Grumpy as puck, p.9
Grumpy as Puck, page 9
“I brought you here to help Arizona. I feel like if I hadn’t caused a scene with that woman and yelled at you about Arizona, your boss wouldn’t have come down so hard on you. She must have found out what happened, or she wouldn’t have fired you.”
For the past two days, I kept going over in my head why someone would fire Daisy. Her boss must have found out how upset I was from the receptionist and assumed Daisy had something to do with it. What they didn’t understand was it had nothing to do with Daisy. I was just an unreasonable asshole.
She shook her head. “Look, Cillian, it really wasn’t—”
“Before you deny it and try to take the blame, I want you to know that I brought you here to offer you a job.”
“What sort of job?” She gazed around the farm, taking in its charm. “Farm keep? I know about animals but not about farms, despite always wanting to live on one.”
“No, not farm keep. Or farm hand. I want you to be Arizona’s personal physical therapist. You can work with him here.” I waved my hand around the overgrown fields.
“That’s great.” Her smile grew, and it felt like the sun warming my face on a chilly winter morning.
But just as her grin appeared, it slowly diminished. “But I don’t have a car. How will I get here? It’s not like the bus comes out this way.”
“Sam and my dad. And on days they can’t, I will. It’s no problem.”
Daisy’s eyes dipped to Arizona in my arms. The dog was squirming again, so I put him down. He tried to get up to walk, but his legs wobbled before his butt fell back to the ground.
“He needs you.” I pointed to my dog.
She watched Arizona as she bit her lower lip. Maybe it wasn’t enough for her, just being a physical therapist. She was used to doing more.
The silence persisted, and I worried she’d say no. My brain raced to come up with more things she could do. My dad was getting a goat, so she could help the goat if it got sick. But I doubted my dad would buy a sick goat. He grew up on a farm and knew a sickly animal when he saw one.
Scratching my head, I glanced around the farm for another task.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” she blurted out, startling me.
“Really? That’s great.” I held out my hand to shake on it.
But Daisy surprised me. Her arms flew open, and she pulled me into a hug.
I hesitated for only a moment. She was soft and warm, as if her earlier smile enveloped all of me.
Folding her into my embrace, I tried not to pull her too tight. My cock had already stirred, and it wasn’t good business to rub a boner all over a potential employee.
Because that was what Daisy was now, an employee. She worked for me. As my mom taught me, you should never flirt with someone you work with. I never wanted what happened to my mom with the job she had before she married my dad to happen to Daisy.
Our relationship would only ever be professional.
Chapter thirteen
Daisy
“Right this way, Mr. Walsh,” the maître d’ said as he waved for us to follow.
It had been a few days since Cillian rescued me from the coffee shop and took me to his farm. Then last night I got the contract to sign to be Arizona’s physical therapist. Now, he’d whisked me off to the fanciest restaurant I had ever been in.
My mouth fell open as I stared around the restaurant. I had never been to this place. Hell, I had never even heard of it.
But the thing I couldn’t keep my eyes off was an enormous circular waterfall in the middle of the restaurant. The falling water glittered as it picked up the dim evening lighting from the tables.
As we made our way around it on the soft cream carpeting, I wondered about the prices I would find on the menu. I had never been to a restaurant this nice before.
“Right over here. A perfect table overlooking the mountains.”
The maître d’ was right. The small, white linen-covered table was set against a wall of windows that overlooked several mountains. Since it was evening, the setting sun turned the sky orange, which contrasted with the blue mountains for a breathtaking view.
The maître d’ pulled out my chair, but Cillian cleared his throat. I felt my cheeks warm as I caught sight of Cillian. I wasn’t used to him in a suit.
I wondered if it had been made for him. Maybe I wasn’t used to seeing men in suits. Andrew never wore one; even Jackson wore a terrible white tuxedo for his wedding and looked ridiculous. I didn’t tell him, but I suspected it was Katie who insisted on his wardrobe.
The light gray suit Cillian wore fit him perfectly. My eyes kept flickering to his arms. I never knew I was an arms gal, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off them.
Cillian’s blue eyes sparkled against the glow of the lighting as he stared down at the maître d’. The man knew well enough to step aside, allowing Cillian to hold out my chair for me. Once I was seated, I thanked him but nodded knowingly at the maître d’.
When Cillian was settled in his seat, the maître d’ used his finger to press down his mustache before going over the special of the day. It was a dish I had never heard of, but the maître d’ insisted it was a local delicacy. He handed us both our menus before walking away.
“I think I see Brian.” Cillian turned his head.
“Isn’t that the team captain?” Jackson had mentioned him a few times, but I had never met the guy.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think he liked to go to places like this.” Cillian shrugged and turned back to his menu.
Was Cillian the type of guy who frequented these types of restaurants? I bit down on my lower lip. He probably knew exactly which fork to use and could pronounce the menu items perfectly, even if they were in another language.
Gazing at the different dishes listed, I noticed something disturbing.
Where were the prices?
“I think I got the wrong menu,” I said.
