Page 20 of Rookie's Redemption


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She blinks up at me. "What?"

"Dinner. You know, that meal people eat when they're not surviving on coffee and stress?"

"Are you insane?" She stares at me like I've suggested we rob a bank, her lips parting in shock. "I can't just leave. There's too much to do, and—"

I step closer, close enough that I can see the exhaustion etched in the lines around her eyes. "Babe… When was the last time you ate a proper meal?"

She shoots daggers right into my eyes. "Stop calling mebabe."

"That's not an answer."

"I eat!"

"Granola bars and whatever pastries Emma forces on you don't count."

The fact that she doesn't immediately argue tells me I'm right.

When's the last time someone took care of her? Made sure she ate something that wasn't grabbed between crisis management sessions?

"The animals need—"

"The animals will be fine for two hours." I'm already guiding her toward the office to grab her coat. "You've got that teenager—Zoe?—coming back tomorrow morning, right? And it's not like you're leaving them alone. I'll help you get everyone settled first."

"Ryder, I can't just—"

"Yes, you can." I hold up her jacket, and after a moment's hesitation, she turns so I can help her into it. "When's the last time you did something just for you?"

She's quiet for so long I think she's not going to answer.

Then, so softly I almost miss it, she says, "I-I don't remember."

And that's all I need to hear.

Ridgeview Tavern is exactly what you'd expect from a place owned by a former hockey enforcer.

Dim lighting, mismatched furniture that's seen better days, and walls covered in hockey memorabilia that tells the story of Iron Ridge's obsession with the sport.

Oh, and it's also packed. Like it is every night.

"You've got to be kidding me," Mia mutters as we step inside, the warm air hitting us along with the sound of laughter.

I follow her gaze and see Blake's holding court at the big table in the corner, gesturing wildly while telling what I'm sure is a highly embellished story. Connor's at the bar, charming Eli Thompson, the bartender, into free shots for the team.

And sitting around the table, like this is some kind of cosmic joke I've orchestrated, are Sophia, Natalie, and Lucy.

Shit. I totally forgot the team was heading here tonight.

"We could go somewhere else," I offer, but Mia's already straightening her shoulders.

"No. I'm not going to be run out of my own town's bar by a bunch of overgrown children who play with sticks for a living."

Damn, I love it when she gets feisty.

"Hey, it's the dog whisperer!" Blake calls out, raising his beer in our direction. "And our favorite rookie! Glad you guys came!"

Every head in the place turns toward us, and I resist the urge to grab Mia's hand and run. Instead, I place my palm on her back, feeling her spine stiffen at the contact.

"Ignore them," I murmur near her ear. "They're like aggressive gorillas in the wild. Don't make eye contact and they'll lose interest."