Hockey Holidays Read online

  “I think maybe the idea of having kids is a good way to go,” he said, sliding his hands up over her breasts.

  “Oh? Did you want to start now?” she asked.

  “Why not?” he replied.

  Chapter Six

  At sunup, Kitty snuggled down under the comforter and pressed up against Harry. He grunted.

  “Wow. You were an animal last night. Four times?” she asked.

  “Yep. Can’t score a goal takin’ only one shot,” he responded, snaking his arm around her middle and closing his eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, she inhaled his warm, sleepy scent. Well satisfied, she let her mind wander. How long after ditching the diaphragm would it take to get pregnant? Surprised that Harry had taken to the idea, Kitty sighed. Unsure whether her husband would trade hockey for their marriage, she’d been living with a ball of nerves in the middle of her gut.

  Unable to get back to sleep, she padded down to the kitchen. French toast occupied her thoughts, with a little ham on the side, maybe? As she cooked, baby names flitted through her mind. She hummed a favorite tune as she melted butter in the pan. The aroma of fresh coffee tempted her. She poured a mug, then added sugar and milk.

  When the meal was ready, she arranged it on a tray and headed for the stairs. This would be a good time to tell Harry of her plan. Her body hummed as she climbed, slowly, balancing the plates and mug.

  “Get up, Harry. Sleepyhead. Time to rise and shine.”

  He groaned. “I did too much rising last night. Can’t a guy sleep in on a day off?”

  She laughed. “French toast?”

  Harry cracked an eye. “Thought something smelled good, besides you.” He pushed up to a sitting position and grabbed a pillow for his lap. Kitty set the tray down gently.

  “Not to sound ungrateful, but is there a reason for this grand gesture?”

  “Just because I love my husband.” She perched on the end of the bed.

  Harry cocked an eyebrow. “Why am I thinkin’ there’s more to this than that?”

  “The gratitude of a satisfied woman?” she replied, raising her eyebrows.

  “Wipe that innocent look off your face. I’ve known you too long. What’s up?” he asked, taking a sip of the steaming brew, then picking up his fork.

  “Well, I have something to discuss with you. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Something bad?”

  She put her hand on his arm. “No, no. Something good, real good.”

  “Whew. Don’t do that. You scared me.” He cut a piece of the luscious toast.

  Kitty stared at him. Naked under the covers, with his chest exposed, he tempted her. She leaned toward him and rested her palm on his pecs.

  “More? Let me finish eating first.” He eyed the opening of her robe, revealing her breast.

  “Maybe in a bit. First, let me tell you what happened,” she said, following his gaze and closing her robe.

  “Damn. You cut off the view.”

  “Please eat and listen.”

  “Shoot.” He speared a piece of ham.

  “I got an offer for the gallery.”

  “What?”

  “Jefferson University approached me two months ago. First, they wanted to buy me out, but I refused.”

  “Buy you out? But why would you do that?”

  “I wouldn’t—at least not back then. Last week, they offered to partner with me. I’ve been thinking. Since you’re giving up hockey, I’d like to be here with you. So maybe I could partner with Jefferson in D. C. then, with the money I’d get from Jefferson, I’d start a branch here in West Hartford.”

  “How would the partnership work? How much time would you spend in D.C.?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t worked that out yet. But if we have kids—”

  “When we have kids,” he put in.

  “When we have kids, if I worked here, it would be easier. If you took the coaching job, we could tag team. You’d be home with the children in the morning. Then I could come home early and take them in the afternoon, while you’re coaching.”

  She held her breath. Harry’d never been easy with change. And now his whole life had been turned upside down. Could he cope? He put down his fork.

  “You’ve been thinking a lot about this.”

  “I talked to the doctor.”

  “When?”

  “A couple of months ago. Right around the time Jefferson approached me.”

  “Weren’t you going to tell me?”

  “It never seemed like the right time.”

  He nodded. “I see.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Just surprised. You never keep things from me.”

  “Not usually. We were both keeping it from each other.”

  Harry chuckled. “That’s it.”

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think you want me to take that coaching job.”

  “I do.”

  “I’m so proud of you. Imagine, the university wanting to muscle in on your operation.”

  “They’re not muscling in. They figure it would be a great place to show the work of their art students, and maybe even attract more and build up the department.”

  “That’s what they said?”

  “Yes. I had no idea my little place would draw their attention.”

  Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips. “You’re a star, Kitty. I’ve always said so.”

  She sensed color heating her cheeks.

  “I think the plan is brilliant,” he said.

  “You do?” Her heart took flight. “Really?”

  “I do,” he said, finishing off his meal.

  Kitty moved the tray and hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Harry grinned in the shower. He couldn’t believe he had the stuff to make love to his wife again after breakfast. Maybe he couldn’t play hockey anymore, but he could still score with Kitty.

  As he dressed for the reception at Veteran’s Memorial Arena, Buzzy’s words came back to him. “Think about somebody else for a change, instead of yourself.” His buddy shared wise words. Harry had become self-obsessed. Living with the sexiest, smartest, most beautiful woman in the world, he’d ignored her. What did his giving up hockey mean for Kitty? Of course, she’d have a plan. Kitty had been a planner from the day she was born. He chuckled.

  Harry opted to ride this out, sit back and let others chart the course. He’d learn how to let go and give the wheel to someone else—his wife, and maybe that guy, Buster Callahan. He thrust his legs into his good corduroy pants, pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over his head and plucked his sports jacket off the hanger.

  “Ready, Kitty?”

  “Almost,” she called from her vanity.

  While she applied makeup, Harry stuffed his wallet and keys into his pocket. She stood up, clad in an emerald green velour running suit. Her clear, porcelain skin shone, and her eyes sparkled.

  “I swear you are the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said.

  She kissed him. “Thank you. Ready?”

  He nodded and headed for the stairs. Emotion formed a lump in his throat, choking him. He tossed the car keys to his wife. The plows had cleaned the streets and a bit of sun melted what was left on the pavement. Kitty steered them safely on the twenty-minute trip.

  She took his hand as they walked to the front door. Once inside, a huge cheer went up from his teammates. They were on the ice, skating around the perimeter. There was a big cake in the center, on a table. The men sang, “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”

  The cake was cut and pieces passed around. The players, coaches, and trainers sat together on the sidelines, talking and eating. Kitty sat with Coach Timmons and Buster Callahan. Harry glanced up at her from time to time. Though he tried with everything in him to control his emotions, his eyes watered anyway. He found the handkerchief his wife had tucked into his jacket pocket.

  Buzzy and a few of h