Read Online Chasing Stanley by Deirdre Martin - Free Book Online Page B

the Blades at the time, had had to do damage control. All agreed it sucked that Paul van Dorn had to hang up his skates.
    Ulf slapped a hand against the edge of the table. “We will win the Cup this year! I know it!” He clinked his beer glass against Jason’s. “I might have to cripple your brother to do it, though.”
    â€œWho’s his brother?” Barry Fontaine asked.
    Denny stared at him. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”
    Barry looked haplessly around the table. “What am I missing here?”
    â€œYour fuckin’ brain,” Denny O’Malley snorted. “This is Jason Mitchell, right?” Barry nodded. “His brother is Eric Mitchell.”
    â€œNo shit. I didn’t make the connection.” He chugged the remains of his beer, wiping the foam off the top of his lip with the back of his hand. “He’s one tough fucker, your brother.”
    Jason frowned. “Whatever.” The last thing he felt like talking about tonight was Eric—unless, of course, they cared to point out how he’d nailed his brother’s ass out on the ice tonight. That would be okay.
    â€œHe’s older than you, right?” queried Thad.
    Jason clenched his jaw. “By three minutes.”
    â€œYou guys are twins?” Barry looked confused. “You don’t look alike.”
    â€œNot all twins are identical.”
    â€œI always thought they were.”
    â€œYou also think Don Cherry’s a sharp dresser,” Thad pointed out. Barry replied with a one-fingered salute.
    Drinking with his teammates, time seemed to come unbound. Jason was completely in the moment—until Barry Fontaine stood up and announced he was leaving.
    â€œI’m afraid I have to call it a night, guys. The wife is waiting at home, and she’ll kill me if I get in too late.”
    That’s when Jason realized: He’d forgotten about Stanley.
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    Delilah associated Starbucks with three things: cinnamon scones, café mocha, and Marcus. She was unprepared, therefore, when Jason hustled through the door and made a beeline straight for their table.
    â€œDelilah.” He was panting lightly. “I’m so glad I found you.”
    Delilah put down her fork. “What’s wrong with Stanley?”
    â€œNothing. I mean, not really. But I need your help. Hi,” he said to Marcus, extending his hand. “I’m Jason.”
    â€œOh, I know who you are,” Marcus replied, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard all about you.” He sipped demurely at his coffee. “About your dog, I mean.” His clarification was the only thing stopping Delilah from sliding beneath the table and slithering away in mortification.
    â€œI’m Marcus,” he continued. “C’mon, park your carc. I’d scootch over to make room for you next to me, but I’ve got some personal space issues. It’s a dancer thing.”
    Marcus winked at Delilah, who kicked him as discreetly as she could before making room for Jason, who looked desperate.
    â€œI know you don’t want to set up a formal schedule to walk Stan until he’s fully trained,” he said to Delilah. “But I need your help now . Last night was the Blades’ home opener, and by the time I got home, Stanley had had an accident—totally my fault, not his. I don’t want that to happen again. I need someone to take him out on the nights I’m playing.”
    â€œSomeone?” Marcus sniffed.
    Jason rolled his eyes. “Okay, Delilah. I need Delilah.”
    Delilah pushed pieces of scone around her plate. Now that Jason was here, she was no longer hungry. It was hard to eat when your heart was going crazy in your chest. “I don’t understand. Don’t hockey games last just a few hours?”
    â€œYeah, but there’s more than time spent out on the ice. We usually get to Met Gar early to work on our skates and sticks, and