Chapter 9

Chloe’s breath caught as she took in the tall cowboy standing in the pool of light on her porch. He wore jeans and boots and a brown felt cowboy hat pushed low over his forehead. His tan Carhartt coat was unzipped and open, and he wore a faded denim shirt over an ivory thermal Henley. He looked good enough to eat.

He offered her a shy grin, almost as if he didn’t know what to expect from her either. It was a small smile, no teeth, just the slimmest curve of his lips coupled with a slight inquisitive tilt of his head, but it was enough to twist her stomach in a nervous knot and have her mouth going dry.

Quit looking at his lips and say hello.

“Uh, hi. Colt,” she stammered, then took a step back. “Come on in.”

She must have been shadowed by the light behind her, because when he stepped into the house, his mouth dropped open.

“Wow, look at your hair,” he said, his eyes going wide.

Her free hand fluttered to the side of her head, the knot in her stomach rolling over. With her other hand, she clasped her knitting to her chest, as if the stitched yarn could somehow muffle the sound of her heart pounding against her chest.

What had she done? Had changing her hair been a dumb decision? Did it make it seem like she was trying too hard? She cursed Carley and her mood-lightening highlights. “I had it cut this afternoon.”

“It looks amazing,” he said, then held up his hands. “I mean, it looked good before, I liked it the way it was, but it looks really great now.” He stopped, took a breath, and let it out. “I don’t know why my mouth is not connecting to my brain tonight. Your hair looks nice, Chloe. You look real pretty.”

She bit her lip to keep the beaming smile from completely taking over her face. “Thank you.” They stared at each other, both smiling, but neither offering anything more to say.

“Meow.” Thankfully, the cat saved them as she strolled into the room and rubbed herself against Colt’s legs.

Lucky cat.

He bent down and stroked Agatha’s back, then straightened and nodded his head toward the door. “We should probably get going. You ready?”

“Uh, yeah. The hockey thing. Sure.” She twisted the knitted yarn in her hands. “I didn’t know… I wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”

“Of course I want you. I mean…of course I want you to help me coach the team,” he stammered. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She stared down at her hands. “Because of last night.”

“You mean because you can’t skate that well?”

Yeah, Colt. That’s what I mean. I was worried about last night because of my skating abilities. Nothing at all to do with the lip-locking kiss I awkwardly forced on you while we were on the ice.

But, if that’s how he wanted to play it, she’d go along with the “ignore it and maybe it will go away” option.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Half the kids on the team can barely skate. You’ll learn with them. You just need more practice.”

He could say that again. She needed more practice with a lot of things. Like how to deal with handsome men who made her palms sweat and her chest tight.

His brows knit together. “Do you still want to help with the team?”

“Yes. I do. Maddie really wants to play, and I want her to have that chance. I don’t want to let her down.” She held up the scrunched wad of yarn in her hands. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to pick me up, or if I was still coaching, so I was just doing a little knitting.” Yes, of course, if she couldn’t look nonchalant, she should clumsily try to explain how relaxed and unconcerned she was about whether he was going to show up or not.

“It looks like Agatha is helping you.” He gestured behind her, and she turned to see the cat batting and chasing the ball of yarn that had trailed behind her. A long line of purple yarn was now wrapped around one leg of the coffee table and had unrolled willy-nilly across the room as the cat pursued it like a hunter stalking its prey.

“Oh Mylanta,” Chloe cried, shooing the cat away and trying to gather the yarn as Colt chuckled behind her. Tossing the whole wad on the sofa, she turned back to him. “I’ll deal with this later. Let’s go.” She grabbed her coat off the hook by the door and shoved her arms into the sleeves.

He peered into the tote bag sitting on the bench by the door, then offered her a teasing grin. “For not knowing if I was coming to get you or not, it’s a good thing you were ready.”

She gave a noncommittal shrug, trying to ignore the surges of heat his grin sent racing down her spine. “I like to be prepared.”

“I can tell. It looks like you conveniently prepared a notebook, a clipboard, a Hockey for Dummies handbook, and a first aid kit, and had them ready by the door.”

She playfully glared at him, then grabbed the bag and nudged him on the shoulder as she walked out the door. “Oh, hush up.” At least he was grinning and teasing her again. She’d take that over awkward and embarrassed any day.

