“I love dogs,” she’d exclaimed. T.J. had beengrateful. It saved him interrupting his training and kept him from worryingabout Ford. A win-win.
As he clipped on Ford’s leash, he glanced at Serena. “I oweyou.”
Her smile slid from sweet to sinful. “Maybe we can figureout a way for you to repay me?”
Shit. This girl wants to play. Messing with the staffwas not a good idea, especially for a guy on the team’s tightrope.
“Uh, sure,” he threw out as he hurried from her office. Ifhe hadn’t had a good reason for Natalie to watch Ford before, he certainly didnow.
He settled the dog in the back, climbed into the driver’sseat, and before he could scroll through emails on his smartphone, Fordstationed himself in the front passenger seat. As T.J. was shaking his head, atext caught his eye. He tapped the number.
“Yo, T.J. Brother, what’s up?”
Brother, my ass. “Hey, Money. Haven’t talked to yousince San Jose.” When you blew me off.
“Been busy. You know how it is. How you doing?”
“Oh, you know. Living the high life of a benched NHL player.It’s just one fucking funfest. So you’re coming to Denver?”
“Yep. We play your Snowflakes in a few weeks. Let me buy youa beer. You can repay me by introducing me to the local wildlife.”
T.J. mentally scratched his head. He and Money had neverhung out before, though he couldn’t say why. Why was the dude all friendly now?“Sure, though I gotta warn you, I’m not all thatfamiliar with the wildlife around here.”
“Ha. Yeah, right. So have you been following the standings?”
T.J. let out a mirthless laugh. “Of course I have. What elseam I gonna do with myself?”
“Well, I can think of a few things that involve being buriedin lots of tits and ass. Can’t think of a better way to help a man forget histroubles.” He paused to laugh. “Your new team’s not doing so hot, my man.”
“Thanks for that newsflash, asshole. I really needed youcalling me to tell me that. So besides your worthless offer of a beer, why thehell are you calling me?”
Money chortled. “Because I was worried about you, ofcourse.”
“Yeah, well your timing’s impeccable.”
“How so?”
“I just got word from my new coach that the arbiter issiding with the league. My suspension stands.”
A low whistle from the other end.“Fuck, that’s gotta hurt.”
T.J. heaved a huge sigh. “No surprise.” But it stillhurts like a mother. “Doesn’t matter anyway since the Blizzard has zerochance of making the playoffs.”
“Well, you really screwed the pooch when you put the hit onMay. Guy wasn’t even worth it.”
Was that scorn? Sarcasm? Whatever it was, it sent a joltthrough T.J. He’s laying all the blame for this cluster-fuck at mydoorstep?
Schooling his rising temper, T.J. casually said, “Hey,Money, about that. Let me ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“Coach Rogers told the assistant to tell me to mess May up,right?”
A long pause, followed by a throatclearing. “How would I know?”
“Because you were sitting right there. You heard him.You told me to ‘wreck the hoser.’” T.J. keptthe sound of his gritting teeth from his voice—a feat at which he wasaccomplished.
An awkward laugh. “Fuck, Shanny. No one has to tell you to wreck anyone. It’swhat you do. Like a switch flips on, and you’re on autopilot. Everybody knowsthat. You might wanna keep your hallucinations toyourself.” A female voice tee-heed in the background.“Hey, good talk, Shanny, but I gottago. See ya next month, man.”
“Right,” T.J. grumbled.
Seething thoughts racing back and forth, he punched the gas, Ford fighting for purchase in the passenger seat. T.J.backed off his road raging and began pondering. Had he imagined being told todestroy May? Coach Rogers had denied it from the beginning—vehemently. ButT.J. remembered it like it was unfolding right there in the driver’s seat. Hismemory, like the arena lights, was bright and clear. In his mind’s eye, he sawwhich players were on the ice, where the refs were positioned, and Money givinghis shoulder a shake. Who’d been next to him on the bench? Nelson.
Funny. They’d never discussed it. Not after the game, notwhen they traveled to Denver. But then, Nelson had been in trade shock. MaybeT.J. should have a chat with him.
T.J.’s focus sharpened on his surroundings, and he realizedhe was ten minutes from Spalding Rehab. An idea struck, and soon he was pullinginto the parking lot. He looked over at Ford. “What do you think of visitingsome folks who need cheering up? And there’s a basketball team I’d like you tomeet, if they’re here today. Think you can pull off behaving like you belong?” Thatapplies to both of us.
CHAPTER 13
Taking Care of Business
When morning came, Ford’s bed stillhadn’t been slept in, while T.J.’s was covered in dog hair. Paige and Katie’swords danced in his head, and he tried not to think about what a wuss he was as he towed the dog along on a distance run inthe crisp air. Ford’s stamina, his eagerness to match T.J.’s running rhythm,and his mostly civilized behavior at Spalding the day before helped T.J. overlook the sleeping situation. For now.
T.J. had been surprised their impromptu drop-in had beenwelcome at the rehab center. Patients and staff alike loved Ford,and he’d returned their attention with his overly zealous tongue. Of the NoExcuses! team, Wheelie Mark had been around—turns outthe guy volunteered there—and they’d spent the afternoon shooting the shit withconvalescents about sports and food—T.J.’s favorite subjects. He’d lost trackof the day, and when he’d finally left, night had fallen.
Now his mind wandered to seeing Natalie, hopeful Ford couldpass the “test.” He couldn’t see the dog staying alone at the condo. Bringinghim to work had, at best, been a one-time desperation move. Leaving Ford in theHummer for hours or with Serena and her expectations wasn’t going to fly. No, NatalieAmber Eyes was his best bet.
He laughed at himself. What had begun as a way to help hermight’ve been morphing into something T.J. needed too.
And he was finding he was okay with that.
.~* * * ~.
A while later,T.J. pulled up to Natalie’s house. “It’s showtime,Ford Fido Johnson. You ready?”
Apparently, Ford was. T.J. had installed a barrier and
