Page 16 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“Damon knows the rules.I’m surprised he asked you to come overbeforehe finished his homework.He’s pushing his limits here.He’s letting his fanboying—is that a thing?”
He shrugged.“Sure?”
I shook my head.“Anyway, he’s letting his fanboying cloud his judgment.And while I understand kids push boundaries and test limits, this is a very firm rule I’ve had with the kids since they came home with their first homework assignment.”
“Soooo … you want me to leave?”
I exhaled in frustration.No, I didn’t want him to leave.But, yes, I wanted him to leave.He was very nice to look at.Gave me tingles in all the tingly places, and he brought Damon out of his room and got my kid talking.
But his presence also had my kid pushing our well-established boundaries, and made me get unwelcomed and very inconvenient tingles in all my tingly places.
Maverick Roy grew up in my house.I did his laundry—sometimes.I fed him.I housed him.I watched him arrive as a pimple-faced teenager, and leave as this taller, deep-voiced man, destined for greatness.
And yet, I didn’t see him as that pimple-faced teenager anymore.And I certainly never had tingly thoughts about him when he lived under my roof.Not once.Never.
“I met Logan and Renée last night at the pub.They seem cool.”He leaned against the counter and crossed one ankle over the other.Why did I find that sexy?
“Yeah?”
“They said there’s not much to do on the island during the winter months.Is that true?”
“I’m afraid so.Everyone just kind of hibernates until the spring, then we all thaw out and emerge from the muddy winter like daffodils.”
He snorted and smiled.“So what do you do then?”
“Me?”My brows lifted.“Work.”
“Not all day, every day.What do you do for fun?”
Fun?What was this thing he calledfun?
As if reading my mind, his smile grew wily.“You know … F-U-N.Fun.It means to find enjoyment; light-hearted pleasure.Merrymaking, if you will.”
“Not much time to make merry, I’m afraid.There are bills to pay, mouths to feed …”
“Ain’t nothing in this world for free,” he sung.
I gave him a confused look.
“Oh, I thought we were singing a Cage the Elephant song.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.Come on … you’ve got to dosomethingfor fun.Logan told me about a book club and a sewing circle.Neither of those appeal to me, but …” He lifted one shoulder.“If you went to something, maybe we could go together?”
I shook my head and brought down two mugs.“No.I do notgoto anything.I work until the kids get home, then I help them with homework and make dinner.We’re very boring here.But we like it.”
“Are the kids in extracurricular activities?”
“Laurel does a watercolor class at the art studio on Friday evenings.Damon plays videogames.I have offered for them to do more, but neither is interested.”
His frown mimicked one I felt in my heart.We got out of the cult we were part of before Laurel was born, with the hopes of embracing all the world had to offer, since none of that was allowed under the controlling thumb of my husband.And yet, my children weren’t interested.
“Watercolor, hmm?”
“She enjoys it.She goes with her cousin, Honor—Naomi’s daughter.We tried to get Sam—Danica’s daughter—to go to, but her anxiety spiked when we got there, so I brought her home.”
“Think they’ve got any openings?”he asked.
