Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“But you’re not alone, Connor,” I argue. “You have a whole team who will be the family you choose instead of the one you were born into, if you let them. And what about Quinn? He’s a real friend outside of hockey. He stood up for you at your wedding.”
“He gets me in a way most of the other guys don’t,” Connor agrees.
“Why? What’s different about him?” There’s something about Quinn. He has an edge to him.
“He feels…cursed.”
“Cursed how?”
“He’s named after his uncle.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“His dad watched him die when they were kids.”
“Oh my gosh. What happened?”
“They were jumped by a bunch of kids on the way home from school. Quinn’s dad, Lance, survived, but his uncle didn’t. His entire family fell apart, and Lance moved to the States to live with his aunt. He found hockey, and the rest is history.”
“That would have been devastating.”
“I’m sure it was. But Quinn’s name is a weight he carries, and his dad’s career was a strong one. Quinn finally gets his chance in the pros, but now he has the legacy to live up to.”
It seems everyone has a history, dark secrets they carry with them. “It’s the same for Kodiak, too, though, right?”
“Yes and no. Kodiak is a better player than his dad. He’s in a league of his own. Quinn is just starting. He’s fighting to keep his spot. He feels like he has to prove that it isn’t his father’s legacy that brought him here. He’s terrified that he isn’t good enough.”
“And you?” I ask. “What are you terrified of?”
“Becoming like my parents.”
“Seems pretty unlikely.”
“I don’t know about that. They’re not married to each other because they like each other.”
“They’re together because they wanted to make their Meems happy?” I say cheekily.
He snorts.
“Then I stand by my original assertion that it seems unlikely you’ll end up like your parents. Probably as unlikely as it is for me to end up like mine.”
“You’re a miracle,” Connor says softly.
“Based on what I’ve seen of your parents, so are you and your sisters.”
I switch gears and ask Connor to tell me stories about his sisters growing up. I’m always a little obsessed with other people’s holiday celebrations. I don’t have family traditions, so I’m interested to learn about them.
Eventually we pull off the highway. The trees are beginning to change colors up here, with vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges dotting the landscape.
“We’re about a ten-minute drive off the highway, and Flip and Lexi know where we’re staying. There’s reception out here, and we’re only a short trip to the closest town,” Connor tells me. “And there are a bunch of permanent residents on the lake.”
“I’m not afraid to be alone with you, Connor,” I assure him.
“I just want you to feel safe.”
The paved road turns into gravel, which pings aggressively off the side of his very expensive car, but Connor doesn’t seem to care. We pull into the driveway and he parks, asking me to wait so he can open my door. I step out into the crisp afternoon, breathing in the scent of pine and fall leaves.
Connor grabs our bags, and I shoulder my purse and the small cooler bag of leftovers from our room and brunch. The trees form a canopy, the sun peeking through. I follow Connor down the path to a rustic but gorgeous wood cabin perched on the edge of a steep hill. He punches in the code and ushers me inside.
“Oh my gosh.” I toe off my shoes and pad into the warm, homey space. I drop the cooler bag on the kitchen counter. The far wall is all windows, boasting a stunning view of the lake, the trees a bright wash of color, but it’s the living room that has tears springing to my eyes. Two walls consist of floor-to-ceiling built-in shelves, filled with books, and there’s even a recessed reading nook with enough space for two. In the center of the room is a couch and a coffee table, piled high with board games. A fire crackles invitingly in the hearth.
I turn to Connor, who stands a few feet away, wearing a hopeful expression.
“This is perfect, Connor.”
A proud smile lights up his face at my approval. “Good. That’s good. I hoped you would love it.”
I cross over and wrap my arms around his waist. His strong arms encircle me, and I rest my cheek on his chest, comforted by the steady beat of his heart. “Such a sweet, thoughtful villain.”
“Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”
I look up, taking in his beautiful, harsh face. “Why did you do this for me?”
We could have gone anywhere. His family has a private jet. It would have been nothing to fly us to an island. But here we are, a short drive from the city, surrounded by books and board games.