AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She easily forgave him, and now, here we are.
“Have you met Cannon West?” Brienne asks, turning slightly to the man beside her.
I don’t know much about hockey, but Coen has been teaching me. I know Cannon is the new Titans’ head coach, and he’s shockingly young for what I envisioned a coach should look like. I happen to know he’s only thirty-six and went from playing in the league to coaching after his wife died of cancer.
“We’ve not met,” Coen says as he shakes Cannon’s hand. When he releases, he pulls me in close. “Let me introduce you both to my girlfriend, Tillie.”
It never gets old hearing him call me that, and in fact, it sends a thrill through me.
“Tillie,” Brienne croons as she takes my hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you. Welcome to the team.”
I hadn’t realized Coen had told her about me, but the thudding in my heart turns into a warm pulse. “I’m really happy to meet you as well.”
We talk a few more minutes with Brienne and Cannon. It’s disconcerting how gorgeous the man is with his dark hair and hazel eyes, and I wonder if he has something going on with Brienne.
Not that they gave any indication of such, and it’s probably nothing more than an owner talking to her coach, but I guess the romantic in me wants to see love everywhere.
Next, we find drinks and decide to hit the food later. Me with a white wine in hand and Coen with a beer, we walk around the house, moving from group to group. Coen admitted to me a few days ago he was nervous how receptive the team would be. He’s told me pretty much everything about the last few months he played with the Titans, and the numerous ways he offended his teammates. It relieves me that everyone is open and accepting of his return, if not downright happy about it. He’s the best player on the team, and they really need him.
“There he is,” a booming voice sounds from behind us, and I turn to see a man walking our way with two small plates in hand.
Coen grins and leans toward me. “That’s Gage.”
My memory cycles through the stories Coen’s shared over the summer, and I know this man is one of the main influences on Coen returning. Gage is a veteran player who is moving to the coaching staff this year.
“You must be Tillie,” he says when he reaches us.
“That I am,” I reply.
He holds up the plates. “I’d hug you for turning this asshole into a puppy dog, but my hands are full.”
Coen snorts, and if that’s not a true testament that he’s back to his old self, I don’t know what is.
“Come on,” Gage says with a toss of his head. “We’re in the game room.”
We follow Gage downstairs into a massive open area set up to fulfill any gaming or entertainment wishes. Big screen TVs, three pool tables, a foosball table, cork and electronic dart boards, a Skee-Ball machine, a shuffleboard deck, and a row of slot machines. A sprawling circular bar sits in the middle with a freestanding island inside, which contains a stone water feature with water falling down its slab face. Mesh shelves extend outward, stacked with top-shelf liquors. Behind the bar, two tuxedoed bartenders serve guests.
“In all my life, I don’t know that I’ll ever see anything as grand as this again,” I murmur to Coen.
He bends toward me as we continue following Gage. “You know I can build us a house like this.”
I come a screeching halt, my jaw hanging open. “You could?”
“I mean… yeah. If that’s what you want.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, that’s not what I want. I’m just stunned you could afford to.”
Coen frowns. “What kind of money do you think I make?”
“I have no clue what hockey players earn.”
“You didn’t google that?” he teases.
“No, but I’m thinking I should now,” I grumble that he’s making fun of my ignorance and taking pleasure that I’m shocked.
He takes my hand and we’re off again, heading toward open French doors that lead outside. “I’ll fill you in on my bank balance later, but suffice it to say, I’m pretty fucking rich.”
“Well,” I drawl snobbishly, “if I didn’t love you before, I certainly do now.”
