7. Dawson
CHAPTER 7
DAWSON
Don’t think. Just react. It’s been drilled into me ever since I started seriously focusing on hockey.
So when Emmy stepped in front of that car, my heart dropped out of my chest and my body reacted like a ripcord had been pulled. I didn’t care if I took the full impact. I couldn’t let anything touch her.
Years of honing my reflexes at the net made me leap in front of that vehicle. I didn’t think about what it could do to my hockey career if I got hit. I wasn’t thinking of anything but her.
The first time Dan brought me to Maple Falls for fall break, I knew she was off-limits. There’s an unspoken rule that guys have involving dating their best friends’ sisters. But then Dan set me up for failure by saying, “ Don’t let her out of your sight .”
Easy enough. I couldn’t stop staring at her. And Stewart was getting on my last nerve.
When she bolted afterward, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d done.
Did I ask too many questions? Or was it the fact I’m a hockey player—a guy who will always travel for a living and never have soft hands?
“Hey, Dawson, you ready?” Dan asks as I lace up my skates.
Some guys are already on the ice, warming up by circling the rink. It’s been my dream to work with these players, some of the best in the NHL. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’d jumped at the chance to return to see Emmy. Some part of me believed that she’d remember the dating pact. Even though she turned me down before, I figured that was only because her brother warned her against dating me. But Emmy’s older now and on her own. I hope she’ll give me a chance.
My phone rings on the bench. It’s my dad, and he only calls when it’s business.
“Give me a second,” I say, pointing to my phone.
Dan nods and then skates off.
“Hey, Dad, I’m just starting practice. What’s up?”
“Is this for the charity gig? The one I said wasn’t worth your time?”
I move away from the ice so no one will overhear. I lower my voice. “It’s not just about the money.”
“Hockey players have limited lifespans within the sport. You’re wasting it on charity games when you could be starting your NHL career.”
So you’ve reminded me, a million times over.
I cradle the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Why are you calling? I need to start practice.”
“To remind you that the only good part of this charity gig is the media exposure. It’ll fix your reputation after that stupid argument with the photographer. There’s a big media event after your practice today and a press conference after every game.”
I sigh. “I know, Dad.”
“Have you been invited to the Harrisons’ party?”
“How did you know about that?”
“Saw it online. They’re inviting people who may want to hire you for a sponsorship deal. You want to be rubbing shoulders with those folks.”
I let out a very obvious sigh. I’m not out to create an image of myself as a famous guy. That’s never appealed to me.
I watch as Noah and Cooper pass the puck back and forth, then Noah slaps it toward the net with perfect precision. I’m not in front of the goal to block the shot, because my dad is lecturing me. Again. One of the coaches named Scotty gives Noah a fist bump as he skates by. I hate that I’m not out there with the team, proving I deserve to play with these guys.
“Did you hear me, Dawson?” Dad asks.
I haven’t heard a word. “What?”
“I said, if you get invited to the Harrisons’ party, I’ve lined up a date for you. She’s ready to fly there tomorrow.”
“Not another hired date,” I groan.
My dad knows this lady who runs a dating service for people who need guests for special occasions. Apparently, celebrities and high-profile athletes use it for red-carpet events and big galas. But I hate every second of it. The women. The cameras. The online comments.
Dad, on the other hand, thinks this is the best thing ever for my career. Because every time I’m photographed with a woman, public interest in my hockey career skyrockets.
In the background, Dad shuffles through some papers. “What’s not to like? There’s no commitment, no messy relationship stuff. It’s the easiest date you’ll ever go on.”
“No,” I mutter. I don’t want an easy date. I want a date who will make me laugh. Who is interesting. Someone I don’t have to put on a show for.
“You can’t go to the Harrisons’ alone,” he argues.
“I’m not,” I say, pausing. “I already have a date.”
The pause is so long, for a second I think my dad has hung up. “Who?” he finally asks.
“Remember Dan Roberts, my college buddy? It’s his sister, Emmy.”
I watch as Dan sends a practice shot to Ted. Both of them race down the ice, passing the puck back and forth. Finally, Ted sends the puck into the goal.
Another shot I could’ve blocked if my dad wasn’t interfering in my life again.
“Dating can get messy,” Dad says. “Love is the last thing you need this fall. You’re headed to the NHL next. Don’t blow it on some girl.”
Emmy is not some girl. I’d rather have a messy relationship with Emmy any day of the week than go out with a pretty stranger.
I just have to convince her first.
Our first three practices are intense. The team shoots pucks at me with the intensity of a round of bullets. These guys are no joke. To my relief, I hold my own at the net, and Coach Strickland even gives me an approving nod afterward. He’s a man of few words, so I don’t know if he actually likes me or is putting up with me because I was a last-minute addition. But Coach Scotty puts me at ease. “You’re doing great, Dawson,” he assures me. Scotty is also a former hockey player and often joins us in the locker room.
