Chapter 7
Tide Cottage, Freedom
Robyn
“We’re fucked, Cody.” I bang my head back against the striped, window seat in Tide Cottage.
“Dad actually said save us or fuck us in the ass?” Cody scrunches up his nose. “I don’t want anyone but my husband in my ass. He’s possessive. You don’t deserve this pressure, Ryn. You’re doing an awesome job. Plus, I’ve only just been appointed the Director of Physical Therapy. I’m excited about starting properly with the guys. I’ve worked years for this chance to prove myself.”
Prove himself to Dadhe means but doesn’t say.
But we both hear it.
Cody is two years younger than me, although he’s so athletic and sun blushed by his time spent surfing that he could still be a college student.
He’s handsome with neat brunette hair, freckles across the bridge of his nose, and russet eyes. He’s dressed in a pastel blue t-shirt and matching boardshorts.
I’ve always been close to my brother, and he’s spent his life being fiercely protective of me.
But then, I’m equally protective of him.
Until he married his husband, Michael, he had no one else in his corner.
David Bowie’s glam rock “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars” is playing on repeat.
It’s my brother’s favorite album.
I glance out of the window.
The beach is remote and wild with sea stacks, which rise from the swelling waves. Above, in the sapphire sky, bald eagles soar.
It’s breezy today and cold.
After the stress of the last few days and the meeting with Dad (and admittedly, forgetting to stick on my laundry), I’m bundled in an old, faded One Direction sweater over green leggings.
Cody’s eyes lit up when he saw the sweater. He asked if he could borrow it for the sake of nostalgia.
Yep, definitely for no other reason.
“It’ll work out,” Cody says. “Your guys are dedicated. You know that I’ll do whatever the team needs to make it succeed. How about we hold brainstorming meetings at Merchant’s Inn? Neve’s got freaky business skills.”
“You choosing that venue has nothing to do with being able to drink beer at the same time, huh?”
“It’s got everything to do with that.”
I laugh. “Sounds good to me, Code.”
“Do you want one of these while we wait?” Cody slices open a crusty roll on the butcher block countertop and butters it.
My stomach growls. “You read my mind.”
“I’ve been practicing mentalism.” He waggles his eyebrows.
Cody’s brunches are famous. He bakes everything from scratch, and I’ve never tasted anything as delicious as his fresh bread and pastries.
That gives me an idea.
“Why don’t you send some of your recipes to Eden?” I suggest.
“Hmm, they’re based on secrets passed down from generation to generation…”
“You got most of them from Ina Garten, didn’t you?”
Cody looks sheepish. “Busted.”
“Anyway, Eden’s family now. So, the secret recipe stuff is bullshit. You could start some kind of Bakers of Bay Rebels online WhatsApp chat. He’s isolated right now. But that would be a way to…”
“Get to know him as a friend.” Cody smiles. “No problem.”
“Is Mike going to be here soon?”
Cody drops his gaze. “He’s late. You know how it is. He’s had an all-night shift at the hospital. I never know when he’ll get back.”
That’s not a surprise.
Michael works in ER at Freedom Heart hospital.
Darling, I’m saving livesis a pretty good excuse for canceling plans.
Cody’s used to never knowing when his husband will be home. As the husband of a doctor, it’s something that you need to be supportive about.
Yet it can be hard.
“He loves you,” I say. “Your marriage is everything that I wish mine had been. I bet that Mike’s thinking of you, even while he’s elbow deep in blood and guts.”
Cody shoots me a grateful smile. “Romantic.”
I understand what he can’t say because my ex was a hockey player who canceled because of training or games.
He wouldn’t call to let me know. Instead, he sent me a text with an emoji: Stick and puck.
It took me years to realize it was often these times that he was cheating on me with other women and hockey fans.
Can you be triggered by an emoji?
Cody strolls across the kitchen and passes me the plate. The scent of fresh bread wraps around me like a hug.
