Tara grinned, that beautiful smile that had guys falling at her feet. “Yeah, I know, he’s one to talk. I am the ultimate complication, more than enough for him to deal with. Really, I just want to be sure that whatever you and Pepper have going on doesn’t affect the team’s close dynamic. By the way, I’m loving this longer hair, but I think you could do with a little trim.” She touched her fingers to the hair over his ear. “Come see me at the compound. First cut’s free! And you can tell me all about you and Pepper.”
Tara was the team’s hair stylist and had apparently assumed some sort of priest-confessor role in the org.
“I met her once”—and we connected, but she’s a liar and a troublemaker and have you heard about what happened with her and Kent Gallagher?—“and we went our separate ways. There’s nothing to see here.”
In truth, he was a little embarrassed about his behavior. After that meet at Jimmy’s Tap, he’d run into her in the Rebels watering hole, The Empty Net, a couple of weeks later, the night Tara was referencing. He’d tried to apologize, but Pepper had run off without letting him get a word in.
So he might have overreacted. He’d been so uptight about his surgery news and possibly signing with the Rebels that he’d let that overshadow the fun flirtation he’d been having with this mystery girl. So she had her reasons for keeping her identity under wraps. He’d had his own, so why had he been such a dick because she was playing the same game?
Maybe he should have been more understanding of her desire to keep her name to herself. Her engagement to Kent Gallagher had gone tits up a few months before he ran into her at that bar, and not long after, Gallagher’s career had taken a nosedive with a bar fight, suspension from his team, and an unceremonious dump into the AHL.
The press hadn’t been nice to him, but they’d been especially nasty to Pepper, like she was to blame for Gallagher fucking up. Made it sound like she was bad news, and the fleeting memory of that had tainted his parting words to her.
Heard you have a thing for pro-hockey players. Well, I’m not another guy whose career you can destroy.
As if he knew a thing about it. The tabloids and the truth were rarely on speaking terms, and it wasn’t as if he could ask her brother Connor, who he happened to know from their college days.
He could, however, pump Tara for information, though it would set the gossip tongues wagging. Luckily he didn’t get a chance to decide because his phone buzzed with a text from his best girl. Or his best girl’s grandma.
Gwen
Someone wants to say hi!
Grandma Gwen had sent a photo of Cecy with a giant teddy bear in Rebels gear. She was hugging it hard, and the joy on her face made him so damn happy that for a second, he forgot about the rest: his worries about his career, his trepidation at having to start over, his regret over a missed opportunity with a hazel-eyed girl and her crooked smile.
He looked up at Tara. “Sorry, I’ve got to answer this.”
“Sure. Talk later—and don’t forget to hit me up for that cut.” She headed out to join the party.
Bast
Looks like she’s forgiven me for switching teams.
Gwen
She’s a Bast Durand fan, honey. We’ll be following you wherever you go.
Good to know he had some support in his defection to the enemy.
Pepper was the ghost at the feast.
If any of the partygoers were to turn around, they’d see her spectral image at the window and wonder if the Kershaws’ Winnetka mansion on the lake was haunted.
Bast was in the yard, chatting with his new teammates, laughing at something Cal Foreman had said. Not unlike that night in March, which was vividly imprinted on her brain: the ease of their conversation, his charm in the face of her dissing his profession, his shallow breaths when they stood a little too close. So she might have been a couple of tequila shots past sense, but she hadn’t imagined the connection, the way her heart rate sped up when he touched her hip to steady her.
And then it all went to shit.
“Hey, Pep, come join the party.”
Pepper turned to Elle Kershaw, who had just breezed in. About a month ago, Elle had asked her if she’d be available as a part-time babysitter for their ten-month-old Hatch, and Pepper had jumped at the chance to be useful. The Kershaws didn’t seem to care that she had a reputation as a career-wrecker; all they appreciated was that she was six credits short of her early childhood education degree and liked hanging with little kids. Simple as that.
But working for a Rebels hockey player meant she risked crossing paths with other Rebels hockey players—which wouldn’t have been a problem except for the news Bast Durand had signed on with the team a few days ago. Her fervent wish was that she never had to run into this guy again.
Because she rarely got what she wished for, here he was ruining her day by being a handsome idiot.
“I kind of like hanging with my guy here. He’s being a little fussy.”
“He is?” Elle bent over his crib and rubbed his tummy. “You being a little diva like your dad?”
Hatch gurgled and snatched at the air, making a tiny fist of fury.
Elle came over to the window where Pepper was standing and looked out. “Not in the mood to hang with a bunch of players and WAGs, I suppose.” Her tone was kind.
“I’m sure they’re all lovely people.”
“But you were sure of that the last time. I could tell you they’re the coolest bunch in the world, but you had a rough go of it in Denver, I’m guessing. Or maybe there’s another reason you don’t want to take the baby monitor downstairs and sample one of Theo’s sliders.” She shook her head. “Sorry, that came out kind of dirty.”
Pepper laughed. “I’ll grab something later.”
That should have been Elle’s cue to leave, but she still hovered. “Actually, I overheard a conversation about you just now and—”
“What are people saying?”
Elle placed a hand on her arm. “Oh, nothing about what happened with Kent Gallagher. Tara was asking Bast Durand about some run-in between you two at the Empty Net a couple of months ago.”
Tara Becker was a one-time wannabe WAG who’d been friendly toward Pepper, though Pepper was suspicious of Tara’s motives. After her experience with Kent, she questioned anyone who wanted to get to know her.
“You mean she was looking to stir things.”
Elle frowned. “I wouldn’t say that. In fact, she was concerned that Bast had offended you in some way, and she wanted to know what had happened.”
Looking out for her or looking out for gossip? So hard to tell.
“Nothing. We met once, but he didn’t know who I was, and when he found out, he wasn’t pleased.”
“Oh, I see.” Elle’s gaze turned sharp.
“It was nothing, really. We barely talked, and when we ran into each other again at the Empty Net, I wasn’t in the mood to hear him out. That’s what Tara saw. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Elle snorted. “Nice of you to defend him, but let’s be clear. You should not be the one hiding away in here, using my kid as cover, all because you want to avoid Bast Durand. Or anyone else for that matter.” She held Pepper’s gaze, her own filled with compassion. “I kind of know what it’s like to want to go dark. Stay under the radar.” At Pepper’s querying look, she added, “My family is pretty toxic.”