Though she’d said she would sleep after the game, Gage knew she’d been awake most of the night. He had been too, listening to her pace, talk to someone on the phone, go down to the kitchen for a snack, and pace some more. It had stopped around three in the morning, so he’d dozed off as well, but she’d been up at seven and was downstairs thirty minutes later. She wore a track suit, white running shoes on her feet, her hair in a ponytail. She was dressed for work but she had light makeup on. She’d told him once she always wore a little mascara and lip gloss even when she played because she liked to be well put together no matter how much of an athlete she was. He found it charming she still did it.
“Good morning,” he said quietly.
“Hi.” She glanced up from her coffee cup. “Are you driving me in or am I driving myself?”
“I’ll take you. I have to deal with the coaches cleaning out their offices and I want to be around just in case anyone from the media gets in.”
“Today is a one hundred percent closed practice,” Laurel said. “It’s going to be very unconventional, very private, and very intense. Can you make sure no one gets wind of it?”
“Absolutely. What are you going to do?” he asked curiously.
“You’ll see.” She smiled, downed the last gulp of coffee and got to her feet. “How soon can you be ready to go? I have a lot to do.”
“Ten minutes if you’ll fill a travel mug for me?”
“Sure.”
As promised, ten minutes later they were on the way to the arena. Laurel was quiet, obviously lost in thought. Gage hadn’t spent any significant time with her in a decade, and this Laurel was different than the one he remembered. They were both older but there was something missing in her now that he hadn’t noticed was absent in their previous encounters. One of the many things he’d loved about her was her joie de vivre, the way she embraced every day as if it was the best ever. Even during the most stressful times, she looked at every cup as half full, from the rain on their wedding day to the day he’d told her he was shipping out to Afghanistan. She’d always had her own personal inner light that shone on everyone around her. Especially him.
The first time he’d seen her without it had been the day he came back from deployment. It had been the mission where he’d met Chains, a period of time that changed everything he thought he’d known about life. All he’d wanted was to hold his wife, the woman he loved, and let her light brighten the darkness that had shadowed his soul. Instead, he’d looked into a pale, drawn face, a woman who’d somehow been beaten down even more than he had. Yet even now, a decade later, he didn’t know what had happened. She’d asked him for a divorce that same day and no amount of begging, pleading, arguing, cajoling, or promising had caused her to tell him why. All she’d ever said was that she didn’t want to be a military wife, didn’t want to spend her life never knowing if he was alive or dead.
In retrospect, it had never sat well with him. She’d known he would owe the Marines four years after college, and she’d never had a problem with it, but once he’d gone, she’d changed. Something had happened, of that he had no doubt, but he was damned if he’d ever been able to get it out of her. She’d closed off a huge part of herself, to him at least, and even in their most intimate moments, she kept her secrets and left them both emotionally void. He’d never gotten over her and though she claimed to want nothing to do with him, he’d never seen her with another man, never heard their mutual friends say she was involved with anyone, and she’d certainly never remarried. Hell, it had taken her years to sign the final papers.
“Stop staring at me and wondering what I’m thinking,” she muttered, not looking up from what she was typing on her phone.
“I’m not wondering what you’re thinking,” he responded easily. “I was wondering who you’ve become.”
Her fingers paused on the keyboard and she slowly looked up, narrowing her hazel eyes. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” He met her gaze without wavering. “I don’t know who you’ve become over the last decade and I’m curious.”
“I’m working,” she responded, equally unfazed. “I’m not sure what you see or what you’re looking for, but what you see now probably isn’t accurate.”
“I see a woman who doesn’t smile the way she used to.”
“Every twenty-year-old who’s in love smiles a lot. Once you get past that, you realize there’s a lot more to life than love.”
“That’s a jaded statement if I ever heard one.”
“That’s reality. Now would you hush so I can think?” She hit a few more buttons and then put the phone to her ear. “Good morning… Yes, I’ll be there in a few minutes… Okay. Thanks, Dani. I appreciate it.” She disconnected and glanced up again. “What?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Coach Saunders at work. On TV, of course, but not behind the scenes like this.”
“And?”
“It’s impressive. You were always tough on the inside but a lot softer and sweeter on the outside. Now I see your inner strength reflected in everything you do.”
“You’ve seen me speak at a couple of meetings, lose my first game coaching a professional team, and talk to one of my friends on the phone for thirty seconds. What on earth did you possibly ascertain from that?”
“I saw you stand up for yourself and my decision to a group of men who were obviously trying to intimidate you, something nineteen-year-old Laurel never would have done. I saw you lay down the law to a group of professional athletes without batting an eyelash. I also saw the love and respect you got from Dani and Hailey, as well as from Sergei and Kane, and the way every one of those men hung on your every word, even if they didn’t like what you said. Thirty-year-old Laurel is a lot different.”
“Thirty-five-year-old Laurel is an adult, with a successful career and a lot of life experiences behind her. Please don’t tell me that thirty-six-year-old Gage is exactly like twenty-two-year-old Gage.”