I breathe a sigh of relief. As soon as I walk into the shower room, I notice how quiet it is. Strangely quiet.
Since I haven’t played in the NHL before, this is my first time in the big leagues. It’s not until I’m out of the shower that I notice no one will look directly at me. That’s when I know something’s up.
When I open my locker, I discover why. My shoes are missing. I scan the locker room and then head into the men’s restroom, where I discover my shoes tied together and hanging over a urinal.
“Okay, who’s the wise guy?” I ask, holding up my white sneakers when I return to the locker room.
Everyone bursts into laughter. “You finally found them,” Ted says with a grin.
“I hope no one relieved themselves while these were in the splash zone,” I warn.
“Don’t worry, we have great aim,” Noah says.
“Welcome to the NHL!” Dan shakes my hand. “I made sure your shoes were safe and dry.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
Even Cooper is laughing, and that guy never smiles.
“Every guy in here got pranked when they moved up to the NHL,” Ted says. “It’s tradition on most teams. We heard the news you’re moving to Seattle’s team after this. Congrats, man.” Ted slaps me on the back.
“Thanks.”
“Just wait until you start dating someone,” Dan says, elbowing me. “You’ll never hear the end of it.”
This doesn’t make me feel better about going out with Dan’s sister. It’s one thing to have the guys tease you, but it complicates things when it’s your best friend’s sister.
“Just be glad your shoes weren’t in the toilet,” Noah says.
“That’s the next prank,” Ted adds.
“You guys are the worst.” I slide on my shoes before they can come up with something more devious. “How am I going to survive the next two months?”
“Have you tried living with a twelve-year-old girl?” Scotty asks. “Hockey guys are nothing compared to a pre-teen.”
“Okay, that is scarier.” I give Scotty a sympathetic smile. I don’t know how he raises a daughter while coaching hockey, but I give him a lot of credit.
Even Cooper with his permanent scowl offers a slight mouth quirk that I assume is his attempt at smiling. “Don’t worry, getting pranked means you’re one of us now.”
“As long as you don’t steal my skates next,” I add, hauling my bag over my shoulder. I barely have enough time to make it to the bookstore for book club.
“Several of us are headed out for pizza. Wanna come?” Noah asks.
I glance around to make sure Dan’s already left. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. I’m headed to the bookshop.”
“You’re choosing books over pizza?” Noah furrows his brow. “Why?”
“I think I know why,” Ted says with a grin. “Dan’s sister.”
Scotty gives a low whistle. Cooper doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head like this is a bad idea.
“We’re just friends,” I explain with a straight face. “We met during college, when Dan brought me home for fall break.”
“College friends? That’s even worse.” Noah laughs.
Scotty raises an eyebrow. “Is she the kind of friend who could turn into something more?”
“We like to hang out and talk about books. That’s all.” I’m trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. I like my new teammates, but I don’t want them harassing me about having a girlfriend. Especially when that woman is Dan’s sister.
“Does Dan know?” Cooper asks.
“No, because there’s nothing going on between us.”
“You might want to tell him before you make a move,” Noah advises. “Otherwise, things can turn ugly very quickly.”
Why are these guys giving relationship advice when I’m not even dating?
“I’m not planning any moves, ” I grumble.
“That’s what they all say,” Noah says as I head out the door.
I rush to the bookshop with a few minutes to spare, hoping I beat Stewart there. As I pull up on my motorcycle, two women exit the shop giggling. One is Cooper’s publicist Blair, followed by Keira. They both stare at me like they’ve never seen a man at a bookstore before.
I wave to them and they return the greeting and hurry away. Ever since we arrived in Maple Falls, Dan hasn’t stopped talking about Keira. She was his high school sweetheart who broke his heart, and from what I guess, the one he still holds a flame for.
I reach the door at the same time as an older lady I vaguely recognize.
“After you,” I say, holding the door open for her. “Wait! You’re the lady that almost hit Emmy.”
Her cheeks color with embarrassment. “I am,” Mary-Ellen admits. “Are you still feeling okay from the tumble?”
“Never better,” I assure her.
Her eyes swing over my outfit—flannel shirt and jeans—and I suddenly question my choice of apparel. I’d hoped to look like a local since there’s a distinct chill in the fall air. But now I just feel like someone who’s trying to look like they fit in, without actually fitting in.
“I love a man in flannel,” she whispers like it’s a salacious statement. “I wish I could find a hockey man.” Judging from the glint in her eyes, I hit the mark for the over-sixty set. Not my target audience, but I’ll take her vote of confidence.
