Also by Kaitlin Collins

Falling Series

Falling for Scotland

Falling for Ellen

Ringing in the New Year

Children’s Book

The Desk Dragon

Copyright © 2026 Kaitlin Collins All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Kaitlin Collins is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

Paperback ISBN-13: 979-8-9923956-5-5

Cover design by: Caravelle Creates

Printed in the United States of America

To those who dreamt of a different life.

Your grief is valid.

Chapter 1

Jeremiah

“Daddy, can you lace me up?”

Charlie had learned to tie her shoes years ago, but she always insisted that I was the best at lacing up her hockey skates, and who was I to deny such an adorable face? She always suckered me in with those big brown eyes of hers. It wasn’t a surprise; they looked just like her mother’s, and Sadie had gotten whatever she wanted the second she batted those gorgeous eyes at me.

The familiar pang of loss hit me, and I shifted uncomfortably in my hoodie, rolling my shoulders back before focusing on the task at hand. Sadie had been gone four years now, and the grief still made itself known at the most random—and often inconvenient—times.

I finished the last skate off with a secure knot before patting the sides. “How’s that, Tot? Not too tight?”

Charlie’s beaming smile made any lingering sadness disappear instantly, a bright light banning the shadows back to their corners.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Daddy.”

I glanced at my watch and then looked around for the new coach. Practice was supposed to start any minute, and most of the kids were all geared up and ready to go. Our previous coach, Calvin, had retired after having hip surgery, and while everyone had been disappointed when he announced it at the end of last season, we all trusted him to find a quality replacement.

“Hello, everyone. If I could have your attention.”

The murmur of conversations died out as a woman who looked to be about my age stepped forward into the group. She had her blonde hair tied back into a low knot underneath a navy baseball cap, and I could just make out her hazel eyes in the shadow of the brim. I wondered if they were more green or brown. A glint of silver drew my attention to her nose ring that fit right in with the multiple piercings in her ears. I’d been known to rock a couple piercings in my college years and had always found girls with nose rings attractive. She was no exception.

“I’m Zoe Daniels. I’ll be your new coach this season,” she announced. “Coach Calvin has told me lots of great things about this team, and I’m excited for the season ahead of us.”

Charlie latched onto my sleeve and gave several sharp tugs. Any thoughts of Zoe’s attractiveness were quickly batted away. She was my daughter’s new coach, and I didn’t have time for those sorts of things.

“Our coach is a girl?”

Charlie looked as if she’d just seen a unicorn, and in a way, she had. Female coaches weren’t common, especially in more male dominated sports like hockey. Even Charlie herself was a rarity. There was just one other girl on the Puffins team and very few girls that they played against.

Personally, I was excited for my daughter to have a coach she could look up to and see herself reflected in. While we closely followed the Professional Women’s Hockey League, seeing a female hockey player on TV and seeing one in person were two completely different things.

It didn’t seem like the other parents shared my enthusiasm, though, exchanging skeptical glances. There were even some mutterings as they sized her up. Zoe, however, was unfazed, her attention completely on the kids now.

“Hockey is fun, but it’s hard work, and I promise to work just as hard as you guys. So, I’ve got one question for you. Are you all ready to shred some ice?”

The kids cheered as they eagerly followed her into the rink, oblivious to the tension from the adults. Right away, Charlie skated up to her new coach, staring up at Zoe as if the woman had hung the moon herself.

“Hi, I’m Charlotte. But you can call me Charlie. I play goalie like my dad.”

Zoe smiled, clearly amused by Charlie’s forwardness, and then squatted so they were at eye level. “Goal tender is an extremely important position. You definitely look like someone the team can count on.”

Charlie’s chest puffed up with pride, and she looked as if she might levitate off the ice. Her smile was so radiant, I could see it through her face mask all the way across the rink.

“Yes, ma’am. I am.”

Zoe laughed gently. “Call me Coach Zo or just Coach.”

“Yes, Coach.”

She turned to join the others at center ice, her expression now serious and focused. My girl knew when it was time to lock in.

Since it was only the first practice, Zoe kept the drills simple, most likely trying to suss out the children’s skill levels. Overall, the Puffins were a solid little team. A good chunk of the kids had been playing together since they were toddlers scrambling across the ice after the puck. Albeit, that had only been two years ago. But now they were at the age where they were starting to really understand the game.

While I watched Charlie, I kept finding my gaze wandering to Zoe. She moved around the rink effortlessly, clearly an experienced skater. Her tone was kind but still firm as she gave redirections she quickly followed with genuine praise. The kids seemed to be responding well to her coaching style so far.

“Let’s take a water break, and then we’ll finish up with a scrimmage,” she announced, skating over to the bench herself. “Charlie and Zack, switch into your goalie gear for me.”

Charlie barreled over to the door. By the time she made it to me on the bleachers, awkwardly toddling along on the rubber mats, I already had her pads and new goalie mask dug out of her bag.

We were a well-oiled machine by now, and had her gear switched out in mere minutes. Poor Zack was still struggling to get his right leg pad on, rolling around on the floor like a turtle stuck on its shell. I’d seen his mom rush off to get his little brother to the bathrooms right before Zoe had called for a water break.

