Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JASMINE
Something I shouldn’t.
Those three words played over and over in my head.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Gabe’s gruff voice or the way his eyes flared when he said them.
It was the confirmation I needed that this wasn’t all in my head.
I’d had my doubts after that night in the trailer when I practically begged him to admit he felt something for me too.
But he’d pushed me away, refusing to confirm or deny my claims, but there was no misinterpreting those three words.
I hadn’t seen him much since then, but he’d offered to pick up my insulin from the pharmacy while he was in town yesterday.
When I opened the bag, nestled among the insulin vials was a box of Raisinets and a bottle of my coffee creamer.
He must’ve realized I was almost out and grabbed some without me even asking.
It had felt like an olive branch, like he was bridging the gap that had formed between us the last couple weeks.
Now that it was the weekend and time for another race, we were about to be in close quarters again.
This was my chance to show him we could be more, that it was worth exploring this thing growing between us.
To do that, I needed to get him out of the trailer, out of our usual environment and routine.
The perfect opportunity presented itself when my cousin Varen offered me two free tickets to his game.
I was competing in Richmond, Virginia where he played professional hockey.
When I messaged him to see if he wanted to meet up while I was in town, he invited me to watch him play.
I competed early enough in the day to make the 7:30 puck drop, so I accepted.
Now the trick was getting Gabe to agree.
“Want to go to a hockey game tonight?” I asked Gabe while tending to Juniper.
“A hockey game?” he asked, confusion knitting his brow.
“My cousin is Varen Kent. He plays for the Richmond Wraiths, and he offered me two free tickets to the game tonight,” I replied with a shrug as though I wasn’t waiting with bated breath for his answer.
Technically, he was my second cousin since Fern was his grandmother, but in our family, that distinction didn't matter because we were all close.
His eyes lit with recognition. “That name sounds familiar. I don’t follow hockey very closely, but I’ve definitely heard of him. Is his picture hanging up at Spokes & Spurs?” he asked, wearing a thoughtful expression as though a memory was trying to surface.
“Yep. He’s something of a local celebrity. He grew up not too far from Poplar Ridge, so the entire town roots for him when he plays.” I, along with our town, was so proud of my cousin. He was such an inspiration for chasing his dreams.
Gabe nodded, respect and admiration washing over his expression. “That’s impressive. I didn’t think the residents of our town could agree on anything,” he said with a chuckle. He was right. There was always some kind of drama or squabble among townsfolk. That was life in a small town for you.
“So what do you say? You coming with or should I go solo?” I asked just to watch his protective instincts flare to life.
There was no way he’d let me go by myself after he’d promised my dad he’d watch over me and keep me safe.
As if I couldn’t take care of myself. The only reason I didn’t travel alone was because I liked being a passenger princess and despised shoveling horse shit, not because I needed protecting.
But it gave my dad peace of mind to know I wasn’t alone on the road.
He had enough to worry about at home to be fretting over me.
“I’ll go,” he said with a shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “I’ve never been before. It sounds like fun.”
“Alright,” I replied, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. “Let me just go win this race real quick.” My big, cheesy grin earned me a chuckle, and the sound warmed my belly. It was deep and rich just like Gabe’s voice when he spoke.
“You’ve got some pretty stiff competition this time. You better go out there and run your heart out,” he instructed. So I did and I came away with another win, though he’d been right about the competition. I beat the second place winner by only six one hundredths of a second.
“That was an incredible run,” Gabe said as we settled Juniper into her stall.
“Let’s hope I can do as well tomorrow,” I replied as I prepared to rub her legs down with a cooling poultice.
“You could probably shave a few tenths of a second off your time if you can tighten up your turn around that last barrel.”
“Excuse me?” I replied indignantly. “If that turn had been any tighter, we would’ve bumped the bar—” I cut off when I noticed his teasing smirk. I gasped, my mouth falling open in disbelief. He was baiting me, and I fell for it.
