Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Hatch
Even in distress, the bride looked beautiful.
Brides always looked beautiful though, right? I couldn’t recall an ugly bride, so my conclusion about Summer’s appearance wasn’t really all that startling. Or maybe I liked that she looked upset. She should be after what she’d done.
None of which explained why I was helping her.
This woman had just jilted a teammate, and I assumed she had not done it to his face, judging by her scrambled exit from a church’s side window.
My initial instinct to help a woman in need was now giving way to annoyance that she’d placed me in this position.
My team should always come first, and even if Carter was a jerk, he didn’t deserve to be humiliated like this on his wedding day.
“I’ll drop you at home.”
Her gaze snapped to mine, and she bit her lip, which accounted for that bruised fruit look.
“No. Dash will find me there.”
“Right now, he’s being comforted by his friends and family and is probably halfway to getting hammered. He’s not likely to be chasing you down.”
“And you’re sure of this?”
“It’s what I’d do if the woman I was about to marry lost her nerve and jilted me at the altar.”
“I didn’t lose my nerve.”
“Ah, so you planned the poor guy’s destruction on his wedding day.”
I took the corner into downtown Riverbrook where Dash and Summer lived.
“It wasn’t planned! I just knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t—”
“Yep, you said. You more than said. You actually did it. Left the guy in front of everyone he knows.”
She glared at me. “Stop the car.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Stop the car!”
I pulled over, just past the gates to Founders’ Park. She yanked at the passenger door handle. It took her a couple of tries to get it open.
“Seriously?”
She held up a hand. “Thank you kindly for the ride. I’ll make my own way from here.”
Thank you kindly? “We’re just a couple of blocks—”
She slammed the door. Through the window, I watched her lean on the hood of the car while she adjusted the strap of her shoe, dipping her body so the dark valley between her breasts was exposed.
Then she smoothed the dress and without a glance in my direction, headed back the way we’d come.
Was she planning to return to the church?
While I did not approve of her actions today, I could not in any shape or form condone that. No way in hell was she going back to him after what she’d done. Giving everyone whiplash because she couldn’t make up her mind.
I exited the car and caught up with her. “Where are you going?”
“None of your business.”
“Back to Carter?”
She stopped. Turned. Delivered a look of such pure hatred I felt my balls shrivel.
“You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”
Her lipstick had smudged, her mascara made her look like a miserable panda, and the bodice had slipped again, revealing another sliver of creamy skin.
“I don’t think anything.”
“Liar.”
Guess I wasn’t winning any acting awards.
She lifted her dress, though it was one of those that was short at the front and long at the back and didn’t touch the ground or need lifting. Instead of walking straight down the street, she hooked a left into the park.
I gave her a short head start, then followed until she took a seat on one of the benches facing the pond. It was peaceful here. A few people strolled the path on the other side while over here a couple of ducks playfully skirted the edge of the water near the rushes.
I approached. “Mind if I sit?”
“It’s a free country.”
I took a seat at the end of the bench. “If you can’t go to your apartment then where were you planning to go?”
“I-I don’t know. I just need to get out of here. Out of the city. I need time to think without all that.” She waved at some point behind her, then slid a look my way. “You’ve never made a bad decision in your life, have you?”
“Everyone’s made bad decisions. You don’t have a monopoly on that.”
“Okay, tell me one.”
“A bad decision?”
“Yes. Tell me something you’ve done that you regret.”
“I screwed up a pass to Cody Jacobs my first time out on the Rebels and the Motors scored a goal.” I’d rather recall that than the game-losing error I’d made in the last game of the Finals.
Her expression was withering. “A game mistake? That’s the worst you can think of?”
The worst thing I could think of was not for her ears.
“So what’s your worst decision? Backing out of marrying Carter?”
She scoffed. “Backing into marrying him. That’s what it felt like. Being backed into a corner. Trapped into this life I thought I wanted. My reward for working so hard.”
Even gold diggers felt like they worked their way to the top. Carter always treated her like a trophy, and she had put up with it. It was the price she was willing to pay to be married to a dick and now she was experiencing buyer’s remorse. Was I supposed to feel sorry for her?
“So you’re out of it. It sucks but you can move on.”
“Like that’s possible. I don’t even have my job!”
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said sullenly. It was kind of fascinating to see a bad-tempered Summer. She was usually all glitter and unicorns, a total Miss Sunshine, not that I’d ever bought it.
My guess was that Carter encouraged her to quit.
He made a tidy sum playing hockey, but the family billions were the true jackpot.
No way would the heir to the Dominion Hotel Group want his wife working in the front office for his team.
He probably expected her to stay home, nesting and keeping house.
If I had billions, would I expect my wife to play Susie Homemaker and prep for the passel of kids I’d fill her with?
I like to think I’d be open-minded enough to let any wife of mine choose her own path.
But the partner of a hockey player often had their life circumscribed in ways partners of civilians did not.
The threat of trade was ever present, and a trade upended a family.
It was hard for a spouse to build a career that was location-dependent when their husband’s took precedence.
That might have sounded harsh, but it was the reality of a pro-hockey athlete’s life.
“Seems like the least of your worries. You’re going to have to talk to Carter sometime.”
“Not now.” She stood, grasping her skirt, and headed over to the edge of the pond.
For a second I thought she might hurl herself into the water, but then she pulled out something from a hidden pocket at the side of her dress.
A moment later, the pond’s surface was dotted with pieces of cracker. Momma Duck and her two babies attacked.
I moved forward to stand beside her. “You just happened to have crackers?”
“Rosie gave them to me because I barely ate anything for breakfast. Told me to nibble on them, but I think these little guys need them more.”
Something shifted in my chest. Rosie was one of my closest friends and she’d already texted asking me where I was. My absence from the church had been noted.
What I had noted was that Summer was thin.
Too thin. Like she needed those crackers.
Maybe it was a bride thing, losing weight to fit in your dress, but I suspected more.
Over the last few months while we skated our asses off to get to the Finals, Summer had always looked drawn and tired, even during the post-game celebrations.
I might not like her much, but I hadn’t enjoyed seeing that. She was supposed to be happy and healthy, gearing up for her big day and thrilled at her man making it so far in the playoffs.
“What do you want to do, Summer?”
She startled at my gentler tone. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name to my face. Not just today, but ever.”
I doubted that was true, but I was in no mood to argue with her.
“Next steps?”
“I just want to get away from here. I can’t face them. Any of them.”
“What about your family?” Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen anyone from the bride’s family at the rehearsal dinner.
She shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. If I were a gentleman, I would have taken her in my arms, folded her skinny frame up tight, and comforted her as best I could.
But I wasn’t a gentleman, not where Summer Landry was concerned.
Instead, I said the dumbest thing I could think of:
“I’ve got somewhere you can hole up for a while.”