Chapter Six
By Monday morning, I’d trained, showered, and made breakfast, but I kept looking through the glass doors every time I crossed the kitchen.
I’d left Chrishelle with her father and Vanessa Sunday night so they could finish talking without me standing in the middle of it. She’d said she would see me in the morning, and I believed her. That didn’t stop me from noticing how quiet the house was without her in it.
A little after nine, she knocked on the rear door.
I opened it and pulled her inside before she had much chance to say hello. Chrishelle laughed against my mouth, then wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed me back until I forgot that I’d been trying to act patient.
She’d changed into denim shorts and a pale tank, and her hair was still damp enough to darken the fabric where it touched her shoulders. When I let her breathe, she stayed against me.
“I wanted to come over before Dad and Vanessa got moving. We talked for a while after you left, and things are better now. Not magically fixed, but better.”
“That’s enough for one night.”
She nodded and ran her hands down my chest before settling them at my waist.
Sunday hadn’t changed what I wanted. If anything, watching Chrishelle finally tell everyone what she needed had made it simpler.
“I want to make sure you know I meant what I said about New York,” I told her. “I’m not interested in treating this like something that only works because our houses happen to be next door for a long weekend. I want to keep seeing you when we’re home.”
Chrishelle looked up at me for a moment before her smile returned.
“I want that too. Even with hockey travel, restaurant hours, and whatever my life looks like once I figure out what I’m doing next.”
I kissed her again.
“That sounds manageable.”
This time she smiled into the kiss, and Monday finally started the way I wanted it to.
Chrishelle stayed close for another minute before glancing toward the windows.
“I should probably go back before they decide I fled overnight.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
She considered it while smoothing one hand over the front of my shirt.
“Yes, but you don’t have to spend the morning there. I think Dad and I said everything important last night.”
That sounded good to me.
I followed her out the rear door and across the path between the properties.
The morning had warmed quickly, and sunlight cut through the evergreens in bright patches across the ground.
Chrishelle walked a few steps ahead until the trail widened near her father’s lot, then reached back without looking.
I took her hand.
Carlton and Vanessa were already in the kitchen when we came through the rear door.
Carlton stood at the island with a glass of water.
His phone lay facedown several feet away from him.
Vanessa sat on one of the stools, her dark hair pulled away from her face, looking far too alert for someone who had arrived unexpectedly the night before and walked into the middle of a family crisis.
Carlton looked at Chrishelle first.
“I haven’t made any calls.”
She stopped beside the island.
“Thank you.”
“I’m serious.” He left the phone where it was. “If you want me involved later, you tell me what you want from me. Until then, I’m staying out of it.”
Chrishelle’s fingers tightened once around mine before she released my hand.
“I’m going to spend some time figuring out what the restaurant actually looks like before I talk to anyone about money. I have the idea, but I need to get it out of my head and see what holds up once I start asking practical questions.”
Carlton nodded without offering a single name, contact, or shortcut.
“When you want me involved, ask.”
“I will.”
Vanessa lifted one hand.
“For the record, I have also made no plans.”
Chrishelle looked at her.
Vanessa held up the other hand. “I didn’t say I haven’t had ideas. I said I haven’t made plans. There is a difference, and I think I deserve credit for restraint.”
Chrishelle laughed.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. It has been difficult.”
Carlton shook his head, but the corner of his mouth moved.
That was about as much family conversation as I needed before lunch.
Chrishelle moved around the island and gave Vanessa a quick hug. When she reached her father, she paused, then leaned in and hugged him too.
Carlton held on for a second before letting her go.
No speech followed it.
Chrishelle stepped back, and the tightness that had been in her shoulders when we entered was gone.
“We’re going next door for a while.”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Chrishelle pointed at her without any real warning in it.
“Do not.”
Vanessa pressed her lips together and nodded.
I waited until we were outside before I looked at Chrishelle.
“What was she going to say?”
“I don’t know, and I intend to preserve that peace.”
I laughed and followed her into the trees.
When we reached my deck, Chrishelle went automatically toward the rear door. She raised her hand to knock, then stopped when I came up behind her.
“You know I’m standing right here.”
“I’m respecting the property.”
“When I’m home, you don’t need to knock every time.”
She turned.
