Room for You (8 page)

It was sweet that family was so important to him. I loved the way his face lit up when he talked about his mom and his sister. He had all the qualities I was looking for and his sexiness factor was off the charts. I started thinking that maybe I should tap into my inner Alexa and go for it for once. Constantly playing it safe only seemed to be prepping me to be the crazy old cat lady with an extensive collection of NASCAR kitchen plates.

I decided right then to throw caution to the wind and make an effort with Brody. I jumped out of bed with a sudden burst of excitement for the day and hurried for the shower, thankful Fred had fixed it last night so there were no repeats of yesterday.

Though if it would lead to Brody in his undies again, it might be worth it
.

Twenty minutes later, I threw on my favorite jeans and some makeup—which was in itself a rarity these days—and composed myself before I headed out to the kitchen.

Deep breaths, Kacie, deep breaths.

“Mommy!!!” Lucy threw herself into my arms and wrapped herself around my neck.

“Hey kiddo. Have you been good for Gigi?”

Piper bounced over and I pulled her in close to me too.

“Yes, we helped her make breakfast. I was in charge of pouring.” Lucy beamed at me.

“I was in charge of mixing!” Piper squealed.

I kissed both of them and they went back to making paper flowers at the island.

My mom turned from the stove with a plate of pancakes for me. “Here, I saved you some-” She stopped and looked at me funny.

“What?” I said defensively.

“Nothing, you just don’t usually wear makeup. You look very pretty.” She walked over and set the plate down on the island and kissed my cheek.

I was overcome with a sudden shyness. “Thanks, just thought I’d try something new.”

She nodded with a small smirk, like she knew exactly what I was doing. I was just thankful she didn’t make a big deal out of it and embarrass me more.

“So, where’s everyone else?” I tried to sound nonchalant.

“Fred’s out back cleaning up sticks and other garbage that washed up from the lake. Everyone else left early this morning when we got news that the bridge was open.”

“
Everyone
else is gone?” I blurted out in a panic. My stomach dropped through the wood floor. No way would he have left and not said anything, right? Last night, we were so comfortable talking to each other—neither of us wanted to go to bed. I thought for sure he’d stay and have breakfast before he left.

“Yep, everyone else is gone. Why?”

“No reason,” I said back, disappointed.

Mom looked at me suspiciously as she walked over to the island.

“There is something for you on the fireplace bench though, from Brody. What’s going on with that?”

My eyes got wide and I nodded toward the girls who appeared to be elbow deep in colorful flower petals and glue, but there was no doubt in my mind that their ears were open and listening. “There’s nothing going on with that. He was a nice guy, that’s all.”

She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at me. “Okay, if you say so.”

I sat at the island, watching Lucy and Piper cut little hearts and flowers out of construction paper, wondering how long I should sit and wait before I could sprint into the family room and see what Brody left for me. While Mom had her back turned at the stove, I tried to sneak a peek over at the fireplace and saw what appeared to be some kind of a red hoodie folded up with a note on it. I was straining my neck so hard to get a better look I almost fell off the stool.

“Why don’t you just go over and see what it is?” Mom said, amused.

I whipped back around and stared at my mom like a kid who just got caught with her hand in the candy jar.

“I knew you liked him. Mothers know these things. Go on.” She winked and shooed me away with her hand.

I decided not to argue with her. Instead I rolled my eyes and hopped down from the stool, reminding myself that if I didn’t want my mother sending out wedding invitations tomorrow, I needed to act like this was no big deal. As I got closer to the fireplace I saw that it was, in fact, a shirt of some sort. Before I picked it up, I grabbed the note and unfolded it impatiently.

My eyes fixated on the phone number on the bottom of the note, the phone number that I could dial and hear Brody’s voice within ten seconds if I wanted to. Just the thought of hearing his voice again sent a jolt of excitement through my body. I set the note aside and picked up the shirt curiously. It was a red jersey with a hunter green circle in the middle that was surrounding a scene of evergreens and a sunset. Two thick green stripes, one on each sleeve, bordered two thin white stripes. Confusion flooded my brain … why did he leave this for me? It made no sense.

I flipped the jersey around to inspect the back and it hit me like a ton of bricks. At the top of the jersey in white block letters read MURPHY with the number 30 below it. Murphy? That was Brody’s last name. I turned the jersey around again, still having no clue what exactly this was. In the thick green circle on the front, it said MINNESOTA WILD. What the hell was that?

The French doors leading to the back deck swung open and Fred came in, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans. He used his knee to gently close the door.

“Hey, Fred! What is this?” I asked, turning the front to face him.

“Minnesota Wild jersey.”

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, bewildered.

“Hockey. Minnesota’s professional hockey team. I hear they’re really good.”

My mouth fell open as the knot in my stomach grew bigger. Brody was a hockey player? No way. Why would he lie to me? It’s not like he didn’t have several opportunities. We chatted for hours. I was at a total loss and a little bit sad. If this was true, the chances of anything happening between us just washed away like sticks under the old bridge.

I put the note in my pocket, rolled up the jersey and walked into the kitchen.

“Hockey player, huh?” My mom eyed me skeptically.

My mind was still back in the family room processing what I just learned. It hadn’t caught up to my body enough to form a coherent sentence.