“Deep down, yes. I think I’m still the same.”
Laurel was silent for a moment, looking away just as the car stopped in the parking lot of the arena. “That’s a shame,” she whispered as she got out of the car.
Laurel went to the office she was using, locked up her purse, and then headed down to ice level with what she’d need for practice. Rose fell into step beside her as they walked.
“Do you remember the way?” she asked, a friendly smile on her face. “It took me two full weeks to remember how to get down to the locker rooms and the ice. It’s a maze down there.”
“No, but I figured I’d eventually run into someone who would point me in the right direction,” Laurel laughed.
“Great, then we can walk and talk at the same time.” Rose dug some papers out of the folder she carried. “These are tax forms you need to fill out. I’ll leave them on your desk but it’s important everything is filled out and signed today or we could get into all kinds of trouble.”
“No problem.”
“There are health forms and such as well. Your contract is only through the end of the season, whenever that happens to be, based on the playoffs; you need to read and sign everything, including the health insurance waiver if you choose not to utilize it.”
“I’ll have to look at everything later.”
“Of course, but I wanted to impress upon you the legalities make it imperative they’re signed today.”
“After practice.”
Rose explained a few more items that needed her signature and then motioned with her hand. “Locker room to the right, the tunnel leading to the ice to the left.”
“Thank you, Rose. I’ll be sure to sign everything before the end of the business day.”
“You’re welcome. And just text me if you need anything. I can be down here in a couple of minutes.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Very good. I’ll see you later.”
“Oh, Rose…” Laurel paused. “There is one thing you can do for me.”
“Of course.”
“Can you make sure no one is permitted to watch practice today? I know the sales team sometimes bring clients in as an incentive, to sell season tickets or corporate packages, but not today. It’s very important that no one see this practice.”
Rose smiled as if she understood. “Absolutely. In fact, I think today might be the perfect day for Mr. Caldwell to discuss the new health insurance options we’re exploring for next year. Over lunch. I could have Italian brought in…” She was still mumbling to herself as she pivoted back towards the elevator.
Laurel watched her go with a smile, almost wishing she could take Rose home to Colorado with her. She’d never worked with anyone so efficient and quick on her feet. She’d have to mention it to Gage.
“Hey, Coach.” Hailey came around the corner with a grin. “I’ve never suited up with Kane before, outside of a casual game between friends. It’s a new relationship goal for us.”
Laurel snorted out a laugh. “I don’t think I need to hear about that.”
“I didn’t tell Kane what was going on until we got here,” Hailey giggled. “It was awesome watching his face as I started to gear up in the locker room. He was so confused.”
Laurel momentarily forgot about everything going on and laughed too. “You’re so funny. Are you excited about the wedding?”
Hailey sobered. “Meh. Not really. I’m fighting with my stepsisters about what to wear. I’m fighting with my stepmom about the flowers. My dad is hurt because he’s not paying for it—”
“Then why isn’t he paying for it?” Laurel asked curiously.
“Because they can’t afford it. Kane wants a big, fairy-tale wedding and my dad doesn’t have that kind of money. Especially not with my stepsisters eventually expecting him to pay for their weddings. He won’t admit it, though, so it’s just been one thing after another. Anyway, we shouldn’t be talking about me today. You ready for this? These poor guys won’t know what’s hitting them.”
“They’re going to be pissed,” Laurel said with a grin. “And I can’t wait to see it light a fire under their asses.”
“What if it backfires?” Hailey asked softly, her blue eyes meeting Laurel’s.
“Based on their performance last night, we have nothing to lose.”
Hailey nodded just as Dani came out of the locker room with a pretty brunette. “Hey, Coach. This is Sarah Chandler. Sarah, Laurel Saunders.”
“Nice to meet you.” Laurel shook the younger woman’s hand. “I watched you in college. I thought for sure you’d try out for the Olympic team.”
Sarah shook her head. “I’m not a glutton for punishment. A medal would’ve been nice, but I really couldn’t afford it. I needed to go to work. But I’m glad to be here today.”
“I’m excited to have you on the team, so to speak.”
They stood in the hallway chatting as the guys started to arrive, and Laurel made her excuses, leaving the rest of her plan in Dani’s capable hands and going down to the ice. Sitting on the bench, she took a moment to appreciate the enormity of what she was doing. No matter what the circumstances were, even throwing Gage into the mix, being here as the head coach of the Alaska Blizzard was a tremendous experience. Her boss in Colorado had been disappointed but understanding, while her family had been completely baffled. Most people close to her thought she’d left Gage because she didn’t want to be a military wife and they’d all told her it was a huge mistake. It had been her choice to let them think that, though, so now all she could say was that it was purely a business opportunity. And that’s what it was.
Right?
She hoped so.
It didn’t matter right now, though, because she had a hockey team to whip into shape and today was going to be tough all around.