I stepped past her and opened the door.
“If I’m here, come in.”
Chrishelle’s expression softened before she crossed the threshold.
“I’ll remember that.”
I closed the door behind us.
She headed toward the kitchen, but I caught her lightly around the waist before she made it more than two steps.
“One more thing. Bring whatever you need for tonight.”
Chrishelle leaned back against me, then turned in my arms. “You want me to stay?”
“Yeah. If you want to.”
Her smile started slowly before she said, “I want to stay.”
I bent and kissed her.
There was no urgency this time. I took my time with her mouth until Chrishelle’s hands slid up my chest and around the back of my neck. When I finally eased away, she stayed close enough that her lips brushed mine when she spoke.
“I should probably get clothes before you distract me into spending the entire day in this kitchen.”
“I’m not the one who turned the kitchen into a problem.”
She gave me a look, but I opened the door before the conversation could turn into an argument neither of us wanted to win.
Chrishelle was gone less than twenty minutes.
I was rinsing a glass at the sink when the rear door opened behind me.
No knock.
I looked over my shoulder.
She stepped inside with a small overnight bag over one shoulder and her laptop tucked against her side.
“I followed instructions.”
“I noticed.”
Chrishelle shut the door and walked past me toward the stairs as if she’d been doing it longer than three days.
I went back to rinsing the glass.
A few minutes later, she came downstairs without the bag and set her computer on the kitchen island.
“Can I work here for a while? I was thinking about taking over half your island.”
“That part seems inevitable.”
She smiled and opened it.
I pulled out the stool beside her, but Chrishelle shook her head.
“If you sit there, I’m going to talk to you instead of doing anything useful.”
“I can take a hint.”
She reached for my shirt and pulled me closer for a quick kiss. “I’m not getting rid of you. I’m attempting to be productive in your general vicinity.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Her smile widened. “For both of us.”
I left her to it.
She stalled at the blank page for a while. I filled my water bottle and went downstairs to stretch.
By the time I came back up, Chrishelle was still at the island.
The screen held more white space than words, and she had one hand pressed against her cheek while she read whatever she’d typed. A glass of water sat untouched beside her.
I crossed the kitchen, picked it up, and held it toward her.
Her attention moved from the glass to me.
“That was subtle.”
“You’ve been staring at the same few lines for almost an hour.”
Chrishelle took the water and drank.
“I have a lot of questions.”
I leaned against the opposite side of the island.
She angled the computer slightly toward herself, not hiding it so much as keeping me from trying to read over her shoulder.
“I know the food. Contemporary New American. I want the restaurant to be mine, and I want control of the menu and the kitchen. After that, every answer creates five more questions.”
“Then you don’t need all the answers today.”
“I know.”
She drank again and turned back to what she’d typed.
“I need to start with what I can actually afford, what kind of space makes sense, what the staffing would look like, and how much of the business side I understand versus what I need to learn. I’ve run kitchens. I haven’t opened a restaurant.”
“When you get to the build-out, I can help with that.”
She glanced up.
“I was going to ask you about that eventually.”
“Then ask me when you get there.”
“I will.”
That was enough.
I went to the refrigerator and pulled together something for lunch.
Chrishelle kept typing while I worked. I didn’t have her instincts, but three days around her had taught me enough to stop treating ingredients like separate obligations. I used what was left, kept it simple, and put a plate beside her after she finally closed the laptop.
She looked down. “You made lunch.”
“I’ve done that before.”
“Sunday was supervised by leftovers I had already improved.”
I took the stool beside her while she tried it. She took another bite before looking at me. “This is good.”
I smiled and turned to my own plate.
“Do not become smug,” she said. “You’ve had an intensive course.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
She gave me a look that made it clear she didn’t believe me, and I kept eating.
After lunch, Chrishelle reopened the laptop for another half hour, then shut it decisively.
“That’s enough.”
“Are you done?”
“For today. If I keep going, I’m going to pretend I have answers I don’t have yet.”
She slid the computer aside.
“I have somewhere to start. That’s all I wanted.”
I carried our plates to the sink. Behind me, Chrishelle stretched, then came around the island and leaned against my back.
Her arms circled my waist.
I rinsed the plates with her still attached to me.
“You know this makes washing dishes harder.”
