Risky Move: Tampa Suns Hockey Page 6

  Amelie laughed. “The joy of having a fraternal twin.”

  “So, where are you looking for a job?”

  Amelie shrugged, then pointed at a tree in the distance, “A bald eagle.”

  “Let’s see if we can get closer. I’ve never seen one.” They walked in silence a while, their eyes trained on the tree.

  “I’ve applied for a job at a boutique near Cliff’s place,” Amelie answered Cassie’s earlier question. “The hours are flexible, so I can still get out and go to games and sometimes tag along for open practices. Surprised the ice doesn’t melt with all that hotness on skates. Hard to know where to look first.” She grabbed Cassie’s arm. “Oh, I met this new guy from Québéc. I could barely stutter when he spoke to me. So gorgeous, with the French accent. Oh la la!”

  “Older guy?” Cassie said. “I think I saw him at Lauren and Dave’s celebration. Beyond tall, dark, long hair?”

  “Oh, yes! The French guy, ‘Chance’ something. I’d love to get together with him.”

  “Friends with your brother?”

  “Who knows? I met him…briefly…after practice before Cliff pulled the protective brother crap.” Amelie wrinkled her nose. “Says he’s too old for me, reputation as a player, blah, blah, blah.”

  “So that didn’t discourage you one bit?” Cassie guessed.

  “You got it. If I get a ‘chance’—ha-ha—with him, I’m going for it.” She grabbed Cassie’s arm. “I got his cell number. We’ve texted a few times—but please don’t say anything.”

  “Asked you out yet?”

  Amelie’s grey eyes danced as she shook her head. “Just some text flirting and he’s called a few times when they’re away.” She glanced at Cassie. “And that accent…He’s very smooth with his words, but it’s difficult to get him to answer questions.”

  “Mysterious? Hiding something? A wife or fiancée somewhere?”

  “I hope not. Maybe just a private person? I can’t ask Cliff about him.”

  Cassie thought a minute. “Maybe Caryn or Lauren works with him or his agent—you know, they do PR and social media stuff. Not sure they’d tell me anything. Probably confidential stuff. So, you’ve called dibs on him?”

  “Hey, if you have the opportunity, go for it.” Amelie nudged her. “Now, if I hook up with him, then…”

  “I get it. The ‘code’ like the guys say. They don’t know we have our own version.” Her eyes drifted toward the tree where the large bird had perched. “We may not get an up-close view of our bird tonight. It appears the eagle has flown.”

  Cam waited at the Chadwick’s until Cassie and Amelie returned. “Thought you two had gotten lost,” he smirked. He sat at the kitchen counter, watching as Caryn and Andrew fed the twins.

  “I can do that, Andrew,” Cassie protested. “Time got away from us. I’m sorry, Caryn.”

  “For what? I told you to enjoy yourselves. Just try to get that spoon away from Drew.”

  Andrew looked at Cassie with a smile. “Bonding time with my peanuts. Not giving that up.”

  Cassie focused her gaze on Jenna, who eagerly awaited the next spoonful of peaches and then laughed as Jenna spit a mouthful of pureed peaches at her father.

  “And you denied your children would ever do that,” Caryn teased as she handed him a towel.

  “I’ll finish feeding Jenna,” Cassie offered. “Caryn and I both know how it feels to have baby food in our hair.”

  Andrew wiped the towel over his face before he kissed his daughter and pushed back the chair. “Your children are incorrigible, Cary.” He handed the spoon to Cassie. “Thanks.”

  As soon as she sat, Caryn whispered, “His children are perfect angels—my children are incorrigible.”

  “We’re taking off,” Cam said. “Thanks for letting me hang out while I waited for my time-challenged sister to return.” He raised his hands in surrender as two sets of eyes nailed him. “No offense, ladies. Just saying.”

  “Amelie, you’re welcome here any time,” Caryn said.

  “Thanks. A bientôt, Cassie.”

  11

  Tom met with the Suns’ management, coaches, training staff, team captain, and assistant captains to discuss his role as the concussion specialist during home games. Everyone stated they stood behind the process one hundred percent. Tom glanced around the table. “And when I say one of your top players needs to sit during a crucial moment in a game, no complaints?”

