Authors: Kerrie Dubrock
Sticks and Stones (26 page)
Grace poured a
cup of coffee and sat next to him. “I guess you’re not going to play tomorrow
night, huh?”
“Oh, I’m
playing. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Um, hello?
Your leg is bruised. Can you even walk on it?”
He stood and
hobbled in a circle. “Yep.”
“You’re crazy!”
she muttered.
He sat down and
took her hand. “I have something to ask you.”
“Okay…”
Rick shifted on
the stool. “Were you really checking out that guy’s aura last night or was it
more than that?”
She snorted and
shook her head. “He had a blue aura, okay? I wasn’t checking him out.”
“Why are you so
defensive?”
Grace sucked in
an outraged breath. “Because last night, despite your injury, was one of the
best nights of my life! I got to meet my favorite author and exchange phone
numbers with her. Because
you
thought enough about me to put all that
together. I’m not being defensive, but you’re being irrational!”
She stormed
into the bedroom in a guilty huff.
Grace scribbled
mindlessly on the sketchpad in front of her. She couldn’t concentrate, her
thoughts turned to the argument she had with Rick earlier. Not to mention the
whopper of a dream she had last night about the random Irish guy she’d dreamt
about for years. Except, this one was naughty.
She whimpered
and placed a call. “Aunt Tilda, the vision you saw in your crystal ball…are you
sure it was Rick?”
* * *
After practice,
Rick drove to Chase’s office. Darcy smiled warmly and waved him in.
“Hey, babe,
Rick just walked in.” He paused for a moment and said, “I will. I’ll call you
later.” He quickly hung up and eyed his friend warily. “Em says hi and hopes
you’re feeling better. But, by the way your mug looks, I’m thinking not.”
“Grace is
pissed at me,” Rick muttered glumly.
“A little
pissed or a lot pissed? There’s a difference, you know.”
“Well, she
stopped talking to me and when I acted like my leg was hurting when she was
leaving, she didn’t even turn back to check on me.”
“So a lot
then.” Chase rubbed his jaw. “What’s she mad about?”
Rick lifted his
eyes. “I kind of accused her of being interested in that dick Flynn.”
Chase shook his
head and pulled out his cell phone. He pressed a few buttons and sent the
pictures he took the night before to Rick’s e-mail. “Check those pictures out.
Then go see her and beg for forgiveness.”
Rick frowned,
unsure.
“Okay, it was
obvious the guy was interested in her. After the second period ended everyone
except Grace and Flynn met in the suite. I went looking for them and found
them…together.” Ricks fists clenched and Chase held up a hand. “Flynn had a
hold of her upper arms and said something to her. She looked disgusted with him
and pulled away.”
Moving to the
edge of the chair Rick said tightly, “Did she tell you what he said?”
“No and I
didn’t ask. He probably hit on her and she told him off.” Chase paused and
continued, “For what it’s worth, she stayed away from him the rest of the
evening.”
* * *
“I’m certain it
was Rick in the crystal ball, Poppet. Why?”
Grace groaned.
“Flynn is a brick shithouse! He’s handsome as hell and dear Goddess! He speaks
with a brogue!” She placed her palm over her eyes. “Oh Aunt Tilda! Last night I
dreamt that I was with my Irish man!”
“Well, Poppet,
you were with two last night.”
“No, I mean in
the biblical sense…and I think it was Flynn!” Grace whispered.
“Dear Goddess!”
Tilda exclaimed. “Your dreams always come true!”
* * *
Rick sat in his
car and scrolled through the photos on his cell phone. Chase must’ve called
Emily because he quickly received an e-mail from her with additional photos.
Most of the
pictures were candid and Grace clearly had no idea they were being taken.
Except for one where she was mugging with Tilda.
Several photos
showed Flynn, off in the distance, his eyes glued on Grace.
* * *
Grace
straightened in her chair and smiled at the woman sitting on the other side of
her desk.
“I just loved
the photo spread in Chicago magazine! You really captured the essence of the
Victorian times!” Anita Jones gushed.
Grace smiled,
“Thank you. So I assume you’d like to have your home designed in a similar
fashion?”
Anita nodded eagerly. “When
can you start?”
* * *
“Someone got
flowers!” Zee sang.
Grace lifted
her head from the desk, wearily.
“What’s wrong?”
Zee frowned.
“I’m
hung-over.”
Zee shook her
head and placed the paper wrapped bouquet on the desk. “Bullshit.”
Grace removed
the small envelope from the green and white paper and muttered, “It’s a long
story.”
“I’ve got
time,” Zee said seriously, taking a seat.
The little card
depicted a man crawling out of a dog house with a frown. Rick scrawled the
words, “I love you.”
She slowly tore
the paper away exposing a mixed color bouquet of roses.
“Oh-oh, what did he do?”
Zee whistled.
* * *
Tilda wrung her
hands and sat in front of the crystal ball with closed eyes. What if she
was
wrong before?
Reginald placed
a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Matilda, whatever you see in that ball will
be the right thing for Grace.”
She nodded and
slowly opened her eyes. Peering into the ball, she gasped.
* * *
Zee nodded and
grunted as Grace explained her previous evening.
“So, I walked
out on him,” she finally said with a sigh.
“Yeah and it
hurt like hell when ya did,” Rick muttered from the doorway.
Zee shot a
bewildered glance at Grace and muttered, “I think that’s my phone ringing.”
Rick moved
towards Grace cautiously. “What can I say Gracie? I’m a jealous prick.”
Grace wanted to
stay mad at him, because she was mad at herself. Instead, a panicky giggle
escaped from her lips at his pouty demeanor.
