Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Just for me?” he inquires. Do I note a tone of dismay? As if he might not like me going to any trouble for him—fancy meal, pretty makeup, hope for something that will never be?
I shake my head and give a hearty laugh of denial. “No, not for you. For me because prime rib is my favorite, and you can’t just make it for one person. So this is really a treat for me, but I hope you like it.”
My back remains to him as I fiddle with the tinfoil covering the rib roast, but I can hear him take off his coat and drape it over a chair.
His voice is closer when he says, “It smells divine. Can I help?”
I don’t detect anything weird in his voice—just sincere olfactory delight and a genuine offer to assist.
“I’m good.” I glance over my shoulder and smile. “But if you want to grab us something to drink, that would be great. I’ll take a water, but I’ve got beer in the fridge if you want one.”
“Waters for both of us,” he announces, and I turn back to finish.
“Tell me about your day while I plate everything up,” I say, needing something to fill the silence.
“Oh, what a day,” Baden groans as a chair slides out. I look back at him as he plops down, setting both water bottles on the table. His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head, as if to ward off any thoughts I might have that it was a bad day. “It was exhausting but thrilling at the same time.”
“More details than that,” I demand. Baden chuckles.
He proceeds to tell me about what sounded like amazing speeches by Brienne Norcross and Callum Derringer and a totally embarrassing attempt at team building by Coach Keller.
Excitement builds in his voice as he talks about his goalies and their first meeting, as well as how they reviewed their own films with him and discussed technique.
He sounds settled and happy, and it makes me happy.
I fix two beautiful plates of rare slices of prime rib with horseradish sauce, roasted garlic potatoes, and tender asparagus tips. I set our plates down on the table alongside previously set silverware and napkins.
“This looks amazing,” Baden murmurs, staring at the plate with genuine appreciation. “I don’t ever get food this good unless I’m in a fancy restaurant.”
“Good,” I reply as I take the adjacent chair. “Feeding people makes me feel good.”
Baden drapes his napkin over his lap and takes a knife and fork, poising it above the prime rib. “I’m going to pay you back and take you out to a nice meal. I’d offer to cook for you, but I suck at it.”
Laughing, I take my own knife and fork. “You don’t have to do that. I really enjoyed cooking this today.”
“I insist,” he replies as he cuts a piece of tender roast and dips it in the metal cup of horseradish sauce on the plate. “Besides, it will be fun. We’ll get all dressed up, plus it will get you out of the house.”
“Okay,” I murmur, working on cutting my own meat. Is that payback for a nice dinner, or is he talking about a date?
Ugh, get out of your own head, Sophie.
“I got some exciting news today,” Baden says, and that pops me out of my stupid thoughts.
“What’s that?”
“My friend Jenna—back in Arizona—she had a Zoom interview with Brienne Norcross today and was offered a job as a press liaison for the team. I talked to her on my way here, and she’s going to take it.”
I hate that my stomach sinks. I hate that he just told me he has a female friend and I immediately equated that to mean girlfriend. I hate that I take his excitement for her coming as a rejection of me.
I’m quite proud of myself that I manage an upbeat, supportive tone. “That’s awesome. Let me know what I can do to help get her settled.”
“Really?” Baden asks, surprise evident on his face.
“Of course,” I assure him, wondering how I built up an illusion of what we could be only to have it shattered so quickly and … painfully.
“That would be awesome, Sophie.” Baden takes a moment, slides a bite of prime rib into his mouth, and groans dramatically. He chews, swallows, and then gushes, “That may be the best prime rib I’ve ever tasted.”
“I doubt that,” I say with a dry smirk. I’m sure he’s eaten at some of the finest restaurants in the world.
“It is, I swear.” He cuts another piece but continues on about Jenna. “Anyway, I would love it if you would help me to help her transition. She’s the sister of the girlfriend of one of my teammates, and on the Vengeance, any family was like your own family. So she’s sort of like a little sister to me, and while I won’t tell you details—I’ll leave that up to her to share as I’m sure you two will become great friends—she and I have a bit in common when it comes to pain and recovery.”