Quick Trick (Rough Riders Hockey 1)

“Watch it,” Martin warned, returning to the living room. “We gave you that name.”

“You might have named me, but I earned the reputation behind the name—despite you.”

Martin’s face reddened, and he opened his mouth.

“Just calm down, everyone,” Hazel said. “Let’s take a second to put everything into perspective.”

“I’ve got it all in perfect perspective, and it’s damned ironic,” Grant told her. “After suffering through decades of disappointment over my love of hockey, you now need me—and the fame I’ve earned through the sport you hate—to pull in money for your charity. All so you can look like hot shit to people in this town.”

“You will not talk to your mother like that—”

He swung toward his father. “I’m talking to you too, Dad. You’re no better.”

“Get out.” Martin stabbed his index finger at the door. “Right now.”

“No, he’s right,” his mother countered before Grant could even take a step. “I’m sorry, Grant. You’re right. In my defense, I have always wanted you home to have the family together, but when I heard you weren’t skating over the holiday and could make it, I did leverage your visit for the good of the community. And while your success hasn’t come in the way your father and I had hoped, there is no denying you have reached incredible heights in your career.”

She paused, looking more contrite than Grant had ever seen her, and drew a breath. “Regardless of whether I care for hockey or not, as your mother, I’m proud. So, yes, I want you out there front and center, where everyone can see what a success you’ve made of your life.”

No. She wanted him out there front and center so she could brag about him. So she could take some sort of credit for his success, when the truth was Grant had fought his parents every step of the way to get to this point in his career.

But he knew that look in her eyes. She wholeheartedly believed what she was saying. And there was no point in trying to get her to see that she was still lying to herself. As for Martin, Grant already knew the man would go to his grave disappointed that his middle son had gone rogue and deserted the family business.

Bottom line: Grant would always be considered a loss to his parents, no matter what he achieved.

“Please stay, son,” his mother said. “You’ll be doing great things for the high school team. A lot of boys here look up to you.”

Like she knew anything about the high school team. Neither she or his father had ever been to one of his games. Not one in Grant’s entire life.

“Don’t try to guilt me. We all know neither of you care who looks up to me or what I could do for the team. All you care about is what you care about. It’s always been that way. It will, obviously, always be that way. But you’re right about one thing. There are people here who respect what it took for me to get where I am. And I do want to help those people. So if I stay, I’ll be staying for them.”

“Grant…” His mother exhaled and shook her head. “Let this argument b

low over and see how you feel about things. Your brothers will be here soon, and they’re looking forward to seeing you.”

Perfect. His brothers. The older one was so green with envy over Grant’s career success, he constantly took cuts at Grant’s game like the fucker knew what he was talking about. The younger one was so wild, Grant was shocked he was still alive. Surely the only reason he wasn’t incarcerated was because their father repeatedly bailed him out.

Now Grant wished he’d thought this decision through better. But there had been a sliver of hope that his family had changed over the years. And the fact that they hadn’t, that they might even be worse than they’d once been, both hurt and deflated Grant.

“This was a fuckin’ bad idea,” he muttered, rubbing the tension from his face. Now he felt stuck. He’d promised Dwayne. Dwayne would have promised the kids by now. And one thing Grant hated to do was let kids down. He knew how that felt and avoided it at all costs.

“Stay in the guesthouse if you need your own space,” his mother added.

What fuckin’ choice did he have? He could get a hotel, but the closest one was a several miles out of town and he’d end up driving back and forth all day, every day.

“I’ll think about it.” He bent, picked up the tree, and dragged it toward the front window, where their Christmas tree had reached toward the open-beamed ceilings for as long as he could remember. “And for the last time, stop trying to force Natalie on me. I have a life in DC. A damned good one. I’m not staying here, and no one is going to change my mind about what I do for a living. Sure as hell not a woman.”

He gripped the netting and took out his frustration on the nylon, ripping it open. “Now where do you want this damn thing?”

4

Faith knelt on the floor at the back of the store, surrounded by miles of tangled Christmas lights. Overwhelmed, she looked up at Dwayne. “And why, exactly, did you wait until so close to Christmas to bring this to me?”

“Ah…” He grimaced and scratched his head. “I wasn’t sure whether or not I was going to do it this year. And I thought I’d be able to figure it out on my own. But I’m just realizing why MaryAnn spent weeks on setting this up every year.” He sighed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t ask you… I know how busy you get during the holidays…but…” He lifted his gaze to Faith’s and the pain there resonated with her intimately. “I can’t take the darkness or the silence anymore. The holidays were so lively, so full of fun, when MaryAnn was here…”

His voice broke. He dropped his gaze to the mess on the floor with a sad laugh, but not before Faith saw his eyes glisten with tears.

Her heart broke for him. For herself. For all the Christmases ahead that she and Dwayne would have to spend without the people they loved in their lives.