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ROYAL ICING
PINKY COCKBURN
FLAMING PARCHMENT MEDIA
 CONTENTS

About this book

Also by Pinky Cockburn

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue

New York Storm Series

Acknowledgments
About the Author
 ABOUT THIS BOOK

He’s used to having control on the ice—and in the bedroom.

But when his teammate’s sister comes into play, he might
lose control of his heart.

When I agreed to go to my twin brother’s very first NHL game, I was

prepared for the frigid temperature, overwhelming noise, and numb
ass—a childhood of being dragged from one arena to another will do
that for you.
I was even prepared for my brother to be injured.
However, I was not prepared for the gruff, bossy, sexy-as-sin
teammate of his who showed up at the hospital.
And I was definitely not prepared for my inappropriate reaction
when he took charge.

Royal Icing is a standalone instalove romance with a guaranteed

happy ending between a Domly professional hockey player and a
subby librarian.

CLICK TO JOIN MY MAILING LIST

ALSO BY PINKY COCKBURN

A Christmas Carnal
Carnal Nights
Carnal Licks
 1

Royal
W hen I walk into the locker room, the tall, rangy rookie is staring
intently at the screen of his tablet. He’s already dressed—can’t
blame him for being keen. Gordie Ingram got called up to The Show
just two days ago, and tonight is his first game.
He’d been one of those young hotshot players everyone expected
to get picked up early and shoot straight to stardom. Instead, for
whatever reason, he languished in the junior leagues for years.
“What are you watching?” I ask when I see his face light up.
Of course, every smart-ass in the room has an answer:
“Porn.”
“How to play hockey videos.”
“Downton Abbey.”
Gordie isn’t fazed by any of it. He just grins from ear to ear and
says, “My sister is here. They just panned over the crowd, and she’s
here.”
“Big deal for you?”
“She hates hockey. I can’t blame her—she spent her entire
childhood in the shadow of it. So for her to agree to sit through my
first NHL game…Yeah, that’s a huge deal for me.”
He grins again and turns his tablet so I can see, then points to
someone on the screen. “That’s her. Wearing my jersey.” The pure
joy that radiates off him as he tells me is infectious.
 The woman he’s pointing to is sexy as fuck, with long, dark wavy
hair that would look amazing wrapped around my fist, and—“Jesus
Ingram, she’s wearing your jersey and you put your sister in with the
wives and girlfriends?”
“Shit. Is that where she is? I told them the ticket was for my
sister.”
Of course, he wouldn’t know.
Not the worst prank he’s likely to experience, but it was a bit
shitty of whoever pulled it to involve his sister. I make a mental note
to find out who was responsible and let them know that family is off
limits when it comes to ribbing the rookies.
“Don’t worry about it. She’s sitting next to Santucci’s wife, Clare.
She’ll make sure your sister has a good time.”
He shakes his head. “Bobbie is not going to be happy to find out
she’s sitting with the WAGs.”
“Bobbie? Your sister’s name is Bobbie? Gordie and Bobbie? As in
Howe and Orr?”
“Yeah, names were picked out before we were born. Dad was so
sure we would both be boys and he wanted to name us after great
players.” Gordie shrugs and gives me a lopsided grin. “No idea what
he’d have done if we’d both been girls.”
I shudder to think.
 2

Bobbie
I swore I would never set foot in another hockey arena as long as I
lived. Yet here I am, at The Summit—home ice to the New York
Storm.
From the minute my twin brother could stand up on a pair of
hockey skates, my dad dragged me along to every practice, game,
and tournament where I froze my ass off until I was old enough to
stay home alone.
The only thing that kept me from dying of boredom all those
years was my love of reading. Books carried me away from the frigid
discomfort of the hockey arena.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to pull my current read out of my
bag right now and disappear into another world.
But, this is my brother’s very first NHL game. It took a lot longer
than any of us expected, but he’s here, and I owe it to him to
actually watch his game, not spend it with my nose buried in a book.
Hell, I’m even wearing a black and silver New York Storm jersey
bearing his name and number. I’m impressed that they had any
ready to buy so soon.
“You must be the new kid’s girlfriend,” a very pregnant redhead
says as she gives me the once-over before sitting down next to me.
Great. I’m stuck sitting with the wives and girlfriends, and I may
never forgive Gordie for this. This game is being televised, and the
last thing I need is to get mistaken as my brother’s girlfriend further
afield.
“No, I’m his sister.”
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry for the assumption. It’s just—”
“No worries. I get it.” And I do. All things considered, it’s not an
unreasonable conclusion to come to.
“I’m Clare. I’m married to Jake Santucci. Number forty-three.”
“I’m Bobbie.”
“You must be so excited.”
“Yes, I am.” It’s not a complete lie. I’m excited for Gordie, but
that’s where it ends.
Until he’s announced and hits the ice.
Then I admit to a thrill I didn’t expect. My baby brother—hey,
when it comes to twins, every minute counts—a legit NHL player.
Living his dream. At least I hope it’s his dream. He never really had a
chance to explore anything else. Dream or not, he’s reached top tier,
and I hope that’s where he spends the rest of his career.
The next player to come onto the ice is even taller than my
brother. As he skates past, he looks straight at me, and there’s
something in his gaze that…clicks is the only way I can think to
describe it. It catches me so off-guard, I almost miss my brother tap
the side of his helmet. His way of saying hi to me from the ice.
“Royal Nash.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I turn to look at Clare.
“That hunk of sex on skates you’re practically drooling over is
Royal Nash. He’s one of those great to look at, great to fuck— so
I’ve heard—but don’t get attached because he’s not the settling
down type. And you look to be very much the settling down type.”
I can feel the heat of embarrassment work its way from my neck
to the tips of my ears. I’m not sure why. Is it because I was caught
perving over this guy, or because I’m so easily read?
“Good to know,” I manage.
It’s been a long time since I last saw my brother on the ice.
Probably our teens. He looks good out there. He’s nervous, but I’m
willing to bet I’m the only one in the entire building who can sense
it.
 It’s weird how some things, no matter how long you’ve been
away, never really leave you.
The second the puck drops, I’m silently backseat coaching. I may
have spent years with my nose in a book while he played hockey,
but that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn almost as much as he did.
My heart thumps wildly at the first shift change. My brother and
Royal leap to the ice, and I have to admit, they have a chemistry
that would make you think they’d been playing together for years,
not days.
I’m still processing the beauty of their movements when Gordie is
cross-checked into the boards, bounces off, and lands on the ice.
He’s slow to get up and unsteady on his skates as he’s guided out of
the arena. I jump to my feet but have no idea where to go.
Clare lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Come with me,” she
says as she leads me out of our row.
I’d seen Gordie get hit before. Lots of times. But nothing in all
my years as a hockey sibling prepared me for him taking an NHL hit.
And a dirty one at that.
“She’s Ingram’s sister,” Clare says, pre-empting any objection the
security guard may have to me walking through the door.
“Just a heads up. It’ll probably look worse than it is.”
As much as I want those words to be true, I won’t believe it until
I see my brother.
“Doc, this is his sister, Bobbie,” Clare says as we approach an
open door.
“We’re just waiting on the ambulance.” Ambulance means
hospital. And hospital means this could be really bad. It also means
he’ll be in the best place to fix anything really bad.
“Come on in, he’s been asking for you.” The man Clare called Doc
motions us in.
Gordie actually looks really good. Not a mark on his face. I guess
that’s thanks to the visor he has the wisdom to wear.
“Hey Sis. I kinda got my bell rung a bit. Nothing to worry about,
though.” His speech is a little slurred and I’m reminded that looks
can be deceiving.
 I sit in the chair next to the gurney he’s lying on and take his
hand.
I guess it’s been a while,” he says as he gives my hand a
squeeze.
“It has,” I agree. Three years. Dad’s funeral. I shake off the guilt
for not making an effort to see him. It took years and a lot of
therapy, but I learned that I don’t have to be the one to do all the
work to maintain a relationship.
I’m glad you came. I’m even gladder that you’re wearing my
jersey.”
“Someone had to. Turns out I bought the very first one. And I’m
willing to bet it won’t be long before they have trouble keeping them
in stock.”
“Not if I can’t last even one whole shift on the ice.”
“You looked good out there. Dad would have been proud.”
“What about you, B? Were you proud?”
“My chest was bursting with pride. Bursting.”
He gives me that goofy grin of his, and for a second I almost
believe he’s going to be just fine. Almost.
Clare touches my arm and I turn my attention to her. “Bobbie,
are you going to be okay here on your own, or do you need me to
stay with you?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” And I will. I’m a lot calmer than I was now
that I’ve had a chance to see and talk to him.
“In that case, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to
unlock your phone, and I’m going to put my number in it. Navigating
the NHL as a family member can be…complicated and frustrating. So
you call me if you need any help, or a friendly ear. Okay?”
I nod. This much I can do. Because I won’t need her. I only
committed to this one game, not Gordie’s entire career. I have to
admit, it feels nice to have someone offer their help so freely.
Especially when that someone gives off a real aura of sincerity.
“I won’t tell you not to worry, because of course you will. What I
can tell you is he’s going to get the best care in the world.”
She holds out her hand, palm up. I fish my phone out of my bag
and hand it to her, unlocked.
 After a few seconds of fingers flying over the display, her phone
alerts. “There, now I have your number and can check in on you
because I’m betting you have no intention of calling me.”
Sneaky. “Thank you.”
She pulls me in for a big hug, and she snorts a laugh at my
surprise as something solid pokes from her belly against mine.
“Please excuse Junior, we’re still working on manners.”
And for the first time since Gordie took that awful hit, I can
breathe.
 3