“Guess so,” I said flatly. I looked at the girls, wondering if I’d ever be able to give them the one thing that should have been inherently natural, a father. I looked over at my mom, who hadn’t taken her eyes off me. “Hey, can you keep an eye on them for a minute? I … have something to do.”

“Of course, honey.”

I got to my room and flopped down on my bed, stretching to reach my laptop. Thanks to the melded combination of Google and our fish bowl world, it was possible to find out just about anything. I took a deep breath and impatiently typed out B-R-O-D-Y M-U-R-P-H-Y in the search bar.

I stared wide-eyed at the screen while the hourglass spun round and round.

YOUR SEARCH YIELDED 3,270,000 RESULTS.

Three MILLION results? Holy shit! I scrolled down, quietly chanting to myself
please-no-naked-pictures, please-no-naked-pictures
. A headshot of Brody appeared at the top of the page that made my pulse race. His dark chocolate hair was a mess of loose curls that complimented his playful smile and shimmering green eyes. He was unwittingly seducing me and every other girl looking at his picture, probably a few guys too. Under his picture were action shots of him blocking goals, high-fiving his teammates and sparring with a guy from another team. The rest of the page was filled with personal stats, team stats and articles with headlines.

MURPHY’S GLOVE STOPS BRUINS IN THEIR TRACKS

BRODY “THE WALL” MURPHY’S STELLAR PERFORMANCE IN OVERTIME AIDS WILD IN VICTORY

“The Wall?” I snickered out loud to myself. What a nickname. I continued skimming the page but came to a screeching halt when one headline jumped out at me.

BRODY MURPHY ARRESTED IN CHICAGO

Oh God. For the millionth time that day, my stomach dropped. I clicked on the article and started absorbing the words as fast as my brain would allow. Halfway through the article, I chuckled, shaking my head at the computer like it was an old gossipy friend.

He got arrested for
that
?

It took me ninety-seven minutes to get home from the Cranberry Inn and I spent at least ninety of those minutes thinking about Kacie. The other seven were spent pulling in and out of the rest stop so my psycho dog with a bladder the size of a thimble didn’t pee in my truck.

I was up until three o’clock in the morning talking to Kacie, and despite my utter exhaustion, being with her all night was so worth it. Every time I thought about cutting the conversation short and heading to bed, a strand of her hair would break free from her ponytail and frame her face perfectly … or she’d flash that cute little dimple on her left cheek and suddenly, I didn’t give a shit about sleep anymore. That’s why God invented coffee anyway.

My cell phone alarm went off three hours after we finally turned in, and I packed up quietly and left. There was no real reason for me to leave so early. I had no exciting plans, but I wanted to sneak out before I saw Ashley again, and more importantly, I didn’t want to see Kacie’s face when she realized I’d lied to her about playing hockey.

The lie started out innocently. I just hadn’t felt like sitting at the dinner table answering all the typical questions that came along with being a professional athlete. Then when I talked to Kacie that night about her ex and what she was looking for now, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I didn’t want her making a snap judgment about me or my life, hoping that she’d get to know me before she blew me off … but I wanted to make sure that she found out about it from me, so I left my favorite jersey there for her.

My cell phone went off as I pulled into the parking garage of my condo building. For a quick second, I hoped it was Kacie already, but when I looked at my phone the screen said
BOSSMAN
.

“What’s up, buddy?” I tried sounding as awake as possible after three hours of sleep.

“Whoa! You sound like shit!” Andy teased.

“Good morning to you too. What are you doing up so early?”

“Early? Most normal people are already at work by now, not crawling in from the night before, which is exactly what it sounds like you’re doing. I’m already on my third cup of coffee, my friend.”

“Not exactly. I’m just getting home from up north.” I yawned.

“I thought you were getting home yesterday.”

“That was my hope, but the weather didn’t cooperate.” Thank God it didn’t, I thought.

“That sucks. Well, you wanna fill me in tonight over a beer or what?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Meet at The Bumper at six?” I asked.

“Perfect. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me dinner too.” He laughed as he hung up.

The Bumper was our favorite place to go. It was a hole-in-the-wall bar about four blocks from my condo, with grumpy waitresses and stale peanuts, but they made great burgers, the beer was ice cold and no one bugged me there. Diesel and I slowly made our way upstairs to my condo. I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter while he headed straight for his over-sized dog bed by the fireplace. I collapsed on the couch, debating whether to get up and head to the gym for a couple hours or sleep the day away right where I landed. The more I thought about bicep curls, the more comfortable my couch got and I let sleep take over.

A wet nose grazed my forehead, but I swatted it away. My eyelids felt like they were glued shut, refusing to budge and I was in no rush to force them open. I lay there listening to the sounds of the city rushing by my window, when my phone vibrated from the kitchen counter.

“What do you think, Diesel? You think that’s a text from her?” Diesel yawned and walked back to his bed, unimpressed. “Yeah, you’re right, she probably hates me.” I sighed, sitting up and resting my elbows on my knees. I took my time getting off the couch. I was in no rush to read a nasty message calling me a liar or see a picture of my jersey cut up in pieces on her bedroom floor. The idea of my jersey being on her floor was definitely exciting, but more in a trail-like fashion with her panties right next to it.