“He was knocked over by a dog looking to get his bear claw,” Declan explains, handing the box of donuts over.
Donna laughs. “Let me guess. Miss Mabel.”
“The one and only,” I say with a laugh.
“She’s a delightful little pup, but needs a bit of training. Josie is so busy with the shop, but the pup has been good company for her.” She goes quiet for a second, and it’s followed by a frown and then a tsking sound. “All alone in that loft over the shop. That’s just not right.”
“She’s new here?” Declan asks. “I don’t remember seeing her around.”
“Moved here from Boston last year. Lovely girl. She owns the chocolate shop on Main.” Donna folds her hands together and a dreamy look comes over her face. “She has the best chocolate nips.”
I nearly swallow my tongue. “Ah, what?” I ask, my mind taking a trip down the ‘inappropriate thoughts’ lane.
Donna makes a little square with her fingers. “These amazing little chocolate nips, with caramel in the middle. Delicious. You’ll have to try them.” I do my best not to look at Declan, because he’ll be smirking—his thoughts as wrong as mine—and I don’t want to burst out laughing, and have to explain why.
“I’m sure Brody would love to try her nips,” Declan says, almost under his breath, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my shit together. As soon as I get him alone, I’m going to give him a beat down.
Donna smiles at me. “Now why don’t you run upstairs and change, and we’ll have coffee and donuts.” Declan’s phone pings, and he pulls it from his pocket. A smile spreads across his face as he quickly texts back.
Donna shakes her head at me. “Must be Nikki. He always smiles like that when it’s Nikki.”
I nod, and resist the urge to ask what the story is between the two when Donna says, “She’ll be joining us for Christmas Eve dinner.” She claps her hands together, delight all over her face. It’s easy to tell how much she likes Nikki from her reaction. “You’ll be joining us too, won’t you?”
I inject enthusiasm into my voice when I say, “Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun.” I mean, it’s not that I’m not looking forward to it, it’s the whole thing about having to bring a date. This week is about downtime, and I’m just so damn played out. While the idea of spending time with Josie doesn’t seem like a hardship, I have my work cut out for me there.
“You’ll be bringing someone, won’t you? If not, Declan’s cousin—”
I hold my hands up to cut her off. “I’ll be bringing someone.”
“Someone I know?” she asks with a raised brow. “Someone local, perhaps?”
“Someone local.” I can tell she’s about to ask who, so I tug at my wet clothes. “I should get out of these.”
“Right.” She points to the wide staircase, “Second door on the right.” She smells her flowers again. “I must get these in some water.”
“Thanks, Donna.” I grab my bag and head up as Declan loses himself in his phone. I undress and pull clean clothes from my bag. I climb into them and drop down onto the bed, stretching out my legs as I pull the shiny object I found in the snowbank from my pocket.
I honestly have no idea if I’ll be able to open Josie’s phone. Most people have passcodes. I slide my finger over the screen and it lights up. Son of a bitch. I lay there for a moment, and a measure of guilt starts in my gut and spreads out. She seemed pretty bummed that she lost her phone, and I’m an honest guy, so by rights, I should give it back. Opening it is an invasion of her privacy and I am so not that type of guy. Hell, I wouldn’t want anyone doing that to me.
As an NHL player, my life is always being photographed, my every move scrutinized. I realize how important privacy is. But when I spotted the phone, and with Declan egging me on, I made a stupid impulsive decision to keep it. Now that I’m going to work with her dog, I don’t really need to peek into her life, to find an easy way for me to insert myself into it. Of course, that doesn’t mean I would have went ahead and looked at her pictures if fate hadn’t dealt a different hand.
I set the phone down, guilt swelling inside me. I’m going to have to give it back, but how can I do that now? She probably thinks the plow carried it away and today, everything is stored on the cloud, so it’s not like she’s going to lose anything important, right? If I give it to her now, she’ll know I took it, and there goes any chance of getting a Christmas Eve date, or spending time with her. Because when it comes right down to it, there was a lot about her that intrigued me. Maybe we could hang out over Christmas, have some fun, and to make up for what it’s going to cost to replace her old phone, I can buy a shit ton of chocolate and have it shipped to friends and family back in Boston.
Feeling a little better about the whole situation, I tuck her phone into my bag, pull my own out and do a search on Josie before I step into the hall. I don’t find much on social media and I’m about to do a little deeper digging when a booming male voice reaches my ears, followed by laughter, and I can only guess Declan’s father is home. I make my way to the kitchen to find Declan, as well as his mom and dad, sitting around the table like a happy family. I go still, about to back up. The image before me is a happy one, picture perfect, and I do not want to intrude upon family time.
“Brody, son, get in here,” Declan’s father says. He stands, taking my hand in his, shaking it as he pulls me in for a big bear of a hug. I’m tall, yet I still have to glance up to meet the man’s eyes.
“Mr. Bradbury, so nice to meet you.”
“Call me Fred, son.”
Every time he calls me son, my heart squeezes a little tighter and I don’t miss the way Declan is watching me, checking in on me. He’s a good friend, always worried about me. I love that about him. I give him a slight nod to let him know I’m good.
“Nice to meet you, Fred.”
He claps my shoulder. “That’s better. Now come on, join us for coffee and tell me more about yourself.” He laughs. “I can’t believe you’re the son of the infamous Carl Tucker. It must have been great growing up with him as your role model.”
I nod, and even though growing up with Carl Tucker was anything but pleasant, I keep a few stories on hand for times like these. It’s not like there weren’t good times. There were, they were just few and far between. But he’s a beloved hockey star and I’m not going to take that away from him or darken his reputation.