Chapter 3
NORA
“Okay,” Alex says. “Take me to Rebel.”
He sounds more resigned than excited, but at least he’s willing to get in my truck. That’s definitely the first step.
But I want him to want to come to Rebel.
I know that might be pushing it. He was a professional hockey player for the best team in the league for the past two seasons.
He was a huge part of that success until his knee injury.
He was making millions. He had a great life in Portland.
I’ve seen the interviews and read the articles.
He’s downgrading to come to Louisiana.
Except, now he’s going to be a part of something new and fun and meaningful. He’s going to be a freaking hero in Rebel.
Eventually.
I have to hope that matters to him.
I look around quickly as we make our way toward the doors leading out to the parking garage. First things first—I need to keep him away from Leo, Brewser, and Wilson.
Those three men are like grandfathers to me, I would do almost anything for any of them, and they can be absolute menaces if anyone messes with someone they love.
I need to come up with a way to keep them from hazing Alex every day he’s in Rebel.
I need him to happily live in Rebel and play hockey for our new hockey team with his whole heart. I need him to make our new league a huge success.
“We need to go upstairs and then across to the parking garage,” I tell Alex. “We’ll just—” My foot hits the escalator at the same time I hear someone shout.
“Alex Olsen!”
Dammit! That’s Leo’s voice.
“Nora? Is that you?” I hear Brewser call.
I look back and make eye contact with Brewser. They’re about twenty yards away from the base of the escalator.
“Nora!” he calls.
“Nora, what are you doing?” Wilson yells.
“Crap!” I look up at Alex. “Come on!” I start walking up the escalator.
I feel Alex right behind me.
But Leo’s shout has drawn the attention of more people. Alex isn’t just some guy. He’s a famous hockey player. Ice in Louisiana is a very rare occurrence, but there are still plenty of hockey fans here.
“Alex Olsen?”
“Is that Alex Olsen?”
“Hey! That’s Alex Olsen!”
People on the escalator around us are turning. People on the descending escalator beside ours also turn to get a look. A few pull their phones out. Dammit.
“Excuse me,” I say to the man on the step in front of us.
“Are you really Alex Olsen?” he asks, not moving.
“No,” Alex says brusquely. “Excuse us.”
“Why’d that guy say you are?”
“I look a little like him,” Alex says.
He puts a big hand on my hip, still holding a duffel on his shoulder and the garment bag in his hand.
He moves me slightly to the side and moves onto the step beside me, his big body pressed against mine.
“Excuse us,” he says to the man, now a few inches taller than the man who is still a step above him.
“You are Alex Olsen!” the man says now that Alex is closer. “What are you doing here?”
Alex sighs and puts a shoulder into the man’s upper back, then with a hand on the man’s shoulder, turns him so the guy is facing the side of the escalator.
“Hey!” the man protests.
“Excuse us,” Alex says as he nudges me past the man, then gives the guy more pressure into the escalator railing as he passes.
“Jerk!” the guy says as Alex lets him go.
“Hey, you can tell your buddies that you scuffled with a hockey player and aren’t even bruised from it,” Alex says as he steps off the escalator behind me.
The man’s eyes widen. “So you are Alex Olsen.”
“Yeah.”
The guy smiles, and everything seems forgiven. Especially when he lifts his phone and snaps a photo.
Alex sighs and turns to me. “How do I look?”
I frown. “What?”
“I dressed myself. I didn’t think there’d be photos today. Will Lenny be mad?”
“Who’s Lenny?”
“My assistant. Lenore.”
“You look…” I sweep my gaze over him. Again, I ignore the dirt streak on the front of his shirt. He’s fucking gorgeous. He has a big, hot, climbable body. And I both wish he’d never kissed me and really wish he would again. “Great.”
He nods. “Okay. Good.”
I shake my head. “Come on.” I jog toward the walkway that leads to the short-term parking area.
He, of course, easily keeps up with me, even carrying his bags.
“Red truck,” I say, pointing as we run into the parking garage. I dash around the back of my truck to the driver’s side. “Throw your bag on top of that wooden crate, would you?”
“Are those flowers?” he asks as he tosses the bag into the truck bed.
“Yeah. And I lost a bunch on the drive up here.” The flowers had blown out of the back as I’d driven well over the speed limit and prayed for no cops.
“Alex! Nora!” Brewser yells from the doorway to the airport.
Damn, he moves fast for a guy his age. Especially one who’s had two knee replacements and who’s been brewing his own beer since he was fourteen.