Bobbie
“G ordie I ngram . Where the fuck is he?”
The booming voice pulls my attention away from my book. I look
up to see Royal Nash accosting the ER waiting room clerk at the
main desk.
“Are you a family member?” she asks.
“Close enough.”
Wait, what?
“Close enough to isn’t going to cut it, young man. You can take a
seat in the waiting room with his sister. And maybe if you ask her
politely, she’ll give you an update.”
“Thank you. I will. I’m sorry for the attitude. I didn’t realize his
sister was here, and well…”
“You’re forgiven. But maybe work on redirecting your worry more
appropriately in future.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
Wow. I have to admit, it was kind of hot—in a really
inappropriate way—to see this towering hulk of a man publicly show
his ass out of worry, and then back right down after being scolded
by this tiny bird of a woman who looks to be old enough to be my
grandmother.
He turns and scans the crowded waiting room before his gaze
fixes on me.
 Shit.
Those ice-blue eyes, even from the other side of the room, are
intimidating as fuck. It only takes him a few long strides to reach
me. There aren’t any empty seats, so he crouches down on his
haunches.
“Bobbie, I’m Roy Nash. I’m sorry we’re meeting under these
circumstances. Can you give me an update, please?”
“They took him for a CT scan about fifteen minutes ago. And we
wait.”
He places a hand on my knee. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d
swear there was a spark. “I’m sorry you’re having a rough night. I’m
going to grab us both some coffee. How do you take it?”
“One cream, please.”
A few minutes later, he returns with two paper cups. “Here,” he
says as he hands one to me. I take a sip of the hot, surprisingly
good coffee.
“How are you doing?”
I shrug.
“Words, please.”
“As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”
“Which isn’t very good, is it?”
“Not really. And waiting doesn’t help.”
“It never does. Gordie told me you’re a librarian.”
“I am.”
“Your whole face lit up just then. Just like Gordie’s did when he
saw you in the stands at the game tonight.”
“His face lit up?”
“I may have only known him a couple of days, but damn, he was
beyond thrilled that you came. I know he was concerned you’d say
no.”
“There’s no way I could have let him have no family cheering for
him in the stands for his NHL debut. I’ll admit to a selfish bit of me
that didn’t want to come, but even that part of me is glad I did.”
Then the desk clerk catches my attention and crooks her finger.
I jump up, nearly splashing coffee on Roy as I rush past.
 “They’ve taken your brother up to room three-twenty-seven in
the West Tower. They’ll give you an update on his condition there.”
She looks up and over my shoulder. “And you, take good care of this
one.”
“Yes, ma’am. Come on, Bobbie. I know the way. Been here a
time or two.”
I don’t ask in what capacity. I just let him guide me through the
hospital.

“W e ’ re here for G ordie I ngram ,” he tells the person at the nurses’

station when we arrive on the ward. I should be annoyed that Roy
seems to have taken over, but I’m grateful. This is all so
overwhelming and I’m willing to bet he’s got more experience in
dealing with medical personnel than I do.
“Family?”
“Yes.” He gestures toward me. “This is his sister, Bobbie Ingram.”
“If you’ll just take a seat in the visitor’s room at the end of the
hall, I’ll get the doctor to come and talk with you as soon as she’s
available.”
We sit and wait for what feels like forever, but the clock on the
wall says six minutes, before the doctor arrives.
“Ms Ingram, I’m Doctor Wanda St. James. Gordie’s neck and
spine look good. We’re keeping him here tonight for observation.
We’ll reassess tomorrow after more testing. You can see him. But it
would be better to keep your visit short, then you should go home
and get some rest, too.”
She can’t expect me to just pop in to say hello and then just
leave. What if something terrible—more terrible—happens while I’m
not there? I open my mouth, ready to argue, when Roy lays his
hand on my shoulder. “We will. Thank you.”
“You don’t speak for me,” I whisper.
“Right now, I’m speaking for your brother. Gordie needs sleep,
and that’s hard to do when you have someone wide awake in your
space. Honey, I know you don’t want to leave him, but you’re going
to have to. And if you think about it, you know what the best thing
to do for both of you is.”
I don’t like it, but he’s right.
“That was one hell of a debut,” Roy quips as we walk into
Gordie’s private room.
He looks exhausted, but manages a grin, and I consider that a
really good sign. “Yeah. Well, it didn’t occur to me that Ian Melnyk
would hold a grudge from back when we were fourteen.”
“Wait, Ian Melnyk who played for the Huskies? That Ian Melnyk?”
I ask, horrified. That little piss-ant from a rival team lost his shit
more than a decade ago because some girl wanted Gordie instead of
him.
“Yeah.”
“We can talk about this another time,” Roy interjects. “Bobbie
and I just wanted to peek in real quick and check in before you get
settled in for the night. We’ll be back in the morning.”
As soon as we’re out of his room, Roy pulls me into his arms, and
I sag against him, accepting the comfort he offers. For the first time
since that awful moment when Gordie slammed into the boards and
dropped to the ice, I let myself feel hope.
 4

Royal
D on ’ t get hard . Don’t get hard.
Do. Not. Get. Hard.
Here I am, for once in my life, trying to do the right thing. And
my traitorous dick doesn’t care.
I try shifting my hips slightly, so she won’t feel my out-of-control
hard-on without being obvious.
And fail.
She shifts, too. Then goes completely still.
“Sorry, adrenaline reaction,” I tell her. It’s not a completely bogus
excuse. Post-game adrenaline does turn me into a raging horn-dog.
But right here, right now, this is all for Gordie’s sister.
And that absolutely cannot happen.
I like the kid, and there’s no way I’m going to mess things up
between us by fucking his sister.
Except now she’s shifted closer, and—
I ease back and tip her chin up. “Bobbie, I’ve only got so much
self-control, and I’m pretty close to pegging on the E here. Right
now, what we’ve got are some mixed signals, and we need to get
them straightened out right quick. If what you really need is
comfort, then you tell me that and I’ll hold you all night and nothing
else. If you want me to fuck you, be warned, I’m a kinky bastard
with a dominant streak that edges into the sadistic. Sex with me
isn’t over until you safeword or your ass is sore and you can’t walk
straight. Tell me that’s what you want, and I’ll take you home and do
exactly that.”
“Does it have to be either or?”
She’s killing me here. I tried to scare her off—okay, if I’m honest,
I was feeling her out—and instead of making this easy for me to be
the good guy, she’s got me mentally twirling my silent movie villain
mustache.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Then may I have both, please?”
I fight the urge to indulge my inner caveman by throwing her
over my shoulder and heading for the nearest empty room with a
lockable door. Instead, I take a deep breath. “If that’s what you
really want. We’ll discuss this in more detail at my place.”
“Okay.”
And with that, I lead her by the hand to the exit and into the car
I’ve got waiting.
 5

