Page 66 of Stick Side
Melody blinked away her troubled thoughts, bringing Eric back into focus. She wasn’t sure what to say to reassure him, so was happy when Ben turned the tide of the conversation. “What tickets, though?” he asked with unassuming curiosity.
As Ben spoke, he moved his hand from her hip to massage slow circles on her lower back.
She couldn’t help but snuggle closer into his side. His caress welcomed her in, and he was too tempting to resist. He felt so warm and he smelled so good.
“My dad is planning to surprise my mom with airline tickets for their thirtieth wedding anniversary,” she revealed by way of explanation.
Kevin whistled in a way she took to be a respectful salute to her parents’ milestone anniversary.
“Has he been dragging his feet about picking a destination?” Richie asked, joining the conversation.
“No, nothing like that,” she explained. “Dad’s planning to take her to Paris for a romantic weekend. It was their first big trip together, so there’s nostalgia there. He’s just been dragging hisfeet about the whole thing because he feels badly about leaving me alone over Thanksgiving.”
“Come home with me,” Ben said simply.
She tilted her head up and gaped at him. “Excuse me?” she asked with a nervous chuckle.
He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Come home with me,” he repeated.
She made an unintelligible sound and directed a wide-eyed stare his way. It would seem the muteness that had befallen Eric moments before was catching.
“It’s really not a big deal, Melody,” Ben explained in measured, even tones she found very soothing to her senses. “My parents are big fans of what Mom likes to call ‘Orphan Thanksgivings.’ She hates the idea of anyone being alone for the holidays, so she usually invites anyone from the neighborhood over who doesn’t have family to spend it with.”
Once again, her gaze swept over the other players clustered around the locker room. Most seemed to have regained their composure following the unveiling of the budding relationship, but her eyes faltered when they landed on Eric. His scowl was still very much in place.
Melody knew Eric was protective of the people he cared about, but his reaction seemed a little over the top.
“It’s an open invitation,” Ben said, drawing her focused attention back to him. “My parents have a big house with lots of extra bedrooms if anyone else is facing a holiday alone.”
“Really?” Alexei Volkov asked with excitement. “My whole family is in Russia. I do not have anyone here.”
“I’m in if some other guys are,” Brendan O’Rourke added. “My family’s in Ireland, so there’s no way I could make it home during the two days we have off.”
Ben gave her hand another encouraging squeeze before turning back to the group and stating, “My parents’ place is lessthan a two-hour drive from here. We could easily make it for a Thanksgiving celebration in our time off.”
As the locker room broke out into a discussion of possibilities and logistics for a Thanksgiving chez Logan, Ben gently tugged her toward him, claiming her attention. “What about you, Melody? Will you come home for Thanksgiving with me?”
There was no resisting the warm coaxing in Ben’s seductive hazel eyes. “I’d love to,” she agreed.
Gladness filled her as her eyes touched on the extended hockey family she would be spending her holidays with. It might make for an atypical holiday, but the mere prospect was already enough to leave her feeling thankful.
Chapter 32
Ben
Benfiddledwiththebuttons on his shirt as he waited for one of his parents to pick up the phone. He prayed his father would answer. Just maybe, another man would be able to understand the impulse that had compelled him to invite half of his team home for Thanksgiving. And maybe, just maybe, if Robert Logan understood it, he could explain it to his son because Ben could still barely explain it to himself. He really didn’t want to have to puzzle this one out to his mother.
“Hello,” a familiar female voice answered after four rings.
Crap. Ben cringed. “Hi, Mom.”
“Benjamin Patrick Logan,” his mother enunciated slowly. “What did you do? Your voice has the same quality to it that it had just before you told me you’d driven our tractor into the Fitzgibbons’ barn.”
“Ugh,” Ben groaned, not eager to revisit that particular memory on top of everything else. “That happened seventeen years ago, Mom. Aren’t you ever going to let me forget it?”
“No,” Cathy Logan assured him with far more fervor than Ben would have liked to have heard. “Especially not if the memoryhelps to inspire you not to do stupid things. If you didn’t want to be reminded about it, you never should have done it. Case closed.”
“Doesn’t it matter that I spent all of my free time rebuilding the Fitzgibbons’ barn until it was as good as new?” Ben asked tiredly. They’d been over this more times than he cared to remember.
