Penalty Play - Lynda Aicher Page 0,11

was enough right now. Plus her number. She tugged her pack around to dig her phone out of the front pocket. He rattled off his number when she asked.

“What’s your last name, Henrik?”

“Grenick.” He spelled it for her out of habit.

His phone pinged and his grin spread at her text message. Jacqui Polson. I’ll see you at one Thursday.

Excellent. He turned off his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. His heart was definitely lighter, and the week ahead didn’t seem quite so long now that he had something to look forward to.

She gave him a smile and ducked around him. “I have to get to work.”

“Okay.” He let her go, watching her until she reached the store entrance. “I’ll be in touch,” he called out when she looked back.

“Good night, Henrik.”

“Good night, Jacqui.”

Her shoulders shook with her silent laugh and her grin was wide when she stepped into the building. He stared at the doorway for a long moment, his own grin straining his face. He had a date. With Jacqui.

Now he just had to get through the week and make sure she didn’t bail on him.

Chapter Four

The evening news broadcast drifted into the kitchen from the family room where Jacqui’s parents watched TV, their evening routine set since the kids had become old enough to do the dishes. Jacqui shoved her sleeves up and started filling the sink with warm water.

“I said I was going to wash,” her brother grumbled.

“You snooze, you lose,” she dished back.

Aiden nudged her shoulder when he passed to grab the dishtowel out of the cupboard. “You know I hate drying.”

“Tough.” She hated drying too. It was an old argument dating back to their childhood. It’d been known to get heated back then, but was now a friendly bickering that warmed instead of angered her.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“Good.” She shot him a smile and grabbed a pan to plunge into the water. “You?”

He shrugged. “The same.” Aiden was two years older and the closest to her in age.

“Nothing new going on?”

“Nope.” He took the clean pan from her hand and started drying. “Work’s kept me busy.” She caught the tone of his voice and stayed quiet. He had something more. “I’m looking for a new place to live though.”

She kept her smile to herself. Her mother would be proud since she’d learned that handy trick from her. That woman had pulled more truth out of her five kids by staying silent than forcing them to talk.

“Yeah?” she asked. “How come?”

Another shrug along with a frown. She set the pan in the water and turned to him. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it. Aiden had been both her best friend and nemesis growing up. Their bond had strengthened after he’d donated his bone marrow to her, him being the only one in their family who’d been a match. He was more important than whoever was on the phone.

He busied himself over-drying the pan before he finally set it on the counter. His shoulder-length hair fell forward to block his face before he tucked it back, his earrings flashing in the light. Always the rebel of the clan, he’d stretched that status to include piercings and tattoos after she’d survived her second battle with leukemia.

“What’s going on?” She tipped her head to get a better look at him but couldn’t see much.

He grabbed the pan and crouched to put it away beneath the counter. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“Right.” She snorted her disbelief and returned to washing. “And I’m Cinderella. Why are you moving? Sheila kicking you out?”

He’d been living with his current girlfriend for the last six months. Before that it’d been a buddy and prior to that, another girlfriend. Aiden was the king of couch surfing, something that annoyed most of her family. Another sign of his irresponsible nature, according to their oldest brother.

“Nah.” He flashed his patented arrogant grin to add charm to his bad-boy look as he stood. That smile had gotten him out of more than one bad situation. Even their mother had been known to succumb to the power of it. “It’s just time to move on.”

She shot him a disbelieving look and handed him another dish.

“What?” He rolled a shoulder and focused too hard on his task.

“Is she getting too clingy for you?” Jacqui had predicted this when Sheila had been over for Sunday dinner three weeks ago. There’d been one too many hints about rings and summer

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