Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Sort of.” I confirm with a smirk. “I had plenty to keep me busy, but I was able to set my own pace.”
Jenna takes another sip of her wine and tips her head at me. “What kept you busy?”
“A houseboat I was restoring in Seattle.” I chuckle to myself. “And admittedly… while it was a passion project, I was a bit bored with it. Should have picked something better to do.”
“You’re a man who was ready to retire from hockey. You just didn’t know what your next stage of life would entail.”
“Precisely. But I also knew when agreeing to come back into the league that I didn’t want to stay long.”
“Then why come back at all?” she asks.
I put my elbow on the table and lean into it, balancing my beer bottle on my thigh. “When I retired, I thought I had accomplished all my goals. I won’t try to impress you with my stats or the shitload of money I’ve made over the years, but I felt complete. Like there was nothing else to achieve. But when the Titans call came, I realized that a new goal had been created just for me. To help build this team from nothing.”
“A short-term goal,” she surmises.
“Yeah… come in, help get it going, and then gracefully step out again.” I sip my beer and think about it a moment before adding, “And come up with another project other than restoring a houseboat.”
“Clearly you like helping people,” Jenna muses. “Hockey is part of your DNA. Maybe you could do some coaching, mentoring, or training.”
“Not a bad idea,” I say, tipping the bottle toward her. “Where to do it, though?”
“Is Seattle your home?” she inquires.
I tap my fist a few times against my chest, looking hurt. “I can’t believe you haven’t googled me and know the answer to that.”
Jenna laughs and shakes her head. “I am no stalker, sir.”
“Well, had you googled me, you’d know that I retired in Seattle. I was with the Storm for seven years, and it’s a nice city, so I stayed.”
“No ties to anywhere else?”
“On the contrary, I have deep ties. Parents, siblings, scores of nieces and nephews. All in the same little town in the middle of a cornfield in Iowa. I’ll probably move back there one day.”
“You’re close to your family?”
“A little too close,” I reply with a laugh. “My parents and siblings are all busybodies. I fend off about fifty texts a day from them checking in on me.”
“You love it,” Jenna says with a soft chuckle, a conclusion she’s drawn just from my demeanor. It’s obvious, the fondness in my voice, even as I complain about my family.
“I love them,” I say simply. A smile ghosts on her face, and she nods in understanding. “I take it you’re close with your family? I mean, I know your sister loves you enough to drive you here from Phoenix.”
“Emory and I are super close, even though we’re half siblings. We share the same father, but her mom died in childbirth. Her dad then married my mom and I came along. We were raised together, and my mom is her real mom in all meanings.”
“That’s why your coloring is so different,” I muse. “Emory of the raven-black hair and pale skin, and Jenna fresh off the beaches of California.”
“It’s a little eerie how close you are. We lived some years in England where Emory’s mom was from, but then we moved to southern California where I was pretty much raised. Emory looks like our father, and I look like my mother.”
I’d assumed Emory had spent significant time in Great Britain given her accent, which isn’t overly powerful but noticeable.
“And Emory’s your only sibling?” I lift the bottle to my lips, take another pull.
“She is, but I have the most wonderful niece… Felicity, from Emory’s prior marriage. When I moved to Arizona last year, it was to help take care of Felicity as Emory had just started her job with the Vengeance.”
“And she dates Jett Olsson, right?” I ask, because Baden’s told me a lot about his prior teammates.
“Yup. She’s the VP of digital marketing and analytics for the Vengeance.”
“And how did you get into—” My words are cut short as a hand claps down on my shoulder.
“Gage.”
I turn in my chair and see Nolan Carrier, one of our first-line defensemen, standing behind me. He glances at Jenna. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replies.
“This is Jenna Holland,” I say to Nolan, then glance back at Jenna. “Nolan Carrier… defenseman.”
Nolan reaches across the table and Jenna accepts his hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you,” he says politely and then pulls a chair out to my left and plops down. “Listen, man… I really need your help.”
I straighten up in my chair and swivel to face him as I put my beer bottle on the table. “What’s up?”