The tension seeps from me like it always does, when I visit my brother’s cottage by the sea.
The kitchen is cozy with exposed beams and wide-planked wooden floors. The walls and open shelves are painted sky blue. Cody’s surfboards are stacked against the far wall, and the tangy brine smell wars with the sweet scent of fresh bread.
I take the plate from Cody and balance it on my knee. He sits on the window seat next to me.
My mouth waters, as I pick up the bread. “You are about to make my mouth very happy.”
I take a large bite and then moan.
Fuck, this is a mouthgasm.
Incredible.
The bread melts, delicious and buttery. I swallow, licking my lips.
“Funny, I said the same to Mike this morning but I was kneeling at the time…” Cody’s eyes twinkle with amusement.
I shove him, laughing. “TMI, Code. What would Mike say? I don’t want to hear about your adventures with Doctor Kink.”
“Why not? And Mike would become stern and take me gently in hand like he always does. Anyway, I have to hear about your adventures with the three hockey musketeers. Do their swords cross, or is it like Ghostbusters, disaster if the streams cross?”
I flush, thinking of Shay and D’Angelo’s streams crossing.
It’s definitely explosive every time that they do.
I almost had an explosive moment myself, when D’Angelo and I went to watch Shay at the rink after the meeting.
The lights were dim, apart from the spotlights that were directed onto the vast rink.
D’Angelo and I strolled close to the boards. D’Angelo leaned on the glass like he was trying subconsciously to get as close to Shay as possible.
I didn’t blame him.
Shay is mesmerizing on the ice.
“He truly could be the best,” D’Angelo murmured.
My heart sped up. My pulse was loud in my ears.
It’s always thrilling to watch Shay: My English hockey god.
He’s fast on the ice.
Faster than D’Angelo.
Faster than anyone in the NHL.
He’s going to burst onto the NHL season, and it’s going to shock everyone. Even after the exhibition games, when Shay comes into his full potential over this season and shines in the light, it’s going to blow everyone away.
The world isn’t going to know what hit them.
Are any of us ready for what that’ll mean?
Is Shay? Eden?
Thoughtfully, I take another bite of the delicious bread.
I mumble around my mouthful, “Fuck, I needed this. The last few weeks have been brutal.”
Cody’s expression softens. “You can visit or even stay here whenever you like, Ryn. Mike and I have agreed that our home will always be open to you. Was Dad that much of an asshole?”
“Not only Dad.”
Cody jumps up like he’s ready to fight some invisible opponent. “Who’s giving you a hard time? Is it one of the other hockey players? It better not be D’Angelo; he still hasn’t got a full pass from me. I’ll punch all of them in the dick.”
My lips quirk. “They’re twice as large as you and could break you in half with one hand tied behind them. But nope, it’s no one in Bay Rebels. Plus, it’d be hard for you to punch them in the dick, since they don’t have one.”
Cody crosses his arms. “Who is it then?”
“Melanie Helt.”
Cody pales. “The Melanie? Melanie the leader of the Mean Girls? The girl who called you fat fox?”
I wince. It’s all coming back now. I’d forgotten that creative insult.
“Yep, the one and only.” I take another bite of the bread to stop myself calling her what I really want to.
It doesn’t stop Cody. “Melanie the fucking body-shaming bully? Don’t you remember how many fights I got into at high school, trying to protect you from her?”
I do.
And that’s the problem.
I place the plate down and stand. Gently, I draw Cody into a hug.
“Thanks, Code,” I whisper. “I hope that you know how much it’s always meant to me. She had that gang of jocks hanging off her every bitchy word, willing to do her bullying for her. It was a manipulative trick, so that she wasn’t the one who could get in trouble for what was said or the times that they fought you.”
“They were her dumb jock flock of flying monkeys.”
I shudder, when I think of all the times that I had to help Cody limp home and clean up bloodied noses and viciously bruised ribs. I shudder worse that those fights are why Dad marked my brother as the screw-up, keeping him on punishment chores for years that cut him out of family life and isolated him from his friends.
