Chapter 17
Emee
Yesterday the farmhouse.
Today, my first hockey game. VIP no less.
Life is so strange. I have a new appreciation for this sport.
I’ve been in the VIP booth since before the game started, and when I watched King glide out on the ice, raising his stick in the air pointing towards me?
Everyone an the crowd turned to look up. They even put my face on the Jumbotron screen and the whole thing felt surreal.
I felt like a celebrity or a queen.
As well, that whole warm-up routine he did? Down on the ice, knees wide, stretching?
Oooooh, holler. And this time, I am not, not talking about the dating app.
The past couple days have been a whirlwind of highs, with no lows.
First, taking me to River Valley Farm and understanding my dreams were on the cusp of coming true? I’ve been walking on clouds and I never want to come back to earth.
The inside of the farmhouse smelled musty, which is to be expected since King’s left it empty all these years, but it was solid and it had everything.
There were a lot of reminders of his parents: family photographs, his mom’s wardrobe filled with clothes, his dad’s boots by the back door. I felt it was a bit of an unhealed wound for King. But I’ll help him. Together, we’ll make it into our home, and we’ll never forget them.
Like he says about me, I want him to tell me everything about him, and his parents. Memories. Good and bad. I want it all with this crazy man that has oiled up the stiffest parts of me and made me realize a little chaos can be good for the soul.
I can’t wait to tell our children all about the house and the memories their wild father had there.
God, I can’t believe I’m thinking about children.
I watch a boy of maybe ten or eleven, jostling against other people in his rush to get to a seat down below, his parents falling behind as he races ahead, and I smile. That could be us one day.
Tomorrow, I’ll take clients at the hotel again. King has ordered a security guard and is having a temporary system set up in the suite. It’s so overboard but in a secret way, I love his crazy protective, alpha side.
No one’s ever put me first like he does and I’m not mad.
Besides a couple of massive guys hanging around outside the door of the VIP suite, I’m alone. King warned me that might happen, but it might fill up later depending on what players gave out passes. But right now it’s just me and I get to watch my man lead his team into the playoffs.
I don’t know much about hockey, but I can tell King is playing well by the way the crowd is screaming his name and cheering.
I do know what shooting a goal means, and when he does the stadium literally vibrates under my feet with the screams and chanting and foot stomping.
All in his name.
King. My King.
As the game plays on, it’s clear, this man is an absolute phenomenon. That whole thing about sex being a bad luck for him can kiss my ass. He plays so well, I’m not even sure he needs the rest of his team around him.
But, I’m biased.
I watch his teammates thumping him on the back, and I see the other team’s coach pointing and screaming toward King, who skates backwards, chewing on his mouth guard like he’s just taking a loop around the rink at Rockefeller Center at Christmastime.
The game plays on and every few minutes King is throwing a wave my way, making sure I’m included in his win as I whistle and scream his name until my voice is lost and my love for him multiplies, seeing him in his element.
It’s pure magic. He’s right. He was made for this sport.
When the final whistle blows, I’m jumping and pushing my way through the now-crowded booth toward the door, wanting to get down to him. To help him celebrate and tell him how proud I am of him.
I am caught up in a group as I step outside the box, the two big guys hanging in the hallway take special interest in me as I look this way and that, trying to see through the crowd which way I should go to get down to the ice.
Before I figure it out, my phone vibrates in my back pocket, and something makes me hesitate.
Maybe it’s that I don’t want this moment to end. I don’t want the spell broken. Or maybe it’s a sixth sense. I haven’t heard from Benjamin in a while.
Part of me wants to ignore the call, and ride this adrenaline wave as far as it can go.
Trouble is, I’m still me. Responsible Emee.
I look at the number, and it says Sutherland Suites, and a new wave of excitement charges through me.
Maybe my suite is almost ready. Maybe I can come back soon.
This day just gets better and better.
“Hello?” I answer, holding the phone tight to my ear, pressing a finger on my other hand into my ear, straining to hear over the revelry and celebration going on all around me.
“Emee? It’s Jack, security from Sutherland Suites.”
I grin, yep, I bet everything is getting sorted there faster than they thought.
“Hey, Jack!” I press against the wall as people mill around me. “What’s up? Is my office ready?”
“That’s what I’m calling about… Look, Emee, someone deliberately set off the alarm and sprinklers. And… I think I found out who. Well, I don’t think, I know who.”
“Good. I hope they get locked up.” I’m not normally so harsh, but Jesus, that goes beyond a practical joke. I was scared, but also, so much damage was done. I’m still waiting to see if my insurance will cover the rebuild and the contents.
“Emee, it’s… I haven’t told the investigators yet. I wanted to speak to you first. It was one of your clients.” He draws a breath. “Emee, it was King Hertzof.”