Quick Trick (A Rough Riders Hockey Novel Book 1) (9 page)

The flutter in her belly told her she was pretty sure he’d drag her under and drown her without ever realizing. But then she wondered if she were underestimating herself. Underestimating him.

“Aunt Faith.” Caleb’s frustrated voice dragged her gaze from Grant’s grin.

“What?”

Caleb was already standing outside the rink, skates in hand, arms out.

“Hey.” She frowned at him. “Lose the attitude, or you can walk home, buddy.”

He deflated. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“What do you say to Grant? And think before you answer.”

Her warning tone registered, but he still answered immediately. “That was the best practice ever, Mr. Saber.”

“Grant,” he said, chuckling, then grimaced. “No Mr. Saber.”

“Sorry. But seriously, I’ve never had so much fun playing hockey before. Thank you.”

“I’m glad. Thanks for giving it your all.”

“Okay,” Faith said, reluctant to walk away from Grant. But she tugged on the hood of Caleb’s sweatshirt, teasingly dragging him right, then left, then right again until he was laughing. “I guess we can go to Dairy Queen on the way home.”

Caleb jumped and fisted his hand. “
Yes
.” And he ran to the truck, yelling, “Thanks for the extra practice, Mr… Grant.”

“He’s a good kid,” Grant said, waving to Caleb before he jumped in the truck.

Faith walked backward a few feet. “And you’re a good man, Grant Saber.”

Grant dropped his hand and looked at her for a long, deer-in-the-headlights moment before a grin split his face.

Faith’s heart tripped again. And to keep herself from falling over her feet, Faith turned and jogged the rest of the way to the truck. When she backed out of the parking space, she glanced over at the ice and found Grant sprinting from one end of the rink to the other, a puck at the blade of his stick, swooshing around corners, taking sharp turns, and speeding back the other direction.

She paused a moment to watch, mesmerized by his speed and intensity. The sight made her body tighten in ways she hadn’t felt in so long, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt quite like this. “I need to start watching more hockey.”

“I told you that when I was, like, five.”

Faith reached across the bench seat and stuck a finger in Caleb’s ticklish ribs. He burst into giggles that warmed Faith’s heart. “Shush, monkey. Be nice, or no Blizzard for you.”

She only half listened to Caleb’s constant chatter on the drive, her mind spinning around how quickly her desire for Grant had ramped up over the span of a week. She’d been single for eight years now. During that time, she’d made a lot of male friends and been asked out dozens of times. But she’d only met maybe a handful of guys who’d tempted her to date again, and not one who’d made her want to jump into bed with him.

Yet here she was, losing sleep over Grant. And it wasn’t just because of his looks. Sure, that was a benefit, but what had captured her attention was his confidence and wit. What had deepened her interest was all she’d learned about him during his daily visits to the store. The way he stopped to talk to locals. His easy nature and quick laughter. And the way he continued to fix up his parents’ home even when their relationship was strained. How he’d stayed in town even after a blowup with them to honor his commitment to Dwayne and support a team that had once been his team.

“I couldn’t believe it when he told me he’d been bullied in school.” Caleb’s comment broke into Faith’s thoughts.

She glanced at him. “What?”

“Mr. Saber. He told me that he was really unpopular as a kid. He got picked on a lot, like me.”

Her brows shot up, and a grin turned her mouth. He’d probably made that up to make Caleb feel better. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. He was super skinny and had really bad pimples, you know? What do you call that?”

“Acne?”

“Yeah, that. He said kids called him names for a long time. You know, the way they call me nerd and dweeb and stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” Faith’s brows pulled together. She was having a hard time picturing that.

“Yeah. Told me that people only started to respect him when he got good at hockey. Said I didn’t have to choose hockey, but that finding something that I’m really good at will make other people respect me. And over time, people would stop teasing me. He said I shouldn’t be afraid to be me. That too many people spend too much time trying to fit in when they should be trying to stand out and be their own personal best.”

That sting of warmth she’d had earlier filled her again, and she smiled pulling into the Dairy Queen drive-through.

Grant Saber just kept surprising her.

Faith was still thinking about Grant long after she’d dropped Caleb off at home and returned to the store to finish up her day by stocking shelves. Thinking about his kiss as she started toward the basement where dozens of delivery boxes awaited her. Thinking about his words that still created a shiver in her gut and settled heat between her legs.

“I talk as dirty as I fight, and I fuck as hard as I play.”

She wondered what it would be like to have a man like Grant Saber, with all his confidence and skill, talk dirty to her. Wondered what it would be like to be fucked hard. Hell, fucked period. She’d never approached sex that way. Dillon had been her first and last. And she’d been in love with him. Had believed she’d marry him.

As she unloaded the last box, Faith came to the realization that nothing in life was a sure thing—except death. And that by trying so hard to hold on to the store, she was letting life pass her by. A big chunk of which she’d already missed out on. It didn’t matter whether Grant wanted one night or even one hour, because the truth was, with her life so unstable, Faith didn’t have much more to offer.

Gathering the last box of nuts, bolts, and screws, she started upstairs to fill the shelves.

“Tomorrow,” she told herself, “I’m going to ask him out. Tomorrow, when he comes in, I’m going to see if he wants to go to dinner. I’m going to be honest with him, and if he’s still interested, then…” She paused on the stairs. “Then what?”

The thought of having sex with him electrified her blood. Just kissing him had knocked her completely off-balance. What would she do when she was naked? When
he
was naked? Or when his hands roamed her body? When his mouth ventured beyond her lips? When he moved between her legs and pushed inside her.