  “At that moment, you may hear some choice words from me,” Head Coach Harper predicted. “But no one will keep you from doing your job. I know the training staff will back you.”

  “Damn straight we will.” Jim Pettit’s reply more than confirmed his support. “You know these guys—they fight you every step of the way. Even when they can’t see straight or walk without stumbling. Before his accident, Andrew was one of the hardest to take off the ice.”

  Tom chuckled. “No surprise there. So, the others don’t take concussions more seriously after what Andrew went through?”

  “Some do. Others think it can’t happen to them.” Pettit met Tom’s gaze. “Welcome to the team, doc.”

  “I scheduled a team meeting tomorrow after morning skate.” Harper glanced at John Peterson. “Expect any resistance?”

  John shrugged. “Some—especially the older players and the rookies. I’ll handle them. Those on the team two years ago shouldn’t protest at all.”

  John walked with Tom to his car. “Thanks for taking this on. No one wants to hear they need to leave the game, but the more we’ve learned about concussions, the less easy it is to shrug it away. Now, the players on the other teams…I can’t make any promises, but with Pettit briefing their training staff on the protocol before each series and the front office speaking with the GMs, no one should be surprised.”

  Tom shrugged. “When someone’s health’s at risk, there’s zero tolerance for debate. You know that Andrew would have been back on the ice long before they cleared him.” He laughed as he rested his arm against the top of his car. “If I could tolerate his frustration, I should be able to handle anyone else’s complaints.”

  “You headed back to the hospital?”

  “Off until after tomorrow night’s game. I’ll be transitioning to a more defined schedule. Fewer multi-day shifts.”

  “Maybe time for a life outside the hospital. Stop by later—I’ll buy you a beer to celebrate.” John slapped Tom’s shoulder before heading to his car. “Thanks for what you’ve taken on, Chadwick.”

  Later, stepping out on the pool deck to swim laps, Cassie caught Tom’s attention. He stopped a minute when his gaze fell on her bikini-clad body. Her body curved in just the right places, her legs stretched for miles, and Tom suddenly realized he was not looking at her like Jenna and Daniel’s nanny. Cassie stirred something unexpected inside him—even before “the kiss”—definitely not an older brother instinct.

  Tom forced his mind elsewhere as he walked over to the other side of the pool and dropped his towel on a chair. He slipped into the pool and hoped that swimming laps would draw his attention to a more appropriate subject than his friend’s niece and brother’s nanny.

  Cassie opened her eyes, realizing she’d drifted off to sleep in the sun's warmth despite the music pounding in her ears. She stopped the playlist and glanced at her watch, relieved that she hadn’t slept the afternoon away. Jenna and Daniel should still be napping. She sat up, reached for her water, and for the first time, realized she had company. It took her a minute to decide that Tom, not Andrew, was swimming laps, and a playful smile spread across her face as Cassie walked to the side of the pool. She waited until he was in range, and using both hands heaved a wave of water toward him, striking Tom in the face as he turned his head for a breath. Shit, I didn’t mean to do that. Cassie slipped into the water, an apology on her lips as Tom stood and coughed until he caught his breath.

  His brown eyes met Cassie’s, and before she could apologize, he pounced, pushing her under the water. Cassie tried to reta
liate by knocking him over, but she might as well have been trying to move a concrete wall. She pushed away and broke the surface, taking a quick breath before Tom dunked her again. This time, she swam away from him and cautiously emerged on the other side of the pool.

  “I didn’t mean to splash water on your face!”

  His brown eyes narrowed but held a playful gleam. “Just where did you intend to hit me?”

  “Um, maybe the other side of your head. Bad timing. I’m sorry. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Day off, but don’t change the subject. A couple of dunks aren’t enough.” He started toward her, but Cassie took off, swimming diagonally to the far corner of the pool. She hoped he wouldn’t realize her direction, but she had only swum a few yards before Tom grabbed her leg and pulled her underwater. This time, when she squealed, she received a mouth full of water and quickly pushed to the surface, coughing and trying to catch her breath.

