Page 106 of Forbidden Forward

I get it, and I nod. Then I lower an eyebrow. “For the record, I had him.”

“Like hell you did,” he scoffs.

“He was mine,” I insist.

“You were still talking,” Harper snorts.

I give his car a sidelong glance. “So how fast does she go?”

He laughs and launches into the minutiae of his Porsche’s performance. I nod along, contemplating the irony of the day. Ain’t it a hoot that Randy Grubbs is what it takes for Harps and I to be on the same side for once? The elation is short-lived, though, because I don’t have his sister on my side.

Chapter 47

Misguided Protector

Jackie

Donny’s at the arena doing his exit interview and wrapping up the final details of his season. After a disturbing message showed up on my phone, I sent him a warning text and left him a voicemail, but he hasn’t responded, so he must be deep in it. I turn from my worry about what might be coming and chop the veggies I’ve laid out on a cutting board for a celebratory meal tonight.

My phone rings. I dive for it and see that it’s not Donny; it’s a California area code. Do I answer? It could be Jeff calling from home with news on the Roscoe side. I wish it was Colby. How pathetic am I?

After three rings, I answer. “Hello?”

“Is this Jackie?” says a cheerful female voice. Whoever she is, I like her already, yet I hesitate for a beat before admitting who I am. She hurtles into the silence. “This is Lindsey Chase. Colby’s sister. I hope you don’t mind my calling.”

I practically fall onto a barstool. “N-not at all.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. I, um, think it’s time we met, even if it’s only over the phone. There are a few things I’d like to tell you about my thickheaded brother. Is this a good time?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“In case you’re wondering, I wheedled your number out of Peggy.” I’m a little disappointed Colby didn’t give it to her, though I can’t put a finger on exactly why. “Please don’t be mad at her.”

“I could never be mad at Peggy,” I laugh. Peggy is one of the kindest people I know. She’s also one of my biggest advocates as we sort out the demand letter mess.

“We’re both worried about Colby, so I told her I would reach out to you.”

Alarm blooms inside me. “What’s wrong with Colby? Is he hurt?”

“Not physically, though there are times I’d like to knock him into next week. Like now,” she trills.

I’m one part alarmed and one part amused. “W-what did he do?”

She counters my question with one of her own. “He disappeared from your life, didn’t he?” I open my mouth with no idea what to say, and nothing comes out. Lindsey sighs before continuing. “I thought so. I’m here to tell you it’s not you, and it’s not because he doesn’t care. He does care. Too much.”

The surprises just keep on coming. I sink lower in my seat and prepare myself for more. “He told you that?”

“He doesn’t have to. My big brother is as predictable as the size of a regulation hockey puck. It’s like this: He’s never been serious about anyone before. Other priorities always come first because they give him a nice protective shield to hide behind. You’ve witnessed one of those priorities for yourself.”

“The foundation, you mean?”

“Exactly.”

“But that’s a wonderful cause,” I protest.

“I completely agree. But when you limit your commitments to hockey and foundations, they become a way to keep everything and everyone else away. That’s what I mean by Colby using his priorities as a defense mechanism.”

“Against what?” I ask, astonished.