Bobbie
I can ’ t believe Roy just took over like that. And damn it, for the first
time in my life I felt like I was being cared for, instead of being the
one who does all the emotional work.
The whole ride to his place, he whispers into my ear all the filthy
things he’s going to make me do. And there’s a small part of me that
feels like some kind of slut for going home with with a guy I’ve only
just met so he can fuck me into oblivion.
But I need the distraction from the crippling worry, so I push all
the bullshit aside and let his dirty words work their magic on my
body.
I’m so wet, I think he could bend me over and slam into me
without needing to prepare me at all.
“You’re going to take my cock all the way inside your tiny little
asshole. I meant what I said about not being done until your ass is
sore and you can’t walk straight.”
Okay. I’ve done anal before, but I’ve felt what he’s got going on
in his jeans, and I’m going to need a lot of prep for that.
We swap test results—yay for phone health apps—and since
neither of us has had sex since these results and I get my shot
regularly, we agree to skip condoms.
A s soon as the door to his apartment shuts, he cups my cheek, leans
down, and touches his lips to mine. He’s so much gentler than I
anticipated. Especially after everything he’s said about what sex
would be like with him.
His tongue slides between my lips. I meet it with my own and his
groan goes straight to my pussy. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling
it just hard enough to make my scalp tingle. He devours me with his
mouth and my knees are close to buckling.
When he breaks the kiss, I look up at him. There’s something
feral in his eyes that I know should scare me. Instead, I just feel
beautiful and desirable. Wanted. Perfect.
“You have the sexiest lips. And I’m going to have them on my
dick before we’re done, but right now I want to taste that sweet
little cunt of yours before I fuck it. Now be a good girl. Get naked
and bend over the back of the sofa with your legs spread.”
Holy shit.
I strip as fast as I can, enjoying the way he leers at me while he
does the same.
Once I’m in position, he sits between my legs with his back
against the sofa and spreads me wide open.
“So pretty.”
His lips latch onto my clit and he slides a finger through my
wetness and up to my little puckered hole, circling it before
gathering more, this time, gently pressing the tip if his finger in.
My hips have a mind of their own, rocking forward in search of
more sweet suckling of my clit and back for more finger in my ass.
Roy pumps two fingers deep inside my pussy and the orgasm comes
out of nowhere. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and the scream
is uncontrollable.
Roy doesn’t let up until he’s wrung every last spasm from my
body.
“That was hot as fuck. But I think you earned a spanking for
coming without permission.”
“What?”
“Permission. I did tell you on the way over that you must ask
permission before you come.”
 “But that’s not fair. It just—”
“No excuses. Take your punishment like a good girl.”
“Yes, Daddy.” It just slips out and when he doesn’t laugh at me, I
relax.
He rubs his hand over my whole ass before the first strike hits on
one cheek. It stings, but in a good way. The kind that sends zings to
my pussy. The second smack lands on the other cheek. A little
harder, but just as hot. I take a chance and wiggle my bum.
“A certain little girl might want to be careful about how much she
teases her Daddy when she’s being punished.”
I wiggle my bum again.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
I turn my head and watch him disappear down a hallway.
A minute or so later, he comes back carrying a sealed package of
something. I wiggle my bum again.
“You were warned about teasing your Daddy.” He holds up a little
clamp. “Use your safeword if you need to.”
A second later, my clit is on fire. There is no holding back the
scream, and I think quite seriously about using my safeword. But the
pain settles down to an ache. Until Daddy resumes my spanking.
Each swat makes the clamp swing, which adds another layer of
ouch.
And why don’t I safeword?
Because my brain has short-circuited, the pain feels good, and I
can feel another orgasm edging ever closer. “Daddy, please may I
come?”
“Not yet.”
“Please, Daddy,” I beg. “I don’t think I can make it stop.”
With one hand on my hip, holding me in place, he positions the
tip of his cock at my entrance and drives into me hard enough to
scoot the sofa forward.
“Daddy.” I’m almost sobbing now. His hard thrusts keep the
clamp on my clit in motion, and all I want to do in this life is come.
“Now,” he growls in my ear. He releases the clamp as he fucks
me hard and fast. The fresh pain in my clit hits along with my
orgasm, and my whole world explodes into sound and color and
relief. Daddy’s fingers find my clit and he rubs it furiously.
“Again. Be Daddy’s good girl and come again before I fill you up
with my come.”
By the time he finally does fill me up, he’s made me come twice
more and I’m nothing more than a rag-doll draped over the back of
the sofa.
 6

Royal
I’ ve been called Daddy before. And by kinkier women than Bobbie
Ingram. But damn, from her lips, it was like she wasn’t playing.
And that’s a first.
I know I have a reputation. But being with a variety of women is
the only way I’m going to be able to figure out when I’m with the
right one.
Sure, I’ve heard there’s as much chance of finding The One as
there is of finding a unicorn or a pot of gold at the end of the
rainbow. But that hasn’t kept me from believing that miracles
happen. Not that I’ve ever even come close to one.
This thing with Bobbie feels different, though. A good kind of
different.
I gaze at the perfect, naked woman lying next to me, and I can’t
resist kissing those sweet little nipples.
She stirs as my lips cover one. “Daddy?”
“Yes or no, little one?” I ask.
“Yes, please. I can still walk, and my bum isn’t all that sore.”
“Cheeky imp. I have a better use for that saucy little mouth.”
Tangling my fingers in her hair, I guide her toward my growing
erection. “Be a good girl and make Daddy’s cock all hard and ready
to fuck your tight little asshole.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
 She flicks her tongue out and licks along the slit before swirling it
around the head.
“Suck it, you naughty little tease. Take it as deep as you can and
suck.”
Her warm, wet mouth covers the head of my dick, and the sweet
suction has me holding her in place and pumping my hips.
“Bang on my leg if you need me to let go, baby.”
I push up until I hit the back of her throat, and she starts to gag.
“Suck against it, baby. Be Daddy’s good girl and take what he
gives you.”
I fuck her mouth for only a few thrusts. Enough to be sure of her
submission, but not enough to push her too far. One day, I’d love to
bury my dick all the way down that throat and fuck it. But she’s not
ready, and I’d promised her a sore ass before we’re done.
“On your back. Pull your knees to your chest and spread them
wide. Daddy wants to be able to suck on those delicious little nipples
while he fucks your ass.
I grab lube from the nightstand drawer and slather it all over my
dick before pressing one slippery finger against her back entrance. It
slips in fairly easily, and after pumping it in and out of her, I add a
second finger, and eventually a third.
“Such a good girl. Are you ready for Daddy to fuck your little hole
with his cock, now?”
 7

Bobbie
I f there ’ s one thing I learned about Roy last night, it’s that he’s a
man of his word.
My ass—in addition to a few other places—is deliciously sore, and
I think walking straight may require some concentration.
When I check the clock, I’m surprised to see that it’s just after
seven. I hadn’t expected to sleep at all, let alone for nearly five
hours.
And then I feel guilty. I got to enjoy five hours of sleep on top of
what was probably the best sex of my life, while my twin is injured
and alone in the hospital.
As I inch toward the edge of the bed, Roy slides his arm around
me and pulls me against him.
“I need to get to the hospital,” I protest.
“And I’ll make sure you get there, but not before you come for
me at least twice. You’re wound up tighter than an eight-day clock,
and the longer you fight me on this, the longer it’s going to be
before I get you there.”
“But—”
“Unless it’s your safeword, Yes, Daddy and screams of pleasure
are all I want to hear out of your mouth. No need to ask for
permission. You can come whenever you’re ready.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
B y the time we are ready to leave for the hospital, Daddy has given
me three orgasms in bed, and two more in the shower.
“You’ve been a good girl for Daddy, but now it’s time for us to go
back to being Roy and Bobbie.”
And reality.
Sure, I’m disappointed. The sex was off the charts, and I’d be
crazy to not want more. But he’s clearly had his fun, and ready to
move on. Fair enough.
“I’ve enjoyed being with you,” I tell him, “but if you don’t mind, I
think I’d prefer to go to the hospital to see Gordie on my own.”
“Of course. I should probably get to the gym, anyway.”
The kiss he gives me before I leave doesn’t really feel like he’s
done with me. But I shrug that off as part of his player charm.
When I get to the hospital, Gordie is sitting up in bed. If I didn’t
know he’d taken that big hit last night, I’d be wondering why he’s
even here.
He shoots me a wide grin. “Hey B.”
“Hey G. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve got a headache, and I get super sleepy, but that’s typical.
So, pretty good, considering. With luck, I can be back on the ice in
about a week—just in time for our next road trip.”
Wow, he sounds a whole lot better than he did last night. Tired,
for sure, but he’s not slurring his words.
“That fast?”
“Maybe. Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Let me rephrase that, is there something more going on with
you than worrying about me?”
“No. I’m all good. You just focus on healing. When are they
springing you?”
“I have more testing this morning, but if the results are good,
then they said I can go home this afternoon.”
 “Do you need someone with you? I can stay with you, or you
could stay with me…”
“Nah, you’ll be relieved to know the team has a home care aid all
arranged. And as much as I’d love for you to be stuck waiting on me
hand and foot, I wouldn’t want to deprive someone of work hours.”
“As long as you don’t run them off their feet.”
“I’ll be good.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Not unless they decide to keep me in for another night.”
“In that case, I’m going to head home and let you get some
rest.”
“B—Thanks for coming to the game. It meant the world to me.”
“I can’t say it was my pleasure, but you’re welcome.”
“And B? Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re wearing the same
clothes you were last night.”
I stick my tongue out and flip him the bird.
Roy is waiting in the hallway as I leave the room and I hope to
hell he didn’t hear Gordie’s parting shot.
“I thought you were going to the gym.”
“I was,” he says. “But decided to visit Gordie first. How are you
doing?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Don’t stay too long with him, okay? I’d really
like for him to get sprung today, and—”
“He needs sleep. You look like you could use some more, too.”
I don’t let that air of concern fool me. It’s all part of the charm.
But I do let it settle over me like a comfortable blanket for just a
minute.
 8