  “Trying…to…drown…me?” She got one word in between each cough.

  He was beside her in a moment, his arm wrapped around her waist until she caught her breath. “You all right now?”

  Her hazel eyes looked at him warily. “Are we even?”

  Tom laughed and fought the urge to hug her. Instead, he withdrew his arm from her waist. “More than even. I wasn’t trying to drown you.”

  “That would make a great headline, wouldn’t it, doctor?” Cassie moved to the edge of the pool and rested against it. She laughed, but it triggered more coughing.

  “Hey, did you swallow water?”

  She shook her head. “If I did, it was because I was laughing. I’m fine.” She ducked underwater to smooth her hair away from her face. When she emerged, she teased him. “So, there is a fun side to our good doctor.” She looked toward the house and saw Caryn en route to the nursery. “I’d better get inside to help Caryn. I think nap time just ended.”

  Tom pushed himself onto the side of the pool and offered a hand to help Cassie. She grasped his hand with a smile but didn’t speak until she stood beside him on the tile. “You don’t know how tempting it is to pull you in.”

  “Yeah, I thought about that. Truce?”

  “Sure…until next time.”

  Cassie quickly entered the nursery, a coverup thrown over her swimsuit and her hair still soaked.

  “I’m sorry, Caryn. I lost track of time. Do you want me to take Daniel?”

  “You deserved the break. Go ahead, shower, and change. You’ll get chilled with Drew’s preferred setting on the AC. They can play for a while before dinner.”

  “Thanks, I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time.”

  Cassie couldn’t contain a smile when she thought about playing water tag with Tom. Really haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. How could I have dozed off and not heard him get into the pool? Glad I didn’t sleep through his work out.

  She loved the impromptu battle in the pool. She hadn’t had that much fun in…forever? Never with a guy who made my heart skip a beat just by looking at me. I hope he doesn’t think of me as some pesky little sister…no, surely not after “the kiss.” But he’s the forbidden one…the gorgeous doc who’s off-limits for too many reasons—topping that list—his girlfriend, Katie.

  Revived by the warm shower, Cassie threw on some cut-offs and a T-shirt and ran a comb through her hair. She brushed it behind her ears and frowned when she saw all traces of her “accent color” washed away. Not worth it if I’ll swim. Though I didn’t plan to get in the water. But sooo glad I did. She tingled just thinking about Tom putting his arm around her waist. Maybe I should have just continued to cough…

  When she returned to the family room, both Andrew and Tom were keeping the twins busy bouncing balls back and forth.

  “What, no hockey sticks yet?” Cassie teased.

  “Give them six months!” Caryn responded from the kitchen.

  “Maybe basketball?” She watched as Jenna heaved the ball up into the air.

  “That or maybe a quarterback.” Tom caught her eye with a wink. “What if neither pursues athletics?” he taunted his brother.

  Andrew didn’t look at him as he rolled the ball back to Jenna. “In the unlikely event that occurs, I’ll encourage them to find something they enjoy.” He glanced at Caryn. “We know the pitfalls of trying to plan a child’s future.”

  “Amen.” Caryn looked at Andrew with a knowing smile.

  Cassie walked into the kitchen. Watching Andrew and Caryn interact always made her long for her own someone to share that kind of love. Caryn told me she wasn’t much older than I am when she met Andrew. She didn’t meet him at college—though they bumped into each other on the campus. Andrew just cut across her path on his daily run…So freaking romantic. And random.

  “What can I do to help, Caryn?”

  “Since Jenna and Daniel are happy for now, would you mind cutting up the banana? Otherwise, you-know-who will just mash it around on his tray.”

  Cassie giggled. “My mom has a picture of me feeding myself SpaghettiOs…I was literally covered with them and had decorated the tray and the floor. They started putting a plastic tarp under the highchair to protect the wood floor!”

  “Maybe we’ll skip the SpaghettiOs,” Caryn said. “Though, I guess any pasta has the same potential.”

  “Spaghetti’s easier to throw,” Andrew warned.