“Are you coming to book club?” I ask, following her inside.
“Yes. Are you here to see Emmy?”
“Actually, I’m here for book club.”
Mary-Ellen stops. “But we’ve never had a man join us before.” She looks like she’s about to have a heart attack.
“I’m just checking it out before we do the hockey book next.” My eyes swing around the room, but Emmy isn’t here yet. Unless Stewart already has her trapped in the back.
Jealousy heats inside my chest.
“Mimi, we have a visitor!” Mary-Ellen announces, and all the women in the store turn to stare at me.
A woman with silver-grey hair makes her way over. I immediately recognize her as Emmy’s grandma.
Mimi gives me a warm smile. “Well, if it isn’t Dawson Hayes!” She wears a flowered dress in deep orange and looks exactly the same as I remember, down to the pearls around her neck. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Hello, Mrs. Roberts,” I say. She wraps me in a hug before I have time to explain.
“Don’t call me Mrs. I prefer Mimi. I’m not that old.” She gives me a quick wink. “You want to hang out with a bunch of silver-haired ladies tonight?”
“Speak for yourself, Mimi. I’m bottle-blonde!” a distinguished woman announces with a laugh, touching her bleached hair.
I look at Mimi. “Emmy told me you’re reading a hockey book next.”
“Does this mean you’ll be our special guest for the next book club?”
I shrug. “If you’ll have me.”
“Oh, we’ll have you!” She wraps an arm around my waist and gives me one of those grandmotherly squeezes from the side. “I hope you’ll come over for dinner now that you’re in town, Dawson.”
All the women are gawking now. I feel like the grand champion pig at the county fair.
The blonde woman gasps when she recognizes me. “Are you Dawson Hayes? The hockey goalie?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, somewhat embarrassed by the attention. “And you are?”
“Noreen Harrison. My husband and I own the bookstore.”
Stewart’s mother. I make sure my face doesn’t show any reaction, even though I’m not a fan of how the Harrisons have treated Emmy. “You’re our first male guest.”
“So I heard.” That’s not a good sign, but I’m committed now.
She hooks her arm through mine and leads me to a group of chairs toward the back.
“Have you seen Emmy yet?” I ask.
“That girl is always running late,” Noreen complains. “She’ll probably use her car again as an excuse. One person can’t have that many car problems, can they?”
“Have you seen Emmy’s car?” Mimi asks with a lifted brow.
She must not have reliable transportation. Something I need to fix while I’m here.
Mimi places her hand on my elbow and pulls me away from Noreen. I feel like I’m part of a silent tug-of-war match between Noreen and Mimi, while the others eye me like I’m a juicy ham for Sunday dinner.
Mimi clears her throat. “You should really sit by me tonight. It would be interesting to hear your thoughts on tonight’s book.”
“But I haven’t read it yet.”
Mimi leans toward me and whispers, “Neither has half our group. They only come for the gossip.”
She shoves a book into my hands called Forbidden Love. I flip to the back cover where the description says it’s an “age-gap romance.” This is almost as bad as To Woo a Duke.
“Do you like romance?” Mimi asks with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Excuse me?” I cough, suddenly feeling my face heat. What kind of book club is this? Maybe this meeting is just an excuse to discuss the town’s latest dating gossip.
“The book,” she says sweetly, pointing to Forbidden Love.
“Oh. I thought you meant do I personally like...”
“I know what you thought,” she finishes. “Since you brought it up, are you seeing anyone?”
My mouth falls open. “Um...” I don’t know how to explain to Mimi that I don’t do age-gap romances.
“I’m not asking for me!” she explains with a laugh. “For the young women in town.”
“Oh, right,” I say with relief. “I’m not dating anyone right now.” How can I drop a hint to Mimi there’s only one woman I’m interested in?
The back door of the shop swings open, and Emmy rushes in, her eyes darting wildly around the store. “Sorry I’m late! My tire was low again, so I had to stop at the gas station.”
“See what I mean?” Noreen grumbles under her breath.
Why is she driving around with a low tire?
“Perfect timing,” Mimi says. “We were ready to embarrass our guest of honor.”
“What guest of honor?” Emmy’s eyes circle the group and land on me. Her face blanches. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for book club. I told you I was coming.”
Her eyes sweep over my flannel shirt, and she blinks rapidly.
Emmy turns to Mimi with an accusatory look. “Okay. What did you do to him?”
Mimi’s mouth curves into a wicked smile. “You should’ve seen his face when I said we were going to discuss an age-gap romance called Forbidden Love !”
Emmy shakes her head at her grandma’s antics. “You can relax, Dawson. We’re not discussing that book. This one is trouble. First time I held book club, she brought salsa so hot, tears were running down every face.”
