Chapter 14
~Deacon~
My car’s dashboard screen lights up with an incoming text message as I turn the engine on, ready to head to the arena for our first official practice of the new season. When I see River’s name appear, I press the screen to hear the message out loud.
Just double checking that I don’t need to bring anything?
“Just show up,” I dictate out loud as I back the car out of the garage.
The heated garage is one of the luxuries I still appreciate even after living in this house for a few years.
At this time of year, the heat isn’t really necessary, but come winter, it’s a lifesaver. “All your equipment will be there.”
We already had this conversation last week, but I get that he’s nervous and doesn’t want to mess up. I also appreciate that he’s taking the initiative to make sure he has it right.
And the fact that I’ve taken the kid under my wing and given him a bit more attention than I usually would for a new player is because I like that initiative, that eagerness, and has nothing at all to do with who his mother is.
Sure, Deke. You keep telling yourself that.
I haven’t laid eyes on Daley Adams since the first night of the draft in Las Vegas.
Her declaration that night that what happened between us can’t happen again seems to have been in earnest. She’s made no attempt to contact me, though she could have easily sent a message through River if she wanted to.
I haven’t contacted her either, trying to respect the boundary she set even though she still crosses my mind far more often than she should.
That restraint doesn’t stop me from hoarding every stray mention of her that River makes, for reasons I don’t fully understand.
“My mom loves that movie,” he said once when he called during a workout where I had A Few Good Men playing in the background.
“My mom took me there when I was little,” he mentioned when I told him the team often did a holiday promo at Wall Drug, the famous tourist trap on the other side of the state.
“My mom taught me,” he grinned when we went out for Chinese food one day and he wielded his chopsticks with far more dexterity than I’ve ever managed and I asked him how he got so good at it.
I never dared to ask for more details, but I tucked those tidbits away into the back of my mind, just in case they’d come in handy later.
Handy for what? I have no idea.
The attendant at the parking booth outside the rink’s parking lot waves me through with a smile when I drive up with my window down. “You guys going to go all the way this year, Deke?”
“We’ll do our best,” I promise.
Strictly speaking, there are no reserved parking spots for the players outside the team entrance, but unofficially, the guys always leave a particular one open for me. I steer my red Bentley Continental GT into the space and get out just as River Adams walks up.
He lets out a low whistle as I unfold myself from the driver’s seat. “Nice ride.”
“Thanks.” I don’t splurge on a lot of big-ticket items, but I couldn’t resist this car when I got my first big paycheck. I’ve had her for almost ten years but she’s in great shape. “Did you splash out on something new yet?”
“Upgraded my truck,” he says, slowly circling the car as he takes in every detail. Pride warms my chest as he bends down for a better look. The kid has a good eye. “How does she handle in the snow?”
“I don’t take her out of the city much in the winter,” I admit. “Too busy travelling with the team anyway, but you can’t have a better road trip car in the summer. I drove myself down to Vegas for the draft back in June, it was great.”
That wasn’t the only thing about that trip that was great, but I can’t tell him that part.
We trade a few more car stories as we walk in together, and I almost don’t notice the blonde woman at the security desk inside the front door until River calls out to her.
“Mom!”
Daley turns, her smile bright and her eyes warm, and my stomach does this strange kind of flip that I’m not sure it’s ever done before.
Somehow, she looks even better than I’d remembered.
She dressed down today, casual in a light cream sweater and jeans with brown boots, like she’s heading out for a photo shoot in a forest filled with a kaleidoscope of fall colours.
Her hair’s a little longer than the last time I saw her, long enough that I could wrap it around my fist if I wanted to.
Which is a wholly inappropriate thought. Pull yourself together, Deke.
I knew she’d be here today. I thought I was ready for it, but seeing her again in person and not just in my memory requires a whole other level of restraint.
It only takes her a second to register me standing there beside her son. Her brilliant smile falters for just a moment before she turns the wattage up even brighter.
“Hi! You boys ready to get to work today?”
Her calling me a ‘boy’ shouldn’t be hot. It really fucking shouldn’t, especially when I know she’s doing it to try to put some distance between us, but my body reacts to it anyway. Blood pumps to my groin but I manage to smile back in an almost natural way.
“I hear you’ve got some sugar for us.”
I don’t mean it to come out the way it does, deep and rumbly, but the tone of my voice definitely lends the words a dirty edge. I know Daley hears it too when pink begins to bloom in her cheeks.
Thankfully, River seems completely oblivious. He strides over to his mom in three large steps, bends to kiss her forehead, and grabs the bag from her hands. “I’ve been telling Deke how good your cookies are.”
