Page 56 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
“Deal.” It’s not the same as stopping at a sex toy store to buy something for later, but it’s a beautiful and kind idea, causing heat to spread through me.
Either I’m an incorrigible pervert or she’s getting to me, and I’m not sure which it is anymore.
* * *
After picking up two bags of gifts because it’s all we’d be able to fit in my car, we drive my Porsche through the relatively quiet streets of Boston to the children’s hospital in the medical district out past Fenway Park. Harper navigates with her usual efficiency, but there’s a lightness to her and I like to think I’m responsible, that my gift touched her. She’s wearing her shoes now with black dress pants and a jade-green sweater that sets off her hair and eyes, making them so vivid I want to kiss them.
It was almost a shame she had to put a coat on, a long black wool coat more practical than anything, but it’s cold today.
“Today’s a good test of the heater in this fucking car.”
“I don’t know why I let you take this car.” She laughs and shakes her head. “You’re just lucky there’s no snow.”
I give her a mock horrified look. “Okay you talked me into it.”
“Into what?”
“I need to trade in the sports car and drive an SUV like everyone else around here.”
“Hold on until the end of the season, Maddox. The way you’re going you’ll be able to afford both cars and a big place with a multicar garage to keep them.” She treats me to a brilliant grin.
My chest tightens. After a beat of concern over my heart, I internally scoff because it’s an emotional clenching of muscles, something I’m not used to, but I’ve experienced this before. A long time ago in high school when I was too young to defend myself.
Though I wasn’t too young to be committed to staying single. I’ll never forget breaking that girl’s heart, along with a little piece of my own. Mom helped me chalk it up to learning and I know all teens go through it somehow or another. But I’m an adult now and I have no business even thinking of dragging Harper through something like that. I know better. I need to shore up my defenses.
“There’s the garage on the left.” She points and I swerve the car and downshift to slow as we enter the driveway with the kind of smooth motion that the low-slung car was made to execute. I hope she’s right about my outlook because I would miss this car.
Inside, we approach the reception desk and Harper asks for visitors’ passes to the children’s ward.
“Who will you be visiting?” The friendly older woman asks. I step up.
“This is a surprise visit,” I say. “I’m with the local hockey team—” The woman’s eyes pop wide and she shoots to her feet, nearly knocking the glasses off her nose.
“You don’t have to tell me who you are, Mr. Knight. What a wonderful surprise.” Harper nods at me in approval as the woman fusses and makes arrangements for someone to meet us in the general common area where the kids who are able to can play and take breaks and socialize. She says they’ll gather as many children as possible to meet us there.
I carry the two bags of gifts: assorted small toys, pucks, and Brawlers hats and scarves, and we follow the bubbly receptionist, who takes nonstop about my hat trick the whole way.
We step out and there’s an army of nurses, doctors, and orderlies waiting.
“The Brawlers and all of us fans are so lucky you got traded here, Mr. Knight,” the receptionist says.
Before the doors slide closed I thank her and we’re surrounded and led down the corridor in a Secret Service style huddle as if we might be assaulted. Harper is used to being around VIPs but I can tell she’s a bit unnerved. I’m used to all kinds of chaos when I drop into hospitals unannounced.
As soon as we get to the room, where kids are still being wheeled in, a cheer erupts and my chest expands as I look around and count my blessings. These kids need every ounce of positivity they can get and I’m going to give them all I have.
Harper whispers that she’s impressed with my kid skills. I tell her it’s cause I’m still a kid at heart and I identify. I don’t tell her how deeply I identify with kids who have serious medical issues.
My own medical condition is one secret I intend to keep.
* * *
The game the next day is a disappointing loss because we had the lead and blew it. Not fit for company, I text Harper not to wait for me after the game and catch a ride home with Finn, heading straight for bed when I get there. Next morning I leave early for practice and when I get off the ice, hungry and exhausted, I get a text from Harper.Don’t dawdle at practice. I have a surprise waiting for you at home.
My exhaustion disappears as my mind runs away with the possibilities, all X-rated, before I calm myself into the realization that she’s not talking about that kind of surprise. She’s Harper and we agreed our last close encounter was not going to be repeated.
What if she’s changed her mind?.
My hope is dispelled when I pull my car into the driveway off the back alley and find a catering truck from Buttermilk & Bourbon parked there. I’m more intrigued than disappointed as I let myself in the back door.