Royal
G uilt slams into me like a runaway truck the minute I walk into
Gordie’s room.
I spent last night and part of this morning fucking his sister in
every way I could think of, and now I’m reminded of how bad an
idea it is to fuck your teammate’s sibling.
Except I don’t want to stop.
“How are you feeling?” I ask. He looks pretty good considering
the hit he took last night. But I know from experience, that
concussions are unpredictable as fuck.
“Better than last night.” He sounds better, too.
“Bobbie said they might let you go home this afternoon.”
“Yeah. More tests coming, and then whether I go home today
depends on how those look.”
“Fingers crossed.”
“And speaking of Bobbie,” he pins me with a steely-eyed stare.
“I’m not going to be all, don’t mess with my sister. She’s a grownup
who can make her own decisions. All I ask is that she doesn’t
become the subject of locker room talk.”
“She won’t.” It’s a fair request. And being the new guy, he
wouldn’t know that I don’t fuck and tell. “How did you know?”
“Give me some credit. You were here with her last night. You left
together and she showed up this morning wearing the same
clothes…It would take a bigger knock to the head than I got to keep
me from putting all that together and coming up with you and my
sister spent the night together.”
“Yeah, when you lay it out like that… Look, I’m going to get
going. You need to rest, and I promised Bobbie I wouldn’t stay long
and tire you out. I’ll check in with you later. Call or text me if you
need anything.”
“Sure thing.”
I go straight to the gym to work out. I had meant to do that
before visiting Gordie, but I needed to see him, get things straight
first.
 9

Bobbie
I can ’ t believe I watched hockey on TV, let alone every game while
the Storm were on the road. And I can’t decide whether it’s
presumptuous or endearing of Gordie to tap the side of his helmet at
the beginning of every game and whenever he scores a goal, like he
knows I’m watching. But I kind of have to admit it’s not just my
brother I’ve been watching for.
That one night with Roy affected me in ways I don’t even want
to think about. He introduced me to a side of myself I want to
explore further, but don’t know how to go about it.
Roy made it safe for me to be vulnerable. Safe for me to be
authentic without fear of being judged. Safe to indulge in kink
without fear of physical or emotional harm.
I have no idea where to seek out a partner I can trust to be that
way with me. To let me be that way with him.
Roy made me feel special. If it weren’t the most totally ridiculous
notion, I might even venture toward loved.
I stare at the television, irritated that there’s no game tonight.
Tomorrow is the start of three games at home. Instead of watching
on television, I could get tickets—
My thoughts are interrupted by my ringing phone. I check the
caller ID. It’s Clare Santucci. My first instinct is to let it go to
voicemail, but she’d been so kind to me, I answer.
 “Hi Clare.”
“Bobbie, how are you doing, hun? I was going to call you sooner,
but you struck me as the sort of person who needed some space
before I come barging into your life.”
I chuckle because she’s not wrong. “Maybe a bit. How are you?
Is Junior behaving?”
“Oh, hell no. I just know we are in so much trouble after the little
munchkin makes their appearance.”
“And you’ll enjoy every minute of it.”
“I probably will. The boys are playing at home tomorrow, so I
was wondering if you wanted to come and watch the game with me.
You could ogle Nash under the pretense of being there for Gordie’s
first home game after his injury.”
“I—”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll make sure there’s a ticket waiting for
you at the Will Call window.”
I have flashbacks of childhood. All those hours in the stands with
only books for company. What would it have been like if there had
been someone for me to hang out with?
“Okay, you twisted my arm. And thank you for checking in. I
really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I look forward to
seeing whose jersey you’ll be wearing.” She cackles for a second or
two before the line goes dead.
I glance across the room at the armchair where I draped the
black and silver jersey emblazoned with Nash and the number
twenty-five that Gordie had delivered the morning the Storm left on
their road trip.
Love, Gordie was all the note said. But his meaning was clear
enough.
10
Royal
“W ell , it looks like you owe me ten bucks,” Gordie says to me as he
turns his tablet and points.
And seeing Bobbie sitting with the WAGs and wearing my jersey
is the best ten bucks I’ve ever lost. She’s just told the whole world
she’s mine.
I pull out my wallet. “What made you so sure she’d be wearing
my jersey?” I ask as I hold a tenner out to Gordie.
“We’re twins. Nobody knows her better than I do. Besides, it’s
obvious you two have unfinished business. And in case you didn’t
get the jersey-shaped hint, the next move is yours.”
Seeing her out there wearing my jersey has me regretting my
decision to not go over to her place after we got back last night.
I wanted to. But I didn’t think she wanted to see me again.
And that’s where I made my mistake. Poor communication.
I know better—in theory anyway—but up until Bobbie,
communication was pretty much limited to negotiating sex and
dynamics. That needs to change.
“Hey Gordie.”
“Yeah?”
“Do me a favor, text your sister and confirm she’s going to stay
until the end of the game?”
“On one condition.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not playing her.”
“I’ve got a rep. I’ll own that. But I’m not playing her. She’s the
real deal.”
He studies my face hard. Then, with a firm nod, he pulls out his
phone and lets his fingers do the talking.
A few minutes later, he gives me the thumbs up, and now I can
get my head in the game.
11
Bobbie
T he thrill of my brother scoring his first NHL goal just eight minutes
into the first period is only matched by Roy scoring barely two
minutes later and blowing me a kiss.
“Something you want to tell me?” Clare asks with a knowing
smirk.
“No?”
“Alrighty then. I’m just going to tell you one thing before I invent
my own—very filthy—version of events. And take from it what you
will. But in all the years I’ve been around Royal Nash, I have never
seen him blow a kiss to anyone. And especially not during a game.”
“Really?” I try not to sound too starry-eyed, but this is news that
gives me hope.
“Really. Bobbie, I’m still going to caution you to protect your
heart, but yeah, this is a whole new thing for him. And fair warning,
as soon as the press gets wind that something serious might be
going on, they will dig into your life. Hard. And then there will be all
the fans with the crushes that border on stalkerish. You’re going to
need to think long and hard on whether you’re up for that.”
“How do you handle it?”
“Jake and I have been together since high school. Do
temptations cross his path? Sure. But we’ve been solid since before
he became a household name, and we got married right after he
was signed by The Storm. My job is to love him unconditionally and
keep him grounded. Anytime I get the slightest notion that fame
might be getting to his head, I bring him back down to reality.”
“How do you do that?”
“There’s not a lot more real than cleaning the bathroom.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, I don’t stand up to pee, and neither does our lovely
cleaning lady. Anytime his head starts to swell, the bathroom
becomes his responsibility.”
“Good to know. Because I don’t stand up to pee either.”
 “Speaking of pee, Junior is using my bladder as a trampoline.”
“Rude.”
“Right? I think I can hold out until first intermission—provided
they don’t stop the clock too many times. Can I get you anything
from the concession on my way back?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
Clare is remarkably good company, and I enjoy myself more than
I thought possible.
The game runs into overtime, and I know I promised Gordie I’d
stay, but it’s getting really late, and I’ve got work in the morning.
I waffle back and forth over whether to stay or go.
In the end, I decide on a compromise. I’ll give it until the end of
this overtime period, but if it goes to a shootout, I’m going home.
Fortunately, just a minute or two later, Roy scores the winning
goal. He gets swarmed by his teammates, but that doesn’t stop him
from seeking me out in the crowd. As his gaze catches mine, he
blows me another kiss.
And I’m gone. So. Gone.
Moments later, he skates over to the boards and motions for me
to come down.
I feel like a salmon trying to swim upstream as I push my way
through the crush of departing fans.
“Hi,” he says when I finally reach him.
“Hi.”
“It’s going to be a while before I’m able to leave. I’ve got a car
waiting outside to get you home. Would you be okay if I come over
after I’m done here?”
“Yeah.” So much yeah.
“I’m going to kiss you right now, but we’ve got some talking to
do before we do anything else.” Then he cups my cheek and kisses
me ever so gently.
“Damn, I missed you,” he says as he pulls away.
“I missed you, too.”
“I’ll join you at your place as soon as I can.”
12
Royal
I get to Bobbie’s as fast as I can, but it still takes me over an hour.
It’s late, and she has to work in the morning, and I’m feeling like a
selfish bastard for wanting to see her, to spend time with her tonight
instead of making arrangements to see her tomorrow or something.
When she lets me in to her apartment, I pull her in for a long,
deep kiss that makes me almost ditch my plan for us to
communicate instead of fornicate. She’s wearing the cutest pajamas;
a skimpy blush-pink tank top with shorts that barely cover her ass
and it takes all my willpower to keep from bending her over the
nearest piece of furniture, yanking those shorts to her knees and
fucking her senseless.
Instead, I take her to bed and hold her close.
“I owe you an apology, Bobbie.”
“What for?”
“Not being clear with you that morning. I realized too late that I
gave you the impression that I wasn’t interested in seeing you again.
And I’m sorry. I have a reputation—well deserved—but I’ve always
been up front about not being interested in more than a night or
two. My mistake was not being up front about wanting to spend
more time with you. So, let me be clear now. I want to spend time
with you. I want to spend time as Bobbie and Roy, and time as
Daddy and his little girl. What do you want?”
“I want the same, Daddy.”
“Sleep now, little one. And if you’re a good girl, Daddy will give
you orgasms in the morning.”
“And if I’m a naughty girl?”
“Daddy won’t let you come for a whole day.”
“I’ll be good.”

