Hard Fall Read online

  “Okay,” she said, sighing heavily like it was the most horrible thing she’d ever agreed to. “But it has to be fresh, okay? I’m fucking tired of seeing fresh content everywhere else while we keep recycling the same old shit.”

  “I understand, and I’m open to any ideas you have.”

  “Coming up with ideas is your job, not mine. My job is to keep this place running.”

  “Well, something I’m working on is learning to make baby food at home. I could write about that.”

  Her hum made me think she was about to pass, but she surprised me and said, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll put it on the budget for June.”

  The front doorbell at the house rang, and I heard Annalise’s pounding footsteps as she ran toward it. The nanny Nina recommended was starting today, on a day Annalise didn’t have preschool to make things a little easier.

  “Hey, I have to go. I have a meeting,” I told Liz.

  “Okay. Send me some detailed budget notes on the things we discussed when you have time today.”

  She hung up abruptly, and I shook my head. I hadn’t paid much attention to how bitchy my boss was before, but after getting a break of more than a week from her, I realized I hadn’t missed her one bit.

  So far, the people I was around in St. Louis were nice. Not just Nina, but everyone affiliated with Ben’s team who had stopped by the house had been kind and helpful. It made my heart hurt to see how much his teammates missed Ben, but it was really nice to have so much support from people who’d loved him and his family. They were still dropping off meals and asking if we needed a hand with anything.

  “Hi, I’m Wes,” I heard Wes saying to the new nanny as I walked out of Ben’s study.

  “Hi, I’m Tori. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Yeah, you too. Hadley should be here any—”

  “Hey,” I said, smiling as I walked into the foyer. “You must be Tori.”

  Her wide smile was as perfect as the rest of her. She was tall and blond, with bright blue eyes and just the right amount of curves. I couldn’t hold her looks against her, but I’d been hoping she’d be more average looking, because I didn’t want Wes thinking she was here for his amusement.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, shaking my hand. “And this must be Benny.”

  She leaned closer to Wes, who had Benny in his arms, Benny’s back against his chest so he could see what was going on around him. As she gently touched the tip of her finger to Benny’s nose and gave him a wide-eyed, openmouthed grin, he let out a little laugh and smiled back.

  “He’s adorable,” she said, looking at me. “I love babies.”

  “Why don’t we sit down in the family room and talk?” I said. “Can I get you anything to drink, Tori?”

  “I’d love some water, thank you.”

  As we walked toward the family room, Wes leaned close to me and whispered, “Shot of whiskey for me. Oh, and maybe a meat and cheese tray. I’m kind of hungry.”

  I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for his humor, and said, “Get your own drink.”

  He smirked at me as Annalise yelled from the other room, “Uncle Wes, watch this!”

  By the time I returned to the family room, Tori had Benny in her arms and Annalise on her lap.

  “Do you like tea parties?” Annalise asked Tori.

  “Oh, they’re my favorite.”

  “Really?” Annalise slid off of her lap. “We could have one right now!”

  Tori got down on the floor with the kids, managing to tickle Benny and make silly faces at him, drink imaginary tea with Annalise and answer our questions about her experience with children all at the same time.

  “Can you put just a little more milk in mine?” she asked Annalise, holding out her imaginary cup.

  “Regular milk or chocolate?” Annalise asked in a serious tone.

  “Chocolate, please,” Tori said. “And would you like one of these delicious cookies I made?” She held out an imaginary tray.

  “Yes!” Annalise pretended to take one and nibble on it. “It’s delicious!”

  An early childhood education major at a local college, Tori was exactly what we needed. She could work six hours a day on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and evenings and weekends as needed. Plus, the kids already liked her.

  “Have you ever had any traffic accidents or tickets?” Wes asked her, probably because she’d be driving the kids places on occasion.

  “No. And I don’t drink or smoke or anything like that.”

  “Okay, good.” Wes met my gaze across the room and said, “Hey, why don’t we step into the kitchen and find some actual cookies if we can?”

  I followed him into the kitchen, and Wes gestured toward the corner of the room furthest from the family room. When we were both standing there, he whispered, “What do you think?”

  “I like her.”

  “Yeah, I think she’s really good with the kids. Would it be enough for you, since she can’t be here on Tuesdays and Thursdays? Because we can keep looking if you need someone full time.”

  I shook my head. “She said she could do evenings on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I could work then.”

  “You think we should hire her, then?”

  “I do.”

  “Great.” He took a step toward the family room, and I put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  “Hey,” I said.

  Wes arched his brows and waited for me to continue. His forearm was warm and muscled, and it was the first time I’d touched any part of an attractive man in a long time, so I was distracted.

  This was Weston Kirby. The guy who had made a lame comment about me liking wieners the first time we met. Who’d brought a date wearing a skintight tank top and stripper heels to Annalise’s first birthday party. And who’d told me a couple New Year’s Eves ago, while drunk, that his greatest wish for the year to come was that I’d get laid so the massive icicle wedged up my ass could melt a little.

  He might be hot, with his chiseled face and blue eyes that landed him on magazine covers, but he was still Wes. Somehow, I had to ignore his looks and just spit out my concern.

