Page 29 of Three Pucking Words
It’s Elias who waves off my worry, bringing his hand out to take mine and cupping it between his two palms. “Nonsense, Honor. We take care of our own, and a friend of Bodhi is a friend of ours.”
His reassurance doesn’t make me feel any better, even when they sit us at a table off to the side that’s already set and pour water into our glasses.
“Your usual?” Nina asks Bodhi with a raised eyebrow.
Bodhi grins. “Of course. With extra—”
“Tzatziki sauce on the side,” she finishes for him, turning to me. “He loves our lamb gyros. Would you like the same thing? I can bring a menu over if you’d prefer looking at something else. We specialize in Greek cuisine.”
Greek.I knew it. “That sounds good to me.”
Truthfully, I’m not very hungry. Any appetite I may have had got squashed the second I closed myself into the tight quarters of Bodhi’s truck. I shouldn’t have been shocked that he opted to drive a full size four-door pickup in the city. The maroon vehiclesomehow fits him—makes his broad shoulders and bulky frame seem that much bigger in the cab.
Bodhi sips his water. “So ask away,” he prompts, leaning back in his chair.
My first question has nothing to do with hockey. “How do you know Nina and Elias?”
He doesn’t seem to mind. “I wandered in here a few years ago when I was out and about. It’s a small place, so even when they’re open it’s easier to hear people talk versus at bigger restaurants. And everything they sell and serve is homemade. Can’t get better than that.”
That must mean he takes dates here. Jealousy, unwarranted and unwanted, tugs on my heart.
“What’s that face for?” he asks curiously, lowering his water down.
I don’t realize I’m making one until I’m called out for it. “Do you bring a lot of women here?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Instantly, I cringe.
Now his smile is hiked up another notch on his face, and it makes his eyes shine. “Would that make you jealous if I said yes?”
I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest.Play it off, Honor.“No. I’m just curious.”
He has the opportunity to call me out for the lie that I hope isn’t obvious. If there’s one thing my mother gave me other than my facial features, it’s my ability to sound believable. Sometimes the skill even scaresme. “I like to keep this place to myself. I’ve brought some of my buddies here before, but that’s rare. Usually, it’s just me, and sometimes my daughter. Nina even started making chicken tenders solely for Gemma when she’d tagalong.”
Nina made his daughter homemade chicken tenders? That’s…wow. “They must love you,” I note, voice softer thanbefore. Gone is the little green monster that pokes at my heart as I think back to his daughter’s face lighting up when she pet Puck.
“I tip well,” he jokes, making me roll my eyes knowing that’s a nonsense answer. “Honestly, they’re like a second family to me. Mine all live in Vermont. It’s not that far if I want to visit, but it’s difficult this time of year.”
Because of his schedule. “You’re lucky that Gemma’s grandparents live close by and can watch her.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he stares off at something behind me. “They relocated for her, actually. We have an agreement that took some time to come up with involving custody. Gem’s mom…” He pauses, finally meeting my eyes. “She passed away a while ago. Her parents were insistent on raising Gemma on their own, but I wanted to be there for my daughter. It was a rough time figuring out the details, but everybody seems happy now. We all get to be in her life, and I’m grateful for them every day that they came here for my career.”
I’m both impressed and saddened by the news at the same time. I’d known about his daughter since the beginning. What was it that he told me the night we met?I never knew I could love someone so unconditionally until I saw her in the ultrasound picture.Hearing him talk about her was a mesmerizing moment that I still think about. I don’t know how much he drank before he’d sat down at my table, but it was enough to glaze his eyes and teeter his body whenever he’d stand to use the bathroom or order another beer.
He’d made himself a promise that night—an oath. To be better for his unborn child.
“I’m sorry to hear about her mother,” I finally tell him, meaning it. It seems unreal that the last time we spoke, Gemma’s mother was alive and well. Bodhi never said a bad thing about her; never cussed her out or called her nameseven when he said he wasn’t sure he wanted to be with her. I respected him a lot for that, because most men would have.
My chest swells when he lifts a shoulder and finishes his water. “It is what it is. All I can focus on is being the best dad to my little girl. I made a promise to myself that I would.”
He remembers the oath he’d made to himself but he doesn’t remember me? I have no right to be upset by that, but disappointment settles into my gut anyway.
Yet, warmth covers my heart like a blanket despite that pang of hurt. He’s really making it hard to not like him. He’s attractive, good with kids, andwantsto be a great girl dad. I swear my ovaries threaten to combust. I bet he braids her hair and paints her nails and plays tea party.
Clearing my throat, I drag my water cup closer to me and stare at the condensation dripping down the sides. “So how many players are on the team?” I ask, moving the topic to safer territory where I’m not picturing him cross-legged on the floor trying to figure out how to French braid.
Bodhi’s lips tilt at one corner, but he goes along with it. “There are twenty-three players on the active roster, but forty-three of us under contract. Which means only those of us active see ice time unless one of the players gets seriously injured and needs time to recover.”
“Then they’ll pull in one of the people under contract to fill in?” I guess.