E arly the next morning , I slip out of Bobbie’s bed, being careful not
to wake her. I slip on my jeans and sneak to the kitchen to get
coffee and breakfast started.
As the coffee is brewing, I pop bread into the toaster and root
around the fridge for butter and something sweet to spread on
toast.
As I put the half-empty jar of blackberry jam I found languishing
in the back of her fridge on the table, Bobbie shuffles in wearing an
ivory silky robe and fuzzy pink slippers.
“Sit down and I’ll bring you coffee,” I tell her.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know. But I wanted to.” I pull two mugs from the cupboard
and fill them with fresh, hot coffee. I add a bit of cream to Bobbie’s
before placing one on the table in front of her.
She takes a long sip and moans with pleasure. “So good. Thank
you.”
As soon as we’re finished breakfast, I take her hand and lead her
to the bathroom. I’d promised her orgasms this morning.
“Drop the robe and wait.” I turn the shower on and once the
temperature is right, I nudge her in. “I want you to lean forward
with your hands on the wall and your legs spread.” As soon as I
have my jeans off, I join her, pressing my front firmly to her back.
I pepper her shoulders and nape with kisses as I reach around
and between her legs. Using one hand, I rub her clit while I fuck her
hard with three fingers of my other hand. “Come as many times as
you can for Daddy. You were such a good girl last night and you
deserve all the orgasms.”
“I want you inside me—please, Daddy?”
“We’ll see, little one. Right now, this is all for you.”
I swear, nothing makes me harder than the sounds she makes as
she comes. “Again, little one, come again for Daddy.”
As she cries out her fourth orgasm, I replace my fingers with my
dick. Then I cup one breast and squeeze her nipple while I fuck her
hard and fast. I make sure she comes twice more and then give in to
my own pleasure.
“What a good girl you were for Daddy. Now stand still while I
wash you all over.”
13
Bobbie
“W hy are we here ?” I ask when we arrive at The Summit.
“It’s a surprise.”
We’ve been seeing each other for nearly a month, so I don’t
think this is going to be one of those sit and watch the guy show off
kind of dates.
He leads me through to a door that opens onto the rink where
there is a short bench with two pairs of hockey skates, socks and a
helmet sitting on it.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s going on.
“Roy, I can’t skate.”
“I know. I’m going to teach you. Because one day, I want to be
able to skate at Rockefeller Center while holding your hand for the
whole world to see."
It never occurred to me that he’d know I couldn’t skate. I mean,
everyone always assumed that because my brother was a hotshot
hockey player, I would be an excellent skater with above average
hockey skills.
Yeah, there were a few disappointed boys back in high school
who thought they could get a chance to play a pickup game with my
brother by dating me.
Once word got out that I couldn’t skate, and I wouldn’t get them
facetime with my brother, that was the end of boys asking me out
until college.
I’m not sure how to process Roy wanting to take me skating at
Rockefeller Center.
I’d figured that one night was all there would be. I mean, that’s
what Clare said. And after spending some quality time with Google
doing what librarians do best, I had nothing to convince me
otherwise.
And I went down every rabbit hole I could find in search of just
the tiniest glimmer of hope that this man, who’d given me the best
sex of my life, was capable of commitment.
 Instead, I found a long line of puck-bunnies.
And now, here he is, ready to teach me how to skate because he
wants to show me off to the world. There’s a niggling little piece of
me worrying that he wants me to learn to skate so he won’t be
embarrassed. But deep inside, I know that’s just childhood trauma
being loud.
Only someone who knows me and cares about my feelings would
make sure I have a private place to learn. And this is the moment
where I realize that I’ve fallen completely, and irrevocably in love
with this sweet, sexy, thoughtful man.
Of course, all these big feelings make my eyes water.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice right now.
“Then let’s get you skated up. We’re going to start off slowly.
Only fifteen minutes today. I don’t want your muscles too sore.”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so helpless in my adult life as I do
when I take my first wobbly step onto the ice. If it weren’t for Roy
supporting me, I’m pretty sure I’d be sporting two broken ankles.
“Just stand up tall with your ankles locked straight up and down,
keep your feet parallel and pointing straight in front of you. I’m
going to push you around the rink so you can get a feel for the ice.”
He positions himself behind me, his hands on my hips, and slowly
propels me forward. I focus on doing everything he told me. And
fail.
My left ankle bends inward, sending the toe of my skate outward
and even as I try hard to gain control of my wayward skate, it’s
looking like I’m about to experience a very painful case of the splits.
“Hang on.” It’s all the warning I get before Roy takes us both
down to the ice, with me landing softly on top of him.
“That was a good start,” he says as he gives me a squeeze.
“When you’re ready to go again, I want you to sit on your bum,
knees bent and feet facing forward, tight together, blades flat on the
ice, and ankles locked.”
I want to just stay here, like this. Safe in Daddy’s arms. But I
suddenly want to learn to skate more than I ever thought possible.
“I’m ready.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Tuomas oli ottanut rengin, hiljaisen ja työtä rakastavan miehen,
toverikseen. Kävipähän edes verotyöt tekemässä, ettei hänen
itsensä tarvinnut. Ja olihan työtä riittävästi Heinämäessäkin.

Janne olikin kelpo mies, johon saattoi luottaa. Kaikessa koetti hän
tehdä isäntänsä mieliksi ja aina olisi kovimpaan kohtaan käynyt, jos
Tuomas vain olisi antanut. Janne oli kohta huomannut isännän ja
emännän epäselvät välit ja alkanut kysyvin katsein seurailla
Tuomasta. Ja raskaina hetkinään oli Tuomas vähitellen kertonutkin
hänelle, miten asiat olivat, saadakseen hetkeksi helpotusta painaville
ajatuksilleen.

Tuomas painaa lapionsa pehmeään mutaan ja istuu lepäämään.

Kun yhdestä seikasta pääsisi selvyyteen, niin olisi helpompi elää.

Selvyyteen siitä, oliko jo mitään pahempaa tapahtunut ja oliko Anna
jo
Isossatalossa palvellessaan ollut semmoinen.

Jokin aavistus pani hänet kaikista vastustelemisista huolimatta

uskomaan, että Anna oli jo langennut. Sitä kai todisti Annan
käytöskin. Silmiin se ei enää uskaltanut vapaasti katsoa.

Tuomas ihmetteli mielentilaansa. Viha oli hänessä muuttunut

kaihertavaksi ikäväksi. Anna tuntui rakkaammalta kuin koskaan
ennen. Olisi tahtonut häntä aina sylissään soudatella ja puhua helliä
sanoja, olla hänen lähellään. Mutta Annahan ei sitä tahtonut. Ei
vaikka kuinka olisi pyytänyt. Aina oli sillä se kiireensä ja tavalliset
estelynsä.

Jos Anna lupaisi muuttua, vaikkei tunnustaisikaan, tahtoisi hän

kaiken entisen heittää mielestään ja aloittaa uutta elämää. Miksei
hän sitä voisi tehdä edes hänen mielikseen. Sanoisi, lupaisi, vaikkei
sitten lupaustaan pitäisikään. Olisipahan mielelle helpotusta sekin.