  “I, uh…you can’t, um…” I cleared my throat. “If we hire Tori, you can’t, you know…”

  He narrowed his eyes in a look of complete aggravation.

  “Hadley, I’m getting really sick of these comments about me trying to jump into bed with every woman I see.”

  I tried to whisper but it came out louder than I wanted, “She’s not just any woman. She’s about to become our very attractive, nineteen-year-old nanny. There are entire websites devoted to the seduction of nannies.”

  He furrowed his brow and whispered back, albeit harshly. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, but it sounds like someone’s got quite the porn habit.”

  “Why are you such an asshole?” I asked, groaning.

  “Why are you such a shrew?”

  “Just give me your word you won’t lay a hand on her. The kids have lost so much already, and if they get close to her—”

  Wes took a step toward me, and I could feel the heat of his body. “Fine, but you have to promise me you won’t try to bone the gardener.”

  I scoffed. “Bob is like fifty years old, Wes.”

  “So what? He’s got a dick and when a woman hasn’t had any for, in your case, I’m guessing years, she might just jump on the closest man she can find.”

  “You’re being absurd.”

  “And you’re not? I’m a twenty-nine-year-old man, Hadley. It’s been about a decade since I had any sort of romantic interest in a teenager. Stop insulting me because you assume I’m the worst kind of man. You don’t know me.”

  I put my hands on my hips and said, “If it’s a given you’ll keep the relationship entirely professional, you shouldn’t have any problem giving me your word.”

  “Fine,” he snapped. “I give you my word. Now give me your word on Bob.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I promise to keep it professional with Bob.”


  There was a flicker of something in Wes’s eyes before he said, “And my teammates.”

  I recoiled. “Your teammates? Are you fucking serious? You think I’m trying to get with one of your teammates? I don’t even know their names. I can hardly keep my head above water with the kids and my work and trying to shower every day, so the last thing on my mind is hooking up with one of your teammates.”

  He gave me a satisfied look. “Then maybe you know how I feel, because I’m in the same boat, Hadley. I’m just trying to keep up with hockey and the kids.”

  I reluctantly sighed. “Okay, that’s a fair point.”

  He looked at his watch and said, “Let’s go make Tori an offer. I have to get to practice.”

  “Hey.” I sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I know what you must think of me.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I just want to do the best we can for the kids, okay? That matters more than anything right now.”

  I nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Things are gonna be better now that you’ll have more help.”

  I felt like even more of an asshole now. I’d been bitchy to Wes, but he was still being nice to me. I squared my shoulders and smiled.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” But the smile slid away as I said, “If I could only call her…Lauren, I mean. I think that so many times every day. If I could just hear her voice for even a few seconds, telling me that I can do this…” My throat tightened and I looked away.

  “I know, Hadley,” Wes said softly. “Me too.”

  I didn’t have Lauren, though, and I’d never have her again. It still hurt like nothing ever had before. And not only did I have to find a way to get myself through this, I had to get Lauren’s children through it, too.

  Chapter Seven

  Wes

  Despite the insanity going on at home, I’d been doing my damnedest to get my head out of my ass on the ice. It wasn’t just me, though. The whole team was in mourning, one way or another. Ben hadn’t just been our team captain; he’d been our friend. Every team had a captain, and I’d played on other teams with other captains but none of them had ever been like Benjamin Whitmer—smart, funny, and empathetic. That last one wasn’t a word most professional athletes used much, but it applied to Ben in spades. It was what made him the best friend a guy could ask for, a great husband and father, and the most incredible team captain I’d ever played with.

  Without his presence in the locker room, we were floundering. When it came to on-ice stuff, like talking to the refs and the mundane bullshit that was part of the game, we were fine. Nash and I could handle that. What we didn’t have was the love and respect of everyone in the room. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely accurate—there was a lot of love and respect between the majority of us in general—but we didn’t command the same respect Ben had. And somehow, I had to get there. Maybe not to the same level, because I wasn’t trying to replace him, but someone had to replace the role he’d played. We still hadn’t won a game, and if this kept up, we’d break the record for the most losses in a row.

  Tonight’s game was against Washington and they were hot right now, on a badass winning streak, chasing us for first place overall in the league. We’d been so far ahead in rankings when Ben died. We were still in first, but only by two points. A loss to them tonight would mean a tie and I desperately wanted to prevent it. So though it pained me, I had to step up and take Ben’s place as the leader. Nash had already said he didn’t want the role, so I was going to do it unless and until my teammates decided otherwise.

  “Listen up, boys.” I stood up and looked around. Coach had just come in—he knew I was going to talk to them—along with the rest of the coaching staff and they shut the door behind them. “It’s time. I don’t know how deep you have to dig, what inner strength you have to tap into, but our losing streak ends now. Ben would be horrified. If he’s looking down on us, he’s cursing a blue streak. We cannot—no, we will not—continue down this path. So tell me what you need. If it’s not me, that’s okay. Let’s vote on a new captain, because we’re not doing this anymore.”

