Chapter 8

Eight

LOU

T he team is winning this season, but it isn't because of me. I've accepted my fate without Maria's lemon bars, and it doesn't seem to matter how many lemons or lemon desserts I try, none of them work. I've tried the other bakeries in the city, including the grocery store kind, and it's all to no avail.

"For a guy that's on a losing streak, you're surprisingly chipper," Alexis tells me as she checks out my knee.

I shrug, then wince as she touches a tender spot.

"Does it have anything to do with a fuzzy dog staying at your place?" she asks and prods at another spot.

The thought of Cinnamon makes me smile. "How'd you know?"

"Gabby."

Of course. The two of them are close. "You two like to gossip about me?"

"Not usually, but Gabby worries about her dog."

"Her dog?" I ask.

Alexis gives me an assessing look. "As long as the rescue is on the paperwork, it's her dog. You going to do something about that?"

"Not fair to the dog."

"Right, because having a human all to herself that loves and spoils her isn't fair."

"How do you know I spoil her?"

Alexis pointedly looks down at where I've set my phone on the bench beside me. On the lock screen is a picture of Cinnamon in her red Christmas sweater vest in the back seat of my Jeep on Christmas day. There's a small pile of dog toys next to her.

"It's cold outside," I tell her.

"Right."

"And I didn't want her chewing up my backseat."

She nods agreeably, but there's a smirk on her face letting me know she finds it funny. She tries to keep her face straight as she says, "You're making sure she doesn't get bored."

"Exactly." I pick up my phone and flip it over.

"Because that's what a good dog dad would do." Alexis pats my shoulder. "Rest your knee and if it's still bugging you let's tape it tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mom." I tease.

She points a finger at me, a stern expression on her face. "And if you eat all your veggies I'll give you a sticker."

We both bust up laughing in time for Dan to pop in the doorway. Alexis beams at him like he's the great Gretzky or something before waltzing over to him. Even with him covered in sweat from practice she doesn't seem to mind being near him.

He doesn't even look at me as he waves to me and says, "We'll see you at the party later."

He steals his wife away, and I get my stuff before heading home to Cinnamon. It feels good to have Cinnamon there, to not be calling an empty apartment home. Although I feel bad that I'll have to leave her alone after a quick walk.

"Cinnamon." I call when I open my apartment. But I don't hear any of the excited barks coming from inside.

In fact I don't hear any noise at all. Dropping my bag by the door I rush through in search of my dog. My dog. I look all around the kitchen and living room. Her toys are exactly where they were when I left after lunch. The guest room doesn't have her in it, and neither does my room. I'm standing in the middle of my room panicking when I hear a bark followed by a feminine laugh through the wall.

Immediately I go next door and knock.

More barks and more laughter follow from inside. When Maria pokes her head out of her apartment with a very happy Cinnamon between her feet relief washes over me.

"How did this happen?" I ask.

Maria shrugs. "I got home and she was sitting by your door. My guess is the door didn't latch or something and she snuck out, but couldn't sneak back in."

"When did you get home?"

"Around one. I left my cousin at the bakery so I'd have time to get ready for the party."

"I left for the arena at twelve forty, we just missed each other. Thank you for taking care of her."

Now that I'm not panicking over Cinnamon's absence I take the time to really look at Maria and have to keep my jaw from dropping. The woman is beautiful in a pair of jeans and a shirt, with flour stuck in her hair. But it's not the same as this equally beautiful, but confident version of her. The way she stands in her dark pink dress with her hair falling loosely in long waves around her shoulders. Her eyes draw me in, since they aren't glaring at me with intent to do harm. In fact, I don't detect any malice or ill will as she looks at me.

"You are stunning." I mean every word as I say it.

Her cheeks turn rosy, and she looks away. "Thank you."

"Do you want a ride to the party?" I ask her, and then I start to ramble. "Since we both live here, then we'd only need to take one car, not two."

"Oh." She looks surprised. "I need to pick up the cake from the bakery. Is that a problem?"

"Nope."

Cinnamon thumps her tail as she turns her head to look at each of us.

"I'm just going to go take her out really quick and change, and then we can go. Give me thirty minutes?"

"Actually I just took her out," Maria says. "And thirty minutes is great."

