One hand gripped her phone, but her attention was trained on him. When she broke into a smile, it was a direct hit to his solar plexus.
Pleasure streaming through him, he focused on the stick, lining it up with the first puck. He was a peacock, displaying his feathers, and he would not let her down. He channeled his thoughts, his energy on the puck, zoning in on the goalie, on finding that opening. Hockey was so much more than speed and agility. It was the ability to anticipate what a player would do before he moved. It was being so in tune with the play that you were a split-second ahead.
Taking in the goalie’s stance, Declan cocked his arm and fired. The man butterflied, but the biscuit sailed right over his shoulder into the net. Fuck, yeah. Charged, he moved on to the next one, and even though this time the goalie was more alert now, the puck still tipped his glove and landed inside the pipes. One after another, each one got through. Declan was so in the zone, he barely heard the kids shouting.
Finished, he turned to Phinny. Jaw hanging open, she stared at him in awe. There was a moment there when the world narrowed to just the two of them. Blood roared in his ears, and he wanted her to come running onto the ice and throw herself into his arms.
But then applause broke out, so thunderous the sound hit the high ceiling and rained down on him.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Jaime said. “I told you, man. He’s a force. He’d have been the best forward hockey’s ever seen. Now, who wants to get out there and learn from Declan Cadell? He’ll give you a quick lesson right now, and then we’ll try to get him to come back while he’s in town.”
The kids heaved off the bench as one, pouring onto the ice. The other coaches quickly diverted them to their clinics while the forwards gathered around him.
“Hey, guys.” But before he began, he got one more look at Phinny to make sure she was doing okay. She fanned herself with a hand and mouthed, “Wow.”
And damn if he didn’t feel like a fucking king.
Chapter Ten
Still high from coaching, Declan headed out of the parking lot. “Sorry about that.” He hadn’t meant to make her late.
“No, don’t worry. I texted Leddy, and she’s totally fine.” Phinny gripped the handhold as he wheeled the car around. “That was amazing. I can’t believe how good you are. And the way you were with those kids? You’re such a good coach.” She pulled her hair into a ponytail and twisted it into a bun. “What did Luc say to you at the end when we were leaving?”
As he waited to pull out onto the street, he caught a glimpse of the pale column of her neck. “He asked if I had time to work with one of their second-string players.” He hit the accelerator before he did something stupid like reach out to see if her skin felt as smooth as it looked.
“Doesn’t the team have coaches that can help him?”
“Sure, but the guy probably wants to kill it during exhibition games, get his shot on the front line. Maybe he wants to surprise the coaches.”
“Exhibition games?”
“Before the season starts, we play around eight games. It gives the coaches a chance to see everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, figure out who’s going to be on the roster.”
“So, you’re saying if a second-string player does better than, say, Luc, a veteran with an amazing record, he gets to play?”
“If Luc’s not hitting the pucks, they’ll absolutely put in someone else.”
“I don’t think I’m built for anything that competitive. I would shrivel under the pressure.”
“You’ve been under a lot of pressure for ten months, and you’re doing great.”
She gifted him with one of her luminous smiles. “You’re right about that.” She let out a contented sigh. “Well, watching you was exciting.”
Yep. Preening like a peacock.
“We don’t have hockey in the UK, so I’ve never seen it before.”
“Even as a kid, you didn’t watch your dad’s games?”
“No, never. We never even talked about them.” She went quiet for a moment, lost in thought. “All this time I’ve blamed Kurt, but now I’m starting to think about my mum’s part in all this. If I were divorced, I feel like I’d encourage my child to know her dad. Wouldn’t I put her on the phone with him? All my mum’s ever done is badmouth him.”
Pretty much what he’d been thinking.
“It’s like she did everything she could to turn me against him. I mean, if it were me, no matter how much I hated my ex, I think I’d push for my child to know him. I’d be like Oh, Daddy’s game is on. Let’s watch.”
“Makes sense. Why do you think she didn’t?”
“I’m going to ask her. I’ve always assumed he did something terribly wrong that she wouldn’t tell me about, like cheating or something, because her reactions have always been so over-the-top.”
No way would he let her entertain thoughts like that. “He didn’t cheat. Kurt was one of the most honorable men I know. It wasn’t in his nature to fuck around.”
“You sound quite sure about that.”
“I am.”
“Honorable. That’s the same word Jaime used to describe you. Sounds like Kurt and your grandfather did a good job with you.”
He grinned. “Sam and Kurt were nothing alike.”
Shifting, she lifted a knee to better face him. “Really? Tell me all about Grandpa Cadell.”
“Sam lived hard. He cursed, he drank, he smoked…” He thought of the cigar dangling out of his mouth as he sat with his buddies for his weekly poker game. The big laugh that came from his gut as the guys argued, told jokes, and shared inappropriate stories.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She clamped her hand on his arm and gave it a shake. “You don’t get lost in memories without sharing them.” She leaned over and cupped his mouth. “Say them out loud.”
“Okay, okay.” Laughing, he gently swatted her hand away. “When Sam walked into a restaurant, people would call out to him. ‘Sammy,’ ‘Sammy, my man.’ They got out of their chairs to slap him on the back and talk to him.” He could see it so clearly, the sparkle in their eyes, the eagerness. “When they shook his hand, they didn’t let go. He was like an energy source, and they needed to get their fill.”
“Was he like the mayor or something?”
“Oh, hell, no. He was too opinionated. He was a real character. You either hated him, or you loved him. There’s a group in town called the Cooters. If you ever go to the diner at eleven in the morning, you’ll see a bunch of seniors taking up tables on the left side. They’ve got a standing brunch date there, and they range from old cowhands to CEOs and everything in between. Well, that group started because of him. Whenever he walked in, people would pull up chairs and hang out with him. It turned into a daily thing.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“The best.” Declan smiled at the memory. “He didn’t hold anything back. If he was pissed, he called you out. He drank hard, worked hard, and played hard.”
“Our families couldn’t be more different. Mine is so proper. They would be mortified to cause a scene of any kind. They have to be invited to the right parties, wear the right clothes. How they behave at home is completely different from how they are in social situations.”