15. Hank

15

HANK

T he Paluchek-Milligan Start of Summer Barbecue was apparently an annual affair. This year it coincided with Jake's return home from Boston and an influx of the NHL and AHL players who'd arrived early to coach Elmwood's wildly successful juniors camp.

It was a gorgeous day for a party—seventy-five degrees and not a cloud in the sky. The sweet summer vibes were impossibly idyllic and welcoming. I soaked up the scenery, my gaze bouncing across the spacious yard decked out in red, white, and blue bunting.

A sea of smiley folks gathered on the lawn, sipping sodas and summery cocktails while kids and dogs ran circles around them, howling like mini lunatics. A familiar Bob Marley tune piped through a Bluetooth speaker, reminding everyone that every little thing was gonna be all right. For a few hours, I believed it.

I was greeted warmly and handed a beer within seconds of arriving solo to the barbecue, where I was the undisputed outlier. Denny had been asked to help set up, and that was cool. There was no reason for us to be attached at the hip, and I was perfectly capable of holding my own socially. The trick was to not talk about the mill.

Not a problem. Hockey, vacation plans, and the weather were safe topic changes if I got stuck with anyone who wondered who'd invited me, since I obviously didn't know our hosts.

I wasn't shy, though. I introduced myself to Bryson Milligan, an impossibly handsome silver fox holding a sleepy toddler with olive skin and a pink bow in her curly dark hair.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "I'm Bryson, and this is our daughter, Charlotte. She's almost two…and she's a little tired, aren't you, baby girl?"

Charlotte shook her head, burrowed into her father's shoulder, and held up three fingers. "I'm three."

"Wow. That's a good number," I commented.

Bryson chuckled softly and whispered, "She ages herself to be like her brother, Nathan, who's out there running amok. Make yourself at home. Smitty is at the barbecue with Denny and their high school all-star team. Denny's talked about you and…I know Smitty would love to meet you too."

I spotted Denny at the far end of the yard, standing with MK. Her arm was around his waist in an affectionate embrace as they chatted with a giant tattooed man with broad shoulders and a jolly aura. I hadn't met the high school hockey coach yet, but I'd heard a lot about Smitty. I stepped off the deck, intending to weasel into the conversation.

Something stopped me, though.

I paused under an umbrella and observed Denny, my heart thumping in my chest for reasons unknown. He looked genuinely happy and relaxed in the company of people he allowed to know him—his ex and his coach. His skin was golden from hours in the sun with Bess, his smile wide and open as if he didn't have a care in the world. My gaze roamed over his toned biceps to his perfect ass…just as Mary-Kate dipped her hand, skimming her fingers possessively on his lower back and?—

"The new neighbor!" Vinnie Kiminski, my teenage hockey crush thrust his hand at me. He was a muscular man with dark hair and a contagious grin. And once upon a time, he'd struck fear on the ice in the NHL. "Good to see you, man."

"You too." I shook his hand and narrowed my eyes at the blond kid hopping on one foot beside him. "Jumping beans or ants in your pants?"

The boy snickered, flashing missing front teeth.

Vinnie ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Someone slipped Alec a soda…or two."

"Only one, Dad," Alec huffed, hopping around me. "Do you have a horse? I saw one in your field when we were catching frogs at the creek."

"Ah, I actually have two horses," I replied. "Bess and Fred. They're super nice. Well…Bess is nice. Fred can be ornery."

"Oh. I rode on a pony at the fair two times, but I've never been on a horse."

Vinnie blinked in faux surprise. "Wow, I feel like I know where this is going."

"Can I meet your horses?" Alec asked, undeterred. "I'm almost seven. That's old enough to ride a horse, right?"

"Absolutely. Come by with your dads sometime."

Alec whooped with joy. "Yes! Thank you! I have hockey camp all summer, but I can come after camp."

I smiled, loving his unrestrained enthusiasm. "I'll give your dad my number, and we'll figure something out."

"Woohoo!" He jumped, punching his fists in the air before darting away.

Vinnie snort-laughed. "That's what we call the Alec avalanche. Congrats. You just won a friend for life."

"Lucky you," JC drawled, joining the conversation. "I have to rely on food to make friends."

"How's that going for you?" Vinnie teased.

"Terrible. Kids are bad for my waistline. They like zee shakes and pomme frittes and gateau au chocolat . I should get a horse like Hank. No calories, eh?"

Vinnie shook his head mournfully. "Meh, Riley will never go for it."

"Go for what?" Riley asked, snaking an arm around JC.

Yep, another hockey idol. Apart from the occasional up-nods in town, I hadn't had a real conversation with Elmwood's elite hockey crew. Not only was Riley Thoreau a great player, but coming out publicly when he was still in the league had elevated him to rock-star status in my mind.

"We're getting a horse, mon cher ."