Tuomas huomasi aamiaisajan olevan jo ohi luiskahtamassa.

Pitäisi kai sitä syömään, vaikka ruoka ei nykyään maistunutkaan…

Olisi siinä perkkio semmoinen, että kerran se vaivat korvaisi, kun
jaksaisi kuntoon saada.

Tuomas katseli pitkiä, lihavanmutaisia sarkoja, mutta mieli ei

syttynyt enää työnilosta niinkuin ennen.

Siinähän se on. Tekee häntä minkä jaksaa. Perkatkoon poika

loppua. Poika! Pikku Matti! Sitä hän ei taaskaan ollut muistanutkaan.
Olihan se vielä hänellä, oma poika. Sitä ei kukaan voisi häneltä
riistää.

Tuntui keveämmältä sitä ajatellessa.

Pian poika ylenee ja varttuu mieheksi. Yhdessä silloin työssä

käydään, yhdessä kaikki suunnitellaan ja yhdessä työnilot nautitaan.

Tuomaan köyristynyt vartalo oikeni ja astuntaan tuli reippautta.

Olihan siinä vielä yksi hänen maailmansa särkymättä jälellä. Ja

sen eteen kannatti miehen elää kaikesta huolimatta.

*****

Aamiainen oli jo syöty, kun Tuomas perkkiolta palattuaan astui

tupaan.
Janne oli verotyössä ja Anna oli mennyt kylään.

— Mihin? kysyi Tuomas istuutuen aterialle.

 — Ei tuo sanonut, virkkoi Iida soudatellen Mattia kehdossa.

— Kävikö täällä Isotalo? kysyi Tuomas epäluuloisesti tytöltä.

— En minä ole nähnyt.

Tuomas söi vaieten.

Mihinkähän se nyt…? Jokohan olisi taaskin…? Ei voinut ajatella

ajatustaan loppuun. Outo ikävä riipaisi taas sydänalassa, niin että
syönti keskeytyi.

Onpa saattanut asiaakin olla. Täytyyhän sitä joskus kylässäkin…

Tuomas täytteli piippuaan katsellen poikaa kehdossa. Miten se oli

herttainen ja soma. Osasi jo odottaa isää kotiin ja heti polvelle
kapusi, kun tupaan tuli. Jokelsi ja katsoi luottavasti silmiin. Ei tiennyt
vielä mitään pahasta maailmasta.

— Eihän se vaan sairas liene? arveli Tuomas tytölle.

— Ei suinkaan. Nousi varemmin tänä aamuna, niin nukkui nyt

siihen.

— Iidakin pitäisi sitten vaan hyvää huolta tuosta pojasta, virkkoi

Tuomas ulos mennessään.

*****

Herättyään ruokaunestaan meni Tuomas tupaan. Anna oli jo

palannut kylästä ja laulahdellen liikkui askareissaan. Tuomaskin sai
häneltä ystävällisen katseen.

— Jos minä toisin kahvia sinne suolle, virkkoi.

 — Minulleko?

Anna helähti nauramaan.

— Kenelle minä nyt muille… Sinulle tietysti, jos tahdot.

— Hyvähän se olisi. Väsymys tahtoo väliin tulla, vaikkei ennen

väsyttänyt.

Iida oli vienyt pojan ulos tuvasta ja Anna oli Tuomaan kanssa
kahden.

— Mikä sinua nyt väsyttää pahemmin kuin ennenkään, virkkoi.

— Etköpä tuota tietäne… muuten vain kyselet. Apea mieli se

voimat vähentää.

— No ainako sinä vain sitä yhtä ja samaa. Ja on siinä mies, kun ei

lakkaa turhia mielessään kuvittelemasta.

— Kyllähän lakkaisi, kun vain voisi. Enkähän minä mitään

uskoisikaan semmoista, kun sinä olisit ystävällisempi minulle, mutta
kun…

— Eihän sinulle uskalla olla edes ystävällinenkään, virkkoi Anna

istuen penkille.

— Mitä sinä puhut? Uskalla? Kyllä sitä… kun sinä vain edes
kerrankaan…

— Ethän puhu edes mitään.

— Mitä minä osaisin puhua, kun…

 — Sitä yhtä ja samaa. Saisit sinä sen jo mielestäsi heittää.

Anna oli noussut ja ikkunaan nojaten katseli ulos. Tuomas tuli ja

laski epäröiden kätensä hänen vyötäisilleen.

— Olisit kerrankin hyvä minulle… minullekin… etkä olisi aina

niinkuin jostain nyreissäsi. Puhuenhan asiat paranevat. Jos mitä
olisikin, niin enhän minä niitä muisteleisi, kunhan lupaisit tästä
lähtien olla…

— Niin, niin… sitä se taas vain jauhaa…

Jos olisi ja jos olisi… ja lupaisit… lupaisit… Mitä minä lupaisin!

Anna koetti saada ääneensä kiukkua, muttei väistänyt Tuomaan

hyväilyä.

Tuomasta huumasi nuoren vartalon verevyys ja pehmeä

kimmoisuus.

— Lupaisit tulla kerrankin minun aittaani, virkkoi hän hiljaa

muuttaen ajatustaan.

— Olenhan minä tullutkin.

— Niin harvoin. Tulisit useammin.

— Saanhan tullakin, kun lakkaat luulojasi haastamasta, lupasi

Anna.

— Tuletko jo tänä iltana?

— Saanhan tulla, kun puhut muista asioista.

 — Mitäpäs tuosta… sovittaisiin kokonaan… autettaisiin uutta
elämää.

Iida tuli tupaan ja Tuomaan täytyi lähteä työhön.

— Toisit sitten sitä kahvia… virkkoi ovessa mennessään.

*****

Metsätiellä yhtyi Tuomaaseen Ollilainen, Tuomaan naapuri. Sanoi

menevänsä tuohia kiskomaan.

Keskusteltuaan ilmoista ja muista virkkoi naapuri kohta.

— Sinulla ne taitaa olla raskaat päivät elettävänä.

— Miten niin?

— Ka, kun vielä kysyy. Vaimosi ja Isotalon seikkailustahan

puhutaan jo yleisesti. Huhuilla on aina hyvät siivet.

— Puhutaan? Kylilläkö?

Tuomaan muoto musteni ja sieraimet laajenivat värähdellen. Tämä

oli jotain, jota hän ei ollut ennemmin tullut ajatelleeksi.

— Ei tosin muuta kuin salavihkaa, virkkoi Ollilainen. Mutta salaa ja

hiljaisestihan ne juorut kulkevatkin. Kuuluu Isotalo kehuvan Annaa,
että on siinä mukava eukko…

— Se niljainen perkele!

Tuomaan täytyi painua kivelle istumaan ja vetämään henkeä. Uusi

isku oli tullut aivan odottamatta.
 Ollilainen istui vaieten hänen vieressään miettien, mitä sanoisi
Tuomaalle. Mikä neuvo olisi paras? Vai eikö mikään. Mitä voisi mies
irstaalle vaimolle, joka oli jo mennyt niin pitkälle. Juoruille taas ei
mahtanut mitään. Kylän kellot niitä kuljettivat ja ne olivat kaupaksi
käypää tavaraa.

— Vai on se konna kehunut vielä… Tulisi nyt tuohon, niin heti

kappaleiksi repisin.

Tuomas istui hervahtaneena. Raivon puuska oli mennyt ja mieltä

kirveli kiukku ihmisten puheista. Sitä hän ei ollut osannut odottaa.
Olisi. Isotalon luullut salaavan, mutta meneppäs nyt itse kehumaan.
Ensin varastaa toisen vaimon ja sitten vielä kunnian.

Johtui päivällinen sovinnon yritys mieleen. Sydäntä hiipaisi

omituinen kaiho. Siihenkö se nyt katkesikin taas kaikki? Niin
lyhyttäkö se olikin? Olisi saanut Ollilainen olla puhumatta koko
asiasta. Olisihan edes tänä iltana rakentunut sopu, ainakin ajakseen.
Saatana hänen aittaansa menköön, minä vaan en. Isotalon kanssa
yhteisellä! Hyi helvetti!

— Eihän se ensimäinen kerta ole, että vaimot sellaisia ovat, jos

ovat miehetkin, mutta kyllä sinulla, Tuomas parka, olisi saanut olla
parempi vaimo. Sääliksi käy tuommoista miestä…

— Kun eivät edes kylillä puhuisi…

— Sepä se.

— Ei sitä nyt kehtaa enää kenellekään silmiään näyttää, jatkoi

Tuomas synkästi.

