walk out of view from the door, not wanting to alert Isla to my presence. Spencer follows until he stands beside me, looking out on the parking lot. It’d be easier if I could tell him that Isla can’t work for me.
But I don’t want to disappoint my brother. When he realized he wasn’t ready to retire, he agonized over picking a new skating partner. Choosing Isla lifted a weight from him, and my happy-go-lucky brother returned to shining annoying sunlight everywhere he goes.
So I’m going to support him, even if it means letting Isla work for me and eating some meals with her. I need to break the ice with her and move past our incident this morning, so we can co-exist peacefully for Spence’s sake.
“Bring her by later and we’ll talk.” I push off the building and stride toward the front door again. “And I’m good for lunch or dinner any time this week except Wednesday, because I’ve got a hockey game. Or Saturday, obviously.”
Spencer nods. I’ll drive out to our childhood home where our father still lives to start packing his belongings ahead of the upcoming move.
His dementia has advanced to the point where living alone with only a few hours of a home health aide puts him at risk.
Every weekend since I moved back, I’ve driven the hour each way to spend time with him.
These last few years have been gut-wrenching as I’ve watched him deteriorate, especially those moments—which eventually turned to days—of him forgetting who I am.
“Are you ready for Saturday?”
The no comes automatically in my mind, but I have no choice but to show up for my dad, and for Spencer.
It’s been the three of us, plus Ella, since I was a teenager, when our mother left us a note saying she needed some time alone.
We never saw her after that. I never expected to, but Spencer held tight to the hope of that note for years.
I didn’t hate her for taking off. Her instability made our lives more difficult.
But I’ll never forgive her for Spencer’s disappointment every night when she didn’t return.
“I’m all set.” I dodge his question. No one prepares you for the moment when you become the caretaker of your parent. I pull open the door, motioning over my shoulder in the general direction of my office. “I’ve got a lot of work, so.”
Spencer’s response doesn’t register with me as I hustle toward the left hallway opposite Isla, hoping that I’m fast enough to avoid her seeing me.