“Get in!” I tell Alex. Then I glance over to see Leo and Wilson join Brewser. “I’m telling Bruce and Ellie on you! And you’re cut off from my banana pudding for a month!”
Brewer and Wilson’s eyes widen with alarm.
“Now cher—” Leo starts.
Yeah, they’re going to regret this. “I love you! See you at home!” I call, then slam my door
Brewser has his hands on his hips, frowning, but Wilson is just shaking his head, and Leo is laughing now.
I start the truck and pull out of the parking spot, heading in the opposite direction from where the men are standing. Three minutes later, I merge into the line of cars heading toward New Orleans and blow out a relieved breath.
I concentrate on traffic for several miles. I love New Orleans and visit regularly, but I absolutely prefer the lighter traffic and slower pace around my hometown.
Finally, we cross the bridge and turn toward Rebel. I relax in my seat, then glance over and realize Alex is watching me.
“You okay?” I ask him.
“What were you doing before you came to rescue me?” He looks over his shoulder at the truck bed.
“Gardening club. We were picking wildflowers we planted earlier this summer to use in art club next week.”
“You’re going to have a lot fewer to work with at art club.”
I look in the rearview mirror. “Dammit!”
His suitcase is keeping the flowers in one of the wooden crates, but the other is still open on top, and the flowers are being picked up and scattered by the wind.
“You sacrificed both the gardening club and the art club for me?” Alex asks.
I glance at him again. “I did.”
“I appreciate it.”
“You sure?” It’s not like he’d been enthusiastic about getting in my truck.
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Damn those tingles. I focus on the road. “I’m going to drop you off with Bruce at the apartment, but I need to find out if he knew about their plan.”
“Who’s Bruce?”
“One of my grandfathers.”
“Is he mad about the meet-and-greet and everything, too?”
I look over. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Alex winces. “I feel bad about it. I don’t really remember much about it, to be honest. I was in a lot of pain, the doc gave me some meds. I was pissed and worried and…” He sighs and shoves a hand through his thick, wavy dark hair. “Just not at my best.”
I nod. “I know. But Harley only expected five minutes of your time. You’re coming to a town where everyone is pretty generous and shows up for one another and just doesn’t let their own shit get in the way.”
Alex shifts on the seat, turning toward me more fully. “That night ruined my career. I only played four games this entire past season. And I didn’t get my contract renewed. That’s pretty bad, trust me.”
I look away from the highway to meet his eyes.
“Harley had a stroke, Alex. His impairments are permanent. He’ll never get back to one hundred percent.
And there’s now a guy who’s planning to take his job away from him because of it.
You can at least still play hockey even if it’s not at the pro level. ”
Alex is quiet for a long moment, then he says, “What’s his job?”
“He’s the mayor of our town.” My heart squeezes.
Harley has been a leader in our community his entire adult life.
Nothing means more to him than taking care of our town and the people in it.
“And now Sean Patrick, the I’m-too-good-for-this-little-hick-town asshole who couldn’t wait to get away from Rebel back when he was eighteen, has moved home and is running against Harley for mayor.
Worse, he’s using Harley’s stroke as a reason he’s no longer qualified to hold the position. ”
Alex groans. “The guy I snubbed with the meet-and-greet is the mayor of the town I’m moving to?”
“Yep.”
“Let me guess, he’s totally adored? He’s been the mayor for like ten years, and everyone thinks he’s amazing? It’s not just those three guys who are protective of him, right?”
I nod. “Right. Except he’s been Mayor for twenty-two years.”
Alex groans and tips his head back. “Of course, I fucking dissed the beloved mayor of the town I’m moving to.”
When he puts it that way…yeah, he should be a little worried.
I’m a little worried.
“You’ll be able to win them back over when you make the new team huge,” I tell him with a big smile that’s only half-forced.
“So, no pressure?” he says dryly.
I shrug. “You’re a big shot professional player. This will be a piece of cake, don’t you think?”
He sighs and sags into the seat. “I hope so.”
“It has to be,” I tell him, with more intensity than I intended. I take a breath. “This has to go well. We have to make this team the best thing that has ever happened in Rebel.”
I look over to find him frowning at me.
“Seriously? That’s…a lot,” he says. “This is minor minor league hockey. Everyone gets that, right?”
I shrug. “That doesn’t matter. If this season doesn’t go well, people are going to question whether Harley can make good decisions for the town anymore. Sean Patrick is going to win the mayoral election, and he’s going to buy the arena and turn it into an indoor fun zone.”
“What’s an indoor fun zone?”
I roll my eyes. “Like a climbing wall, mini golf, arcade, laser tag.”
“That does sound fun.”