“I told her it was the book’s fault. It was a real tear-jerker.” Mimi smiles proudly.
I’ve been pranked by a granny.
Mary-Ellen raises her hand. “Just for clarification, are we really discussing an age-gap romance?”
“No!” Emmy and I both say at the same time.
“It’s Sense and Sensibility night, Mary-Ellen,” Emmy adds.
Mary-Ellen frowns in disappointment.
Emmy grips my arm. “Excuse me while I speak with Dawson alone.”
I follow her to the front of the store as the ladies chat about the book.
Emmy pulls me into a quiet corner behind a bookshelf. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to prepare for the next meeting. I meant what I said about reading the hockey book.”
She crosses her arms. “Is that the only reason?”
“And...” I hesitate for a beat. “I thought Stewart was stopping by.”
Her eyes widen. “You came because of Stewart ?”
“In case you need a hockey player to slam him into the bookshelf.” I grin so she knows I’m kidding, even though I’m really not.
She gives me a pointed look. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Stewart.”
“He’s a bully.”
“I’ve handled him for this long by myself.” She shoots me a warning glance.
Right then, Stewart passes the bookstore window.
“Jerkface is here,” I say under my breath. “If he goes too far, I will put him in his place. Which is in the dumpster behind the store.”
Her mouth opens, but Stewart cuts her off. “Are you ready for our private meeting?” His eyes flick to me, and he frowns slightly. “What are you doing here?”
“Book club.”
“With those old ladies?” He nods toward the group in the back.
“Your mom is here, you know,” Emmy says.
He lifts a shoulder.
Stewart turns to Emmy. “I need to talk to you. Alone. ”
“I told you before, I have book club. Could we schedule a time when the bookstore doesn’t have any events?”
“Let my mom run it. She’s dying to.” He looks over Emmy’s front window display and picks up a brightly colored book with an illustrated couple on the cover. “Ugh. These look stupid.”
She takes it from his hands. “That’s a bestseller. Wouldn’t you like to see what sells before you change the display?”
“Not really,” he says, snatching the next book club selection, Perfectly Wedded . “Wow. Can’t believe anyone would read this. Why don’t we change the next book club selection? Cancel this one.”
“But most of them have already finished it,” Emmy begins, flustered.
I step toward Stewart. “There’s already a guest speaker lined up for the next meeting.”
His face snaps toward Emmy. “Who?”
“Me,” I say with a smug smile. “Your mom can’t wait.”
His eyes narrow on Emmy. “Is this true?”
She nods. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother, would you?”
Stewart lets out an annoyed grunt. “I don’t know why she’d want to read this.” He tosses the book on a table.
Emmy rolls her eyes. I fight a laugh.
“One more thing,” Stewarts says. “My mom said she didn’t remember telling anyone they could bring a guest to their fall party.”
“Oh.” Emmy’s eyes flick to me for help before she continues, “Well, she okayed it with me. She even approved Cooper and his publicist, Blair, coming.”
Stewart looks over at his mom who’s chatting with Mrs. Nelson, the former English teacher. “Really?”
“Noreen is a big fan of mine,” I interrupt. “She’d be disappointed if I didn’t come. Emmy is doing your mom a favor. You want me to ask her?”
If Stewart presses his mom, we’ll get caught in our little ruse. I’m counting on him not wanting to look bad in front of the book club ladies.
Stewart chews his lip. “We have a very limited guest list, but I suppose if she approved it...” He gives one more quick glance toward his mom. Then his phone buzzes. He checks the screen. “Dad’s calling. We’ll discuss books another time.” With that, Stewart disappears out the door.
Emmy exhales. “Sorry about him.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. It’s Stewart who should grovel at your feet.”
She gives a soft laugh. “Like he’d grovel at anyone’s feet. I’m just relieved he didn’t ask his mom. Now I need to get Noreen to agree.”
“Let me take care of that. I can convince her,” I say, studying Emmy. “As long as you’re okay with me being your date?”
“You don’t have to be my date,” she says.
“Who else am I going to go with?”
She gives me a look. “I’m sure you can find someone, Dawson.”
“The night we were in the wine cellar, I promised if you ever needed a date, I’d fill in.” I pause for a beat. “I’m making good on that promise.”
She frowns slightly. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about that night.”
She glances at the floor, clutching a book close to her chest. Does she really think I’m the type who makes empty promises?
“I won’t hold you to something from that long ago,” she says quietly. “We’re different people now.”
“Not that different. And I want to go with you.”
Her eyes soften, and a smile curls the edges of her lips. “Do you think we can make it believable?”
“Believable? For me, absolutely. I don’t do things halfway. The question is, can you?”