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“How was the morale boosting night?” I asked, trying desperately to shake myself awake.
“Hilarious,” he whispered, a soft chuckle vibrating from his chest. “One of the rookies made a right galoot of himself trying to woo a waitress who was clearly not interested.”
“Galoot?” I murmured, tilting my head.
“Idiot,” he explained, his nose trailing the seam of my neck, eliciting chills across my skin.
“Ah,” I said. “How many ways do you have of saying idiot? I need you to buy me a Scottish dictionary or something.”
He laughed again. “I think you’re still asleep.”
“Am not,” I said, though I half was. “Like that song,” I said, my head sinking heavy against his bicep that he’d slipped under me.
“What song?”
“The one you hummed at the office constantly.”
“Ah,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were paying attention.”
“I was,” I admitted.
“It’s called Caledonia,” he whispered. “I don’t think there’s a Scot alive who doesn’t know it. It’s about a man who's lost his way but is reminded about what truly matters in the world. He thinks about his roots, about what is most important in life.” He gently kissed my neck. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I met you.”
“Why?” I sighed, forcing my eyes to open.
“Because I saw you, heard that smart mouth, and I felt home.”
I swallowed hard, my brow furrowing as I tried to figure out if this was a dream or not. I shifted against him, prepared to roll over and fully wake up, but he held me tight.
“Sleep, Annabelle,” he said, kissing my neck again.
I settled against him, sinking further into myself as I interlocked our hands. “I’m glad you’re home safe,” I said, already slipping back into slumber.
“I’m glad you were here to come home to,” he said.
“Me too,” I whispered before falling back into the deep sort of sleep that only came from the complete and utter relaxation of security.
I didn’t wake Connell the following morning, knowing he had to be wrecked from how late they’d been out last night. But I kissed him softly before leaving for work, my heart lifted from what I hoped had been real and not a dream last night.
The doubts were still there, but his words, his body sheltering mine throughout the night…they helped chase them away. Helped me dare to believe that maybe, just maybe, what we had was real and would withstand the trials his life naturally would throw at us.
11
Connell
There were nights when I was on, and nights when I was on fire. I knocked the puck loose from Tampa’s newest center, and took it down the boards, firing it off to Cannon just past the blue line.
The crowd roared as he flew by their defense and fired it in. The lamp lit, and the noise level in the arena shot to a new decibel.
I pounded Cannon’s back as we filed into the bench for the shift change. It was our first home preseason game, and attendance was already at capacity. The thing about winning the Stanley Cup was that people expected you to do it again. And again.
My gaze went to the family box like it had the whole game. Annabelle sat with Faith, a wide smile on her face as she waved. I gave her a nod and put my attention back on the game. Having her here was damned distracting, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Besides, it was the first game she’d ever seen, so I was sure the novelty would wear off.
Or not. I almost missed a shift change because I had my eye on Annabelle again.
By third period we were up three to one, and Lukas put another one in at the buzzer for the four-one win. Damn, did I love the feel of a win.
We came off the ice and hit the showers. Preseason meant zero press for the majority of us, which included me.
“Good job, Sterling,” I told the rookie goalie as I hauled my bag out of the locker room.
“All five minutes that I played?” He asked with a wry grin.
“Did ye let any in during those five minutes?” I asked, half out the door.
“No,” he answered, rubbing his hand over his hair.
“Good job, Sterling,” I repeated with a grin, then walked out. I’d give the kid some proper hazing over the next few weeks, but not today. Today he deserved the win, just like the rest of us.
Next week gave me ample time to work up a proper prank to welcome him to the team.
I turned down the hallway toward the ice, near the area I’d asked Annabelle to meet me.
“No, seriously, he asked me to wait here.”
Annabelle’s voice echoed down the concrete hall, and I picked up my pace at the sound of her agitation.
“Right, like he asked all of us,” another feminine voice countered.
“Look, honey, I’ve seen his type, and you aren’t it, bless your little heart,” another woman added.
