The focus of his gaze shifts to the brick wall behind the booth where we’re sitting. “I didn’t plan to return to hockey.”
His confession pushes my question to a whisper. “Why did you then?”
His shoulders relax, and those delicious lips of his turn upward in a warm smile that reaches his eyes. “Kinsley. She deserves to go after her dream. And college isn’t cheap.”
“No, it isn’t.” Seeing the love swimming in his gaze while he speaks about his sister causes a knot of emotion in my throat. And a longing for someone to look like that when they talk about me makes breathing difficult.
Another bunny trail trying to run off with my thoughts? I fold my second slice in half and take a bite, then do a sweep of the pictures on the wall above us.
“Is that Wayne Gretzky?” I point to a picture of a hockey player in motion, bent over his stick and skating with the puck.
One side of Luke’s mouth tips up as if he’s pleased I knew who it was. “Yep.”
“Good ole 99,” I saywith a swagger.
He raises his brows in a mix of surprise and humor. “I think I’m impressed.”
I set down my pizza to take a drink of my soda. “I was a sports editor for my college newspaper. And we had a hockey team.”
“Really?” Sarcasm drips from his voice.
My defensive nature rises with the challenge. “Yes, really. And I enjoyed it. Except for the smell. No one enjoys that.”
He grunts again. “You’d be surprised.”
But then his smile slides into something more serious. Exactly what? I’m not sure because his chin is tucked, shielding his expression from me. “But you weren’t thrilled about being assigned to cover the Sun Kings.”
That earlier knot of emotion settles back into my chest as I recall our first conversation in the locker room, and a need to explain overwhelms me. Not to justify myself but because I care very much about what he thinks of me. I don’t know when that happened—maybe in Jacksonville when he commandeered my camera and took pictures of me.
I still haven’t uploaded the images to my computer and looked at them. I’m tempted to just delete them, but I’m also curious to see what he captured. When I’m behind the camera, it’s not just the imagery that guides me but the emotions the imagery evokes. I guess that’s what makes me afraid to see what he saw.
As if preparing to give my confession, I wipe my hands and mouth. “You’re right. I wasn’t at first. It felt like a step backward and away from what I really wanted.”
“Your own column?” His intense stare stops my inhale midway down to my lungs as if what I say next could either tip the scale in my favor or against.
“Yes. I have this vision of writing about romance in Sarabella.”
His confused expression borders on a sneer. “A dating column?”
I shake my head. “No. More about the best places to plan a romantic dinner or take a sunset walk or propose marriage.” I rush into more of an explanation as my cheeks heat. “The idea started while helping my best friend plan her wedding. But now I’m realizing there’s so much more that this column can be.”
He’s not saying anything, so I stumble on.
“My original idea was to focus on romanceinSarabella. But now I see it more as Sarabellaisthe romance.” I feel the passion and parameters of my idea expanding as I speak it out loud and lift my hands to gesticulate. “Sarabella may be a small, albeit growing, beach town, but there’s so much more to it than just the gorgeous beaches and sunsets. There’s a creative and entrepreneurial spirit that’s erupting in quaint businesses, a growing movement in the arts, and now a hockey team that’s adding to an emerging sense of community.”
I stop to catch my breath, but the admiration in Luke’s expression snatches it away again. His Adam’s apple bobs with his effort to swallow before he tucks his chin. “We should get going before I’m too tired to drive us back.”
Something in me sinks. Does he think my idea’s ridiculous? I thought for sure he’d be pleased to hear how I consider the Sun Kings part of the romantic appeal in Sarabella. It certainly would go a long way in bringing up the team’s reputation.
Or does he still lump me in with those reporters who dig up dirt on anything and everyone just to gain notoriety?
Unfortunately, I can’t blame him. I finally had a chance to read the article Marty gave me, and it’s not pretty. The reporter glossed over his mother’s accident and revealed some very disparaging things about Luke’s father. Arrested and sent to prison for drug dealing not long after he walked out on his family—I did the math.
The gossip rag that broke the story is known for inflammatory reporting and gets sued regularly. I’m guessing that explains the short life of the piece, but obviously not beforethe damage was done to Luke and his sister. I can only imagine how exposed that made Luke and Kinsley feel.
I want to ask him more about it, but I won’t because he’ll think I’m just digging for a story, which is as far from the truth as the sun is from the moon. I’d never include anything about it in my profile on him or the team.
But in light of his confession about returning to hockey, I can’t help wondering about his decision to walk away from the sport he clearly loves and is extremely good at. Couldn’t he have figured out a way to keep playing?
