Kane (Arizona Vengeance 8)

We enjoyed ribs, potato salad, corn on the cob, and apple pie. I purposely kept my alcohol ingestion to two beers total, not only so I could drive home, but also so I could be alert in case there’s some threat to Mollie out there. Who knows, maybe she did or didn’t see Matthew, but the truth of the matter is that it stands to reason he could decide to come after her. Maybe Samson scared him away for good, or perhaps he’s doubly pissed off and wants to hurt her worse now. Regardless, until he’s captured, I’m going to keep a clear head.

Currently, Mollie has been stolen away from me by a group of women headed up by Clarke. She’s taken it upon herself to introduce Mollie to some of the other wives and girlfriends who have become close not only during the season, but also over the summer with the bevy of weddings that happened.

First, Erik and Blue got married.

Then Dax and Regan had a church wedding since their first one was at the courthouse.

Then came Bishop and Brooke’s destination wedding in St. John, only to be followed by Tacker and Nora’s surprise wedding on the same bluff overlooking the Caribbean waters.

I glance across Coach Perron’s massive backyard, which is set up with tents and tables. Mollie is sitting at one of those tables with the newly married women—Blue, Regan, Nora, and Brooke—along with Legend’s wife, Pepper, and Dominik’s wife, Willow. Clarke is there, too—she recently got involved with Aaron Wylde. It’s the core group of women, and they’re very tight. I’m not surprised they’ve drawn Mollie into their circle. In fact, it makes me ridiculously happy. If she and I are going to make a go of this, being part of this hockey family is important. It will give her a base of friends she can spend time with and hang out with, especially since her own life has been so radically turned upside down.

I’m currently hanging with a group of teammates near a fire pit that’s blazing a little too hot for the end-of-summer Phoenix weather, but it provides an ambient glow. Dax, Tacker, Aaron, Jim, and I are debating whether it’s a requirement to watch chick-flicks to keep a woman happy in a relationship. I don’t have any input, so I’ve been listening carefully. There are many things I know about Mollie—including the types of movies she loves—but I don’t know how she feels about romantic ones. I have never watched one, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t.

The conversation stops mid-stream when our team’s owner, Dominik, joins us. He has a beer in hand, looking uncharacteristically casual in a pair of shorts and a golf shirt. The man is known for his impeccable and expensive designer suits.

“Did I hear one of you ladies mention something about The Runaway Bride?” he asks, clapping Tacker on the shoulder.

It had indeed been Tacker just now waxing poetic about how much he had enjoyed the movie.

We all avert our eyes, mumbling he must be mistaken, but he just laughs. Glancing over at the group of women, his eyes light on his new bride, Willow, and a fond smile overtakes his face. “You do what you have to do to keep them happy. No judgment here.”

Okay, enough about chick flicks. To change the subject, I ask Dominik, “How long are you going to be staying in Phoenix?”

“Willow and I are flying back to L.A. tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll be back for the first pre-season game next week, though.”

Dominik’s main domicile is in California, as he also owns a professional basketball team there. But he also bought a house—okay, a huge fucking mansion—here in Phoenix, so he and Willow split their time between the two.

“How much time do you think you’ll be spending here during the season?” Dax asks. It’s a question he has a vested interest in, since Dominik’s wife is his sister. I’m sure he wants as much time with her as possible. They’re pretty tight, and Willow is just as close to Dax’s wife, Regan.

Something plays over Dominik’s expression as he gazes over at Willow. When he turns his attention back to his brother-in-law, he says, “Actually… your sister and I are flying back to L.A. to meet with the county social services.”

Dax frowns, as do the rest of us. We all know Dominik’s background—raised in foster homes, and that he currently champions one such place—The Miller Home.

“Something wrong?” Dax asks.

Dominik shakes his head. “On the contrary, hopefully something is very right. I doubt your sister will mind me telling you since we planned on announcing it soon, but we’re looking to foster a young boy.”

My jaw drops—because that’s a fucking colossal life-changing event—but Dax merely grins so wide I think he might break his face. He launches himself at Dominik, giving him a huge hug. Slapping him hard on the back, he exclaims, “That’s fucking awesome, bro. I mean, really. And Willow… I know how much she’d love something like that.”