Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Uh, sure. Of course.” I pocketed my keys and took over ice duty. “It’s heavy. I can carry it to your room if you want.”
Smitty widened his eyes. “You’re not trying to get in my pants, are you, Sheriff?”
I cast a panicky look around the parking lot, growling as I closed the distance between us and slipped an ice cube down his shirt. “Very funny. Now where’s your goddamn room?”
“Fuck me, that’s cold,” he yelped, shaking the ice out. “All right, all right. It’s upstairs.”
I walked behind him at a respectful distance, holding the bucket while he opened his door. I braced myself for yet another weird good-bye, but he charged into the room ahead of me and made a beeline for the bottle of ibuprofen on the nightstand.
I set the bucket on the standard motel-issue dresser and scanned the room. Unlike the bar, where nostalgia was a selling point, the rest of the inn had been remodeled recently.
The walls, curtains, and bed linens were white, accented with tasteful shades of forest green in throw pillows. Artwork featuring black-and-white photographs of the woods in the surrounding area were hung in groups of four. I eyed the open sliding glass door beyond the neatly made king-sized bed and the incredible view of the forest.
The Black Horse Inn was situated along the winding road leading into Elmwood in a truly picturesque setting. Every room had views of the glorious sea of evergreens—or so I’d been told. I’d never actually stayed here.
I stepped to the window instinctively. I was used to pointing out the beauty of the area, but I was off-duty and this guy was on his way out of town anyway. I could afford to be nice…ish.
“Hockey injury?” I asked.
Smitty snorted as he swallowed the pills. “More like two decades worth of hockey injuries. I’m fine, though. I haven’t had a chance to stretch, and that’s kind of crucial.”
“Have you been to the sports center? There’s a nice gym and a sauna. It might help work out the kinks.”
“Kinks, eh?”
I rolled my eyes and marched to the door. “All right, this was interesting. Safe travels and—”
“Hey, I was kidding. Sorry. I spent most of my life in locker rooms. My sense of humor is pretty low-brow.” He gave a sheepish half laugh as he sauntered toward me. “I saw the rink and Riley told me about the gym and rec center, but he was tight on time. I might wander over there tomorrow and check it out. I’m assuming it’s not hard to find.”
“It’s a couple of blocks north of the rink, adjacent to Saint Finbarr’s. Just look for the steeple, and you’ll see it.”
“Any idea what time it closes?”
“Eight or nine o’clock, I think. You might want to call Riley and ask him for a tour. It’s brand-new and state-of-the-art, and…it’ll give you an opportunity to talk to him.”
He snorted ruefully. “Got it, Dad.”
I shot him a quelling look and turned the knob. “Best wishes to you.”
“And salutations?”
“Has anyone told you that you’re kind of an asshole?” I countered.
Smitty’s lips curled into a lopsided grin. “Has anyone told you that you’re kind of uptight?”
“I’m not uptight.”
He pinched his fingers together and winked. “Just a little?”
No, I was a reformed “bad idea” junkie, determined not to let a one-night bender ruin years of rehabilitation—no matter how enticing it sounded. But he didn’t need to know that.
“I’m trying to be the adult in the room and maturely deal with an unexpected situation. That’s all. I wish…I wish you hadn’t come and I feel like a jerk for saying that, but that night wouldn’t have happened if I’d known we’d see each other again—here in Elmwood. And I really liked that night, so—”
“Me too,” he replied in a gravelly voice that went straight to my dick. “But I understand, and I’ll do my best to avoid you for the next few months.”
I froze. “Wh-what?”
“I offered to act as an interim coach until Riley finds a replacement.”
My jaw dropped like a cartoon character, complete with bugged-out eyes. “Wait. You said you were leaving.”
“No, you said I was leaving,” he corrected calmly.
“But you’re staying?”
“Temporarily. He needs the help, and I’m free till mid-October.” Smitty shrugged nonchalantly.
“Mid-October.” I slumped against the doorjamb. “Oh.”
“Hey, to be clear, I didn’t come here looking for a repeat. I think I’m going through a little transitional phase, and it didn’t seem healthy to wait around for life to start again in Toronto. And definitely not in Detroit. So I talked to Riley this afternoon, and we came up with a mutually beneficial solution. But I respect your wishes and I’ll stay far, far away if that’s what you want. Don’t worry about me. It’s all good, man.”
Oh. Wow.
Just. Wow.
I licked my lips and nodded. “Right. All good.”
“Except…”
“What?”
“I can’t stay in this hotel for months. Can you find me a short-term rental?”