“All set, Tot?” I lightly tapped the hard plastic of Charlie’s goalie mask and she nodded. “Good. I’m gonna go help Zack really quick. Remember—”

“Watch the puck, not the player,” she recited.

I smiled proudly. “Go get ‘em.”

Pushing myself up with a groan—metal bleachers really were not made for backs like mine—I made my way to Zack. He’d managed to get the other leg pad on, but now he couldn’t get up.

“Here ya go, bud.” I bent down to hook my hands under his arms and lifted him back up onto his skates. Once I was sure he was steady, I reached for his blocker and catcher gloves and helped him slide them on.

“You excited to try out playing goalie this year?”

“Yes, sir,” he said with a big grin. “My mama says you played goalie in the NHL. Is that true?”

“Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”

Or at least, that’s how it felt.

Zack looked at me the same way Charlie had looked at Zoe. “That’s so cool.”

“Zack. Are you ready?” Zoe asked, leaning against the wall.

I was old news at the prospect of getting to be in goal. “I’m ready, Coach!”

He did his best to ‘run’ to the door, which wasn’t the easiest in goalie gear. It was extremely amusing to watch, though.

Charlie was already in her goal, mucking up the crease like I’d taught her. Jeez, the little tot was gonna make me tear up at a damn kids’ practice.

Stepping up to the boards, I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Let’s go, Charlie!”

She gave a quick nod of her head in acknowledgement, the goalie mask bouncing a little, and then crouched into her ready position, focused now on the game at hand. I made a mental note to tighten her mask after practice.

The kids were rusty, and understandably so; for the majority of them, it was their first time back on the ice after months off for the summer. Not everyone had full-time access to a hockey rink like Charlie unless they wanted to pay exorbitant amounts of money on private rink time and personal trainers. There were a handful of parents that did, though. Those fully committed to hockey being their child’s life and—hopefully—future career.

While I would love to see Charlie go pro, I would never push her in that direction. She could play hockey for as long as it made her happy. And right now, she was utterly obsessed. Which, of course, made me pretty damn happy. If anything, her dedication to the sport is what kept me going when I started to question whether running a hockey rink was worth all of the effort. I’d do whatever I could to stay competitive with other rinks if it meant Charlie always had a place to play.

One of the newer players broke away with the puck, the defensemen scrambling to catch up to him. Charlie made minuscule adjustments as he swerved back and forth, looking for an opening before finally taking a shot.

Smack.

Right in the glove.

“There ya go, Tot! Nice save!”

I smiled to myself when she shimmied her shoulders in a little victory dance, but then it was back to business. 

The rest of the scrimmage followed in a similar pattern. I called out words of encouragement whenever a puck made it past Zack, and cheered just as loudly whenever he blocked the next three. Charlie didn’t let in a single goal.

Zoe blew her whistle to signal the end of the game and called the team to center ice for a chat. Parents and siblings began to shift, gathering their things and prepping to help their players remove gear. I was organizing Charlie’s regular mask and gloves to one side of the bag when one of the other dads, Tom, approached.

“Hey, Jeremiah. A couple of us fathers are gonna try to get together Friday night for a beer and to watch the game. You in?”

I pressed my lips together as I sat upright. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

While I liked the idea of spending time with the other dads outside of games, it just wasn’t feasible for me. There was no way I could spring it on my parents or Sadie’s mom at the last minute to watch Charlie. Besides, I doubted I’d be much fun if I was just thinking about my daughter all night and counting down until I got to leave and be with her again. No, it was best to just have a night in with my little girl.

“No worries, man.” Tom waved his hand. “We’ll catch you another time.”

I smiled politely, even though I knew the chances of that were slim, and waved him off as he returned to his wife.

The kids began to file out of the rink, and I quickly got to work helping rid Charlie of her equipment.

“Don’t take your mask off yet, Tot. I wanna get your chin strap tightened.”

I tossed her leg pads into the duffle and then attended to her mask, lightly lifting it so she’d tilt her head back. It was a quick and easy adjustment, the chin strap not too far off.

“Okay, there.” I sat back so I could see her. “Give it a good shake and see if that’s better.”

Charlie shook her head so hard it made me dizzy just watching her, giggling the entire time. But the goalie mask stayed put, not swaying an inch.

“Looks solid to me,” I said with a chuckle.

She quickly discarded the mask, her hair a wild, sweaty mess despite my attempts to keep it tamed in braids. With everything packed away, I handed Charlie a Gatorade and then hefted the duffle onto my shoulder. Uninhibited by the bulky bag, Charlie took off running to one of her friends. How she still had the energy for it was beyond me. That child was an Energizer Bunny.

I spotted Zoe near the boards, tucking away the cones she’d used for drills into a net bag. She looked up when I approached and sent me a smile, albeit a tired one.

“Hey. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Charlie’s dad.” I tilted my head in the direction she’d run off in.

Zoe stood up straight and took my outstretched hand in hers, giving it a polite shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie’s dad.” The corner of her lips quirked up in a hint of a grin.

