Lucky Hit (Swift Hat-Trick Trilogy Book 1)
Lucky Hit: Chapter 23

I’m not usually someone who gets nervous, considering that I thrive under high-pressure situations, but this is not the type of situation I’m used to. Not by a long shot.

Despite my confidence when I met Ava’s family at the rink, I feel like I could kneel over and throw up the oatmeal I had for breakfast right on the Laytons’ stone driveaway.

I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’ve never brought a girl home to meet my family or made the time in my schedule to meet theirs. Dating has never been on my radar, but when it comes to Ava, it’s a flashing red light that’s impossible to ignore.

I’m falling for this girl, just like I was the first night I saw her with splotchy eyes and a broken heart. As far as I’m concerned, she’s mine to date, and I’m going to date the shit out of her. Dinners with her parents come hand in hand with that, just like they do with my family.

A faint tap on the window has me jumping in surprise, smacking the top of my head to the roof of the truck. With a thumping pulse, I focus on Ava as she stands outside the door, watching me with barely stifled humour.

I quickly turn the truck off, grab the flowers my mom insisted I bring from the passenger seat, lock the doors, and then join my girl outside.

“Were you planning on staying out here all night?” she teases.

The mischievous glint in her eyes seems to intensify as I curse myself. Apparently, I was sitting outside for longer than I thought.

I reach out and grab her by the hips, pulling her toward me. Vibrant green eyes fly up my body before getting caught in my stare. She places her palms flush to my chest and leans into me.

Dropping my voice, I say, “Maybe I was waiting for you to come get me.”

Her laugh sets off zips of electricity in my blood. “Ah, is that what you were doing?”

“No. But it makes me look like less of a chickenshit.”

“You’re not a chickenshit, Boy Scout. You’re not the first guy to be intimidated by my dad. But I swear, he’s just like a coconut.”

“A coconut?”

“You know, hard on the outside, gooey on the inside?”

“Does he know you refer to him as a coconut to the guys he’s trying to scare?”

“No. Are you going to tattle on me?” she asks coyly.

“Maybe. We’ll see.” I wink.

Toying with a loose curl blowing in the cold breeze, I take the opportunity to fully drink her in before we head inside.

She’s wearing a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans with rips below both front pockets and over the knees and a tight, mossy-green long-sleeve shirt that makes her eyes pop even more than usual.

The stray curl I can’t seem to leave alone isn’t one of a kind. It’s surrounded by so many more that I ache to wrap around my fist—

“You brought flowers?”

I clear my throat and shift on my feet in an attempt to release the pressure my jeans are creating on my new erection.

“Daisies,” I reply.

“Mom loves daisies. Come on.” She intertwines our fingers and starts to lead me up the driveway.

The Layton home is relatively large yet homey-looking and sits at the top of the driveway. The light brick and massive floor-to-ceiling windows make it look more modern than most houses in the neighbourhood. The lawn is neatly trimmed, despite the weather and time of year, and the cobblestone is illuminated by garden lights all the way up to the porch.

Once we step up the porch stairs and reach the front door, Ava turns to me. “You ready?”

“Almost.” Before she can speak, I’m kissing her. She releases a soft sound into my mouth when she pushes up on her toes and responds just as eagerly.

If I had it my way, I would kiss her every minute of every damn day, but a noise from inside the house reminds me where we are, and I reluctantly pull away.

Ava blinks slowly when she opens her eyes and smiles at me. “What about now?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

I have far too much food stacked on my plate, with a steak the size of my hand and more than a hearty selection of different salads. It’s not a surprise that Lily and Derek are two world-class chefs, but I think a career in grilling might be in Derek’s cards after all.

“This is the best steak I have ever had,” I blurt out while slicing through the perfectly cooked meat. It oozes juice, and my mouth waters.

Ava laughs beside me and pops a piece of bun into her mouth as Derek looks at me across the table and slowly sets down his bottle of beer.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re more than welcome to come for dinner anytime, Oakley,” Lily pipes up, flashing me a smile.

Ben shoves a forkful of pasta salad into his mouth before saying, “Yeah. It would be nice to have a guy around more.”

“You’re barely home as it is, Benjamin,” Lily sighs.

“I’m home as much as I can be. Ava knows how hard it is to make time, and she lives in the same province. I’m hours away.”

“I know. But I’m still allowed to miss you.” Lily starts to fiddle with her napkin, but a breath later, Derek is covering her hand with his and squeezing. His wife smiles lovingly at him.

“I miss you too,” Ben replies, and his girlfriend, Sydney, leans toward him and bumps his shoulder in what looks like an act of support.

“Let’s switch topics. Ava tells us you’re from Penticton. How are you liking Vancouver?” Lily asks me.

“It’s big. Bigger and busier than I’m used to, and it rains too much, but I think I actually like it.” I take a bite of steak and fight my eyes from rolling back at how good it tastes.

Ben laughs. “You should try living outside of BC sometime. I’m at university in Alberta, and it’s dry as hell. I actually miss the rain some days.”

“Oh, wow. Why Alberta?”

“Honestly? I picked a province out of a hat. All I knew was that I needed to experience something this place couldn’t give me.”

“Good for you, man. That takes guts.” I have a new appreciation for Ava’s brother.

“That’s our Benny boy.” Lily grins proudly. “Now, hockey is more Ben’s cup of tea, but we do watch a game every once in a while in this house. “Is hockey what you want to do for the rest of your life, Oakley?” Lily asks. Her genuine curiosity is refreshing.