“They’re really not that special,” she protests, giving me an adorably sheepish shrug. “He’s a little biased.”
I might be a little biased too. “I guess I’ll have to judge for myself. Come on back, most of the guys should be here.”
As I turn away, I use the opportunity to subtly adjust my pants, willing the blood to return to my brain. Mother and son chat as they follow me, and I manage to catch that Daley’s going to stay to watch the practice and she’ll be spending the night at River’s new apartment tonight.
My body has managed to calm down by the time we reach the dressing room, but I immediately run into a new problem when we walk in and every pair of eyes in the room looks right past me and zeroes in on the gorgeous woman behind me.
Fuck. I’ve been so focused on my own reaction to Daley, I forgot to worry about the rest of the team ogling her.
From the curious, openly interested looks on their faces, I don’t think her age is a problem for them either.
Our locker room is top-of-the-line. High ceilings soar above a circular design that means we’re never too far away from any of our teammates.
We can see each other at all times when getting ready at our stations, each with our names and numbers above our individual bay.
Mine is opposite the door, in the centre, where I can keep an eye on things and where everyone can see me when they come in should they need anything from their captain.
A few places are still empty, but the majority of the team are already here. Thankfully, no one has started changing yet.
“If anyone hasn’t met him yet, this is River.
” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder, resisting the urge to look back and take another look at Daley for myself.
“We also got Scott over there, and Jeremy.” Our other two new draft picks wave from their spots where they’re already fiddling with their equipment.
“Sven’s joining us from New York and Patrick from Seattle.
If there’s anyone you haven’t met yet, go ahead and introduce yourselves, we don’t stand on ceremony here. ”
The men shuffle in their spots, several of them exchanging glances.
“Think you forgot someone, Deke,” our goalie, Alex, calls out, his eyes still seeing right through me.
My voice turns gruffer than I’d like it to. “River can introduce his guest.”
To his credit, the kid steps forward, into the middle of the room, while I throw myself onto my seat, nodding at the men on either side of me, my usual linemates Erik and Jorn.
“Hey, everyone. This is my mom, Daley. You can call her D, all my friends do. Every year since I started playing, she’s brought cookies to the team on the first day of practice and I didn’t want to break that tradition. Deke said it would be okay.”
His gaze moves to me in search of confirmation and I nod in agreement. “Don’t go too crazy before our workout, but I’m sure as hell going to try one.”
“Are they homemade?” Steve, one of our veteran defencemen, asks.
“What kind are they?” the rookie Scott adds. Several of the men lean forward eagerly, and I see the way the tension in River’s shoulders eases at their acceptance of his offering.
“They were made just this morning, and we call them ‘magic cookies’.” Daley’s wide smile is back, and half the room smiles back at her out of instinct.
“They’re basically a whole lot of chocolate and sugar.
There are also eggs, butter and flour, so if anyone doesn’t want those, I have a vegan, gluten-free alternative. ”
From the bag River’s carrying, she produces two large, round tins, and River helps her to remove the lids before they start going around the room, offering the goodies to the assembled group.
The tins are huge; I’d wager there must be almost a hundred cookies inside.
Everyone’s polite and grateful, but I don’t miss the glances being shared around the room, particular when they get a look at her ass in those jeans, or when they come eye-level with her breasts in that cream sweater.
At least my jealousy over my teammates getting to even look at her helps to keep my own arousal under control.
When Daley and River get to me, I take two of each kind of cookie, using a napkin from the pile stacked inside the tin. She thought of everything.
She’s close enough that I can smell her perfume when our eyes meet again. “I hope you like them,” she says softly.
“They might not be the best thing I’ve ever tasted, but I bet they’ll be close.”
Again, words leave my mouth without me consciously deciding to say them, and Daley drops her gaze, her cheeks flushing again as she moves on to Erik next to me.
When everyone has some cookies, most of the team already munching on the treats and calling out their compliments on her baking, Daley waves from the door. “River has the rest if anyone wants more. Eat them all, I don’t want to take any home. Have a great season. Nice to meet you all.”
“Bye, D! Thanks.” Various men call out their goodbyes as River finds his place in the room, taking a moment to drink in the sight of his name on the wall before taking a seat.
“So, uh, couldn’t help noticing your mom doesn’t wear a ring,” Jake, one of our forwards, says from across the room. “Any chance you’re looking for a new dad?”
The room erupts in laughter, especially since Jake is only about three years older than River.
River takes the teasing in good humour, and since the guys stay on the respectful side of appreciation, I keep my damn mouth shut.
This is one conversation I’m going to stay well out of.