He sat on the
edge of her desk, and ran the back of his hand down her cheek. “It’s been so
long since I’ve had a girlfriend that I forgot how jealous I can be. It’s not a
trait I’m proud of.”
“Um, can we
talk about this later?” she hedged, gathering her purse from a desk drawer.
Rick’s eyebrows
furrowed together. “Ya still mad?”
She stood and
kissed him gently on the lips. “No, but I have an appointment that I need to get
to.”
“Another new
client? That’s awesome, babe!
She shook her
head. “Every year I donate to a non-profit that raises money for the needy.
They distribute food, gifts and clothing at Christmas time.”
He looked at
her, puzzled. “So, do you raise money for them?”
“Essentially.
Becky, the fund development coordinator, has been very successful auctioning
services. Last year I raised $5,000 to design a bathroom.”
“That’s
incredible!”
“Yeah. So, I
have to meet with Becky today to discuss…things.”
Rick cocked his
head. “Why do I feel like you’re leaving something out?”
Grace wrung her
hands and shrugged. “I didn’t know when I agreed to participate this year that
it was going to be a bachelor-bachelorette auction.”
Rick’s jaw
clenched. “When is it?”
“The twentieth
of November.”
“I’ll be sure to be the
highest bidder then,” he ground out.
* * *
The next night
Grace sat next to Zee in the players’ family section at the arena, each wearing
their mans number on their jerseys.
Zee nudged her
with an elbow. “Rick’s skating towards us.”
Grace lifted
her head from the program booklet and shot him a wink. He tapped his stick
against the window and skated towards the bench.
A young blonde
woman sat next to Grace and focused her camera on the ice.
Grace glanced
at her and blinked. “You’re Taylor, aren’t you?”
Taylor nodded.
“And you’re Grace.”
Unsure what to
say, Grace only nodded.
After several
uncomfortable minutes Taylor laughed. “There’s going to be a fight tonight.”
Grace arched
her eyebrows. “Huh?”
“Between my two
old boyfriends.” Grace shrugged, unsure what Taylor meant. “O’Shea and Gavlik,”
Taylor replied with a grin.
Taylor sashayed
down to the front row with a smug look on her face.
Shaking her
head, Grace continued to peruse the program booklet, pondering Taylor’s words.
Then it hit
her.
She quickly
punched information into her phones search engine and it yielded twenty
results.
Nicholas Gavlik
and Rick had never been friends in college; in fact, sources said they disliked
each other immensely. That dislike turned into hatred when Gavlik began dating
Taylor.
* * *
In the middle
of the first period, Gavlik did everything he could to irritate Rick. Checked
him into the boards several times and hit the back of his left leg with the
stick.
Rick wasn’t
playing into his hand.
In fact, he
grinned at Gavlik when they skated by each other.
That small act alone
incensed Gavlik.
* * *
In the locker
room after the first period, Seth Brice cautiously sat next to Rick. They
hadn’t talked since they had words about Rick keeping his head in the game
since he met Grace.
“What’s up,
Ricochet?” Brice mumbled.
Rick pulled his
sweater over his head and passed an annoyed glance at the captain. “You tell
me.”
“Bro, I’m sorry
about what I said to you.” Brice picked at his skate laces. “Feels funny not
talkin’ with you.”
Rick sniggered.
“Yeah, it does.” He wiped the back of his head with a towel and sighed. “What
the fuck’s wrong with us? Why can’t we score against these assholes?”
Brice shrugged,
“More importantly, why are you allowing Gavlik to treat you like his bitch?”
* * *
During the
second period Rick thought about Brice’s words and chuckled. Yeah, Gavlik was a
total dickhead, but it wasn’t worth getting sent to the penalty box. Especially
when they were tied one to one.
At a shift
change, Rick skillfully passed the puck to Kanga, who shot it to Brice.
Gavlik sped
after Brice, spraying ice in the process. He jumped from the ice sending Brice,
head first, into the boards.
Dropping the
gloves, Rick skated towards Gavlik. The crowd whooped and hollered causing
Gavlik to turn in time to meet Rick’s fist.
* * *
As Brice’s body
lay crumpled in the corner of the ice, Grace watched Rick and Gavlik spar. Her
attention was diverted when medics rushed to the ice to tend to Brice.
Zee grabbed her
arm and whooped. “That dude’s gettin’ his ass kicked!”
Unable to see
because of the tall people in front of her, Grace moved towards the glass.
Blood sprayed from Gavlik’s nose, leaving red droplets on the ice.
Rick kept
pounding his fist into the guy’s face, but Gavlik wouldn’t give up.
The Jumbotron
showed the fight up close and she wondered what Rick was saying to Gavlik with
each punch that he gave.
* * *
“Still like to
beat up women Gavlik?”
Gavlik laughed,
despite a broken nose and a missing tooth or two. “Taylor said I fucked better
than you.”
“I doubt that,
but you
absolutely
suck at fighting, ya fuckin’ pussy,” Rick jeered.
Regaining his
strength, Gavlik brought his fist back and made contact with Rick’s left eye.
Rick shook him
off, splaying his hand over Gavlik’s face. “I’m done with you Gavlik.”
* * *
Members of the
both teams tapped their sticks against the boards when the fight was over. Rick
skated over to Brice who was somewhat cognizant.
“Brice?” Rick
yelled over the din.
Lifting his
hand, Brice made a fist. Rick gently tapped it before he was hauled away by a
ref and put into the sin bin for a five minute penalty.
* * *
Flynn sat on
his brand new navy brushed canvas couch with his new favorite craft beer,
Arrogant Bastard, and the latest edition of Chicago magazine. Grabbing the
remote to the television, he turned on the Wind game and watched Ricochet beat
the hell out of Gavlik, again, and shook his head in disgust.