— No eipä juuri. Kunnia se on miehelle kaikista kallein.

 *****

Päivä kallistui illoilleen. Metsästä alkoi kuulua karjan kotiinhuutoja.

Miesten istumapaikan lähellä helähti Heinämäen Annan huuto.

— Tui Omenaisen, tui Kirjokaisen…

Siinä jo ilmestyikin polulla, kulkien vähän alempaa miesten ohi.

— Siinähän se nyt meni… Olisi tuolla ulkonäköä, kun olisi

ihmistapoja, virkkoi Ollilainen.

— Näöllään tuo taisi minutkin lumota. On kaunis kuin saatana!

Tekisi niin mieleni ottamaan hänetkin kiinni ja paiskaamaan tuohon
kiveen niin, ettei ikinä nousisi!

Tuomas nousi ja painui suotielleen. Ollilainen seurasi hänen

kintereillään.

— Kuulehan!

Tuomas seisahti.

— No mitä nyt?

Sitä vain, että parasta se olisi sinulle, kun muuttaisit muille maille.
Möisit torppasi ja tavarasi ja painuisit pakoon pahoja ihmisiä.

Vai pakoon… eikö niitä muualta löytyisi… Ja eikö paha löytäisi

pahaa, vaikka maailman ääreen muuttaisi.

— Onhan se niinkin.

Ei muuta kun saisi lyödä liiskaksi semmoiset!

IX.

Lauantai-iltana saunan jälkeen käveli Tuomas Nuotioniemeen. Teki

mieli pistäytyä joskus naapurissakin, vaikka arastellen sinne menikin.
Mitähän sanovat siitä…? Katsovatkohan naureksien…?

Nuotioniemen Heikki istui pihamaalla piippuaan poltellen. Talossa

oli hiljaista. Palvelijat olivat menneet iltasaunan jälkeen kukin
taholleen ja Heikki, vakava vanhapoika, oli yksin kotona.

Tuomas oli kuullut, että Heikki aikoi myydä talonsa. Ja kun sattui
olemaan hyvää aikaa, päätti hän käydä kysymässä asian
todenperäisyyttä. Tuomasta oli viime päivinä alkanut kyllästyttää
toisen maan viljeleminen. Vaikka Heinämäki olikin kuin omansa ja
vielä pitkäaikainen vuokrasopimus, oli kyllästyminen tullut sitä
voimakkaammaksi, kuta enemmän alkoi ajatella, että maa, jota viljeli,
oli Isotalon maata, metsät, joissa liikkui, Isotalon metsiä.

Jos vaan Heikki myy talonsa sopivasti, niin hän ei arkaile

ostaessaan. Pääseehän ainakin Isotalon komentelemisista ja
viimepäivinä yhtämittaa kiusanneesta ajatuksesta, että täytyy elää
niinkuin sen miehen armoista, joka on saattanut hänet suurimpaan
häpeään ja perheonnettomuuteen.
 Nuotioniemeen paistoi iltapäivä vinosti. Haapa portin pielessä
lepatti hiljaista puhettaan iltatuulessa. Kovinpa se talo näyttikin
hauskalta näin kesäisessä asussaan.

— Kas Tuomasta, kun on lähtenyt kerrankin naapuriin, ihasteli

Heikki ja toimitti istumaan pihamaalle.

— Tulinhan kerran lähteneeksi. Usein ei joudakaan, kun on paljot

työt aina vastuksina.

— Kovin oletkin niitten töittesi kanssa… niinkuin ei vähemmälläkin

ennättäisi.

— Kylläkin sitä… mutta onhan edes työstä jotain huvia, kun ei

muustakaan.

Heikki ymmärsi hyvin, mitä Tuomas puheellaan tarkoitti, muttei

kajonnut siihen. Vaimostaan se ehkä tahtoisi haastaa, mutta mitäpä
tuosta. Semmoisia ne ovat, kyllä se on jo huomattu. Siksipä heistä
on erillään tässä pysyttykin. Heikin kasvoille levisi tyytyväisyyden
ilme. Erillään on osattu pysyä. Harmia ne vain tuovat, kun ne kovin
läheiseksi pääsevät, mietti Nuotioniemen hiljainen peltomyyrä.

— Minä tässä päinvastoin alan laiskistua, virkkoi Heikki. Suoraan

sanoen möisin talon, kun olisi, joka ostaisi.

— Möisitköhän? arveli Tuomas.

— Varmasti. Mitä minä yksinäinen mies talolla.

— Olisihan niitä ostajia, kun vain olisivat myyjälle mieleisiä.

— Onko sulla ostaja tiedossa? Sanohan pois.

 — Minähän sitä olen vähän niinkuin ajatellut, mutta mitäpä siitä.
Ethän sinä minulle möisikään.

— Miks'en. Vaikka heti tehdään kaupat.

— Ihanko tosissa?

— Mitäpä tässä nyt sinun kanssasi naljailemaankaan. Lyö vain

kättä päälle! Hinnan kai olet kuullutkin.

— Olenhan tuon kuullut, mutta milläpä tyhjä mies talon ostaa.

Heinämäestä tosin saa muutamia tuhansia, mutta…

— Ei siinä sinun kanssasi rahat tule kysymykseen. Itse saat

määrätä ehdot.

— Älähän.

— Saat sen uskoa, vakuutti Heikki.

Tuomaasta tuntui niinkuin painava mieli olisi hetkeksi haihtunut ja

päivä hänelle joltakin suunnalta alkanut valjeta. Hän ostaa talon ja
pääsee eroon ilkeästä isännästään. Annakin ihastuu, kun taloon
pääsee emännäksi. Ehkä heittää huonot tapansakin. Aloitetaan uutta
elämää.

— Kyllähän minä siinä mielessä tulin, että ostan vaikka heti, jos
vain hyväksyt tämmöisen ostajan. Olisihan noita rahojakin joku
tuhansinen aluksi.

— Mitäpä minä niillä… pääasia on, kun saan jättää talon oikeisiin
käsiin.
 Sovittiin, että kauppa päätetään heti. Tuomas saa talon
huomisesta lähtien käsiinsä.

— Minä tästä samoilen tuonne selkäsaareen ja rakennan sinne

kalasaunani, puheli Heikki. Kalastelen, makailen, soutelen huvikseni.
Tulenpahan sitten talveksi tupaasi, Tuomas, jos luvan antanet. Ei ole
huolta huomisesta. Elää kellettelen, niinkuin kulloinkin parhaaksi
näen.

Miehet juttelivat myöhään yöhön. Nuotioselältä kuului venemiesten

ääniä ja airojen kolinaa. Kaakko äännähteli joskus tyvenillä vesillä
rikkoen kirkkaan kesäyön hiljaisuuden.

Tuomas tunsi pitkästä aikaa olonsa jotenkuten rauhalliseksi. Jos

Annankin saisi hyvällä kohtelulla vielä muuttumaan. Jos lakkaisi kyliä
käymästä ja tyytyisi uuteen kotiin ja muuttaisi mielensä. Kun
kerrankin kaikki entinen katoaisi kuin paha uni ja saisi alottaa uutta
elämää.
X.

Hiljainen, kesäinen sunnuntai.

Taivas kaareutui kirkkaana ja vilpoinen tuuli veteli juovia järven

selkiin. Tuomas istui veräjäpuulla Heinämäen pellon laidassa ja
katseli edessään lainehtivaa ruispeltoa.

Nyt se jää toiselle tuokin. Mitähän isä sanoisi, jos eläisi? Ja äiti?
Sanoisivatkohan: Suotta jätit. Olisit pysynyt vanhoilla juurillasi.
Mutta eihän hänellä oikeastaan mitään juuria ollutkaan. Vieraassa
maaperässähän hän eli. Toisen maata. Ikuisen vihamiehen ja
häpäisijän.
Jääköön toiselle!

Täytyi päästä omalta pohjalta yrittämään ja näyttämään, mitä saisi

aikaan. Varmaan se huoliakin huojentaisi. Ja olihan siinä vihdoin
pojalla oma pohja, jolta sopisi jatkaa. Ei yhtään kaihoa eikä koti-
ikävää saa tulla, ei vaikka…! Kauniimpi on siellä paikkakin.

Tuomas käveli pihaan.

Mitähän tuosta nyt Anna sanonee? Ilostuukohan? Kun ihastuisi,

kapsahtaisi kaulaan ja sanoisi, että elä milloinkaan enää muistele…
Minä koetan olla hyvä ja uskollinen emäntä Nuotioniemessä.
Jopahan se niin sanoo!

