Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Yeah, it was definitely time to move on.
“Do you like selling insurance?” I asked during a commercial.
My friend shrugged. “Pays the bills. It’s not my dream job, but I never got the sweet contract you did.”
“Did I get one of those?” I snarked, pointing at my chest.
“You know you fuckin’ did.”
“I did okay, but contrary to what my mother thinks, I’m not rolling in dough.”
He quirked a brow. “How is she doing?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her sober the entire time I’ve been here.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“Me too. Every time my phone buzzes, I tense up. Is she okay? Did something happen? Or…does she just want more cash?”
Buzz buzz
And what do you know?
Jimmy and I gaped at each other with matching “yikes” faces. I grabbed my cell from the coffee table and frowned at the caller ID.
“Is that her?” Jimmy asked.
“No, it’s Riley Thoreau.”
He bugged his eyes out incredulously. “Riley fucking Thoreau is texting you? What the actual fuck? What does he want?”
Congrats on your retirement, Smitty. Hey, I know it’s a long shot, but the coach I hired just pulled out and I’m desperate. If you know anyone who might be interested, call me. Thanks!
“He needs a high school coach.” I pocketed my phone, intending to text him later.
“Doesn’t he know you’re going to be a fancy analyst?”
I snorted. “Yeah, something like that. Not me. He wants me to keep an eye out.”
“Oh. Well, you’re a good coach. Just sayin’.”
“Thanks. You’d have been proud of the boys at the scrimmage today. Defense was looking awesome. Chase was sitting at the goal twiddling his thumbs, waiting for action that rarely came.”
Jimmy held up a hand for a high five. “Well done.”
“The little twerps can be taught. It’s rewarding for sure, but…in October, I’ll be wearing suits like you. Shoot me now.”
He threw a bottle cap at me. “Why don’t you stay here and get a job with the Red Wings?”
“Thanks, genius. Why didn’t I think of that?” I huffed sarcastically. “I’ll walk into headquarters tomorrow and tell ’em to put me in.”
“I don’t mean on the ice, asshole. Get yourself a cushy desk job. You know, the Red Wings might have a shot at the cup next season.” He kicked my shin at my eye roll and scowled. “Don’t tell me you’re rooting for some Canadian team. I don’t think I can forgive that.”
I snickered and was about to tell him to fuck off, but a commotion from the top of the stairs had us both on our feet. A dog barking, a toddler shrieking, a door opening, and—
“Dinner, Daddy!” Jimmy’s six-year-old called at the top of her lungs. “Dinner, Uncle Smitty! We have more people and we need more chairs.”
“We’ll be right there. I didn’t know we were having company. Probably Christina’s sister.” He gestured toward the empty beer bottles littering the coffee table. “Do me a huge favor and dump those in the bin off the kitchen, will ya? I want to change into jeans before I’m on chair duty.”
“You got it.”
I gathered the bottles and trudged upstairs, opening the side door and closing it quickly when the family retriever came racing up behind me. I didn’t want to be responsible for accidentally letting the dog out and theoretically, this wouldn’t take long.
But I couldn’t find the bins at first glance. I stared at the blank space where they should have been and wandered to the end of the narrow path to the street. Bingo. I flipped open the top and deposited the bottles, nodding a greeting to the neighbor collecting her mail. Then I turned back to the house and did a double take.
A woman with long blond hair pulled something from the passenger seat of the minivan parked in Jimmy’s driveway. She closed the door with her hip, laughing at something the guy wearing a Michigan ball cap said.
Blood drained from my face as recognition hit me like a freight train cruising out of a tunnel at top speed. My heart thumped against my rib cage, reverberating throughout my body. My mouth was dry, my palms clammy. It was as if my body were preparing me for the kind of blow I couldn’t shake off and skate away from.
Fuck.
“Smitty?”
I opened my mouth to say…something, but nothing came out. I was frozen in place. And if she hadn’t moved to greet me, I’d probably still be there.
“Rachel.”
I swallowed hard and finally braved a glance at my ex-wife’s swollen belly. Jesus Christ. She really was pregnant. Shock rendered me speechless for a beat too long. Jimmy had warned me, but seeing her in person was a jolt to the system. I didn’t know what to say.
“How are you, Smitty?”
“Fine. You look good,” I rasped.
That was true. Rachel Lindstrom Paluchek…whatever her last name was now—was a pretty blond with warm blue eyes and rosy cheeks. She was small but fierce, the kind of woman who could handle rough times and a little adversity. Thanks to me, she’d had plenty of that, but she’d deserved more. And I supposed she got it.