A wave of want crashed, making her so dizzy, she had to put a hand against the wall to steady herself. “God,” she said, the word shaky with excitement, anticipation… Fear. She forced her feet to move again. “He’s so out of my stratosphere. It’s probably time to check into some video education tonigh—”

Psssssssss…

Faith’s feet froze on the stairs. Her ears perked to the new high-pressured hiss coming from somewhere adjacent to the storage room. It was the kind of sound that prickled the skin on the back of her neck with alarm.

She turned and started back to the basement, her mind searching for the cause. The explosion shocked her, and Faith tripped over her own feet. She let out a cry just before she hit the cement stairs. Pain cracked through her butt and back, stealing her breath. The box she’d been carrying slammed against the wall, then the floor, spraying silver screws like confetti.

Faith used her hands to slow her momentum and brace herself once she’d come to a stop. But several moments passed before she could gain control over her breathing to ease the pain that stabbed along her back and butt.

When it finally eased enough to let her draw full breaths, her other senses came back, and a new horror flooded in—the sound of gushing water.

* * *

G
rant had pushed
everything too far this week—his frustration with his parents, his desire for Faith, and the limits of his own body. And he was paying for all of them.

He let the hot water pulse from the new showerhead over his right shoulder, glad he’d gone for the more expensive model and all the massage features. After this, he’d stretch, then pack it with ice. Add a little ibuprofen and a good night’s sleep, and he’d be fine tomorrow.

But sleep wouldn’t come easily. All he had to do was remember the feel of Faith’s warm mouth under his. The gentle way she’d stroked his tongue when she’d found the nerve. The way she felt against him. And, God, the sounds she made when he kissed her…

All his blood flowed south again. His groin tightened. His cock hardened.

“Fuck.” Grant opened his eyes to his hard-on and sighed. It was going to be another long night.

He hit the controls, pulled the towel from the shower door, and pressed it against his face. His brothers would be here tomorrow. Initially, that would buffer him from his parents. But Grant suspected that Patrick and Shawn would become as big a source of stress and frustration as his parents were. And even after all these years, that really disappointed him.

As he dried off, he thought of Faith and her relationship with her father and Caleb, a boy she wasn’t even related to by blood. They were loving, nurturing, and kind. Because Faith was loving, nurturing, and kind. And it made Grant wonder if it was time to add that kind of happiness and warmth into his own life.

But that was extremely hard to do in his line of work with a grueling game and practice schedule that included travel, charity and team events. When he was surrounded by women who were more interested in what kind of fame or finances he brought to the table instead of what kind of man he was.

“And you’re a good man, Grant Saber.”

Faith’s words made him smile. He didn’t feel like he deserved them, but he wanted to deserve them. Now he wished he had more time to earn them with her.

His phone chimed with a call. Grant closed his eyes, sighed, and picked up the phone. He didn’t recognize the number, just that it was local, and hoped Bobby Lowry was calling to get together. It would be good to see him and it might help keep Grant’s mind off Faith.

“Hello,” he answered, scrubbing his hair with the towel.

“Hey, Grant?”

He recognized Faith’s voice immediately, which threw him completely off axis. “Faith?”

She huffed a tired laugh. “Who were you expecting? How many women do you have calling you at this hour?” He grinned at her quick sarcasm, but she didn’t sound quite right. “Hold on. Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

“Are you out of breath? Or just tipsy?” Lowering his voice, he teased, “Did you get into the Jangle Punch again?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” There was definitely something off in her voice. “If you get here soon, I might still have some to share with you.”

He didn’t get a chance to ask if she was serious, because the line went dead. Grant pulled his phone from his ear and stared at it. Then shrugged. Jangle Punch or no Jangle Punch, there was nowhere he’d rather be than with Faith. Annoyed or not.

He reached for the bathroom door.

A knock came from the entry to the guesthouse, followed by, “Grant?”

He cringed at the sound of his mother’s voice and leaned on the door handle. “Yeah, Mom. Taking a shower.”

“Sorry, honey. I wanted to tell you that Patrick came in early. And Shawn’s going to be delayed. Do you think you could come up to the house for a drink before you turn in? Patrick’s interested in the landscaping barrier you put in the planting beds out front. Says he’d like to use it at his house and had some questions.”

“Shit,” he whispered, then said, “Actually, I promised Dwayne I’d meet him to talk about some team strategy tonight. Can you tell Patrick I’ll catch him tomorrow?”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, and Grant braced for her incensed anger. “All right.”

When she didn’t say more, Grant said, “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Pause. “Honey, I just wanted to tell you that your dad and I really appreciate all you’ve done around the house this past week, and despite our rough start, it’s been so nice having you home.”

He rubbed his face, so not in the mood to deal with this. Nor did he know what to say. Based on years of experience, he wasn’t ready to jump into expectations. “Thanks, Mom. I’m glad.”

“Tomorrow maybe we can sit down with your schedule and see when we can all make it to one of your games.”

He dropped his hand, lifted his head, and stared at the door. “Really?”

Okay, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say out loud, but…
really
?

“Yes, really. You know, your dad’s been under a lot of stress at work. Normally he’s not so…angry.” She paused. “Well, say hello to Dwayne for us. We’ll talk to you in the morning.”

When the door closed, Grant shook his head and muttered, “Who was that, and what did she do with my mother?”

But he wondered only for a second, because he had someone very special waiting for him.

Grant splashed on a little cologne and dressed in jeans and a tee, and was out the door in two minutes flat. He shrugged into his parka on the jog to his SUV sitting in the drive and headed toward town.

With edgy alternative rock shaking the car and his mind spiraling through what-ifs over Faith’s phone call—specifically, what if she’d called to tell him she wanted him and just couldn’t find the words?—Grant was primed and pumped when he took the steps to the store two at a time and found the front door open. He stepped into the darkened store to the familiar tinkle of a bell and the rasp of his own quick breath.