I take Cinnamon back to my place, and do a fist pump as soon as the door closes behind me. Cinnamon barks and I rub her head.

"It looks like things are turning around." I tell her in my doggy voice, it's the same voice I use when I talk to my baby niece. "Yes they are. Yes they are."

Unable to stop grinning, I give her a treat which she immediately takes to her dog bed to eat.

With her occupied, I take a quick shower before getting dressed in my best suit, it's a dark blue and my favorite for game days. I don't want to ruin the start of a good thing by being a slob. I comb my hair and even put some of the gel Hannah mailed me for Christmas in it. Then I make sure to run through the appropriate toiletries for the evening. Deodorant check, toothpaste check, mouthwash double check. Last but not least I pull out the cologne I only use for special occasions and put some on.

I feel as nervous as I did going to prom as I stumble putting in the silver cufflinks. I'm almost done getting dressed when there's a knock at the door. Taking my shoes and jacket with me, I set them on my coffee table near the couch to answer the door.

Maria stands outside.

"Come on in. I just need to put my shoes on and then we can go." I move to the side so she can enter and after she's in I close the door.

I quickly go to my couch so I can get my shoes on. I've just finished tying them and look up to see Maria's now moved to the end of the couch to look at the pictures of my family hanging on the wall.

"Ready to go?" I ask.

She turns and smiles, but there's a nervous edge to it. She looks down and I follow her gaze to see a small plastic container in her hands. Not a bakery to-go container, but a home kitchen leftover type of container, with a red lid I can't see through.

Curious, I ask, "What's that?"

"A peace offering?" She says, but it sounds more like a question.

I look around me to see if I can give her something, but come up empty. "I don't have anything to offer in return."

"You let me play with your dog, and you're giving me a ride, and helping me pick up the cake. It's fine."

She holds out the peace offering and I take it from her. I pull off the red lid to look inside and see the familiar sprinkle of powdered sugar on top of a yellow square.

"My lemon bar!" I say excitedly.

She made a lemon bar just for me. Not for a long line of customers willing to pay.

I set the container on the coffee table, careful to make sure it's far enough from the edge it won't fall off. Then I put the lid down next to it. I stare at it, afraid to blink in case it disappears. But it's still there, it's still real.

In a burst of pure unfiltered joy I stand up and swoop her up into my arms to twirl her. An honest to Stanley Cup twirl around my living room.

Maria laughs, and oh the sound of it is light and carefree. It's better than a cold drink on a blistering summer day. Her laughter, just like her, is absolutely stunning. In this moment I'm struck by how light and free her laugh also makes me feel, and I want to hear it every day. The suddenness of the thought sends a shock through me, and I slow down to a stop, before gently lowering her down to her feet.

We look at each other, her eyes bright with laughter, and I carefully brush some of her hair away from her face. The moment is thick with a feeling I don't dare examine too closely.

I'm too focused on the moment, I don't think to pay attention to Cinnamon. Then out of the corner of my eye I see it. Across the coffee table, Cinnamon zeros in on Maria. Her excitement ramping up to an all-time high as her tail wiggles furiously. Too impatient to walk around the table, she moves to leap over it.

In what feels like an agonizingly slow moment I see her paws fly through the air and send the lemon bar container flying. My body freezes as I watch the container spin before it goes tumbling off the edge. My brain screams at me to move, to save it, but I'm frozen as it flips upside down. Powerless as I watch in absolute horror as that perfect, sugar-dusted square of good luck goodness, falls free of the container and splats on my hardwood floor.

Maria gasps, even as she tries to calm the dog excitedly wiggling beside her.

"Oh Lou," She says.

I shake my head. "Don't let Cinnamon eat it. I don't want her to get sick."

Then I have to walk away. I have to take a moment as I gather the stuff to clean it up. All the while I contemplate if a splattered lemon bar would still bring me good luck.

A fter the lemon bar is cleaned up, and the cake is picked up, Maria and I arrive at the Serenity Bay Resort where Nate and Lia have booked a space for the engagement party. The oceanfront resort is as fancy as the name suggests. Tall ceilings stretch high above us, held up with gleaming white pillars. Massive windows line one wall framing the ocean. The waves are visible beyond the glass, as is the strip of beach in front of the resort.