“Absolutely. Hockey is something that I want to do professionally for as long as I can,” I reply.

“So your plan is the NHL?” Derek asks, his voice harder than I was expecting.

“Yes, sir. Quite a few teams have already approached me. It’s been my dream for as long as I remember,” I admit.

Derek leans closer to the table, his sharp stare unwavering.

I resist the urge to reach for the back of my neck.

“Have you and Ava discussed what will happen when you’re gone? You’re serious enough about my daughter to come back for her?”

I turn to look at Ava as her fork clatters on her plate. Flushed, she glares across the table. I rest my hand on her thigh and rub my thumb back and forth in an attempt to soothe her.

“I’m right here, Dad. You don’t have to ask about me as if I’m not. I can answer these questions too.”

“I can assure you that I’m very serious about your daughter. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.” My promise is for Ava just as much as it is for her dad.

Derek flicks his eyes to his angry daughter. “Are you ready for all of that?”

“All of what?” she asks, indignant.

“You know what.”

She bristles. “Why don’t you tell me and clarify? Because I know you’re not about to bring up what I think you are. Oakley’s not like that.”

I stiffen to stone. Fuck.

“That’s enough, Derek. Let it go,” Lily says gently.

Derek keeps his eyes on me, though, and my skin breaks out in a nervous sweat.

“All athletes are like that. David proved that to me,” Derek states.

My eyes fall shut as I sigh. Yeah, I saw that one coming.

“You deserve better than to be left behind while he travels the world doing God knows what. I thought you had already learned that lesson.”

When Ava’s breath hitches, I cut in, “With all due respect, you don’t really know what you’re talking about. I am not like David, nor do I have any interest in any woman but Ava. If I didn’t respect the hell out of her and her plans for the future, I would ask her to come with me wherever I end up going. Knowing that I’ll be away from her once I’m drafted is something that keeps me up at night,” I tell him, trying very hard to rein in my rising temper.

“Pretty words, Oakley. But we’re just supposed to trust you on that? I can’t believe what you say with blind faith,” he grunts.

“I’m not asking you to believe what I’m saying. The last thing I want to do is upset anyone, but if I’m being completely honest, I don’t care what you think. The only person whose opinion matters to me is Ava’s, and if she didn’t trust me, I wouldn’t be here with all of you right now.”

Lily stares at her husband, open-mouthed, as Sydney raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of her drink. Ava simply looks furious.

Derek opens his mouth to no doubt tell me to kiss his ass, but Ben cuts in before he has a chance to fire that final blow.

“Dad, just drop it. This isn’t what tonight is about.”

“Ben’s right. It isn’t. But if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be upstairs,” Ava growls.

She shoots up from the table and storms out of the room, dragging me with her and leaving our half-eaten meals behind, my steak included.

Her breaths come out as short, angry puffs as we ascend a grand spiral staircase. I don’t say a word the entire time, and neither does she.

I don’t blame her dad for asking those questions. Yes, they could have been phrased differently, but he’s a father at the end of the day, and I would have asked the same things if I were in his position. David isn’t someone I would ever want to be compared to, but Ava’s father doesn’t know me as more than a guy dating his daughter.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I think Ava and I can handle whatever comes after the draft, but does she think the same?

I swipe a hand over the back of my neck to wipe away the perspiration at the same time Ava comes to a stop at the end of the hallway.

“This is my room. Make yourself at home.” She pushes the white door in front of us open, and I hesitantly make my way inside.

Her room is exactly the opposite of her bedroom at the apartment. This one is clean and sleek, without a single thing out of place. The walls are painted a cool teal—matching her bedcovers—and every piece of furniture is white. A neat, tidy desk sits under the window, and there are two white doors on the opposite wall that must lead to a closet and bathroom.

My eyes track Ava as she crosses the room and flops onto her bed. With a groan, I sit down beside her on the edge of the bed and slowly rub her calf.

“Are you okay?”

“He’s not usually like that. I’m sorry,” Ava sighs, staring at the pictures and prize ribbons hanging on her wall, most of which come from elementary school spelling bees. Cute. “I don’t know what his deal is.”

“Don’t apologize. I can handle an overprotective father.”

She hums and, after a few moments of silence, whispers, “Do you ever worry about what could happen with us?”

My lips part, but I say nothing. The last thing I want is for Ava to start doubting this—to start doubting us.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to be gone most of the time, and I’m just going to be . . . well, here. Hockey is the only thing keeping you in Vancouver. What happens when you aren’t here anymore?” The slight wobble in her voice has my chest aching.

“Come here,” I plead, my arm held outstretched. Slowly, she sits up and crawls toward me, moving to sit on my lap. She tucks her face into my neck and wraps her arms tightly around me. “You’re insane if you think hockey is the only thing I have here.”

She draws in a shaky breath and nods as she leans into me, sighing. I rub my arm up and down her back.

“Besides, the odds of me being drafted somewhere really far are slim with how the NHL season is playing out. But I can promise you right now that no amount of distance will change anything for me. I know that already.”

Ava nods again, and a sudden feeling of desperation for her to believe everything I’ve said has me blurting out, “Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask you to come home with me for Christmas?”

Her breath hitches, and I almost tell her to forget I said anything before she kisses my throat and says, “No. Would it be presumptuous of me to say yes?”

“Fuck no.” I palm the back of her head and kiss her, hoping that she’s half as obsessed with me as I am with her. Because if she is, distance doesn’t stand a goddamn chance.