Page 98 of Play the Game

“So, Scottie…” My dad taps his fingers against the counter while finishing his dessert.

It was no surprise to me that my mom made Scottie and me a home-cooked meal followed by dessert, but Scottie was thoroughly confused when she saw what my mom had managed to do in just a matter of hours.

“Have your parents met Emory? Or are you hiding him from your family, like he was with you?”

I jerk my attention to Scottie, waiting to hear her response. There has been no talk of her family, and I’m sure that’s purposeful. When a plate slips out of her hand and into the sink, I reach inside the warm water and give her palm a squeeze.

“I’m never gonna live it down, am I?” I call over my shoulder. “And I wasn’t hiding her. Scottie just doesn’t like attention, so we were keeping our relationship and marriage under wraps until we felt it was right. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve gained some attention from the press.”

Scottie’s shoulders visibly relax, and she breathes out a tiny breath. She turns slightly with our hands still joined in the water. When she smiles sweetly at my dad, I zero in on the hickey I’d gave her earlier in the day.

Shit.

I reach out with my other hand and pull her hair forward. The tender act will surprise my parents to the point that they won’t questionwhyI did it. Scottie knows, though.

“I sure hope my son asked your father for your hand in marriage.” My dad sends me a look, like he’d be disappointed if I didn’t.

Newsflash: I didn’t.

“Actually…” Scottie drains the water from the sink and busies herself while answering my dad. “My father passed away when I was very young.”

I should have known that.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.” My mom sends her a soft look before smacking my dad on the arm.

A sweet burst of laughter leaves Scottie. “It’s okay. If I don’t talk about him every once in a while, then I’m afraid he’ll be forgotten.” She shrugs in a sad way, and I don’t like it. “He would have liked Emory, though.”

Pride swells, and I can’t pretend that isn’t completely fucked up.

Her pretty eyes linger on my face for a couple of seconds before she moves back to my parents. I start to busy myself with drying dishes and act uninterested, but I’m hanging onto her every word.

“My father was a huge hockey fan. He is the reason I got into hockey, actually. He’d get us season tickets, and we’d go to all the Blue Devils games together. I actually still have his shirt with the old team logo on it.”

How did I not know that? I feel like such a dick.

“So he’d be over the moon if he knew I was married to their goalie.” She and my parents laugh while I’m left standing there with a knot in my stomach.

“And what about your mother? Has she met Emory?”

Scottie immediately stiffens. It isn’t noticeable to my parents, but I feel the way she closes off right away. I’m not sure when that happened, but I somehow just know what she’s feeling now.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two.” I turn around and give my parents a look. “I’ve got a game tomorrow, so my wife and I are going to bed.”

Scottie’s head nearly falls off her shoulders.

If her eyes were weapons, I’d be dead.

I can almost hear her silent rebuttal.

My father stands and claps his hands together. “Right, right! Get to bed. I’m here to watch you win, not lose.” The way mymom purses her lips at my dad is something I’ve seen a million times before.

“Everything's the same as you left it in the guest room. Unwashed bedding and all.” I chuckle quietly.

My mom places her hands on her hips again. “Emory Olson! I taught you better than that.”

I shrug. “You’re the only one who sleeps in there. Why wash the bedding after one night of sleep?”

The heat coming from Scottie burns me. I’m prepared for the reprimand as I drag her away, saying a quick goodnight to my parents. They promise to see us in the morning and tell Scottie they can’t wait for her to sit with them at the game.

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