“Tomorrow we’re having a beach volleyball tournament,” Logan said. “You in, Kyla?”
She caught the amusement in his eye. He was thinking about all the times she’d tried to play with them—volleyball, baseball, golf, you name it—and how hopeless she had been. “Sure,” she said, tossing her hair back. She effing hated volleyball. No matter what she did, she could not coordinate things between her hands and arms and the damn ball. It never went where it was supposed to.
“Maybe you should take it easy tomorrow,” Mom said, giving her an out.
She shrugged and cut another piece of steak. “Maybe.”
She finished her meal, eating everything on her plate. She could’ve eaten more. Must be the fresh lake air giving her an appetite.
“Seconds?” Tag asked, leaning on the deck rail beside her, holding a beer loosely in his long fingers. “Or dessert?”
“There’s dessert?”
He laughed. “My mom brought chocolate chip cookies and a couple of apple pies and ice cream. I think there’s some left.”
“Mmm. Sounds good.” She started to rise and he held out a hand.
“Give me your plate. I’ll go get you dessert. What do you want―pie or a cookie?”
She grinned up at him, handing him her plate. “Both.”
“All right.” He sound approving. He strode into the cottage with easy familiarity. They’d practically lived at each other’s cottages, their parents taking turns hosting dinners and game nights, the boys having sleepovers. She watched his back, broad and muscular in a snug T-shirt, her gaze tracking down to his ass in a pair of beige cargo shorts. He had a great ass, muscular enough to grab onto, but not a big bubble butt.
She shouldn’t be admiring his ass.
He returned a moment later with another plate holding a piece of pie, a scoop of ice cream and three cookies.
“You don’t need to wait on me,” she said pointlessly. He ignored her and handed her the plate. Once she’d taken it from him, he snagged one of the cookies.
“Hey,” she protested.
He smiled. “You’re never going to eat all that.”
“I’m going to try.” She picked up the fork.
She listened to the talk going on around her, a couple of different conversations, content to just eat her sweets and relax in the comfy chair, surrounded by friends and family and warm night air. She loved these summer nights, when it stayed light until ten o’clock at night and stayed warm until after dark, all night in fact. Mom lit up some citronella candles to keep the mosquitoes at bay. Now that it was darker, they’d start attacking. The flickering light added to the warm ambience on the deck and stars started to twinkle in the cobalt sky. That was another beautiful thing about being at the lake―once it got really, really dark, and that wasn’t until at least eleven o’clock at this time of year, the sky was literally “milky” with the zillions of stars that you couldn’t see in the city. She remembered lying in the grass with the guys, looking up at the sky, watching for falling stars. One year there’d been a big meteor shower and they’d seen shooting star after shooting star, so many that she’d given up making wishes.
A soft warmth unfurled inside her and muscles she didn’t even realize were still tense relaxed even more. And that feeling of letting go kind of scared her a little. She’d hung on to all the tension and stress for so long, she wasn’t sure what she’d do without it. What if she turned into a soft wimp?
“So what changed your mind about coming up?” Tag asked.
She shifted in her chair to look at him. Way up at him. “Oh. Just stuff.”
He arched an eyebrow and lifted his beer to his lips. “Okay.”
“So how are you doing? Happy to be back in the ’Peg?”
He gave a crooked smile. “Yes and no.”
“Mixed feelings? Business or personal?”
“Both. It’s been a long time since I lived here. Winnipeg’s a small city compared to some I’ve lived in.”
“You see it as a step down?” She’d read the news articles about the players’ misgivings about moving to Winnipeg.
“No! Christ no! Believe me, I’m not one of the guys who are complaining. That’s part of the deal. You could end up anywhere. I feel so lucky to be making my living playing the sport I love―wherever it is.” He laid a hand on his chest in a gesture that tugged something inside her. “I feel fucking…er, sorry…”
She gave a quick shake of her head and a smile. As if crude language bothered her, after growing up with six brothers. Sort of.
“I feel privileged,” he continued. “To play the game I love. And to come home and play it in my hometown…” He paused and she saw the genuine emotion on his face. “I’m not going to complain.”
Warmth spread through her. She’d been annoyed by the attitude of some of the players coming to Winnipeg, how spoiled and entitled they’d sounded in their complaints. She should have known Tag wouldn’t be like that. “So what is it? You’re not married. Is there a girlfriend in Phoenix you’re leaving behind?” She wasn’t sure why she asked the question, striving to keep her voice casual. A sister would ask that.
“Lots.”
She pursed her lips and he grinned again.
“It’s a great move for the team,” she said. “Seriously. And the league. With the dollar the way it is, you’re not losing out moneywise. The cost of living is low here. You’re going to do way better in terms of ticket sales, revenue…I’ve seen the attendance numbers at your home games and frankly, they sucked.”
He gave her a level, appraising look. “Oh yeah?”
She returned the look. “What? You think I don’t know the business? I’ve been following this whole story for months. Especially all the legal complications. I’ve found it quite fascinating.” The sale of the team to the new owners had been a long, protracted endeavor that had drawn a lot of media attention, particularly the legal troubles that had arisen in Phoenix over their attempts to keep the team there.
He nodded slowly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you would.”
She tipped her head to one side. “I’m not sure how to take that, Tag. D’you think I’m stupid about sports just because I can’t play them?”
He gave a slow smile that had heat trickling down through her body. “I’ve never thought you were stupid, Kyla.”
The heat intensified, spreading through her chest. “Thanks.”
“Coming home has actually been pretty stressful,” he confessed, turning the beer bottle in both hands and looking down at it. “I’m really looking forward to this week up here to decompress and have some down time.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Me too. I guess.” Then she tipped her head. “How come so stressful?”
“Well. This move is relatively easy for me, compared to some of the guys who are uprooting their families. But they’ve put a lot onto my shoulders―I have to put a positive spin on it for the other guys. And the media. We never got that much attention in Phoenix. It’s just more than I’m used to.” He eyed her again. “What are you stressed about, Kyla? To the point of having panic attacks.”
“Sssh.” She cast an anxious glance around to see if anyone had overheard. But the other conversations going on drowned out their quiet one.
“Sorry.”
She looked at him and shifted again in her chair, sliding her butt down so she could bring her feet up and lean her head back, making it easier to look up at his height. “Stuff going on at work. They’re going to be naming the new partner in the next few weeks.”
“And that could be you?”
“Yes.” Her stomach clenched. “I’m hoping. I actually thought it was going to be today. Which is why I thought I couldn’t get away this week. Turned out…” She grimaced. “They postponed the decision and didn’t bother to tell me. I’ve been working really, really hard for this and…” Anxiety knotted her insides. “Hell, I don’t want to talk about work.”