Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“And now you’re with the Titans,” I add on with a smile.
“And very glad to be at your table today. Thank you again for taking in us poor souls.” Rafferty cuts a piece of turkey and waves it at me. “What’s the deal with you and King?”
I almost choke on the green beans in my mouth but manage to chew while shooting a quick glance at King who just smiles in amusement. I swallow, look back to Rafferty. “We’re coaching the Ice Pups together. He graciously volunteered to help me since I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Right,” Rafferty says, still waving the fork. I tense for the inevitable question about how we’re going out on a date. “But how did you meet? He was low on details.”
“Oh,” I say with a laugh that I hope doesn’t sound too relieved. “I believe he saw my ineptitude during a game and felt sorry for me.”
“Wrong,” King says with a shake of his head. “I saw her take a father to task for being too tough on his kid. The guy was a total”—his eyes cut to Izzy, then back to Rafferty—“jerk, and I knew she’d run into that again. Besides… it’s fun to coach kids.”
“Kids give me the willies,” North says and then looks to Izzy who is following the conversation. “Except for you, of course.”
Not sure Izzy really gets what he was saying but she grins at him. “My mom says I’m precocious.”
Everyone at the table laughs and the conversation continues to flow. Talk turns to the two away games that the Titans had this week against the Edmonton Grizzlies and the Calgary Wild. Brittany, Izzy and I watched the games, although Izzy fell asleep before they were over.
“I saw you on TV, Coach King,” she says. “It was cool. I want to play for the Titans one day.”
King doesn’t try to dissuade her since it’s predominantly a man’s sport at the professional level but instead says, “You keep hustling like you do, you’ll be a great hockey player.”
As the conversation continues with Brittany peppering the guys with questions, I lean over to King. Whispering, I ask, “Did you tell your friends we’re going out on a date?”
His smile is mischievous and I brace, but then he shakes his head. “No. Figured you wouldn’t want that known and besides that, I don’t feel like them hounding me for details.”
I’m not sure if I want it known or not. I suppose we’ll have to get through the date to see how I feel. But for now, King’s teammates seem to think this is nothing more than a new friendship born out of co-coaching little kids.
“But,” King says, leaning in even closer and lowering his voice, “I have to say I cannot wait to see you tomorrow and have you to myself.”
A shiver runs up my spine, his words uttered in a rumbling timbre that bears the hint of some intangible promise, one I am dying to see fulfilled, whatever it may be.
“I’m excited too,” I admit and then turn my focus back to the conversation at the table.
CHAPTER 9
King
As we drive through the city, Willa looks over at me, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “So, where are we going?” she asks.
I chuckle. “It’s a surprise.”
I’d only told her to dress warm and casual for our date tonight, and she’d hit the mark while looking very stylish. Her long legs look fabulous in a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans that she paired with a cream-colored turtleneck and a navy, quilted vest. Over that she’s wearing a navy peacoat and her only deviation from casual are the camel-colored boots with a pegged heel. No worries… she won’t be wearing them long.
Narrowing her eyes at me playfully, she says, “Here’s some Willa 101. I’m not a fan of surprises.”
I grin, eyes back on the road. “Trust me, you’ll like this one.”
The drive doesn’t take long and we reminisce about the prior evening’s festivities at her house. Dinner was amazing and the company even better. After we ate, I dragged Rafferty and North into the kitchen to clean up. It was a move that Willa protested, but Brittany happily sat on one of the island stools and gave orders and pointed where things went. After the kitchen was tidied and take-home plates were tucked away in the fridge for each of us guys, Izzy insisted on playing Heads Up. I guess in deference to the men, Willa put football on the TV, but for the most part, we were all in on the game—fast-paced group charades that had us acting like fools and laughing our asses off.
When it was time to leave, I’ll admit I didn’t want to go. But I kept that to myself, instead giving Willa the same friendly hug I gave Brittany and Izzy.