Page 45 of Love You Too

“Ren,” she says quietly after I bring the camera back to my face. Her expression is suddenly serious.

“Yeah? Is everything okay?”

She nods and presses her lips together. “Are you wearing a shirt?”

She knows I’m not. “No. Why?”

Blinking those soft blue eyes at me, she asks quietly, “Can I see?”

“See what? Me not wearing a shirt?”

She nods.

Oh, my little horny baby mama.

I hold the camera out so she can see me from the waist up and clock the grin that spreads across her face. She says nothing for a while, just stares at me. I’m happy too, gazing at her face. I could do this all night, especially when she gets that hungry sparkle in her eye.

“Thanks. I needed a little pick-me-up. That did it. Hope you don’t mind being objectified for a minute.”

“Are you kidding? We hockey stars live for that shit. Objectify me, baby.”

“Ha. Good.”

Even though I’m the one in the later time zone, I can see Trix’s eyes get heavy. “You’ve been working since the crack of dawn, haven’t you?” I ask, knowing how determined she is to work against probability to get the inn open in January of the new year.

She nods.

“Time for bed, honey.”

She nods again.

We say our good nights, and I look back at the silly desk in the corner of my room. No use for the thing at all. Except that…there is that stack of hotel stationery that I’ll bet no one ever uses. Maybe I’ll be the first.

I may never send it to anyone, but maybe Trix is right. Sometimes, it’s good to get all my thoughts in one place. And right now, all my thoughts are of her.

CHAPTER 18

Ren

Maybe it wasn’tthe best idea to ride my mountain bike to Trix’s house this morning. Turns out, it’s a long fucking way from my place on the Vine Trail when we’re having a heat wave. There’s always one weekend in October when it feels hotter than any summer day, and it sends forth a kind of optimism that I see in the face of everyone who’s out in shorts and a tee shirt one last time before fall takes over again and the days get shorter.

It’s supposed to be an off day from training before our first home game, and my coach would have my hide if he knew I was sweating out electrolytes in the bright sun instead of resting my muscles for tomorrow night’s matchup against Toronto. Well, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

I want to be outside. I need the sun on my face. I spend so much time inside an ice-o-plex that I’m probably criminally low on vitamin D. At least, that’s my excuse for riding this morning. That, and the fact that we won both games on the road. I woke upthis morning energized with a sense of invincibility—everything in my life is right where I want it to be.

Trix and I have plans today, but I told her we’re not going anywhere before noon. The woman holds herself to a grueling schedule, even three months pregnant, and I want her to get some sleep. It’s Sunday, for crying out loud. Nothing needs to get done today that can’t get done on Monday.

Riding feels good. The valley floor is flat, so my legs don’t have to work that hard. Half the time, I’m just coasting along, looking at the vineyards sprawling out in all directions, feeling the sun at my back.

I had a strange sense earlier that I couldn’t quite identify, and it’s taken me over ten miles of riding to put my finger on what it is. Happiness. I know that sounds glib or overly obvious, but the kind of happy I feel right now is different from the adrenaline rush of scoring the winning goal or reaching playoffs with the team. It’s not about achieving something. It’s about being lucky. It’s about chance and fortune and magic.

Falling in love with a woman like Beatrix Corbett once in a lifetime is more than a guy like me could hope for, but getting a second chance makes me feel like I’ve woken up on Christmas morning, hit the lottery, and won the Stanley Cup all at once.

It’s been almost three months since we ran into each other at the Oxbow Market, and I keep coming back to that day—how I meant to get to the paint store earlier, but then I stayed up late getting muddled up in design plans, which I’ve never done before. Then I slept in, which also never happens. Almost like the renovation gods were conspiring to push us together. If you believe in that sort of thing. I never did.

Maybe I do now.

Maybe I put a little more stock in the idea of fate.

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