As she walked to the truck, Chloe let out a small sigh of relief that they didn’t have to talk about the kiss or what had happened the night before. She was good with pretending it didn’t happen and going back to being friends. She knew how to pretend. She’d spent a lifetime pretending everything was okay. And she could do the same with Colt. Even if hanging around him had her body heating up like a solar panel on a sunny day, she’d take the burn if it meant being with him, hearing him laugh, and having him occasionally touch her back or brush against her hip.

If being Colt’s friend was all she was going to get, then she’d take it.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Colt held the door open for Chloe as they walked into the ice arena. The smell of her hair had him wanting to drag her back to the pickup and have his way with her, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not just because they had a dozen kids and their parents waiting for them, but because Chloe had made it clear the night before that she wasn’t interested in their relationship going in that direction.

She’d still seemed nervous when he picked her up, but that was most likely due to the awkwardness of the botched kiss. He’d done his best to tease her out of it, and he felt like they were okay again. Even if she didn’t want to steam up the windows of his truck with him, he was happy just being around her. She had this thing about her—he couldn’t describe it—it was kind of like the way sunshine felt warm against his skin.

Geez, man. Get a grip on yourself. Since when did he think about women as sunshine and rainbows? Chloe was a nice person, and he felt good when he was around her. He also felt like he had a swarm of angry hornets buzzing in his gut when she smiled at him, but he’d think about that later.

Right now, he had a bunch of kids to get laced into skates and a practice to run. He led Chloe toward the skate-rental booth where he’d left her skates the night before. Logan and Max were standing in front of the booth.

Colt introduced Chloe to his neighbor. “Have you met Logan Rivers? He’s Quinn’s brother, our neighbor, and next to my brothers, probably my best friend.”

She nodded. “We’ve met at some of Max’s school functions and when we all went out after the alumni game this summer. Hi, Logan.”

He tipped his head and smiled warmly. “Hey, Chloe. Thanks for helping out. It’s great that we’ll have a girl on the team. I wish Quinn could have played as a girl. She used to mess around on the pond with us when we were kids, and she could stickhandle better than me.”

“My dog can stickhandle better than you,” Colt ribbed him.

“Hi, Miss Bishop.” Max shouldered his way in front of his uncle and held up a gleaming red-and-black hockey stick. “Isn’t this cool? Rock gave me this new stick, just tonight. I’m gonna score a goal with this one. I just know it.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Chloe agreed.

Colt liked the way she encouraged everyone. “First we’ve got to get the team together, buddy. Can you help me round everyone up?”

Five minutes later, Colt stood in front of the bleachers where Chloe, Logan, a handful of parents, and twelve excited and nervous kids sat.

He introduced himself, Chloe, and Logan, and had the kids say their names and what position they’d like to play. He caught most of the names, trying to memorize them as the kids said either their desired position or mumbled a version of “I don’t know.” He knew Max and Maddie, so he was good with two. He noticed Chloe was furiously scribbling notes on her clipboard as he mentally ran through the other kids’ names—Brock, Dillon, Ryan, Brady, Keith, Floyd, kid with the taped glasses, red-haired set of twins, and a taller heavy-set kid named Gordy, who thankfully said he wanted to play goalie.

As far as Colt was concerned, the kid could have the position. It was much harder to assign the role, so he was thrilled at least one kid had stepped up.

Maddie had claimed she wanted to be the quarterback, and he was fairly certain he’d seen Chloe jot that down. “You don’t have to write that one,” he told her. “We don’t have a quarterback in hockey.”

“I know.” She nodded wisely, then casually erased a line on her page.

“This is a twelve-week season,” Colt explained to everyone. “We’ll practice once a week on Mondays and an occasional Saturday if I can get the ice time, and we’ll have games every Wednesday. I know this is Friday, but tonight is kind of a special deal since we’re doing this meeting and passing out equipment and making sure everyone’s skates fit. I got us an extra hour of ice time because I wanted to give us enough time to skate and go through a couple of basic drills and see where everyone’s skating abilities are.” He raised his gaze to the parents. “We’ll email you with the final schedules, so make sure we have your correct email address and a good phone number to reach you.” This was also how he was planning to get Chloe’s number without having to come out and ask her for it.

