Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

“Is that Tate?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah. I can’t decide if a few of the menu items are too frou-frou for this group or not. I was hoping I could get him to weigh in.”

“How does he feel about you leaving?”

Olivia looked at her sister. Quinn continued to fill shelves with plates, bowls, cups, saucers…

“Uh…that’s sort of complicated.”

“Why?”

She took a breath to quell the nerves that came up whenever she thought of the quasi-commitment she’d made him. “Because we’re going to keep seeing each other. Or, at least, try… I guess.” She pushed her phone into her pocket and started on another bag of groceries. “We haven’t gotten into the details of how that’s going to work, yet.”

“Really?”

The sheer shock in Quinn’s voice brought Olivia’s head up.

“I just mean,” Quinn said, “He’s so transparently one of those forever kind of guys.”

Written between the lines, Olivia read, and you’re not a forever kind of girl.

“How would anyone know if they’re the forever kind unless they found the right person?” she asked. “Because by all accounts, you should be married with a couple of kids or a kickass career by now. But you’re no further along in life than I am.”

Irritation flashed across her face. “Because I’m busy. Busy trying to keep this damn company from going under and taking mom with it. And this isn’t about me. I’m not contemplating a relationship with someone on another continent.”

Quinn seemed both irritated and genuinely concerned. But Olivia couldn’t tell where this was coming from or why.

“I could see you two having a fling,” Quinn said, “because that’s just how you live and he’s getting over a divorce, but taking it further? Are you sure that’s not just an easier way for both of you to say goodbye?”

Olivia opened her mouth to say she didn’t have a hard time with goodbyes, but that wasn’t true with Tate. And Tate was, admittedly, actively holding on.

“His life has really been stalled by the divorce,” Quinn said. “He’s thirty or thirty-one, he wants kids and his career is here. It’s not like he’s got a job he can take anywhere. And he makes millions of dollars a year. Holding his position, getting future contracts, making that kind of money, it all hinges on focus. If he’s all into you and you’re on another continent, how well do you think he’ll be focusing?”

Olivia really didn’t like all the points Quinn was making. Each one she couldn’t battle made her heart drop a little lower. “You’re awfully knowledgeable about in the inner workings of hockey and Tate all of a sudden.”

“All I did at the party was overhear people talking and get chatted up by hockey players. You can learn a lot in a few hours if you’re talking about the right things and listening to the answer with an open mind.”

Olivia read between those lines too, and didn’t like the insinuation that all she and Tate had been doing was fucking. Which, in part, was true. Another hit to her confidence where Tate was concerned.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Quinn continued, “but I don’t see you settling down anytime soon, and I’m having a hard time imagining you coming home.” She shrugged and started back on the dishes. “I can see how it would be fun for you to have him coming to Paris to visit, but, personally, I don’t think that’s worth the consequences of the possible fallout for Tate when you decide to move on.”

Olivia didn’t respond immediately. She was turning over the very real facts Quinn had just thrown at her. Like a rock against a window, all her ideas of continuing a relationship with Tate shattered into a million little cracks held together by a fragile invisible web.

“I wish you ladies would include me in these conversations.”

Tate’s voice startled Olivia, and she swiveled toward the door. He wandered in and leaned a shoulder against a bank of cabinets, and he didn’t look happy. He also had a bad cut on the side of his chin that was developing a bruising halo.

“I appreciate your concern, Quinn,” he said, “but this is something Olivia and I need to decide on ourselves.” He looked at Olivia. “We may not have known each other long, but I think we know enough about the important things to make this decision.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said, embarrassed. “Of course, you’re right.” She picked up an empty box. “I’m going to take this to the trash and head out to find lunch.”

Olivia opened her mouth to say something to alleviate Quinn’s unease, but as she turned to walk out the opposite direction, Tate held up a hand.

When Quinn was gone, Olivia moved toward him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. What happened to your…” She trailed off when she saw the cut had looked so bad from further away because it was stitched closed with black thread. “Oh my God. You got stitches?”

She didn’t wait for an answer be

fore she turned and opened the freezer, searching for something to put on it. “Is that where you’ve been? The emergency room?”