He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not much into fancy places where you have to get all dressed up, and fancy food that I can’t pronounce the names of. Not that I’m that good at Spanish. But I can say ‘tequila’ and ‘tostada.’?” He grinned as he picked up another chip. Then he caught the expression on Amber’s face…something he couldn’t quite identify, a little notch between her eyebrows and a faraway look in her eyes. “What?”
She blinked. “What what?”
“You looked…confused.”
She dropped her gaze and bit her bottom lip. “Confused? No.”
Well, she was something. And curiosity to know more burned inside him. But he was a patient guy. Fishing and hunting weren’t pastimes where you could charge into the woods or pluck a fish out of the lake. You had to be patient. He could do that.
Chapter 18
“What the hell is this?”
Duncan cringed on the phone the next day at Amber’s raised voice. “Uh, what?” He didn’t really need to ask, though. He knew what she was talking about.
“This car! What have you done?”
“It’s just a rental. Until you know what’s happening with your car.”
“I can’t believe you did this! You can’t do this!”
“Sure I can.” He’d rented the car and had it and the keys dropped off at her apartment.
“Duncan! I don’t need a car!”
“Uh, sweetheart…listen to yourself. Yeah, you need a car. You need a car to get to work and school, and you need a car to get to job interviews.”
“I don’t have any job interviews.”
“But you will. Come on, baby. This isn’t that big a deal.”
“Yes, it is.” Stubbornness edged her tone. “I don’t need someone doing shit like that for me.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, that was kinda rude. My parents brought me up to say thank you when someone does something nice.”
Silence. It stretched on until he was afraid he’d really pissed her off and she’d hung up.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and his tense muscles relaxed. “Being a bitch again.”
“I’ve noticed the theme,” he said dryly. “You don’t like me doing things for you. But since you didn’t call me and tell me what happened yesterday or let me help you then, you have to let me help you now.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” she mumbled, and he laughed.
“Sure it does.”
“Duncan. It’s a Lexus.”
“It’s got four-wheel drive. It’s good in the snow.”
“What if I smash it up too?”
“It’s insured. Come on, babe, why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”
More silence.
“Fine.” After another short pause, she said, “Thank you.”
He shook his head, running his tongue over his top teeth as he ended the call. Damn, she was stubborn.
Patience. He wasn’t sure why he was convinced she was worth all this. But he was.
—
Duncan was in no way prepared for the announcement that rocked the team a few days later.
“Max Hall will not be playing for the rest of the season,” Coach announced in the dressing room before practice. Duncan had noticed his line-mate’s absence. He along with everyone else frowned at this news. A few guys muttered and they all shot one another questioning looks.
Christ. What the fuck? Coach had put him and Hallsy on the same line this season and at first they’d really seemed to be connecting. Then he’d noticed Hallsy’s head wasn’t in the game, and Duncan had been feeling more and more annoyed and frustrated. Now Hallsy was gone? What the hell had happened?
“He really wanted to be here and tell you guys this himself,” Coach continued. “But…wasn’t sure he could do it.” He paused and Duncan’s eyes widened and his confusion grew as Coach appeared to have difficulty speaking. “Ariana is sick.” Hallsy’s wife. “Very sick.” He cleared his throat. “She has terminal cancer.”
The room went dead silent. Duncan stared at Coach. Ariana and Max had been married only a year and a half. Everyone had gone to their wedding in Barbados in the off-season. She was young and beautiful and blond and in love with her husband. And Hallsy was in love with her. How could this happen?
“It’s a very rare form of cancer,” Coach went on, his voice hoarse. “And there is no cure.”
Duncan felt like a fist had slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He glanced around the room, and judging from the looks on the other guys’ faces, they all felt the same.
Some made low noises, growls of frustration and pain. Nicky Balachov was Hallsy’s closest friend on the team. Duncan could tell he’d already known. Even so, grief etched his face into tight lines and he’d squeezed his eyes closed. Rupper and Hallsy were pretty close too, but Duncan could see this was a shock to him.
“Fuck,” Duper muttered beside him. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
“It is.” Coach almost looked like he was going to cry himself. “It’s the worst fucking bullshit. But it’s true. He’s been having a rough time lately. She’s been sick and they didn’t know what was wrong. Had some tests. Now they know. She probably has only a few months to live. He wants to spend that time with her.”
Duncan’s nose stung. He swallowed hard. “Don’t blame him.” Guilt twisted inside him, though. He’d been blaming Hallsy. He’d had no idea what was going on with him, but he’d been pissed off at him for not playing his best.