Jules tore his gaze from the big screen above the bar as the second period began. “Do you play golf?”
She thought of the putting green in Ty’s house. Of the night
she’d worn his shirt. The cotton against her bare skin and scent of his cologne on the collar beneath her chin. Of him standing behind her while she’d swung at the ball. “No, but I can drive one of those golf cars,” she answered and took a drink of her merlot. On the screen above the bar, she watched Ty skate across ice with the puck in the curve of his stick. He passed off to Sam, then he skated behind the net to the other side and Sam passed the puck back to him as a Detroit defenseman collided with him just inside the blue line. The two fought for possession, shoving and throwing elbows. Ty’s head snapped back and the whistle blew. The ref pointed at the defenseman as Ty raised one gloved hand and covered his face.
“He was hit with the butt end of a stick,” Jules said, leaning across the table toward the bar.
Ty lowered his glove and blood ran down his cheek from the outside corner of his left brow.
“Not his face!” Faith yelled before she even realized she’d spoken out loud. “Don’t hurt his face.” She felt as if someone had hit her in the stomach. The Red Wing fans simultaneously cheered and booed as Ty skated from the ice and the Detroit defender skated to the penalty box. One of the Chinooks trainers handed Ty a white towel and he held it to his eye as he turned and watched the replay on the big screens suspended high above mid-ice.
“Shouldn’t he go to the hospital?” Faith asked.
Bo and Jules both looked at her like she was nuts. “It’s just a cut,” Jules pointed out.
Ty pulled the bloody towel away as the trainer looked at the corner of his eye and Faith’s stomach tilted a little more.
“Gee.” Bo shook her head and took a drink of beer. “It’s bleeding like he hit an aorta.”
“Your aorta is in your heart. Not your head,” Jules pointed out.
“Yeah. I know that, numb nuts.” Bo set her beer back on the table. “It’s called overstating something to make a point.”
“It’s called stupid.”
“Stop it! How old are you two, for God’s sake?” Faith put her hands flat on the table. “Ty has just sustained a gash to his head. This could be serious.”
Bo shook her head again. “It’s not that bad.”
“They’ll have him fixed up and on the ice by the third frame,” Jules added as Ty and the trainer stepped from the ice and headed into the tunnel.
“I don’t think so.” If she’d been hit like that, she’d need a full night’s stay in a hospital and lots of painkillers. Ty wasn’t as big a baby as she was, but there was no way he could come back after receiving such a gash.
But Jules was right. When the front-line offense took the ice in the third period, Ty was with them. The corner of his eye was only slightly swollen and was taped with white strips. Blood stained the front of his white jersey, but he skated his shifts.
In the closing minutes of the game, the score was 4–3 in favor of Detroit. Coach Nystrom pulled the goalie and loaded the ice with his first-line players, but despite a hard effort, it was Detroit’s night, and they won 5–3, scoring on an empty net in the last ten seconds of the game.
“We’ll beat ’em in our building Monday night,” Jules predicted as they all three left the bar.
The drive from the bar to the penthouse took about fifteen minutes. Pebbles wasn’t around, which meant her mother was already in bed. Faith brushed her teeth, washed her face, threw on a Looney Tunes T-shirt, and went to bed herself. The wine and excitement of the game had taken its toll and she went out minutes after her head hit the pillow. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep when the telephone beside her bed rang and woke her up. She reached for the receiver in the dark and hit herself in the forehead. “Ouch. Crap. Hello?”
“Did I wake you?”
She blinked. “Ty?”
“Yeah. Are you alone or is that dog in your bed?”
“What?” She felt around and her fingers touched fur. “Pebbles is here.”
His soft laughter filled her ear. So rare it poured through her and woke her up inside. “That must mean my dad’s there.”
“He must have snuck in after I went to sleep. Did you want to talk to Pavel?”
“God no.”
She licked her lips. “Then why are you calling?”
“I’m not quite sure.”