Riley rolled his eyes. "It would probably decimate the veggie garden, and that would just piss you off."

"True. Well, it was a nice fantasy while it lasted." JC sighed.

We all laughed. Our circle grew as conversation shifted to camp news and the higher than anticipated influx of newbies.

"It sounds like a six-week party," I observed.

"Oh, hell yeah!" Vinnie launched into funny camp exploits from the past.

I chuckled along with everyone else as my gaze drifted across the yard to Denny and his friends, which now included Jake and a couple of guys I recognized from the mill…Niall and Micah, who definitely didn't like me.

This was a perfect opportunity to charm them. This was why I was here in the first place—to make friends and spread goodwill, on behalf of Bruce Cunningham and RM Mill. I wasn't Denny's date. This was a job.

But now Denny was making his way to me…and fuck, I needed to control my smile. I was too obvious.

"The prank war needs to stop," Riley was saying. "It was out of control last year."

"Say what?" Smitty bounded forward, his arms raised like goal posts. "You're just jealous 'cause my team out-pranked yours."

"No snakes in my rink, Smitty," Vinnie growled while everyone guffawed.

Smitty turned to me and winked. "They were fake. My kid loves critters and for some reason, Bryson was against getting a real amphibian, so Nathan has a collection of rubber snakes. I took a few on the first week of camp, spread 'em around the rink, and lowered the lights. Those idiots wouldn't get on the ice."

"The snakes were moving, Coach," Denny deadpanned.

"One or two might have been battery operated," Smitty admitted with a shrug. The group chuckled. "I was thinking of trying out Nathan's plastic cockroaches this year."

Vinnie almost choked on a potato chip. "Don't you dare. Our camper-to-volunteer ratio is too low to withstand any fallout. Behave, Paluchek."

Smitty lowered his sunglasses and waggled his brows. "I always behave."

Another howl of laughter. I joined in, sneaking a sideways glance at Denny when his arm brushed mine.

"I'm happy to volunteer if you need any help," I offered.

Vinnie pointed at me. "Better be sure, new guy, 'cause we'll take you up on that."

"I'm sure."

"Get that man a beer!" Smitty called out, pushing a hand toward me. "Smitty Paluchek. Denny's old coach. He tells me you're cool, so you must be. Welcome to Elmwood."

Someone slapped me on the back, someone took away my warm beer and replaced it with an ice cold one, someone organized a volleyball game at the nearby net and included me on their team.

I wasn't sure what to think of my newest stamp of approval, but I wasn't complaining.

Denny and I played volleyball on opposite sides of the net, we talked to other people, we lost sight of each other off and on throughout the afternoon, but I was always aware of him. Always. Those secret looks and clandestine touches tethered me to him like an invisible string.

I noticed that Denny was good with kids, liked spicy mustard on hot dogs, and that he loved JC's potato salad. I also noticed that Mary-Kate stayed close to him…like a doting girlfriend.

The afternoon gave way to soft evening shadows, and though the party was still going strong, I didn't want to overstay my welcome. I thanked my hosts, slipped out the side gate, and immediately ran into Denny's friend Niall.

"Mr. Cunningham."

"Hi, there. Nice to see you," I said, offering my hand and a smile that felt a tad plastic. Like I was trying too hard.

He stared at my hand for longer than was polite before shaking it in a loose grip. "You know Coach?"

"We just met tonight. I'm a friend of?—"

"Denny's," he intercepted. "I know. See you at the mill."

Niall stepped around me and headed for the gate.

Okay, so that was odd. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I'd just received my first face-to-face "Fuck off and get out of town" warning. And yet, he hadn't said a word. It was all vibes.

I was halfway down the block when Denny called my name. "Can I get a ride?"

I turned, hands in my pockets, and waited for him. "Are you sure you're ready to leave? It's early."

"I've had three beers, and someone was talking about tequila shots. You know how I get."

"Disaster," I commented.

"Total disaster." He quirked his lips. "Save me, Hank. Where's your truck?"

"I walked."

"All right. I'll walk with you. Just don't go too fast—I overdid it with the hot dogs."

Denny cast a quick glance over his shoulder and waved at Niall, who was standing at the curb. Great .

We walked along Walnut Street under the canopies of lush green trees. Neither of us spoke. I had things to say and questions to ask, but it was difficult to focus now that I had him to myself again. The accidental brush of fingers on the narrow sidewalk was enough to make my dick perk up and take notice.

Denny pushed the button at the crosswalk on Main Street. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, it was great. They're good people."

"They like you."

"Your high school buddies look at me like I'm as slippery as a pocketful of pudding," I drawled. "But everyone else is cool."

Denny wrinkled his nose. "A pocketful of—ha! I've never heard that saying before in my life."