*****

Tuomas astui tupaan. Permannolle oli levitetty koivunlehtiä ja

horsmia kuivamaan. Anna nukkui tuoksuvilla lehdillä. Vanha
Könniläinen löi keskipäivän tunteja.

Tuomas aprikoi, menisikö vielä ulos vai istuisiko odottamaan

Annan heräämistä. Siihen painautui Annan viereen lehdille. Saisi
siinä salaa häntä katsella. Tuomaan sydänalassa hiipaisi outo
rakkauden jano. Miten kauan siitä olikaan, kun hän oli vaimoaan
hyväillyt? Tuntui niinkuin olisi ollut määrättömän kauan.

Annan rinta kohoili tasaisesti ohuen puseron alla. Kiinteän rinnan

kuultava iho näkyi kaula-aukeamasta. Toinen käsi oli pään alla ja
toinen vapaana valui vartalolla. Pyöreä, täyteläinen käsivarsi ja
kiinteä, kuultavahipiäinen rinta puseron alla.

Tuomaan teki mieli laskea kätensä hiljaa ja hyväillen Annan

käsivarrelle, mutta pelkäsi herättävänsä hänet. Tuomas vain janoten
katseli muistamatta mitään, näkemättä mitään muuta kuin
täyteläisen vartalon, pyöreän käsivarren, hohtavat posket ja rinnan
tasaisen aaltoilun.

Uusi polttava kaipauksen tunne värisytti Tuomasta. Mitähän se oli?

Aistien kaipuutako vai ystävyyden tarvetta! Olisiko se ollutkaan
mahdollista hänelle tuon nuorekkaan olennon omistaminen? Oliko se
tosiaankin häntä varten? Tällaisen jäykän ja järeän, työssä
kovettuneen, vaivoissa vanhettuneen…? Mitä hän rakkaudella,
tämmöinen!
 Kurkkua kuristi yksinäisyyden tunne, katkera, selittämätön
kaipaus.
Kuristi niinkuin olisi itku ylös pyrkimässä.

Hänenhän sen pitäisi olla, vaikkei ollut. Hänellehän sen, tuon

tuossa, tulisi osoittaa rakkautta, vaikkei osoittanut.

Tuntui kuin Isotalo olisi vieressä nauraa höhöttänyt ja kurkottanut

niljaisia käsiään Annaa kohti.

Minun se on. Minulle sen posket punehtivat ja silmät loistavat.

Minulle kupertuvat poskien hymykuopat ja minä sen omistan —
ruumiin. Muulla ei ole väliäkään!

Taaskin salpasi Tuomaan hengityksen paisuva viha, niinkuin oli

sadat kerrat ennenkin salvannut.

Tätä hirveätä helvetin tuskaa!

Anna heräsi ja katsoi ihmetellen Tuomaaseen. Lienevätkö

Tuomaan kasvot olleet vihasta vääristyneet, koskapa Anna kirkaisi.

— Hyi! Mitä sinä siinä…?

Ja aikoi ponnahtaa ylös.

— Kuulehan, älähän..! Olisit nyt siinä vielä hetken.

Tuomas koetti hapuilla Annaa syliinsä, mutta Anna pyörähti

penkille istumaan.

— Kun ihan säikähdin.

— Minuako?
 — Niin.

Tuomaskin istui penkille ja näytti alakuloiselta. Hetken perästä

virkkoi.

— Mitäs sinä siitä sanot, kun Nuotioniemi on nyt meidän?

— Mitä?

— Että minä olen nyt Nuotioniemen isäntä.

— Mitä sinä nyt horiset? kysyi Anna ihmetellen.

— Että minä ostin sen… usko, jos tahdot. Tuoss' on kauppakirjat.

Tuomas heitti Annan syliin tukun papereita ja siirtyi lähemmäksi

istumaan. Koetti hymyillä sanoessaan.

— Ja sinä olet nyt talon emäntä.

Ihmetellen katseli Anna vuoroin Tuomaaseen ja papereihin.

— Mutta ethän sinä ole mitään ennemmin puhunut.

Tuomas hytkähti. Hyville mielinpä taisi käydä.

— Eihän sinulle ole saanut mitään puhutuksi, kun aina kierrät ja

kaarrat. Olen sitä jo monta päivää miettinyt, ja kun kuulin, että Heikki
myy talonsa, niin menin kuulemaan ja nyt ne on kaupat tehty.

— Johan sinä nyt olet aivan hassuna, ihmetteli Anna.

— Vai hassuna. En minä ikääni toisen maata rupea viljelemään.

Ja semmoisen miehen kuin Isotalo.
 — No ihanko sinä tosissasi?

— Ei siinä ole yhtään leikkiä.

— Mutta mihin Heinämäki jää?

— Se myydään.

— Ole hulluttelematta.

— No mitä me muutakaan sillä…

— Ja millä sinä talon maksat?

— Työlläni.

— Taitaa olla huono maksaja.

— Se on ainakin minun mielestäni luotettavin.

Anna mittaili Tuomasta silmillään.

Tuoko tuossa jaksaisi taloa pystyssä pitää? Ja miten se on vielä

innoissaan. Anna purskahti nauramaan.

— Mitä sinä naurat?

Tuomaan kasvot synkkenivät.

— Pilkkanaurullako sinä vain kiitätkin minua!

— Enhän minä, mutta…

— Naura vain, ainakaan Isotalo nyt ei enää naura!

 Tuomas meni ulos mieli kuohuen.

Näinkö se taas kaikki kävikin? Näinkö taas hänen suunnitelmansa

raukesivat? Turhaa, turhaa kaikki!
XI.

Tuomaan ulos mentyä jäi Anna vielä penkille istumaan. Tuvan

lehtikerpuille tuoksuva ilma raukasi ja kutitti somasti hermoja.

Nyt se taas suuttui, kun en heti osannut ylistää talon ostoaan.

Mitähän varten talon osti, kun Heinämäkikin on kuin pieni talo. Se
vihaa Isotaloa ja sillä se… Vai olisiko suunnitellut saavansa minut
yksin pitää, kun Nuotioniemeen muuttaa?

Anna naurahti.

Minua miellyttääkseen se sen osti. Olisihan saanut jäädä

ostamatta, mutta kun tahtoo talollisena olla, niin tahtokoon. Eipä
sieltä matka ole paljon pitempi Isoontaloon kuin täältäkään. Ja
parempihan on olla talon emäntä kuin torpan vaimo. Olisihan pitänyt
kiittääkin, mutta enhän ehtinyt. Olisihan saanut syliinsäkin ottaa, kun
olisi tahtonut. Olisi muulloinkin saanut, vaan en taida enää kelvata.

Anna oikoi kauniita jäseniään ja naurahti hermostuneesti.

Nyt saisi jo aittaanikin tulla, mutta eipä tule, enkä mene

esittämään, kun ei kerran pyytämättä… Jöröttää ja jöröttäköön. Kun
en kelpaa hänelle, niin kyllä muille! Eihän ole minun syyni, että kyliä
käyn, kun Tuomas kerran…

Anna vavahti. Syvällä jossakin oli vielä hiukkanen tuntoa jälellä,

joka vaati vaikenemaan.

Olenko minä Tuomaalle tarjonnutkaan rakkauttani? Jos on

aittaansa pyytänyt, niin en ole mennyt. Esteitä on ollut milloin
mitäkin.

Niin ei olisi saanut tapahtua. Eikä saakaan vasta enää. Kun saa
oikeutensa, niin vähemmän epäilee tästä lähtien. Eikähän Isotalo ole
koskaan kieltänytkään. Ja viis', jos olisikin! Alkoi vistottaa joskus se
Isotalon kotielämä. Naisia yksi melkein joka sormelle. Ei sano heistä
välittävänsä, vaan pitäisikö se niitä talossaan muuten, jos ei välittäisi.

Annalle johtui mieleen Hautamäen nuori isäntä. Oli karjatiellä

eräänä iltana tavannut ja alkanut nauraen jutella.

Annan olemukseen valahti sitä ajatellessa hiukaseva kaipuu, joka

pani aivan polvet horjahtamaan.

Kun olisi Isotalokin semmoinen! Notkea kuin nuori koivu ja

silmissä kumma palo. Mutta vanhaksi alkaa jo käydä ja
silmässäkään ei ole enää mitään muuta kuin rasvainen kiilto. Saisi jo
pysyä omillaan, mutta eihän se… Enkä minä hänen kanssaan
enää… mutta kun on tullut aljetuksi, niin olkoon niin kuin on ja
menköön niinkuin menee. Mihinkähän se nyt, kun ei
syömäänkään…? Tuomas parka… Suotta vain on tullut hänen
mielensä niin usein pahoitetuksi.