Chapter 7 #2
"He's a good guy. Quiet."
“And the team? Are you happy with it? Playing here for the Eagles?”
"I always was, but having Cole here actually changed everything. Ex-NHL player coaching alongside Davies? I've learned more in the past year than I did in the previous five. They make a hell of a team."
"Sophie mentioned you've had offers from other teams."
Mac nodded. "A few. Better money, bigger leagues. But the contracts weren't enough to justify leaving. And honestly? This is home. The team's my family. Why would I leave that?"
Rachel looked at him with something that might have been relief.
They talked about Cole and Ellie's upcoming wedding, about life in a small town where everyone knew everyone's business. The conversation flowed easily, naturally, like they'd done this before.
After an hour, Mac worked up the courage to ask what had been nagging at him since yesterday.
"Can I ask you something personal?"
Rachel tensed slightly, her fingers tightening around her mug. "Okay..."
"Why did you seem so surprised yesterday? When I asked you out? Like you really couldn't believe I'd be interested?"
Rachel was quiet for a long moment, her expression carefully neutral. Mac waited, not pushing.
"I was in a relationship before. Derek he, Brad I mean—" she said finally, choosing her words carefully. "The guy, I mean. It ended badly." She glanced at her coffee. "I moved here from Burlington to start over."
Burlington. They had a hockey team there. Mac knew the team pretty well, the Eagles had played them many times. Brad… He could almost put a face to the name.
Mac bit his lip. "I'm sorry. That sounds really hard."
"It was." Rachel looked down. "And I guess I'm just... cautious now."
Mac wanted to ask more; who was he? What happened? Why did it end? But he could see Rachel pulling back slightly, her shoulders tensing, her guard going back up. He'd pushed enough.
"Well," Mac said carefully, "I'm glad you took a chance. Even if you're cautious. That took guts."
"Or insanity." Rachel's smile was small. "The jury's still out."
"Fair." Mac leaned back slightly. "For what it's worth, I get being cautious. But I want you to know; I'm here because I want to be. Not because I'm looking for something casual or temporary. I don't really do temporary."
Rachel glanced at him, something uncertain flickering across her face. "You barely know me."
"Then let me get to know you. At whatever pace you're comfortable with." He paused.
Rachel's expression softened. "You’re very understanding—"
"Cole gave me a detailed pep talk this morning about not being an idiot." Mac grinned. "Apparently 'don't rush her' and 'listen more than you talk' were key points."
"Well, is it working?"
"You're still here, so I think so?"
Rachel laughed, really laughed. "That's not exactly a high bar."
"I'm working with what I've got here." Mac smiled. "But really, Cole and Ellie are disgustingly happy together. It's simultaneously inspiring and nauseating. Cole's been insufferably wise about relationships ever since."
"Sophie told me they’re getting married. Ellie seems sweet, I’ve seen a few times around town."
"Yeah, Ellie's amazing. She literally saved Cole's career, shoulder injury that should have ended it, and she fixed it through physical therapy. They fell in love somewhere between the exercises and ice packs."
"That's very romantic."
"If you like that sort of thing." Mac paused. "Which I do. Apparently. I'm discovering this about myself."
Rachel smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. "Well, that's good to know on a first date."
"Does that mean there might be a second date?"
Rachel hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Maybe. Let's see if you can make it through this one first without knocking over any more furniture."
"That was one time. In the library. And in my defense, those chairs are very poorly placed."
"They're arranged alphabetically by section."
"Exactly. Very confusing layout."
Rachel laughed again.
The café door opened with a chime, and Jamie Lawson walked in. His dark hair was perfectly styled despite the March wind, and he wore that mischievous grin that meant trouble.
He spotted Mac immediately.
"No," Mac said under his breath, a sense of impending doom washing over him. "No, no, no—"
"MacKenzie! And Rachel the librarian!" Jamie strode over with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how unwelcome he was and didn't care. He slid into the booth next to Mac, forcing him to scoot over. "What a coincidence running into you two here!"
"Jamie," Mac said through gritted teeth. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Literally anywhere else?"
"I did. But then I saw you two through the window and thought, 'Jamie, you should definitely say hi and make sure Mac isn't being too awkward.'"
"That's the worst thought you've ever had. And you've had a lot of bad thoughts."
"Doubtful." Jamie turned to Rachel, flashing his most charming smile. "Rachel, be honest; how's the date going? Is Mac being weird? Because he practiced what to say in the mirror this morning."