“I’m comfortable with that.”
I turned off the water and faced her.
Chrishelle tipped her head back.
“What?”
Instead of answering, I put my hands on her waist and lifted her onto the edge of the counter.
She laughed as her legs parted around me.
“This is why I didn’t get any work done the first time I came into your kitchen.”
“The first time you came into my kitchen, you cooked dinner.”
“And then you kissed me.”
I kissed her before she could add anything else.
Chrishelle slid her hands into my hair and pulled me closer. The kiss heated fast, but neither of us was trying to turn it into another full afternoon in bed. I liked the way she relaxed against me when there was nowhere else either of us needed to be.
I kissed along her jaw once, then went back to her mouth.
She made a quiet sound and tightened her legs around my hips.
“That could become a problem.”
“You’re the one who put me on the counter.”
I helped her down.
Chrishelle smoothed her tank over her waist, still smiling.
“Come outside with me.”
We took water onto the deck and sat where the trees blocked most of the neighboring property from view. The afternoon was warmer than the morning had been, but the air stayed dry enough that the shade felt good.
Chrishelle stretched her legs across my lap.
I rested one hand on her shin and looked toward the trees.
She had spent Friday sneaking onto this deck because she thought nobody was here. Now her laptop was on my island and her overnight bag was upstairs.
I rubbed my thumb once over her ankle.
Chrishelle tipped her head toward me.
“You got quiet.”
“I was thinking about Friday.”
Her expression softened, and for a moment we sat without talking.
“Are you going back next door tonight?”
“No. I told Dad and Vanessa I’m staying here.”
I looked at her.
Chrishelle lifted one shoulder. “Vanessa was extremely normal about it.”
“That sounds suspicious.”
She laughed. “It was.”
She shifted closer, turning sideways on the chair so her knees pressed against my thigh.
“I’ll go over in the morning. Dad and I are fine. Better than fine, probably. He listened.”
I had seen that for myself.
“And I meant what I said about the restaurant. I don’t know exactly what it looks like yet, but I’m going to figure it out.”
“I know you will.”
Chrishelle reached for my hand.
I laced my fingers with hers.
We stayed outside until the shade deepened and the temperature started dropping enough that Chrishelle rubbed her bare arms.
I stood. “Come on. You’re cold.”
She gave me a look but got to her feet.
Inside, she went upstairs for a sweatshirt from her bag while I checked the kitchen. I had enough food for dinner without making anything complicated, and for once I didn’t need Chrishelle to tell me what to do with it.
She came back down in a lightweight sweatshirt and stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“Making dinner. I’m capable of feeding us.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“I know. I’m adjusting to the speed of your development.”
Chrishelle crossed the room, but instead of taking a stool, she came around the island and kissed me.
I put one hand at the back of her neck and kissed her again before letting her go.
She stayed beside me while I worked, but she didn’t take over. Once, she reached toward the cutting board, caught herself, and folded her arms.
I looked at her.
“This is physically painful for you, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
I laughed and kept going.
By the time we ate, the last daylight had faded beyond the windows. Chrishelle had abandoned the stool across from me and taken the one beside mine, close enough that her knee rested against my thigh.
After dinner, she helped clear the plates without turning cleanup into a lesson.
I loaded the dishwasher while she wiped the island.
Then there was nothing left to do.
Chrishelle set the towel down and turned toward me.
I’d spent most of my adult life knowing exactly when I had to leave a place. Flights, practices, games, team hotels, offseason training, camp. There was always another schedule waiting.
Tonight, I had nowhere else to be.
Neither did she.
I walked around the island and stopped in front of her.
Chrishelle looked up at me, still holding my gaze when I rested my hands at her hips.
“There’s one other thing.”
She waited.
“I’m falling for you.”
For once, Chrishelle didn’t answer immediately.
She stepped closer instead, slid both hands up my chest, and rose onto her toes until her mouth was almost against mine.
“I’m falling for you too.”
I kissed her, and Chrishelle wrapped her arms around my shoulders as I pulled her closer. When I finally eased back, she stayed against me, smiling.
“Good,” I said. “Because I want this to keep going in New York.”
Her smile widened before she kissed me again.
For the first time since the trade, I was looking forward to New York for reasons that had nothing to do with hockey.