The line goes dead as he hangs up on me, and I realize my hands are sweating.
Chapter 7
Marek
"This may be the dumbest idea you've ever had," I tell Holt as I look at the three sledgehammers lying on his kitchen counter. They're flanked by crowbars.
"It's a great idea," Holt insists. "I mean, what could be more fun that helping me destroy my kitchen?"
"Spending time with Josie," Reed mutters as he picks up a sledgehammer to test the weight in his hands.
Of course he'd say that. He's all in love for the first time in his life and has stars in his eyes.
What a fool.
I pick up a sledgehammer myself, get a good two-handed grip, and tap it lightly against the side of one of his cupboards. "So you just want us to knock the shit out of these things, huh?"
"Pretty much," he says with a grin. "We'll work out our aggressions. We've been far too sedentary this summer."
This isn't true. We've all hit the gym diligently during the off-season, but he's just trying to get us riled up so we'll start swinging.
Holt Craig came to the Cold Fury last February just before the trade deadline. He's an incredibly talented center who has been waylaid by injuries the last several seasons. He played most recently for the Dallas Mustangs, but after coming back from his injuries, he lost his first-line position. He was ripe for a trade deal, and Gray Brannon has proved time and again she knows how to pick diamonds in the rough. I can't wait to see what this guy does for the team.
On a personal note, I was happy to see Holt come to the Cold Fury, as we played in college together at Boston College. He left school for the pros after our freshman year, while I stayed all four years to get my degree. We had a good working relationship and an even better friendship we've maintained long distance over the years.
Holt bought an old farmhouse as soon as he moved here and wants to renovate the entire thing. The kitchen is his first project. I'd told him he was stupid to sink money into this place when he could easily be traded to another team next year. He just shrugged and said, "What else do I have all this money for if not to spend it? Besides, it will be like an investment."
I have to admit, there's some appeal to beating the shit out of these kitchen cabinets.
I woke up this morning with a raging headache and total regrets over the amount of booze I'd consumed. I'm hazy on the details, but I know I wanted to kiss Gracen last night, and that was about as stupid as it comes.
I was mortified at myself this morning for my lack of self-control where she's concerned, so when Holt texted me to come over for some demolition fun, it was an easy escape for me. I heard Gracen and Lilly moving around upstairs, so I just threw some clothes on, left a quick note on the fridge that I'd be gone during the day, and hightailed it out of there.
Not the bravest thing in the world, but I'm so twisted up in my feelings that I need some time to process.
"You seriously couldn't hire people to do this?" Reed asks Holt as he rests the hammer portion of the tool on the tile floor and leans his weight against the handle. I'd invited Reed to come along today, figuring I could put some time in mending our relationship. He wasn't overly thrilled, but he also wasn't going to say no to helping a new teammate out.
"My interior designer had hired a company to do this, but they had a scheduling conflict," Holt says as he grabs the last sledgehammer off the counter. "I've got new flooring to be installed in two days, so everything needs to be out of here by then. Besides, again...fun. We get to demolish shit."
"All right," I say, shoring up my grip on the handle. "Let's fucking do this."
"Let's do it," Holt says with an evil sort of laugh. He steps over to a set of cabinets on a short wall that sits between his pantry and double oven. It has floating cabinets above a built-in desk.
Just as he starts to swing, a female voice calls out from the front door. "Helloooo. Holt...are you home?"
Holt tries to halt his swing, bobbles the sledgehammer, and it tumbles out of his hands. The heavy iron end falls onto his foot and he yells, "Fuck."
Reed and I both snicker, but then straighten up tall when an amazingly beautiful woman walks into the kitchen. Her eyes go straight to Holt, who is muttering curses and limping around in circles.
"I told you to let me hire someone to do this," the woman says in a throaty purr of a voice. Reed and I stand up a little straighter.
She's tall, at least five ten and with curves in all the right places. Fashionably dressed in a white wraparound dress that hugs her--also in all the right places--with a pair of black heels that have to be at least four inches high. Her hair is a brilliant shade of red and her eyes are pale green.
Witchy eyes.
Holt shoots the woman an exasperated look and then throws his thumb at her. "That's Ellerie."
"Nice to meet you," I say as I lean forward and extend a hand to her. She shakes it and her grip oozes confidence and poise.
The smile I get back is warm and genuine. "Back at you, Marek Fabritis."
"A hockey fan, huh?"
She releases my hand and nods while reaching across to Reed to shake his. "Big fan. Huge. And good to meet you too, Reed Olson."
"Likewise," he returns to her with an amused expression.
Holt sits the sledgehammer on the ground, leaning it up against the desk. He turns to Ellerie and asks, "What are you doing here today? Didn't think you'd be by."
"I've got a few more fabric samples to look at for the sunroom," she says with a breezy wave of her hand. "I'm on my way to another client's house not far from here and thought I'd just stop by."
While I know demolishing shit is preferable to studying at fabric samples, Holt levels Ellerie with a huge smile. And why wouldn't he? She's a knockout. "Let's have a look at them then."
Reed and I glance at each other with matching smirks because look
ing at fabric samples is about as anti-Holt as you can get.
"The cases are in my car." Ellerie turns away from him to head into the living room and back out the front door, showing me that she's very, very comfortable in his home. Holt follows like a love-struck zombie.
Very fucking interesting.
"I wonder if he's banging her," Reed says in a low voice.
Shaking my head, I put my sledgehammer back into a two-handed grip. "No way. He looks like an adoring puppy right now. Carnal knowledge has not been acquired."
Reed chuckles. "I suppose you're right."
"I am," I say knowledgeably. "Now let's get started. I'm dying to smash stuff."
"There's a job opening at the hospital," Reed says in an abrupt change of. "Josie is going to call Gracen today about it."
I lower the sledgehammer back down to the ground, resting the heavy steel head on the tile floor. "What's the job?"
"It's not neonatal, but it is in labor and delivery," Reed says with a shrug. "Josie figured she'd be interested to get her foot in the door."
Huh. While I've been satisfied with Gracen living in my home and me covering expenses, there is an upside to her getting a job. It means she'll be more permanently affixed to this area. The downside is she won't be dependent on me, and the thought of her leaving the house is unsettling.
Not because I necessarily want her around.
Liar.
But because that would give me more time with Lilly.
And while I may have no fucking clue what I want with Gracen, I know for sure I want something with Lilly. I'm still completely out of my element with her, but the more time I spend around her, the easier it gets.
This morning, she came downstairs before Gracen did, and it was clear she had dressed herself. Her shirt was on backward, and while I'm no expert, I'm pretty sure lime green pants with little pink hearts don't go with a navy blue striped T-shirt.
I pointed out that her shirt was on backward and she actually gave a little frustrated growl. It took me aback for a moment because I thought, Why is this little girl having to dress herself, which is clearly causing her frustration?
Maybe they were daddy genes rearing their head, but I felt affronted and protective of Lilly all at once. Nothing unusual at all that the first person I got mad at was Gracen, because she was clearly upstairs still and couldn't be bothered to help her daughter out.