"I did not—" Mac started.
"He absolutely did. I heard him when I stopped by his apartment. 'Hi Rachel, you look beautiful today.' Different inflections. Multiple attempts. It was adorable."
Mac wanted to sink through the floor and disappear forever. Maybe move to Alaska. Change his name and become a fisherman.
But Rachel was laughing, her hand covering her mouth. "You did not, Mac?"
Mac looked to the floor.
“Oh, you did,” Rachel cheeks flushed, “it’s very cute.”
"See?" Jamie clapped Mac on the shoulder hard enough to hurt. "She thinks it's cute. You're welcome for this wingman service. My work here is done. Enjoy your date!" He stood, winked at Rachel, and sauntered off to the counter where Sophie was waiting with what looked like his usual order.
Silence settled over the table.
Mac stared at his coffee cup, wishing it would swallow him whole.
"So," Rachel said, and there was amusement in her voice. "Mirror practice?"
"I'm going to kill Jamie."
"That seems extreme." She took a sip of her coffee, and Mac couldn't tell if she was embarrassed for him or entertained. Probably both.
"He's exaggerating. It wasn't—I mean, I didn't do multiple—"
"Mac." Rachel's smile was kind but there was something careful about it, like she was keeping a safe distance even while being nice. "It's fine. Really.”
"I just wanted to not mess this up," he admitted.
She glanced at her now-cold coffee. "This has gone cold, so that's a mess."
Mac stood quickly, grateful for something to do. "I can get you another one. What do you want?"
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"I want to. My treat. Since I invited you and my teammate ambushed our date."
Rachel hesitated, and for a moment Mac thought she might say no, might use this as an excuse to leave. But then she nodded. "Okay. Same thing. Latte with oat milk."
"Be right back."
Mac headed to the counter, where Sophie was already preparing drinks and very obviously not looking at him even though she was definitely aware of everything happening.
When he returned with a fresh latte, Rachel was looking at her phone. She put it away quickly when she saw him, but not before Mac noticed her expression; something tight and uncomfortable.
"Everything okay?" he asked, setting down her coffee.
"Fine. It was my mom." Rachel wrapped her hands around the warm latte. "She has impeccable timing."
"Do you need to call her back?"
"Definitely not." She said it firmly, then seemed to realize how that sounded. "I mean, we're not really talking much right now. It's complicated."
Mac wanted to ask more, but something in Rachel's posture told him not to push. She'd gone from laughing at Jamie's story to closed-off in the span of two minutes.
"Family stuff is always complicated," he offered.
"Yeah." Rachel took a long sip of her latte, clearly using it as an excuse not to elaborate. "This is good. Thanks."
"No problem."
They sat in slightly awkward silence. Mac scrambled for something to say that wouldn't be too heavy or too light or too—
"So," Rachel said, "tell me about this team of yours. Sophie mentioned you all hang out a lot?"
And just like that, they were back on safe territory. Rachel asking questions, Mac answering, the conversation flowing but staying carefully on the surface. Nothing too deep. Nothing too vulnerable.
Mac talked about the team, about game nights and team dinners and the ridiculous group chat that never stopped. Rachel listened, smiled, laughed at the right moments. But there was something careful about the way she held herself, like she was participating but from behind glass.
It wasn't bad. It just wasn't... open.
And Mac realized with a sinking feeling that getting Rachel to trust him was going to take more than one coffee date and a bouquet.
But at least she was still here.
They'd been talking for three hours when Mac finally glanced at his phone and realized how much time had passed. He'd finished three coffees, his pulse skyhigh. The pastry plate was empty. Other customers had come and gone, but for them, the world outside the café had disappeared.
"I should probably let you get back to your day," Mac said reluctantly, even though the last thing he wanted was for this to end. "Unless—I mean, we could get more coffee? Or walk around? Or—"
"Mac." Rachel's smile was gentle but firm. "I should go."
"Right. Yes. Of course." Mac stood up too quickly, nearly knocking over his empty mug. "Can I walk you to your car? Or wherever you're parked? I mean, if you drove. You might have walked. That's also fine. I could walk you home? Not in a creepy way, just—"
"Mac." Rachel was definitely fighting a smile now. "You can walk me to my car."
They paid, Mac insisted on covering both despite Rachel's protests that they should split it, and walked out into the late March afternoon. The sun was starting to lower in the sky, casting everything in golden light.