Then again, neither had she, because she wasn’t going to be in love with a hockey player.
When they’d fixed the snacks, Jenna took them into the living room. The guys were watching the race. Tyler was sitting on the sofa, his forearms on his knees, just as intent on the action on the screen as her dad, Mick, and Nathan.
“Number thirty-six looks good this year,” her dad said.
“No way,” Ty said. “Rumor has it he and his crew chief don’t get along well and the owner’s looking to make a change there. He’ll be lucky to make it the season in his car.”
Her dad glared at Ty. “Just because you’re one of those number forty-seven butt kissers doesn’t mean you know all, son.”
Tyler laughed at him. “Mark my words. He won’t make it half the season.”
“You’re both wrong,” Mick said. “The number fifteen is the car to beat this year.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Now, boys. Don’t fight. I brought snacks.” She laid them on the coffee table. Ty grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him on the sofa.
Not one of the guys, including her father, made mention of the fact she and Ty were snuggled up together. No one even looked at them since they were all too absorbed in the race. Two hundred miles an hour was obviously way more exciting than Ty’s arm around her. Plus, they were guys. They didn’t care.
She was making entirely too big a deal out of this. She needed to relax.
It was spaghetti and meatballs night, one of her favorites. Mom had made homemade bread and as it baked the smell permeated the house. By the time dinner was ready, Jenna’s stomach was in full-on growl mode.
They gathered around the table and dug into the food, all conversation at a halt while everyone filled their plates and their mouths.
“So, Ty, the last time you were here it was when Gavin brought you,” her dad said. “And Liz is your agent. Now you’re here today as Jenna’s boyfriend.”
Oh, crap. Jenna paused, the fork midway to her mouth, and turned her gaze on Ty.
Way to put him on the spot, Dad. Where was he going with this?
Nowhere, obviously, since he didn’t continue his train of thought, leaving Ty to somehow formulate a response to her father’s non-question.
“Yeah. I’m really glad to be back. I missed Kathleen’s excellent cooking.”
Her dad beamed a wide grin. “Can my wife cook, or what? She’s amazing. Some of the great food you eat at Riley’s are Kathleen’s recipes.”
“Oh, Jimmy. You’ll make me blush.”
“Hey, it’s the truth.”
“I love the smothered steaks at Riley’s, Kathleen,” Ty said. “I eat that every time I’m there.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief. Ty didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the boyfriend comment.
Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe being called her boyfriend didn’t even register with him, or he blew it off as not meaning anything.
“You’re so sweet, Ty,” her mom said. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I don’t get home-cooked meals very often, so this is great.”
“Doesn’t Jenna cook for you?”
“She’s at work and I’m usually playing games late. But she’s cooked for me before.”
“I don’t cook,” Jenna said. “I come over here.”
“Well, if you two end up getting married or something, you’ll have to learn how.”
She cringed at her dad’s comment. “We’re not getting married, Dad. We’re just dating.”
Ty grabbed her hand, squeezed it. “Hey, I’m pretty good with a gas grill, so I don’t think we’ll starve.”
Her dad nodded. “Good to know. That girl stays way too busy. You’d think she’d have learned how to cook by now.”
Jenna gritted her teeth. So many things she wanted to blurt out, but she held her tongue. Her dad was a traditional guy in so many ways, though he didn’t mind her running the family bar nearly seven freakin’ days a week. If he ever bothered to come back and take it over, maybe she’d find some goddamned time to learn how to cook, or do any of the hundred other things she never had time to do.
Like get a life of her own.
She bent her head, guilt washing over her. Last year her father had nearly died of a heart attack. She had no business pointing imaginary fingers at him for his lack of duty to the bar. He could do whatever he wanted with his life. She was just damn glad he was still alive.
Ty patted her thigh under the table.
“You okay?”
She gave him a quick nod. “Fine.”
“How’s the bar, Jenna?” her mother asked.
She lifted her head, the smile plastered back on. “Doing great. Really busy almost every night of the week.”
“Weeknights, too?” her dad asked.
“Weeknights, too. With basketball and hockey, they keep the place hopping. It also doesn’t hurt that several of the Ice players have made Riley’s their home away from home.”
Her mom cast a warm smile Ty’s way. “We appreciate you coming to the bar. Our patrons love it when sports figures show up there.”