“As you know, our sponsor, Rock James, is donating pads and equipment to everyone on the team. We took the measurements and sizes you turned in when you registered, and we have a bag for each of you that contains your skates, helmet, and all your pads.” He patted the line of a dozen roller bags that he and Logan had brought in earlier. “We’re not using sticks tonight, but you all have a certificate to use at the Skate Shop next door to get one free stick of your choice. Otis runs the shop, and he’ll cut your stick to the right height and show you how to tape it up.

“Once you know everything fits and is going to work for you, I want you to have it all labeled with your name before you come to practice on Monday night. Before I pass out the bags, I’m going to go through the uniform and show you how to put everything on.” He held up each piece, starting with the breezers, then moving through the pads, socks, and gloves. Some of the items were self-explanatory, but Colt didn’t want any of the kids to feel dumb for not knowing how something worked or how to put it on. “Gordy will have a few extra pieces, like a blocker and a catcher, and he’ll have extra leg pads since he’s the goalie.”

Gordy grinned, and his shoulders pulled back as the other kids looked at him with envy.

“Everybody wears a helmet and a mouth guard, no exceptions.” He held up a piece of white plastic. “Also, everybody gets one of these. This is an athletic cup, and it protects your family jewels. Trust me on this one. You do not want to forget to put this on. And everyone has to wear one.” He glanced at Madison who was listening intently. “Well, almost everyone. You don’t have to worry about this piece of equipment, Maddie.”

The girl pulled her head back. “Why not? Why don’t I get to wear one too? I’m athletic, and I like to protect my family’s jewels. My mom might not have a lot of diamonds, but she still has some pretty jewelry.”

The boys around her smirked and tittered, some of them knowing what a cup was for and others just knowing what their family jewels were.

“It’s not those kind of jewels, honey,” Chloe told her. She leaned closer and must have whispered the true purpose of the cup into the girl’s ear.

Maddie wrinkled her nose and gave Colt a scathing look. “No thank you. I’ve decided to pass on wearing a cup to practice. Or anywhere.”

“Good choice.” He offered a grateful smile to Chloe, who was holding her clipboard in front of her mouth and trying not to laugh. “Everybody gets a bag, a helmet, and skates tonight. We’ll pass out the bags, and we want you to spread out and get dressed and get your skates on. We’ll come around to help adjust your helmets and answer questions and make sure everything fits.”

He motioned to the older man sitting in the bleachers above them. “This is Otis. He was kind enough to be here tonight to help as well.” Although the giant profit his store made on the sale of all the equipment probably carried a little swaying influence. Colt pointed to a couple of the dads he knew from the alumni team. “And Brock and Dillon’s dads also played hockey so they can help too. If that’s cool with you guys?” Both dads nodded, and the kids clamored off the bleachers in search of their labeled bags.

It took close to an hour, but all the kids finally had their equipment on and made it onto the ice. Colt and Logan led the kids around the rink a couple of times to assess their skating abilities, then broke them into two groups. The more experienced skaters followed Logan to work on drills on one side of the ice, while Colt worked with the less experienced skaters, and Chloe, on the other side. After half an hour of skating, he brought the team back together, and after getting twelve high fives, he sent them off for the night.

He’d had fun. The kids cracked him up, and he enjoyed being out on the ice and talking about the game. Granted, it was only one practice and it didn’t take a lot to impress eight-year-olds, but their first practice had gone well. Everyone had seemed to have a good time. He’d been especially impressed with Maddie, who had attacked skating with the enthusiasm of a shark swimming after its prey. Maybe it was because she was used to hanging out with three brothers, but she fit right in with the other kids, and none of the boys seemed to treat her any differently or think anything odd about having a girl on the team.

“What did you think of your first hockey practice?” he asked Chloe as he collapsed onto the bench next to her. She’d already taken her skates off and changed into her boots while he finished up with the parents.

“It was fun,” she said, straightening the pages of notes on her clipboard. “I learned a lot. And all the parents verified their phone numbers and email addresses with me before they left.”

“Awesome. That reminds me…” He casually pulled his phone from his pocket. “We should probably exchange numbers too. Just in case we need to talk. About the team, or practice, or something.” Real smooth, dude. Real smooth.

