“It’s his Christmas Tree. In front of his house. But he’s just showing his face to raise his numbers in the polls. There will be other local celebrities there and a portion of the donations will go directly to the US Hockey Foundation...”
Fuuuuck. Grant dropped his head back. He was all for charity. Sometimes felt like he participated in more charity events than hockey games. But this one day, he really wanted to spend with Faith.
“Nick—“ Grant tried to break in.
“I’ve already got all of you guys the hottest dates on the planet. You can thank me later. You’re escorting Bridgette Ferreira.”
Grant winced. Bridgette was okay, and if he hadn’t met Faith, he’d be happy to return to the sheets with the model-turned-broadcaster, but now…no. The only woman he wanted in his sheets was Faith.
“The event is, of course, tomorrow,” Nick said, “and since you’re in Nowhere, USA, I had to book you a crazy flight schedule to get you out of Twisted Christmas and into DC in time for the event. You’re leaving tonight.”
“Just hold on.” Grant rubbed a hand over his face and started to pace. “Remember why I’m here in the first place? Ted was the one busting my ass about spending too much time with women like Bridgette. Ted was the one who forced me to choose something ‘meaningful’ to do with the rest of my rehabilitation time. So, I’m here, doing that. He can’t just wiggle his nose like a fuckin’ witch and bring me back to DC whenever he wants.”
“Uhhh, yeah. He can. He pays your salary. These events are in your contract. I thought you’d be offering to name your firstborn after me when I gave you the news.”
Grant dropped his head back and glar
ed at the ceiling. Noooooooooooo!
“I’m here for the kids, Nick. I don’t want to bail on them.” It was true, but he was picturing Faith in his mind. “This is charity too. I’m bringing in a lot of money for my high school team. Just tell him I can’t make it and pick someone else.”
“Dude,” Nick said in his what-the-fuck-do-you-mean-no? tone. “What’s wrong with you? It’s Christmas and all the other guys just finished five fucking grueling away games. One of the reasons Ted chose you guys is because all of you either live locally in DC or don’t have kids. And may I stress Ted chose you.”
Which translated to Go if you want another offer when your current contract runs out.
Grant hung his head. “Right, sorry. My parents are making me crazy. And I promised these kids—”
“This isn’t negotiable. This is contractual. And if you’re not on that plane, you’re in breach of that contract. All you’ve got to do is be seen, get that pretty face on the news tomorrow night at the event. Sign some autographs and get a few photos with celebrities at one of the parties you go to while you’re in town. Make Ted happy. Ticket’s in your email.”
12
Faith’s mind kept winding its way back around to “what if” and “maybe” as she tested the last string of lights illuminating the ice-carving stations. She’d already packed up her gear and stored it in one of the storage sheds on-site. In a few days, she’d come do this all over again—in reverse.
By then, Grant would be gone. He’d come and gone from her life in what seemed like a flash, yet he’d left an indelible mark on her—heart and soul. She couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take her to get over him. How long it would take her to move on. Or whether she’d ever find a man like him to love again.
Love…?
She thought about that a few seconds, trying on that new description.
Not only did the feeling fit immediately, the rightness of it wrapped her in warmth and joy.
And those damn maybes and what-ifs filled her mind again.
When Faith flipped the switch and all the bulbs in the last row of lights glowed, she knew she was done. Her first year setting up without her dad. Without anyone.
Now she knew she could do it on her own.
Instead of that knowledge relaxing her or bolstering her, it depressed her. She was tired of doing everything on her own. Her mind drifted toward the puzzle of continuing to see Grant when he returned to DC. She spun the pieces in her mind, tried to make them fit. When they didn’t, she took out those pieces and tried others. Still no good.
Her phone chimed, and she smiled, anticipating a text from him. But when she pulled her cell from her pocket, she found a new email. From Natalie.
“Ugh.” Dread and guilt twined as she tapped it open, wondering what snarky comment Natalie had delivered now.
But no words filled the email. Just photos. Image after image after image of Grant with different women. Faith’s gut tightened automatically, as if fending off a punch.
They all looked like paparazzi pics or event photos. None were provocative, but they all clearly displayed Grant as an attentive, affectionate half of a couple.
With her stomach aching, Faith shored up a framework for her thoughts. She knew Grant was a player. A player was exactly the kind of man she’d been trying out when she’d gone into this fling. He’d never made promises. Never led her to believe anything in his life would change once he left Holly for DC or any other city. He owed her nothing.