“You jerk.” Dipping my fingers into the poultice, I playfully slung a glob of it at him. It hit him on the chin before sliding off and hitting him square in the center of his chest. His eyes widened in shock, and he looked down at where the gray goop clung to him.
“You brat. This is my favorite shirt.” He lifted his gaze to me, and a mischievous grin tipped up one corner of his lips as his eyes flashed with revenge.
Oh shit.
I bolted for the stall door, but just before I reached the threshold a strong arm hooked around my waist, and I was hauled back into a hard chest. I let out a squeal of surprise as my feet left the ground. Gabe swung me around, placing his body between me and the exit.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he declared, holding me to him. Wiping his fingers across his shirt, he picked up the poultice and brought it to my face.
“Don’t you dare,” I warned, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp. It was no use. My arms were pinned to my sides so I couldn’t bat his hands away. He took advantage of my defenseless state and smeared it across my cheek.
“Maybe this will cool that fiery temper of yours.” It felt good to have this playful relaxed version of him back. I’d worried I would never see him again. Despite my relief, I couldn’t let the offense slide.
“Doubt it,” I grunted, and he bellowed a laugh. The momentary distraction loosened his hold on me just enough to elbow him in the stomach. He let out a little oomph and released me, but continued to guffaw.
“Rory can hit harder than that,” he taunted.
I crossed my arms and stuck out my tongue which only made him laugh harder.
Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he stepped toward me.
“Here, let me clean you up.” He lifted his hand toward my face, then paused, sliding his gaze to mine.
I glared at him, daring him to come closer.
“You’re not going to try to bite or anything, are you? ”
A devious grin spread over my lips. “Why don’t you come closer and find out?
” I replied, eyes narrowed in challenge.
He shook his head, trying—and failing—to hide his amusement.
Even with the wet glob of clay on my face, I was having fun.
It was refreshing to be able to let loose and see Gabe’s playful side.
It was a nice change from the broody cowboy I’d grown accustomed to.
“I better not take any chances,” Gabe said and bent to pick up the bucket I’d dropped in my rush to get out of the stall. “You go wash up while I take care of Juniper, then we’ll head to the game.
“Alright,” I agreed, “but you better sleep with one eye open,” I added for dramatic effect. The sound of his throaty chuckle followed me out of the stall and down the aisle.
“Which one is your cousin?” Gabe asked as we watched the players warm up.
We had just found our seats and were settling in with our snacks when the team hit the ice.
I searched the sea of blue and silver jerseys, looking for his name.
Most of the players wore helmets, so it made it difficult to tell who was who.
“There,” I said, pointing him out. “Kent. Number sixty-eight. Apparently he wanted number sixty-nine, but they refused to give it to him.”
Gabe’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “That’s all the proof I need that he’s related to you.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad,” I proclaimed in mock affront, knowing damn well I gave my cousin a run for his money when it came to our sometimes crass sense of humor.
“Holy shit, you need to try this,” Gabe said after taking a bite of the decadent looking cinnamon roll he’d ordered to go with his burger and fries.
We hadn’t had time to stop for a proper dinner between finishing up at the race and heading to the game, so we were relying on concession stand fare.
Admittedly, it was much better than what was typically served at rodeos, though vastly overpriced.
Spearing a piece onto his fork, he lifted it to my lips, holding his hand under it to keep the icing from dripping onto my shirt.
His fingers brushed the underside of my chin when I opened my mouth to accept the bite, and our eyes locked and held as I chewed.
His gaze heated and dropped to my mouth when I licked a drop of icing off my lips.
Clearing his throat, he relaxed back in his seat. “Pretty good, huh?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Delicious,” I agreed, playfully snatching the fork from his hand. “Give me some more.” I scooped up another bite and popped it into my mouth. His eyes sparked with a mix of amusement and delight. “This is my cinnamon roll now,” I declared, jokingly. He snickered and shook his head.