“Really?”
I turned the menu to face him. “Yes, the menu doesn’t have any prices on it.”
He lifted his and grinned. I sucked in a breath, as I still wasn’t used to his devastating smile.
“Neither does mine. I think they purposely left the prices off the menu.”
Pulling my menu back to study it, I asked, “But how do you know how much the dishes are?”
Then it hit me. You’re not supposed to know the prices because if you can’t afford the food, you shouldn’t be dining at this restaurant.
I swallowed hard.
“Cillian, I appreciate that you wanted to take me out to dinner to thank me for helping with Arizona, but this is a little much, don’t you think? I can’t afford anything here. Which, I’m assuming, because I don’t know the prices.”
He leaned forward and placed his hand over mine. My fingers tingled from his touch.
“Daisy, I’m paying for the meal. This is me thanking you, not just for helping to get my dog walking again but for saving his life. It’s the least I can do.”
“But you’re already paying me to work for you. And now you’re paying for this expensive meal.” I took a breath to get the nerve to continue. “I wanted to talk to you about how much you’re paying me.”
He had sent his lawyer to Lydia’s place where I was still living. The lawyer had a contract for me to sign from Cillian for the work I would do for his dog. It was nice that he did things legally. When I read over the contract, that was when I saw how much he was going to pay me.
I would make more working for him than I ever did for Angelica. And while I appreciated the money, he was paying me way more than what animal physical therapists make.
I opened my mouth to explain that I made a mistake signing the contract for that amount of money when a woman appeared next to our table. She was tall with high cheekbones, and she reminded me of a runway model version of Angelica, just with strawberry blond hair.
The look in Cillian’s eyes turned from warmth to ice in mere seconds.
“Cillian, I never expected to see you here again.”
“Shondra. I’d say it was nice to see you again, but I’m not a liar,” he said through gritted teeth.
The woman laughed, but there was a bitter tinge to it. “So funny. I’m glad you finally got your humor back. You were so depressing to be around, even when we went to Vegas. The only time you were tolerable was when you drank. Can you believe he tried to stay sober for the trip, but I talked him into partying our last night there. And what a party it was…”
He stiffened when she mentioned Las Vegas. I suspected he didn’t like the memories of his time drinking.
Her green eyes shifted to me. I met her gaze, and something passed over her expression—something that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
She smoothed her hand over her cream cashmere dress. “Oh, look. Is this another girl you’re gonna whine to? Try to pull on her sympathy strings and then toss her aside the moment she doesn’t want to talk about you?”
Before Cillian could respond, the woman held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Shondra, Cillian’s ex-girlfriend.”
Hesitantly, I took her hand. “Hello, I’m Daisy.”
Her touch was icy as she gave a brisk shake before dropping my hand.
“Daisy.” She tapped her chin. “That name sounds familiar, but I don’t recognize you.”
“Shondra, we are trying to have a nice evening, so if you would kindly fuck off—”
Shondra waved her hand at him. “Cillian, I assume you’re over your mom by now.” The woman rolled her eyes before focusing on me. “You just wouldn’t believe the amount of whining this man did about losing his mom. I mean, I get it… your mom died. Okay. I expected some grieving for a couple of days, but then move on, am I right?”
My eyes widened as I placed my hand on my chest. I couldn’t believe how callous she sounded. Shondra made Andrew seem like a decent guy.
Cillian stood. “If you don’t mind getting out of our way, Shondra. We were just about to leave.” He leaned forward until he was in her face with a sneer. “This place isn’t what we expected. Come on, Daisy.” He walked over to me and held out his hand.
I was in shock, but I understood why he wanted to go immediately. Taking his hand, I got up, and we strolled around the waterfall toward the large wooden front door.
My mouth remained closed as I clasped his hand, waiting for the car attendant to pull up with his SUV.
I glanced down at our entwined fingers, and a shiver ran up my arm. Why did something so simple like holding hands make me incredibly happy?
“You cold?” he asked.
But before I could say no, he slipped off his suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I tugged at the lapel, wrapping myself in his spicy scent. As much as I longed for his hand again, the jacket was nice too.
I was so out of place in that decadent restaurant, wearing my cheap, discount-store dress that I bought several years ago. When Shondra showed up, I wondered if I should have hidden under the table.
Her dress was gorgeous and hugged her body perfectly. It was made of expensive cashmere, while mine was made of polyester.
But after Shondra revealed what type of person she was, I didn’t care what I looked like. Sometimes monsters were disguised in pretty packages.
The car pulled up, and Cillian handed the guy something before holding the door open for me. Once I got inside, I snuggled into his heated seats.
I waited for Cillian to speak, but the car ride home was silent. I kept wondering what I should say—something, anything to lift his spirits, but nothing felt right.
I thought about telling him how I knew what he was going through. But did I really?
I naively believed being cheated on and fired all within one week was the worst thing that could happen to someone, but that was nothing compared to someone you dearly love dying.
