Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
FARRAH
I’m serving cake after the guests have eaten their main course and Bruce is keeping the buffet-style line running seamlessly. He ignores the gaping mouths of the men—and the bedroom eyes of the women—as they pass him. Probably wondering why D.C.’s star goalie is a glorified wedding attendant tonight.
My brother has always shied away from the spotlight, and I’ve always been very aware how uncomfortable the attention made him. I’m a sponge for people’s feelings and struggle not to internalize them. But where watching Remy always made me edgy and nervous, watching Bruce puts me at ease, and I keep finding myself smiling. He’s working the room like a pro, and it’s refreshing not to soak up another person’s nerves on top of my own.
I’m having more fun at tonight’s event than I have at any of our others, and I’m desperately clinging to that feeling instead of focusing on the words Bruce said out loud before the chaos began.
“Really? Are all your kisses like that one? Because it didn’t feel like just a kiss to me. It felt like the kiss.”
I didn’t even have time to give him a good reason why we can’t be together. I realize all my excuses seem silly to a person who hasn’t had his heart completely shattered by the one person they trusted to protect them forever. And I don’t trust my instincts anymore because of it.
My heart tells me Bruce is a great guy, and that he’d never intentionally hurt anyone, not even a creepy spider scurrying across his bathroom floor. I could picture him being like oh, hey Mr. Spider, how ya doing tonight?
But I also thought that about Connor. Except the spider part…Connor always hated spiders.
“How’s it going over here?” Andie’s voice makes me jump and she chuckles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You looked deep in thought.” Her eyes flit to Bruce. “I wonder what you were thinking about?”
“I was not thinking about Bruce, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” I say quickly, my voice defensive and negating what I just said.
She hums. “Okay. But he looks pretty good tonight. Not as hot as Mitch, obviously.” Andie smirks. “But he’s a catch, ya know?”
I smile at the next person in the line and hand them a slice of wedding cake.
I respond to my annoying friend through the side of my mouth, trying not to draw attention to our conversation. “I’m sure he’ll make someone a fine husband someday.”
Just then, Bruce turns and spots us talking and shoots us a brilliant smile. Pearly white teeth—courtesy of dental implants, I’m guessing. But still gorgeous no matter how they got there.
The earring in his left ear twinkles in the dim, romantic lighting and why is that little diamond stud so attractive? He’s wearing the hell out of those pleated high-waisted pants as well. They cling to a butt so fantastic it could only belong to a professional hockey player. It takes a lot of leg and glute strength to do what he does on the ice, and it’s hard not to stare.
I find myself wondering if he has any tattoos.
Beside me, Andie clears her throat. “You seem a little distracted, Farrah.”
I whip my head to look at her. “I’m sorry, did you need something? Because I think I have it covered over here.” I give her a polite smile and she laughs and holds her hands up in front of her.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing. I just adore you both and think you’d be a cute couple. But I promise I won’t mention it again.”
I love Andie, but I don’t believe for a second that she’ll never mention it again. There’s one friend in every group with no filter, and Andie is ours.
At around ten, the party is barely winding down. The wedding party is still on the dance floor, and the bride and groom don’t look tired.
I’m sitting behind the cake table, relieved to finally rest, when Andie marches over once more. She glances down at the watch on her wrist. “All right, I’m heading home. Bruce agreed to tear down and clean up.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Why would he agree to that?”
Andie grimaces. “Actually, we made a bargain a while ago and he owed me two favors. I used my last one tonight.”
“Bruce McBride owed you favors, and you used one on this ?” I would’ve saved those favors up forever, waiting for the perfect time to cash them in.
She grins. “Like I said earlier, I never get a night with Mitch without my brother around. I plan on staying up all night and enjoying it.” Andie winks. “I’m not wasting any energy tearing down tables and chairs.”
I snort an undignified laugh. “Fair enough.” I somber quickly realizing with absolute terror that this will leave me and Bruce alone in this building for hours tonight.
Andie’s expression turns sympathetic. “If you don’t feel safe with Bruce, I can stay. I’d never want you to be uncomfortable just so I can go have a night of unbridled passion.”