I hug Cody tighter. “She’s still a pink haired witch. Only, this time, instead of me and you, the McKenna siblings, she’s going after the entire Bay Rebels. Actually, she seems to have it in specifically for D’Angelo. She seems to scent blood and then that’s it, feeding frenzy.”
Cody pulls back from me. “So, she’s a shark witch…? As a surfer, you’ve given me nightmares about going back into the water, Ryn. Still, we should have known with her love for gossip and spreading false rumors that Melanie would have become a journalist. What’s she doing now that’s so bad?”
I drop back onto the window seat with a sigh. “Threatening an exclusive against D’Angelo. I don’t know what’s in it. Plus, with D’Angelo’s past, there could be a lot.”
Cody’s expression becomes fierce. “We may be adults, but I’m still going to defend you. Words can hurt as much as blows. She’ll be doing this for a reason.”
I nod, thoughtfully.
Then Cody’s eyes light with wonder, and he whistles.
He points out of the front window of the cottage. “Shit, a classic car that looks like it’s worth more than my entire cottage has just driven down my lane. It appears to be lurking at the bottom. It’s only a guess…but is it waiting for you? Not many people apart from the hockey players in Freedom can afford something like that.”
My mouth drops open.
“Ehm, that may be the carriage for my first date.” I grin. This is going to be interesting. “He’s early but D’Angelo’s not good at following rules. They each agreed that they could take me on a date. It’ll distract them from the pressure of this start to the season. It’s intense because we’re like the little David, the newest team, taking on every other Goliath in the rest of the NHL.”
D”Angelo has responded to the pressure by prowling around Captain’s Hall and playing Gothic music on the grand piano like something out of Phantom of the Opera.
Eden’s been going on long hikes into the woods and communing with squirrels.
And Shay has simply been breaking things accidentally. My last count is two vases, a picture frame, and the mirror in the bathroom, which he cracked with a reckless high kick.
All of a sudden, Cody rubs his hands together.
I don’t trust the gleam in his eye.
Sometimes, my brother is scary.
“This sounds like bet territory,” he declares. “Three dates, and I bet that you don’t—”
I leap up, slamming my hand over his mouth. “Nope, not this time. Once ice burned, twice shy. I’m not taking a bet with you and ending up wearing a tutu, standing on a table, and singing ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”.”
Tentatively, I remove my hand from Cody’s mouth.
His lips twitch. “Shame because I love watching you do those things and I’m the King of Bets.”
“Anyway, I already have a bet going. Can I be the Queen of Bets?”
Cody looks like a proud parent. “I feel like I’m passing on the torch. What is it?”
“If my guys win the three opening games, then they serve me breakfast naked.”
Cody groans. “Here’s some betting tips, since you’re in serious need of them. Firstly, don’t make a bet that they want to win. Secondly, don’t make one that you don’t want them to fail. Thirdly, and this is the important one, don’t make a bet, where the outcome is ruled by chance or outside your control.”
“But you made a bet about whether I’d kiss a hockey player by the end of the season.”
Cody laughs. “The easiest dollar I ever made. It was guaranteed, before the words were even out of my mouth. I know you, Ryn. Funnily, it appears better than you know yourself.”
Rude, but since he won the bet in less than a week, also fair.
I stand and wander to the front window.
My eyes widen, when I see the car that’s idling at the bottom of the drive.
It’s a gorgeous, sexy as hell red (of course it’s red), vintage racing car.
Is it an Alfa Romeo?
“Boys and their toys,” I mutter.
Normally, sex toys.
This may simply be a penis extension.
I don’t know why D’Angelo thinks that he needs one. Perhaps, guys would even if they had an eighteen inch dick swinging between their legs like a pendulum.
“Have fun with the new toy then.” Cody winks, conspiratorially. “When Mike and I bought our SUV, we decided that the back seat needed thorough testing.”