Cillian lost his mom, and nothing could bring her back. I could always get another job. Actually, I already had one. It wasn’t something to rely on long-term and definitely not a career, but it was something to pay the bills, and helping Arizona on the farm was fun.
I was sure I’d have another boyfriend one day. Someone who wasn’t a liar and a cheat.
But a mom… a mom was irreplaceable—not that I ever knew mine. But I knew what it was like to lose a parent, someone you loved dearly.
The one person he thought would care about and support him in his time of need treated him like garbage. I was starting to understand why Cillian had that chip on his shoulder.
I turned to him as we pulled up to Lydia’s apartment building. I had thought about what to say. Placing my hand on his arm, I said, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Shondra would be there.”
He wasn’t getting it.
“No, Cillian. I am so sorry to hear about your mom’s death.”
He sat back in his car seat, letting go of the steering wheel. Weariness filled his eyes. “It was two years ago. A few months after the puke kiss.”
I smirked. “That’s a good name for it. Puke kiss.”
There was more silence. He must still be grieving.
I reached over and grabbed his hand. Cillian flinched, but after a second, his fingers relaxed in mine. “I didn’t know her, but I bet she was an amazing woman.”
He nodded. “She was the type of person who found happiness in anything… even in something as terrible as cancer. When she was diagnosed with it, she said that she now had an excuse to rest and watch her soap operas.”
I studied him. He stared at our hands, but his expression told me he didn’t see them.
“She loved you. I may not know about the love between a mother and a son, having only ever been a daughter, but seeing the type of guy you turned out to be—”
“Yeah, a grump.” He pursed his lips.
“No, I was about to say you turned out to be a nice guy. What mom wouldn’t be proud at having a caring son who is also an amazing hockey player?”
His hand slipped from mine. “Hockey is just a game. I learned that the hard way after my mom died. She needed me that day, and I was too busy playing a silly game.”
Oh god…
“I’m sorry. You couldn’t have known she would pass that day—”
“I should have been there with her. Even the coach suggested I stay home that day to be close to her. But I chose a stick and puck over the woman I loved.” He took a breath and turned toward me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you to dinner tonight, but I need to go home.”
I nodded and opened the door, stepping out. I turned back to say something before shutting the door, but it closed without me doing anything.
Heated seats and automatic closing doors? What couldn’t that car do?
“Good job, Daisy. You caused another man to run away from you,” I said to myself as I watched Cillian’s black SUV drive away.
Chapter fourteen
Cillian
“Good job deflecting the puck, Aspen.” I slipped on my shirt as I glanced his way.
“Thanks, Cillian. That deke you pulled on Jackson was epic.” Aspen lifted his arms and danced around. Aspen was thirty, though he acted more like fifteen.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics as I reached into my locker and pulled out my socks. Tugging them on, I noticed a few players patting Jackson on the back—one of them being Aspen. Maybe he was razzing Jackson about the deke.
Emmanuel came over and sat on the wooden bench. He bounced his foot, clearly nervous about something. Then he reached into his locker.
“Emmanuel, why is everyone congratulating Jackson?”
Since Jackson was my age, I was worried he would try to go for the captain position. I had been with the Devils longer than him and had that to my advantage, but still, I worried.
Coach hadn’t mentioned anything, and Jackson hadn’t formally said he was going after the position. Perhaps I was worrying about nothing.
At the moment, I was the only person up for the position, and I felt I had a good chance of getting elected. Plus, coach hadn’t mentioned anything in the past week about firing me, so I might be in the clear.
“I heard Jackson was putting his hat in the ring.”
“For what?”
I knew what Emmanuel meant; I just didn’t want to believe it.
“He’s gonna try out for team captain.”
Shit. So much for being positive.
Had he heard about my date with his sister on Friday? Was it an act of retaliation?
“Jackson is throwing his hat in the ring?” My nostrils flared as I stood, turning to glare at my new competitor. “I bet it’s because I want the position. He’s always had it out for me.”
Emmanuel said nothing, but I could tell by the look on his face that he knew something and wasn’t telling me.
“Cillian, maybe it’s not the right time for you to become a captain. The team is warming up to you. Focus on that.” He smiled and stood, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I think you’re doing a great job with that. I even heard some players talking the other day about how nice you’ve been lately—”
“I don’t want to hear what the other players are talking about. Being captain would mean so much to…” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Now I have to compete with Jackson. Everyone loves him, and he doesn’t even have to try. How do I compete with that?”
Emmanuel shrugged. “He tries. Just this past Friday night, he invited the team out to a strip club—”
I turned so fast, Emmanuel stumbled back.
“I didn’t hear about going to a strip club.”
Emmanuel’s eyebrows rose as he inched backward.
“Don’t you do that, Emmanuel.” I moved toward him.
He pointed behind him and raised his voice. “What’s that, Aspen? Yes, of course I’ll come help you get your, uh… foot out of the toilet.” Emmanuel winced at his outrageous lie before turning to scurry off.
“That’s right, coward, run away.” Shoving my hands on my hips, I continued, “I can see Aspen over by Jackson. I’m not blind, you know.”