"Really? That's a Bruce Cunningham staple. Or a Texas thing. My dad has a saying for everything. If someone is shy, he says they wouldn't bite a biscuit. If someone's experienced, he'd call them a three-jump cowboy. If someone's cheap, they're tight as a wet boot. If a guy is a little nutty…Dad says he's got a big hole in his screen door." I bit the inside of my cheek while Denny chuckled merrily. "I could keep going."

And I did. Hotter than a honeymoon hotel, cold as a banker's heart, tough as stewed skunk…

Denny laughed aloud as we continued along Main Street, the setting sun bouncing off the tidy awnings and the hodgepodge flower boxes decorating the storefronts. He pointed out the giant banner spanning the width of the street that was now dedicated to Jake. Next week, they'd hang a new one welcoming the campers and their families.

"The ice cream shop will stay open every night till nine o'clock at night. Later if there's a line out the door." He hooked his thumb toward the bakery behind us. "Henderson's Bakery and Rise and Grind will stay open till eight. In case you're curious, Grams has big opinions about that."

I snorted. "I bet she does."

"In her day, if you wanted sweets, you'd ‘take care of that craving during respectable business hours, damn it.'" Denny grinned, brushing his arm against mine. "Personally, I'm a fan of summertime late night ice cream runs. My friends and I used to go after practice, order triple-scoop cones and eat them at the park. Chocolate, vanilla chocolate chip, and mint chip. Niall got all rocky road, Abe got sherbert…'cause he's weird like that, and Micah would get whatever color spoke to him that night. On a green day, he'd get mint chip, blue days would be that bubblegum flavor no one is supposed to like after puberty."

"That stuff is pretty awful," I agreed as we passed the fountain in front of Town Hall. "What about Mary-Kate?"

Denny tilted his chin curiously. "She wasn't with us. It was just me and the guys. Even with hockey, it took me a long time to make friends here. I was good at my sport, but I didn't know how to be good in a group. Coach Smitty used to tell me that I couldn't play hockey alone, and he sort of pushed me into making an effort."

"How?"

"He made me team captain and had me work with my teammates on drills. I thought for sure they'd hate me. Like…who does this dude from Denver think he is, bossing us around? I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to talk to anyone on that team.

He paused, his gaze locked forward. "I didn't care about making friends or having a life here, but my team—Niall, Micah, Abe, Richie, Ewan, Steph, Tim, Harry—didn't give me a choice. They adopted me, accepted me. No questions. It was a lifeline I didn't know I needed. I think we're all protective of each other because we bonded at a critical time. We were all new to Elmwood High, and the team was new, so…we didn't judge each other harshly. They're like my brothers."

"I see. And you're telling me this because…let me guess—you noticed your friend was kind of a dick back there?"

Denny winced. "I'll talk to him."

"Don't." I scoffed. "That's ridiculous. He didn't do anything wrong. He just doesn't like me."

"It isn't you personally. Or even the mill. They don't trust new business," he stated bluntly. "Trust takes time. But volunteering to help out at camp is good juju."

He shot a sly smile at me as we crossed the street to the dirt path parallel to the creek.

"And now I'm nervous."

"You should be," he teased. "But you'll get more karma points for that than you will for hanging out with me."

There were no lamplights on the road leading to my place, but there was little to no traffic here, and twilight was still an hour away. I glanced up at the pale-blue sky streaked with pink against the hillside dotted with trees, houses, and steeples in the distance; and the road to our left, hugging the edge of the forest. It was gorgeous.

And quiet.

The whisper of a breeze through the trees and the occasional trill of birds was the only sound for miles. It was like stepping into a landscape painting saturated with color, steeped in serenity.

"I like hanging out with you," I said, breaking the silence as we stepped onto the front porch.

Denny beamed. "The feeling is mutual."

"Must be something in the water." I rested my hand on his hip and moved into his space, pulling him closer and nuzzling his neck. "Strong stuff. 'Cause I want you all the fucking time."

Denny licked my bottom lip, hiking my shirt up as he splayed a palm on my chest. "Then what are you waiting for?"

I captured his mouth, molding our hips and dragging my arousal against his. He was impossible to resist. Every touch made me want more than my share.

I pulled away with a strangled sigh and adjusted my throbbing cock. "C'mon, Romeo. Let's check on the horses."

Denny's theatric groan made me laugh. He tugged at my belt loop as we bypassed the house and made our way to the barn, grumbling about cockteases and his jumbo-sized dick.

Maybe I was guilty of deflection, but I needed a minute to rearrange my thoughts before I dove in headfirst again. I was jealous of his ex and worried I'd lost sight of my goal to get out of this town ASAP. And I wished I had the right to touch him in public. You name it—my issues were growing by the day.

And the biggest issue by far was that this felt less like a mutually beneficial "friendship" to me and more like my undoing.

The unraveling had already begun.