“Sure.” She recited her number as she pulled out her phone.

He punched it in, then sent her a text. This is Colt. Hi. Wow. He was on fire tonight with his lady-killing moves.

She tapped at her phone, and then his buzzed in his hand. He read her return message. Hi. This is Chloe. Thanks for asking me to coach. You did great with the kids.

He typed a message back. Thanks. So did you. He held his finger over the emojis, hesitant to add one to his message. He never knew which one to use. The smiley face? The thumbs-up? Both seemed too generic. The heart was too forward, and there was no way he was using the kissing lips, even though he half wanted to. Where was the emoji for “I’m interested in you but am too big of a dork to know how to tell you”?

How could he face down twelve hyper eight-year-olds and inform them they all needed to wear a cup, but get nervous sending a single text message to a woman?

Oh, forget it. This was stupid anyway. She was sitting right next to him. He pushed Send.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Logan ambled over as the last of the kids were leaving.

Quinn and Rock had shown up halfway through practice—Colt had known they wouldn’t be able to stay away from the first practice—and had taken Max home with them.

He stuffed his phone into his pocket. “Just finishing up.”

“We’re heading over to The Creed to get a celebratory first-practice beer,” Logan told Chloe. “You wanna come with us?”

“Oh, gosh, no.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to intrude.” Her gaze traveled around the ice arena. “I can grab a ride home with one of the other parents. Maddie’s mom might still be here.”

Colt narrowed his eyes at Logan. Idiot. He’d wanted to be the one to ask her—to ease her into the idea. “I’m still planning to take you home,” he said, leaning forward to unlace his skates. “I’ll meet up with Logan after I drop you off.” Unless he could still convince her to come with them. He’d give it another try when they were in the truck.

* * *

Chloe walked between the two men, their hockey bags slung over their shoulders as she, Colt, and Logan left the ice arena.

She studied them as they talked strategy for the next practice and who they thought should play what position. Quinn’s brother was almost as tall as Colt and had the same lean, muscular body. He wore cowboy boots and jeans like Colt, but instead of a cowboy hat, he had on a blue baseball cap advertising a local feed store. His hair was darker than Colt’s, more of a chestnut brown, but she remembered this summer it had been a bit blonder, probably from the sun and spending so much time outside.

The two old friends talked and joked easily with each other, and she smiled up at them as her stomach swirled and spun. How had this become her life? Logan and Colt were both ruggedly handsome, and here she was, a petite, quiet schoolteacher hanging out with them as if she were in on their jokes. And if that weren’t crazy enough, her world had somehow tilted on its axis so she was going to partner with these two ridiculously hot guys to coach a bleeping hockey team.

“You sure we can’t convince you to come have a beer with us?” Logan asked, holding the door for her.

She knew he was just being nice. Why would they want to have a beer with her? Surely, having a third-grade schoolteacher hanging out with them would cramp the style of two single guys at a bar on a Friday night.

Besides the fact she didn’t even like beer, she’d already made the humiliating mistake of drinking around Colt the night before. She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. “I’m good. You two go on and have a good time.”

Logan shrugged. “Maybe next time.” He nodded at Colt, who was tossing his skate bag into the back of his pickup. “See you in fifteen.”

The ride home went quickly as they talked about the kids and how the practice had gone. “I was proud of Maddie,” Colt told her as they pulled up in front of Chloe’s house. “She really held her own tonight. I thought the fact that she had no idea how to skate would hinder her, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. From what I saw tonight, she’ll be skating better than some of the boys soon.” He grinned at her. “She’s gonna make a great quarterback.”

Chloe laughed and playfully shoved his arm. “I knew that quarterback thing was wrong. I was just nervous, and I was trying to write down all the kids’ names and preferences. I knew it was wrong as soon as I wrote it.” But she would be studying the rules and positions more this weekend so she didn’t make a rookie mistake like that one again.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you did.”

Another car came flying down the street and screeched to a halt in front of her neighbor’s house. The back door opened, and a teenage boy fell or was shoved out. Then the car took off, its tires squealing on the street.

“That’s Jesse,” Chloe said, her heart pounding as she scrambled from the truck. She heard the other truck door slam but was already hurrying toward the teenager.

