Page 38 of Cross Checks

“Yeah, do you want to go down there and join the team?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

The atmosphere at Lou’s was warm and boisterous, as usual, after a winning game. I sat at one of the booths, and Hank squeezed in beside me. He placed his hand on my thigh under the table, out of sight from others in the bar.

He whispered in my ear. “You played your heart out today, didn’t you?”

“I gave it 100%.”

“Did you spot the scout?”

I shook my head. “Nowhere to be seen.”

“Hey, guys.” Jensen’s voice cut through the noise as he approached the booth. “Good to see support from the firehouse.” He turned toward Hank and offered his hand. “If you follow us regularly, you probably know I’m Rick Jensen.”

Hank shook firmly. “Yes, and I’m a long-term fan.”

“Good, good.” A woman stood at Jensen’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling. As they both slipped into the booth opposite us, her smile lit up the room.

“Are you going to introduce your guest, Jensen?” I prodded.

“Chase, Hank, this here is Beth. We’ve been dating for a while now, and I’m trying hard to convert her into a hockey fan.”

She chuckled softly. “The rumors that I don’t care about hockey are exaggerated.”

“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand across the table, and her grip was confident. She was no shrinking violet and a perfect match for Jensen’s boisterous personality.

“Likewise,” she replied. “Rick’s told me so much about you, Chase, and,” she looked directly at Hank, “are you the firefighter who saved his life?”

“That might be a little bit of an exaggeration, too, but I did carry him out of a burning locker room,” Hank verified.

“Hopefully, you’ve only heard good things,” I said. “With Jensen, you never know.”

“Only the good stuff,” she assured me.

We all fell into easy conversation, and I marveled at how well Beth fit in with the three of us. It was like she was the friend who was always out there, but it took us this long to find her.

When we all had drinks, I raised my bottle of beer. “Cheers. I’ll toast tonight’s victory and the support of the best community in the world—Cold Pines, Maine.”

“Here, here,” added Jensen, and the clink of bottles and glasses sealed our shared sentiment.

Chapter12

Hank

Isat in the firehouse, drinking a stiff cup of coffee as the sun rose. I’d worked the graveyard shift, which meant a night away from Chase. The aroma of burnt toast lingered in the air. Gary wasn’t our top breakfast chef.

“Hey, Hank,” said a voice breaking through my distracted thoughts. It was Jerry, another of my fellow firefighters, wiping engine grease off his hands with a rag.

“I saw you and that big-shot hockey player, Chase Taylor, at Lou’s the other night. You two seemed…really friendly.” He stopped there and raised an eyebrow.

My heart sank like a lead bar dropped in water. It looked like the fragile walls around our private world were starting to crumble. We hadn’t been careful enough to stop rumors.

“Yeah, well, we’ve been friends for a while now.” I tried to shrug it off. “He’s a good guy and fun for hanging out at the bar.”

“Uh-huh,” Jerry replied. I heard the skepticism in his voice as he studied me. He held the gaze just a little too long, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

Fortunately, he didn’t push any further. He walked away, mumbling, “Just curious.”

---