Hockey Holidays Read online

  She shouldn’t, but both the man and the dog stared at her with pleading eyes before Peanut buried her head under Erik’s hand.

  “Erik.”

  “I won’t let her down. I promise.”

  There was something in the way he said the words that broke Andie’s resolve. Taking care of this little dog was important to him and maybe he was even trying to prove something to himself.

  “On one condition.” She pointed her finger at him. “If you decide she’s too much or you can’t take care of her, you call me. Do not bring her to whatever shelter your phone tells you is the closest.”

  “I promise.” He grinned. “I’ll call you.”

  And he did, hours later and just as she was getting ready to leave the clinic. But he wasn’t trying to offload Peanut. He was trying to shop for her.

  “I looked online, but there’s so much, Andie. And I don’t know what sizes and what’s safe and…I need your help. Please go shopping with me, and then I won’t ask you for anything else.”

  Why did she have such a hard time saying no to this man?

  Chapter Three

  “She probably doesn’t even like hockey.”

  Erik crossed his arms and looked at the pile he’d just deposited in his shopping cart. Okay, maybe it was a bit much, but Andie didn’t know Peanut any better than she did. “She’s Erik Burke’s dog, so of course she likes hockey.”

  “If you start referring to yourself in the third person, I’m walking out right now.”

  He laughed, even though he knew she was serious. Then he held up the little doggie dress with the Marauders logo emblazoned on it in rhinestones. “Do you think this will fit her?”

  “That is ridiculous.”

  “You’re the one who brought me to a pet store with Marauders gear. I had no idea they made so much hockey stuff for dogs.”

  “First, the hockey stuff is for the owners, not the dogs. Second, you didn’t know that because you don’t actually have a dog. And third, I’m a little concerned about her swallowing any of that bling.”

  He scowled at the dozens of tiny pieces of plastic and put it back. “What about one of these purse things?”

  The idea of Erik carrying Peanut around in a purse made her laugh out loud. He frowned, obviously confused, and she laughed even harder.

  “Don’t dogs like Peanut like being carried around in bags?”

  Somehow she managed to get herself under control. “The only bag you carry is a hockey bag and as a veterinarian, I can tell you the stench would make her very ill.”

  “She liked my sweatshirt when I put it on the seat for her to curl up on last night.”

  “She was hungry, cold and alone, but I bet she still thought twice before touching it.”

  He laughed as they moved on down the aisle, without the dog purse. He’d always loved her laugh. Her looks and the way she carried herself had caught his attention at the small deli he liked to frequent on his very infrequent cheat days, but it was her laugh that had made him approach her. Being with her felt so right—so normal—that he could almost forget they’d spent the last year apart.

  Almost.

  “What are you planning to do with Peanut when you’re not home?” She asked when they hit an aisle that looked dedicated to keeping animals contained in yards. Then she turned her head to look at him, her dark gaze locking with his. “Actually, where is she right now?”

  “If I’d known she was allowed in this store, I would have brought her. Right now she’s closed in my bedroom.” When her eyebrow arched, he shrugged. “I know, it’s not perfect, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. I took her out, and then I put food and water down for her. I closed the door to the bathroom because I don’t think she’s big enough to get up on the toilet, but I didn’t want her to fall in. And I don’t have a bed for her yet, so I dragged my comforter onto the floor and made her a nest. I thought, because it smells like me, she’d probably be okay until I get home.”

  Her expression was so soft and inviting when he finished speaking, he almost leaned down and kissed her. But then her lips tightened and she shook her head. “Damn you, Erik Burke.”

  “Shit. You don’t think she’ll get wrapped up in the blanket, do you? She’s so tiny and—”

  “It’s not the dog, Erik,” she snapped, and then she started walking fast, past things he was pretty sure were on the list she’d given him.

  “Andie, wait.” He caught her elbow and spun her around to face him. “What just happened?”

  “What happened is that you’re being so sweet and adorable and it makes me forget you’re not capable of letting anybody into your life.” She snorted. “A dog, I guess. For now. But not a woman who loved you.”

  As stupid as it was, since they’d been broken up for a year, hearing her say she’d loved him in the past tense hurt more than the nasty check from Lecroix in the last game of the season two years before. “I’m sorry I’m being adorable.”

  He watched the battle on her face and then rejoiced when whatever part of her trying to resist him lost the fight and she laughed. “You should be.”

  “It just comes naturally to hockey players. We can’t help it.”

  She rolled her eyes and waved a hand at all the things she’d just speed-walked past. “Do you need yard stuff for her?”

  “I don’t think so. She doesn’t go outside unattended at all and never goes more than a few feet from me. And the girl who’s probably going to be stopping in to take her out and visit with her when I’m not home isn’t going to just stick her outside, either.”

  By the time they’d gone up and down the aisles, buying everything Peanut needed as well as a few really cute things she didn’t, Erik was starving. It was well past dinner time and he needed to eat.

  He thought about it while Andie helped him load his purchases into his car. She needed to eat, too. And she’d done him a huge favor. Even without the way her body stretched as she reached into his trunk and the ache of his body remembering how good hers felt under him, it would be rude not to offer to feed her.

  “Where do you want to eat?” he asked, and then inwardly winced at the lack of smoothness in his game at the moment.

  “What?” She actually looked startled by the question.

  “I’m starving. And you have to let me buy you dinner after all this.”

  He hated watching her emotions play over her face, but he forced himself to be quiet and wait. If she didn’t want to have dinner with him, he’d have to accept that, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet. “Just as a thank you. Please, Andie.”

  Andie should run. She should turn around and run to her car, drive home and then eat a gallon of ice cream while forcing herself to relive every painful detail of their breakup. And then she should make a note in Peanut’s file that she was Chelsea’s patient exclusively and never, ever see Erik again. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d turned her life upside down again and if she had dinner with him, it was only going to get worse.

  Her head was telling her no was definitely the right move. But her heart—and points south—wanted more Erik. And then her traitorous stomach, neglected since the danish that morning, growled and she knew she was sunk.

  “I could eat,” she admitted, since the twitch at the corners of his mouth let her know her hunger hadn’t gone unnoticed. “No place fancy, though. You don’t need to show off for me. I just want food.”

  “I don’t show off,” he grumbled.

  She nodded her head toward the very expensive car attached to the door he held open for her to make her point, but then didn’t get in. “I should just follow you wherever we’re going.”

  He hesitated for a few seconds before closing the door. “There’s a place up the street that’s got great pasta. We could walk there.”

  She knew it was his way of respecting her wishes not to ride together while also not taking separate vehicles, but she also knew the restaurant he was talking about and it did have damn good pasta. “Sounds g