Jesse stumbled across his front lawn and fell onto the grass. She heard him groan, but couldn’t tell if he was drunk or if he’d been beaten up. He curled into a fetal position and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“You okay, son?” Colt’s legs were longer than hers, and it had taken fewer strides for him to reach the boy and kneel down next to him. He put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder, but the teenager jerked back.

“Who are you? Get away from me.” His words were slurred, and his eyes widened as he scrambled back.

“Jesse, it’s me. Chloe. Miss Bishop. From next door. This is my friend Colt. We’re trying to help.” She kept her voice low, her tone soothing. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he slurred, rolling over and crawling toward his porch steps.

“Let us help you inside, at least.” She reached under one of his arms and Colt reached under the other, and they hauled the teen to his feet and helped him up the steps. He smelled like stale beer and weed, and his hair stunk like smoke. “Hello, Tina,” Chloe called as they pushed through the front door.

“Miss Bishop,” Maddie said, running from the kitchen. “What are you doing here…” Her joyful smile fell, and she turned back when she saw her brother. “Mama, you better come in here. They’ve got Jesse.”

“Jesse?” Tina came through the door, drying her hands on a dish towel. She hurried forward and threw her arms around the boy’s neck. “Where have you been? Are you hurt? Oh dang—you smell like a brewery. Are you drunk?”

He pulled free of Chloe and Colt and shrugged off his mom’s arms. “Just leave me alone.” He staggered to the sofa and fell into it, his face planted into the cushion and his arm hanging limp off the side.

Tina rolled her eyes. “I will not leave you alone. I’m your mother. It’s kind of in my job description to take care of you.”

“Can I do anything to help?” Colt asked Tina. “Want me to take him to his room?”

She shook her head. “No. He’ll be fine. I’m just glad he’s home. Thanks though. And thanks for everything you’re doing with Maddie on the hockey team.”

“No problem.” He looked at Chloe, then leaned his head toward the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

She nodded absently, her concentration focused on Tina as she rested a hand on the other woman’s arm. “I’m going to stay here for a bit and try to help Tina. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay. I’ll see ya later then.” He turned and slipped out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

“How about if I help get the other kids to bed while you talk to Jesse?”

Tina’s shoulders slumped, and it seemed as if her whole body shrank into itself. She let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand across her forehead. “That would be great. Thank you.”

Chloe walked toward the kitchen and realized she’d left her bag in Colt’s truck just as she heard him pull away from the curb. Oh well, she’d get it at the next practice. She’d checked the Hockey for Dummies book out from the school library and had been looking forward to studying it, but she was sure she could find plenty of hockey information on the internet until she got the book back.

Jake and Madison were standing inside the kitchen door, but Charlie was elbows deep in a sink full of soapy water. He turned as she came in. “Mom let us have ice cream after Maddie’s practice. I was just cleaning up the mess so she wouldn’t have to worry about it. Sounds like she’s got enough on her plate dealing with Jess.”

“That was thoughtful of you,” Chloe told him, wondering if he usually did the task or if Colt’s influence had rubbed off on him a little. “I was going to read a book to Maddie, if you and Jake want to come in when you’re done.”

Charlie shrugged and pulled the plug from the sink. The water made a gurgling sound as it drained. “Maybe.” He turned toward the window as another car roared up in front of the house.

Chloe could see the shape of the car around Charlie’s head. It was a late-model muscle car with a spoiler and obviously no muffler. The passenger door opened, and a man got out and stood at the curb studying the house. The car drove off with a squeal of tires.

Geez. What is it tonight with people being dropped unceremoniously at the curb of this house? Before she had a chance to ask, Charlie turned back to her, his knuckles white as he gripped the kitchen counter, his face pale as the color drained from it. “It’s my dad,” he whispered.

Maddie let out a whimper and clung to Chloe’s leg as Jake raced past her into the living room.

“Mom,” he cried, his voice filled with terror. “It’s Dad! Dad’s here!”

Chloe picked up Madison and followed Jake. Tina’s eyes were wide as her head whipped toward her. “Get the kids out of here.” She shook Jesse’s shoulder so hard, he almost fell off the sofa. “Jesse, get up. Your dad’s here. You’ve got to run.”