I laugh. “Who even says unbridled passion?”
Andie leans in. “That’s lingo they use in romance novels. Do you read?”
“I haven’t read a book in ages,” I admit.
“Oh, girl. I’ll send you a list of my favorites.”
“Okay.” I nod. “I’d enjoy relaxing with a good book.”
She rubs her hands together conspiratorially.
“Also, don’t worry about me, I know Bruce is harmless.” I pause, thinking of the right words. “It’s just that he flirts so much, and it…well, it makes me kind of nervous.”
Andie tilts her head and gives me another sympathetic gaze. “I get it. When a hot man flirts with us, it’s hard not to revert back to a sixteen-year-old.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes! I’m glad you get it.”
Andie leans in and gives me a hug. “All right, text me if you need anything, okay? I’ll keep my phone on.”
Bruce walks over from where he was conversing with a few of the groomsmen who are clearly big fans of his. “You heading home to Mitch The Machine?”
“Yes, I am,” she answers with a waggle of her eyebrows.
Bruce shakes his head. “You kids have fun. I’ll make sure everything is squared away here.”
“Perfect,” she says. “Just tear everything down and the rental company will pick it up in the morning. Easy peasy.”
With a wave, she’s off, and I’m left alone with Bruce McBride. He sits beside me in an empty, white folding chair and we watch as the bride and groom dance together.
“That’s the dream,” he says with a sigh. “Finding your person.”
I turn to look at him. “You’re a pro athlete, Bruce. I’d think it would be easy for you to find that.”
He shrugs. “It might be easy to find someone who wants to sleep with you, but it’s not easy to find that .”
I glance back at the bride and groom who are staring lovingly into each other’s eyes as a tender love song plays from the speakers. They’re locked in a sweet embrace for a slow dance and clearly blocking out the rest of the world. It looks like they would literally die for each other. It’s written all over their faces. And I realize Bruce is totally right, because Connor never looked at me like that.
Half an hour later, the bride and groom leave for their honeymoon, and the wedding guests quickly follow their lead and head home for the night.
I sigh in relief when everyone’s gone. Except the custodian who’s upstairs somewhere and, of course, myself and the giant hockey goalie.
Starting on the cake table, I place leftover cake back inside the boxes. I then follow Bruce around the room folding the black tablecloths he’s removing from each table he breaks down. His sinewy arms are made for this job, he quickly has half the tables stored on their racks.
I’m folding another tablecloth when he yells a word in French, something that sounds like merde . I rush over to him and see his finger is bleeding. Without thinking, I cup his hand in mine to get a better look. “Are you okay?”
He grimaces. “Yeah, sorry. I just pinched my finger in the table leg joint.”
“Ouch,” I say. “We have a first aid kit. I’ll grab a band aid.” I rush back to the cake table where I left the first aid kit with my purse. Mel insists on bringing this thing to every event, and I never understood why until now. It’s a minor injury, but we can’t have blood trickling onto the rental tables and chairs. Grabbing Neosporin and a bandage, I head back over to Bruce. He’s seated in a wooden chair that looks too small for him, and holding his finger up so it doesn’t bleed on anything.
I take his hand again, enjoying the warmth of his skin more than I should. It only takes a minute to bandage the finger, but I can feel Bruce’s eyes watching me closely. It’s hard to work under his scrutiny…er, appreciation, perhaps.
When I’m done, I move to draw my hand away, but he closes his hand around it. I look up at him and meet his gaze.
“Thank you,” he says, then slowly releases my hand, his fingers trailing along my wrist in the process.
The feel of his skin and the heat of his gaze are mesmerizing, making it hard to look away, but I force myself to. Swallowing, I step back and put some distance between us. He stands and finishes breaking down the round table that pinched the skin on his index finger.
We were working in amicable silence before, but now the air feels thick and uncomfortable. Too hot—or too something.
“So,” I say, breaking the eerie quiet in the formerly busy hall. “I’ve heard goalies are superstitious. Is that true?”
He huffs a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Afraid so.”