  There was silence as most of the guys fidgeted, looked at the floor, did anything but make eye contact. Finally, Lars spoke up. “No, has to be you. No one else. Ben would want this.”

  “Ben’s gone,” I said softly. “And as much as I miss him, we’re still here so this has to be about what we want. All of us.”

  “You.” Nash stood up. “Absolutely you.”

  “We don’t have to decide about a captain tonight,” Coach said quietly. “But something has to give.”

  “All in for Wes.” Drew stood up next. “We need a captain and he’s it.”

  One at a time, every guy on the team stood up and essentially pledged their allegiance to me. Had I been anywhere else, I might have given in to the scratchy feeling behind my eyes, but since I couldn’t, I merely nodded.

  “So as a team, we’ve decided to name Weston Kirby our new captain. I’ll let PR know.” Grizzly started to walk out with the other coaches but I called to him.

  “Hang on, Coach.” I took a breath. “I accept the vote of confidence and will take on the role in every way that matters, but I’d like to wait until next season to wear the C officially. I’d rather we finished the season with Ben still our honorary captain, and perhaps vote in another alternate. That way, we’re covered behind the scenes but we continue to honor him publicly for the rest of this season.”

  Everyone seemed to nod in agreement.

  “Tonight, we play for Ben. For real. We take no prisoners; we take no shit. Get out there and play the game we were playing before the night of January fourteenth.”

  We filed onto the ice and when the game started, it was like someone had flipped a switch. Nash was all over the place, passing and shooting, making opportunities to score happen. Lars was a fucking bulldog, not just defending Drew, but every one of us, every time he was on the ice. By the end of the first period, we were up 3–0 and it felt like the magic was back—the same shit we’d lost when we’d lost Ben. But a three-goal lead was the most dangerous lead in hockey, so we couldn’t let up.

  I skated out to the face-off circle to start the second period and Washington’s enforcer, Denby Harrowman, gave me a smirk.

  “Ready to go down, Kirby?”

  I smirked right back. “Give it your best shot.”

  “Seems to me you can’t shoot for shit without your buddy Whitmer.”

  My grip on my stick tightened as I gave him a look. “Watch your mouth.”

  “What are you gonna do? Without Whitmer, I bet you can’t even suck your own dick. Too bad he didn’t die at the beginning of the sea—”

  The next few minutes happened in slow motion, as if I were someone else, looking in from the outside. I didn’t remember dropping my gloves or throwing the first punch, but there was a reason Harrowman was an enforcer and he came right back at me. I was fueled by grief and rage, though, so every time my fist connected with his jaw, his head snapped back. Hard. He got in a few good shots to my eye, but I finally got him down on the ice, my knee in his chest as I punched his face repeatedly. It took both Lars and Nash to pull me off of him and all I saw was red as the ref pointed to the tunnel, indicating a game misconduct and who knew what the fuck else.

  I sat in the locker room breathing hard, blood dripping down my face, completely oblivious to our team trainer, who had to stitch me up. I didn’t remember what I said to Coach when he asked me what the fuck had happened, but whatever I’d said seemed to appease him, because he grunted under his breath, patted me on the shoulder, and moved on. I was probably going to be forced to have a meeting with the player safety department, but I didn’t give a fuck. No one talked about Ben that way. And sure as fuck not this soon after his death.

  We won. Despite a five-minute penalty, we killed it off and went on to score two more goals, even without me. The mood in the locker room was the best it had been. I snuck out once again, but at least I’d lit a fire under
their asses. Now I just had to calm down, because even after beating the living shit out of Harrowman and getting it out of my system, I was still on a tear. I wanted to rage, to yell and scream and drink and hit things. Harrowman’s comment—even though I knew it was nothing but trash talk to throw me off my game—cut deep, an indication of just how much Ben’s death had affected me.

  Part of the problem was that I hadn’t really grieved. With two kids at home and a busy hockey schedule, there was no time to breathe, much less give in to grief. The team offered counseling, but I had to be realistic, and the reality was that I didn’t feel comfortable talking to a stranger about what Ben had meant to me and how much losing him changed my life. The one person I could talk to, and would have talked to if she wasn’t such a bitch, was Hadley. I tried so hard to be nice to her, to show her we could work together to raise these kids, but she shut me down time and time again. Our relationship was as exhausting as Benny and Annalise were.

  I let myself into the house quietly, hoping she and the kids were asleep, but she was in the kitchen when I came in. She turned around right away, a look I couldn’t quite decipher on her face.

  “Hey.” I stopped to grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

  I turned in confusion. “What?”

  “You know how much Annalise likes to watch her uncles play hockey. You know she watches as many games as she can stay up for! How do you think she reacted to seeing you fighting like that?”

  Crap. I’d never given a second thought to Annalise watching the fight.

  “It couldn’t be helped,” I said quietly. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow and explain that it’s part of the game.”

  “It’s violent and disgusting!” she hissed. “What you did to that poor guy…I can’t believe you think you’re fit to be a parent to anyone’s kids, much less these ones!”

  I whirled on her, fists clenched at my sides. “You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know the first goddamn thing about hockey, or me for that matter, so why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself for once?”