  Cassie exchanged a look with Caryn before they both laughed. She enjoyed working in the kitchen with Caryn. They chatted about all topics, especially when they were alone.

  “Have you and Amelie talked recently?”

  “She got the job she applied for at that boutique. It’s close so she can walk.”

  “Maybe she gets a friend and family discount?”

  “I’d enjoy that!” Cassie lowered her voice. “Her brother nearly had a stroke when she applied at The Center Ice Lounge. Isn’t that the place where the team goes after games?”

  Caryn nodded. “He probably didn’t want her to cramp his style or hookup with someone on the team.”

  “But isn’t there some kind of code like ‘Don’t date another player’s sister?’”

  Caryn laughed. “You’d have to ask Dave or Andrew…nieces and nannies may fall on that list, too.”

  Cassie chuckled. “No doubt.” At least she didn’t mention brothers or doctors.

  12

  Tom’s introduction to the Suns as the arena’s in-house concussion expert ended up a non-event. Those who had been on the team when his brother was injured spoke in a positive tone. He read the “It’ll never happen to me” expression on the young players, and a hint of combativeness from the veterans new to the team.

  “This some new bullshit from the commissioner?” Chance Gagné grumbled.

  “That’s a hard no,” Captain John Peterson replied immediately. “This initiative originated in the Suns front office. The league concussion spotters don’t have the expertise to properly recognize the more subtle signs of a concussion.”

  “I’ve gone back on the ice with my equilibrium questionable. You learn to fake it, right?” Steve Rogers said. “If you’ve read the stories about athletes diagnosed with CTE, it’s not a joking matter. Remember the player who committed suicide because he couldn’t tolerate the cumulative effect?”

  “And those who retired after multiple concussions,” Jason Hart added. “Many don’t want to take the chance of permanent damage. This is serious shit.” He addressed the younger players. “No more pressure to suck it up and push yourself when you know you’re not right. The Suns front office has our backs. I, for one, am grateful.”

  “See if you feel the same when Ekstrom gets yanked during a game.” Gagné didn’t hide his skepticism. “You know you’ll do everything you can to prove you’re okay to get back on the ice.”

  “I would expect nothing less,” Tom said. “Keep in mind I’ll be working with the visiting team. We will evaluate everyone with the same criteria. Hopefully, not too often.”

&nbs
p; “Don’t bother trying to bribe him,” Andrew said. “I already got shot down.”

  Most of the team left the meeting in a positive mood, and many stopped to thank Tom for taking on the responsibility. Jim Pettit stood beside him, watching the last player leave. “We know the guys who’ll fight us every step of the way. But if we can get through to the young kids, it’s worth it. They feel the pressure to perform and worry their place on the team will evaporate if they’re hurt. Maybe when they see a clear path outlined for clearance to play, it will ease that worry. Ready for introductions to the visiting training staff and coaches?”

  Tom shrugged. “Why not? Better now than in the third period with the game on the line.”

  After the first few games passed with only minor questionable hits to the head, and no push-back or negative feedback from either team’s players or coaching staff, Tom relaxed a bit. He had yet to prevent a player from returning to the ice after a head hit. Coach Harper offered him a place behind the bench, but Tom preferred to monitor the games from the trainer’s office. Multiple feeds broadcast the entire ice, which enabled him to view the big picture of a game. Both teams’ trainers served as first responders when a player’s head hit the boards or the ice. Many went to the team’s concussion protocol room, where Tom performed a quick, but thorough evaluation. Mostly, the players expressed gratitude for the second evaluation.

  Just wait until I have to tell someone to sit for the rest of the period, the game, or transport to the hospital for further tests. Hopefully, never an injury that requires transport…Memories of his brother’s long recovery from a Traumatic Brain Injury that resulted from unintentionally blocking a shot with his head stayed fresh in Tom’s mind. Playing a role in Andrew’s recovery led to an opportunity to complete his residency in neurology—at the same hospital where Tom had assisted with his brother’s treatment and recovery plan. When the Chief of Neurology, Dan Forster, offered Tom a position, it felt more like a gift, not work.