My eyebrows raise. “Really? What are your superstitions?”
He twists his lips to the side. “Can I trust you not to tell anyone?”
I roll my eyes. “You should know by now I can go a long time without telling secrets.”
His eyes twinkle. “True.” He sighs and stands a table up on its side. “First, my truck. My parents gave it to me right before a big game my senior year of high school. It was the best game I’d ever played. I still drive her to every game.”
“Her?"
“Porte-bonheur.” Bruce smiles, clearly still in love with his truck. “It means lucky charm.”
I laugh. “You think you’ll ever replace her?”
He shakes his head. “I know she’ll quit running eventually. But I’ll keep driving Porte as long as I can.”
“Where are you from again?”
“Quebec City.”
“Do you still have family there?” I ask, wondering if he misses them as much as I miss my parents. Even though they’re only a six-hour drive from here.
“I do. My parents live there, and so does my older sister and her husband and new baby.” He smiles fondly, but there’s something in his eyes that hints at more. Behind those charming blues, there’s a depth I’d never noticed before.
“That must be hard, being so far away.”
He nods and begins rolling the table toward the rack. “It is, but they come to a few games a year, and I try to get out there every summer.” Bruce lifts the large table onto the rack like it weighs nothing then strides toward the next table. “Besides, I have plenty here to keep me busy.”
“You mean your friends?”
“Yeah, but I also have a little brother here.” He sees my look of shock and laughs. “No, not like that. I’m his sponsor in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. I also got certified to do respite care…which is just really short-term care whenever his foster parents need a break. Sometimes he stays with me for a night or two.”
I melt instantly. I’m a puddle. Even my eyes are a mess, instantly feeling a little watery. “Really? When did you start sponsoring him?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Well, actually…I signed up soon after Amber and Remy got married.”
I study him, searching for clues as to why that would’ve spurred this man to volunteer and spend his spare time with a kiddo in need.
Bruce must notice my concentration, because he blows out a breath. “These guys are my family, ya know? And it sort of felt like everyone had a new family. Except for me. So, I figured why not help a kid who needs someone?”
Is this man literally perfect? No, of course he’s not. But if I thought managing my attraction to Bruce McBride after kissing him was hard…it’s ten times harder now.
“I completely understand that, actually,” I admit.
I understand more than he might realize. Especially after seeing that photo of all my friends back in Ohio. I feel like I’ve lost a piece of my heart and I’m starting over in every aspect of my life. I find myself wondering if Megan and I will ever talk again. Like really talk…not just exchange a few texts.
Even here in D.C., my new friends are amazing, but they’re all married and will likely have kids soon and be busy, while I remain a childless divorcee. I realize there’s more to life than marriage and kids… It’s just that that’s all I ever wanted. But I’m finding joy in discovering other things in life I’m passionate about, like baking and running this business with Mel. I’m finding peace in leaving behind old friendships and relishing in new ones. I’m finding contentment in being an aunt instead of a mom. This new life has grown me in ways I never thought possible, and I never would’ve expected it a few years ago, but I find that I’m grateful for the changes that were forced on me.
Bruce studies me. “Do you miss Ohio?”
I roll my lips, thinking of my answer. “It’s complicated. I miss my parents and my sister. But I don’t miss my ex.” I pause, thinking of Megan. “I miss some of my friends… I thought we’d stay in contact, but we haven’t. I’m starting to realize I wasn’t as important to my old friends as I thought.”
His blond eyebrows raise slightly. “You don’t talk to your old friends anymore?”
I sigh, allowing air to fill my lungs before blowing it out and steadying myself. “Do you ever feel like you’re the only one who’d actually leave your phone on all night in case a friend needed you? Right after my divorce, my friends used to tell me to call them if I needed to talk. But they never picked up when I called.” I swallow with difficulty, emotion beginning to well up in my throat. “I want people in my life who will be there for me. Day or night. The same way I would be there for them.”
His expression softens. “I’m sorry.” Bruce meets my gaze. “I know we’re not exactly best friends. But I’d leave my phone on all night for you, Farrah.”