Page 30 of Worth the Chase

I fidgeted for only a second, suddenly nervous around my old man—and I was never nervous around him. “I’m meeting Bella at the diner. I think I might have bought a house.”

He grinned so big that all the wrinkles exposed themselves around his eyes. “A house, huh?” He moved to peek inside Thomas’s office. “Did you know this knucklehead went and bought himself a house? Am I the last to know? You boys don’t tell me anything anymore.”

“I literally just found out,” Thomas said as he joined us in the hallway.

“I put in an offer, and I was waiting to see if I’d get it or not,” I explained, feeling guilty for leaving my dad out of this decision, but I’d been leaving everyone out of everything lately.

“That’s exciting news. Let us know if you get it. And tell that little Isabella I said hi. You should bring her to the farm for dinner,” he said with a mischievous grin.

Did everyone know I was obsessed with the woman?

“Have you seen the way she reacts to him?” Thomas asked with a laugh, and my dad actually started cracking up as well.

They were both standing there, laughing…at me.

“I’ve never seen a girl dislike you before,” my dad added as he tried to catch his breath.

“I am so glad this amuses all of you.”

“I’m just giving you hell, son.” My dad clapped my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “You’ve never had a problem with the ladies, so it’s entertaining, to say the least,” he added, and I shot Thomas an annoyed look.

“I told you, it’s fun to watch,” Thomas said with a shrug.

“I’m leaving,” I announced before I did something embarrassing, like pout in public.

I didn’t even wait for them to respond before I headed through the hallway and into the massive open entryway where the check-in desk was located. There was a small crowd in the lobby, and I realized that I had no idea what went on here anymore. I’d been so detached, doing the bare minimum, and I suddenly felt like shit about it.

“Uh, excuse me.” An older man stared at me.

I stopped walking and remembered who I was. An O’Grady. Part owner of this resort.

“Can I help you?” I asked, putting on my problem-solving charm.

“Are you Matthew O’Grady?”

I cleared my throat. “I am.”

“I knew it.” He sounded excited. “I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re my son’s absolute favorite hockey player.”

I almost asked him if I still was now that I was retired and never going to skate professionally again, but I stopped myself.

“Thank you. Do you want a picture, or do you want me to sign something?” I offered.

Sometimes, people got so caught up in who I was that they completely spaced. I’d be standing there, waiting for them to find their words, but they’d never come. I’d learned pretty quickly in situations like that to initiate or offer a suggestion. That typically helped.

“Oh. Yes. I mean, either would be great.” He started looking around and fidgeting in his pockets, like he might magically have a puck in there. “I don’t have anything for you to sign.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be right back,” I said.

I made my way toward Mr. Gonzales at the concierge desk. He’d worked there for as long as I could remember.

“Hey, Mr. G,” I said with a grin, and he reached out his hand to shake mine.

“One second,” he said before pulling open a drawer and digging through the back of it.

I had no idea what he was searching for, but when he held a puck and a silver Sharpie in his hand, I was surprised.

“You have hockey pucks in your drawer?” I asked through my shock.

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