Shifter Grove had.
It was stocked to the rafters with hockey players and fans, the evening a free-for-all and most of the players getting to constantly shake hands and share drinks with well-meaning viewers. It was a bit of a tradition, this after-game party, and Cannon had always been an enthusiastic attendant, but this time, his heart just wasn’t in it.
Taking another sip of his beer, he stood up with a sigh as the liquid tasted little better than ash, stretching his legs as he put some distance between himself and the long table of arguing hockey jocks. He walked to the bar and dropped one elbow on it, surveying the surroundings, his blue eyes searching for any sign of the woman who’d driven him nuts for years and years, and was probably the sole reason the Shovelers had won that day. It was impossible not to be at one’s best when a bear saw his mate for the first time in years.
It had been a gamble, giving her space after their scorching-hot kiss, but it had seemed like the right thing to do. Cannon already knew that there weren’t going to be any flights out and there wasn’t exactly a car rental business in Shifter Grove. Unless Kimberley had decided to jack a car from some unsuspecting shifter, she’d be stuck in town for at least one night.
No smart hockey PR rep missed out on an evening with two title-worthy teams, where guys tended to be just a little liquored up and eager to spill juicy tidbits made for tweets. But Kimberley was nowhere to be found.
Does she really hate me that fucking much? Cannon wondered to himself, finally pushing himself off the bar before anyone spotted him and tried to have a chat.
He wasn’t a smoker, but he grabbed his leather jacket on the way out and stepped into the crisp evening air, the sun having set hours ago but the pristine white snow that kept falling almost endlessly in Idaho that time of year making the surroundings bright enough. He heaved in a breath, letting it out in a sigh as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
Cannon idly looked around, but the first glance to the right had him doing a double take. There she was. Kimberley Thomas in all her glory, a heavy workout bag slung over her shoulder and the satchel across her body, looking morosely annoyed with anything and everything. But mostly the sight of Cannon Wright.
“I thought you’d left,” Cannon said with a placating smile, taking a step closer to her.
“Oh did you?” Kimberley asked, cocking a brow at him. “With all the options one has of getting out of his godforsaken little dump!”
She was so damn cute when she was upset. Cannon had to put some real effort into not grinning, stopping a reasonable distance from her so she wouldn’t feel the need to run again. Knowing her long legs, he wouldn’t put it past her to hike it all the way back to Idaho Falls to catch an actual plane out of here.
“It’s a little backwater, sure, but it grows on you,” he offered with a shrug, having found himself more and more enamored with the wide open spaces, the fresh air, and the fantastic mountains.
It was just the right combination of serene and homey, while providing an adrenaline junkie like Cannon plenty of opportunities to snowboard, mountain climb, and generally be a fool whenever he wasn’t in practice. Which really wasn’t that often, to tell the truth.
“Like a fungus?” Kimberley queried, but there wasn’t any spite in her words, not really.
There might have even been a tiny smile, though it was so faint that Cannon would have had to squint to make it out and he figured she was done with his teasing one way or another. He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture, shrugging his shoulders.
“Maybe,” he offered. “Look, I know you’re pissed, Kimberley. Can I buy you a beer, tell you why I did what I did? Maybe we can grab a bite or something. You have to be starving. You look like you’ve been dragging that thing around all day,” he said, pointing at the bag that was weighing