Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I frown and drink my whiskey and then glance at Gid, who’s also frowning. Why do I get the feeling she’s evading?
My phone rings, and when I see that it’s Andy, my agent, I reject the call and set my phone aside.
“For fuck’s sake.”
“What’s wrong?” Gideon asks.
“It’s Andy. He knows that I’m in Montana for my father’s funeral, and he’s still bugging the shit out of me.”
“I’ve always hated that guy,” Wills says.
“What does he want?” Gideon’s voice is hard. It’s always hard, just like the steel in his blue eyes. The way he sets his jaw.
Gid is a badass. And he has to be. He’s in the Secret Service. He protects the most important people in our country.
“You know that my contract with the team ended at the end of the season?”
“Sure.”
“He wants me to commit to another contract. I haven’t listened to his messages, but I’ve seen the texts. It’s about the money.”
“He makes a shit ton of dough when you sign the next contract.”
“Yeah, well, that’s if I sign another.”
That has him and Willow both raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about hanging up your skates.”
I tip my head back, rest it on the back of the chair, and sigh.
“Christ, I’m tired.” I swallow and look over at Gideon, then at Willow. If I can’t talk to these two about what’s going on, I can’t talk to anyone. “I love hockey. I’m not tired of the sport. The thought of not playing anymore, well.” I shake my head. “It’s like being told that I have to cut my own heart out.”
“Then what is it?” Willow asks.
“I’m so fucking tired of being that man’s ATM machine. He’s shit when it comes to money, and he’s always sure to tell me that he needs my deal to keep him afloat.”
“What the hell?” Gideon scowls at me. “Hell no, man.”
“It’s not just that. It’s the pressure of staying on top. I’m thirty-five. I’ll never play like I did when I was twenty-five, but if I have an off game, I’m crucified.”
“Fans don’t get it.” Gideon sips his whiskey.
“Not by the fans. By the coaches, by my teammates. Then, I have the constant work of endorsements. Don’t get me wrong, the money’s great, but it’s constant. Then there’s the shit side of it. People showing up at my house. The paparazzi. Random women being obnoxious.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that fucking hot girls is a real chore for you.”
Willow scowls at something over my shoulder, and it makes my stomach clench.
I smirk at Gideon. “I don’t do that shit. No, I’m not a monk, but I don’t hook up with every chick who looks my way.”
Gideon laughs at that. “You’d have no time for hockey.”
Willow looks more uncomfortable. What’s up, Wills?
“I hate to complain because I have a life that, when I was a kid, I never would have dreamed was a possibility.”
“I get that.”
My eyes meet his again. “I know. You both do. That’s why I can say this shit to you. I think it’s time to retire and come home to the ranch.”
“Oh, Ry,” Willow whispers, shaking her head. “Don’t do something rash.”
“It’s not rash. I’ve been contemplating it anyway. This is just the catalyst to get the ball rolling.”
Blowing out a breath, Gideon looks back into the fire. “He let this place fall apart.”
We’ve spent several days wandering around the property since Dad died, and it’s evident that he did the bare minimum after Mom passed away.
“He fired Dusty.”
Gideon nods. “He told me today. I had no idea.”
“I didn’t know either,” Willow says, holding her hands up.
“Same here. I’ll hire him back, if he’ll come back. Dusty said that he still came by every day to feed the horses. Dad didn’t want to sell them to Dusty, but he wasn’t taking care of them.”
“What in the hell was he thinking?” Gideon asks.
“He wasn’t. He was sad, Gid. He missed Mom, and you and I were gone. I should have come home more to check on him.”
“I should have driven out here more,” Willow adds.
“That would have pissed him off,” he says.
“So he would have been pissed—who cares? He might be alive right now.” I push my hand through my hair in agitation.
“Don’t do that. You don’t know that, and all it’ll do is tear you up inside. What’s done is done. Dad was an adult, and he could have asked either of us, or anyone in town, for help, and he chose not to. The truth is, he missed her, man.”
“Yeah.” I finish my whiskey and set the glass on the floor by my feet. “I know. You’ll stay long enough to help me clean out this house a bit?”
“That’s the plan,” he confirms. “I have four more weeks of vacation coming before I have to get back, and I don’t have a return flight to DC until the night before I report for duty.”