Talk Hockey to Me (Bears Hockey #3) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,55

raises a fist. “Yeah! Beat that, Morrissette.”

Yikes. I hand him the beers and he drinks while I play, coming nowhere near his score. We go back and forth for a while.

“I’m hungry,” Ryan says. “I wonder what we’re having for dinner. Oh hey, let’s grab some popcorn. And more beer.”

We fill a basket from the popcorn machine and he orders more beer. I’m bemused by all this. Kate’s probably wondering where the hell we are.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text message.

“Hunter Morrissette!”

I turn to see two old guys smiling at me. I smile back. “Yeah. Hi.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” They each reach out to shake my hand.

“I’m visiting friends.” I gesture at Ryan who’s gripping a pinball machine in another game.

“You gonna sign with the Storm again?” one man asks.

“I don’t know.” I scrunch up my face ruefully.

“They’d be stupid to let you go,” the other guy says.

“Well thanks. I’d be happy to stay. But I know it’s a business.”

“Fucking money,” the first man snarls. “That’s all those owners are in it for.”

Well, yeah. That’s generally why you run a business. But I get what he’s saying.

“That fight with Younger was great,” Man Two says. “You really cleaned his clock.”

I grin. There’s an expression I haven’t heard for a while.

Ryan beckons me over to play again.

“Excuse me. I have to beat my friend at pinball, or we may never leave here.”

“Isn’t that Ryan Bridges?” Man One asks.

“Yeah.”

There are a few guys gathered to watch Ryan. “Holy shit, you’re good, man,” one says. “That is some stellar flipper work.”

Ryan grins.

Jesus. What have I gotten myself into?

Now Ryan has an audience, there’s no stopping him. I let out a sigh and order another beer.

I do a double take when Joe walks in.

“What the hell are you two doing?” he demands, standing behind Ryan.

“Oh, hey Dad.” Ryan talks over his shoulder. “Just playing some pinball.”

I’m ready for Joe to drag us out of there. Instead, Joe says, “I want in.”

“Go grab a beer.” Ryan doesn’t look up.

I stare as Joe heads to the bar and returns with a cold one.

When we finally make it back to Joe’s place, I’ve been texting with Kate, who ordered pizza and has sent more than one message asking when we’d be there.

We walk into the house, laughing uproariously. “I think my retinas are scarred!” I shout. “All I can see is flashing lights! I’m blinded!”

Joe slaps me on the back. “You’ll be fine.”

Kate sighs. “I cannot believe this.”

“We’re home, honey!” I teeter over to her and sling an arm around her shoulders.

“I see that.”

I don’t even know how long we were gone. It feels like a few days. “Um, is there any pizza left?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes. I’ll heat it up.”

“Nah, don’t bother,” Ryan says. “Cold is fine.” He reaches for one of the boxes on the counter.

“Speak for yourself,” Joe says. “I hate cold pizza.”

“You can heat your own up then.” Ryan lifts a piece out of the box. It slips out of his hand and it lands on the floor.

We all stare.

“Hell,” he mutters, then bends and retrieves it. He eyeballs it, shrugs, and takes a bite.

“Ryan!” Kate closes her eyes.

“I’m hungry,” he mumbles. “We had popcorn though.”

I help myself to a piece from the box too. “It was good popcorn.”

Joe is busy turning on the oven and finding a pan. He inspects the choices.

“Pepperoni and mushroom,” Kate offers. “And a veggie special.”

Joe turns up his nose at the veggie pizza, which I am eating. I shrug.

“I’m glad you all had fun,” Kate says dryly.

Joe turns to her, pointing at me. “He’s a great guy. Don’t fuck things up.”

Kate’s eyes nearly fall out of her head. “Dad!”

I laugh. More likely it’ll be me who fucks things up, but I don’t want to say that because right now her dad likes me. I meet Kate’s eyes and see the amusement twinkling there.

“You sleep in the guest room,” Joe says to me. “I put a cot in there.”

I run my tongue over my teeth, glancing at Kate. She shakes her head, eyes closed, then meets my eyes and shrugs.

“Okay,” I say.

I feel a little less tanked after a few pieces of pizza. Then Joe opens his bottle of scotch. “Come on, Hunter, try this.”

Oh sweet merciful Christ, no. “I…need to get to bed.”

“Hell, no.” Joe waves at me as he grabs glasses and the bottle and heads to the big family room attached to the kitchen. “Come on. Just