Maria's eyes lock onto the table designated for the cake and without a word, she directs me towards it. I carry the cake box over and place it exactly where she points, then back away to give her space to do her baker magic. She's completely in her element as she begins unboxing, positioning, and checking the frosting with the kind of precision and attention to detail that come from experience and skill. I'm awed by how graceful she is when she's doing what she loves.

Lia and Nate soon join us, they're the perfect engaged couple complete with outfits in a matching creme color. They're all smiles, moving in sync. Lia's hand brushing his arm, his head tilting toward hers as she looks up at him. Their body language is so perfectly matched with each other. There's a comfortability between them that speaks volumes of their deep understanding of each other. While Lia is gushing over the cake, in a very excited voice, to Maria, Nate gives me a look. The one that says he has questions and I'm going to answer them here or on the ice.

"Drink?" he asks, his tone too casual.

We walk together to where bar drinks are being served. I chuckle to myself when I realize that the options are the same as the arena's private box for family members. I look over the options before choosing a Coke for myself.

"It made sense for us to take one car," I say, trying to sound indifferent. "Just being neighborly."

He nods, his gaze steady as he takes a sip of his own drink. "Makes sense."

"It's not a big deal," I add.

He laughs. "Is that what you're telling yourself?"

"It's not." I insist, but it feels more forced than it should.

He just shakes his head, not even trying to hide his knowing smile. "Lia got a text from Maria earlier. Apparently, we don't need cake security tonight..."

He waits to see if I'll take the bait, but I don't want to curse my luck that seems to be changing.

"You should ask her for a slice of cake."

My eyebrows shoot up, and I can't hide my shock. "Is she lifting the ban?"

"Don't go crazy." Nate pats my shoulder, then saunters away to greet some of the other guests arriving. Leaving me standing there, my mind reeling.

I want to do a victory dance or grab Maria and twirl her around like I did in my apartment. Instead, I play it cool, gripping my drink and finding a spot in the room to watch her work. She's finished with the cake already, and Lia is grinning beside her. No doubt showering compliments to her friend for a job well done. The cake shows Maria is a master artist and she should be complimented. Maria is smiling too, and it makes something warm unfurl in my chest.

The party, despite the more formal setting, has a relaxed feel. It's clear Nate and Lia just needed a big enough space for the team and close friends and family to gather. I'm chatting with Dan and Alexis when I see Sofie enter with a few other women. One of which happens to be my own sister, Hannah. I excuse myself and go to see my sister, slinging an arm around her shoulders as I approach.

"Well look who decided to show up," I tease. "I thought you had a big important client you were helping with."

Hannah smirks, nudging me with her elbow until I drop my arm. "Well you should have known I wouldn't miss this. Besides my client decided they wanted to get away and Glacier Bay sounded like a quiet place to do that."

"How long are you staying?" I ask.

"At least a week. Wanted to get in a game and book club. Sofie tells me I can't miss this one."

"Good book?" I ask casually and try my best to act a normal level of indifference as I take a drink.

"Oh, it's a real page-turner. Isn't that right Maria?" Hannah's voice is too innocent, too perfectly timed.

I choke on my drink, coughing as I try to clear my airway. Maria had approached without me noticing from a direction I wasn't looking. Now she stands there calm as ever.

"I liked it," Maria says, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "A little predictable, though."

"It's romance, isn't it supposed to be?" I ask her.

A familiar glare appears in Maria's eyes. The one that says I'd be a dead man if looks were a registered weapon. I hold up my hand to halt whatever verbal assault she's about to release upon me. "Romance is all about the happily ever after right? They meet, they kiss, the end..."

I stop talking, realizing too late that I've said too much. A quick glance at the rest of the women around me shows that I've made a grave error. Hannah shakes her head at me like I'm a poor idiot that's just said the dumbest thing she's ever heard. Sofie is grinning like she's watching a live-action play unfold in front of her and just needs popcorn. The other women look between me and Maria, waiting to see how she'll respond.

Maria's voice is firm, passionate. "Reading romance isn't about predicting the end. It's the journey of how it all happens. It's seeing the worst happen and finding happiness anyway."

Her words hang in the air between us. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I've never looked at it like that before, and maybe, just maybe what she's said doesn't apply to just books.