Did she just dad-joke a dad?

I could feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up the back of my neck. “Sorry. Jeremiah. I’m Jeremiah.”

“Are you a big Seattle Cascades fan?” she asked, nodding toward my chest.

I glanced down at my hoodie, momentarily forgetting what I was wearing. Sadie had bought it for me right after I had been drafted to the team. I was surprised Zoe could even make out the faded graphic.

“Oh, uh, I used to play for them. I retired a couple years ago, though.”

“Ah, that’s right. Charlie said you were a goalie.” She tightened the net bag shut. “Well, at least you’re not one of those dads who thinks he knows everything because he played in high school on a tier two team.”

I let out a mix between a scoff and a laugh, which just made Zoe laugh, too.

“I know that kind very well, but no. You’re the coach, not me. So I’ll be keeping my mouth shut.” I squinted one eye and tilted my head back and forth. “Except for when it’s my daughter. I can’t say I won’t coach her from the sidelines, because I one hundred percent will.”

“I get that,” she allowed.

She hefted the bag over her shoulder, doing one last double check of the bench to make sure no one had left anything behind. I took that as my signal to find Charlie and head out.

“Well… I better get the kiddo home and fed.” I tapped my knuckles against the top of the boards. “Glad to have you, Coach.”

I turned and walked away before she could respond, inwardly cringing at how awkward of an introduction that was. God, I really needed to get out more. Maybe I should have taken up Tom on his offer after all.

Thankfully, Charlie was a quick distraction, colliding into me hard enough that I stumbled back a step.

“Daddy, that was the best practice ever. I love Coach Zo,” she sighed, face buried in my stomach, but I could still hear the smile in her voice.

“She’s a good coach,” I agreed, giving her a tight hug before pulling back quickly. “Whew! We need to get you home and in the tub. You stink, girl!”

Charlie laughed and just rubbed her head even further into my hoodie until I playfully pushed her away.

“Get away from me, Stinky.”

Once I was free from her grasp, I made a dash for the door. Her little feet pounded on the concrete as she chased after me, giggling the entire way.

“Come back! I’m going to make you stinky, too!”

Chapter 2

Zoe

“How were the little tikes?” Uncle Cal asked.

Even if he’d decided to give up the title of coach, he’d never stop loving those kids. Not that I could blame him. I’d only spent a few hours with them, and they’d all but stolen my heart. They just looked so damn cute skating around the ice in their tiny gear.

I pinned my phone between my ear and shoulder as I rummaged through the fridge. There was a jar of sweet and spicy pickles in it somewhere. Surely I hadn’t already eaten all of them.

“They were great! You weren’t kidding when you told me how talented they are. And that little Charlie? I’ve never seen a kid snag pucks out of the air like that.”

Nudging the milk carton to the side revealed the jar of pickles. While they weren’t completely gone, there weren’t many left. I’d have to remember to go to the grocery store soon to get more.

“Ah, Little Langfield. You met her father, right?”

I popped open the lid and then brandished my fork.

“Um, yeah. You failed to mention that I’d be coaching the child of a former NHL player.”

I could just imagine the innocent look he was undoubtedly wearing. The ‘Who me?’ look.

“How were the other parents?”

I groaned before biting down on a pickle slice with a satisfying crunch. “Just as I expected, honestly. You left me with big shoes to fill, and they aren’t so sure I’m up to the task.”

“They said that?”

“They didn’t have to say it. The looks they gave each other said enough.”

“Did you tell them you’ve played your entire life? All through college? That you were dra—”

“I shouldn’t have to lay out my entire hockey résumé in order to be taken seriously as a coach,” I grumbled as I leaned back against the counter. “It’s Mite League, for crying out loud.”

“I agree,” Uncle Cal amended. “Just give them some time, and they’ll see that you’re a thousand times better than me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he didn’t allow it, already changing the subject. Again.

“Aunt Peg wants to know if you’ll be coming over for dinner tomorrow. She’s got a whole meal planned out.”

When I first moved to Denver for college, my aunt and uncle had me over at least once a week for a homemade meal. While I obviously benefited from it, I knew it meant a lot to them as well. They’d never been able to have children and were up here in the mountains alone, so I became a surrogate daughter of sorts. Even though I was now nearly eleven years removed from college, I still did my best to visit as often as I could.

“Of course.” I glanced over at the Tupperware container on the counter next to me. “Tell her not to worry about dessert. I stress-baked way too many snickerdoodles today before practice.”

“You should’ve taken them with you. Won over the parents with your delicious cookies.”

It was definitely a thought. Maybe for the next practice I could bring a healthier option, like muffins. It’d be easy enough to make mini muffins in different flavors for the kids.

“Next time,” I promised. I nudged the pickle slices with my fork. “Thanks again for trusting me with the team.”

“I can’t think of anyone better for the job.”

My phone buzzed against my ear, signaling that I had another incoming call. I set the pickle jar down so I could check the screen. A picture of my best friend’s son smiled back at me.

“Jada’s calling,” I explained to Uncle Cal. “I’ll see you tomorrow with snickerdoodles in hand.”

“You’re the best!” he called out. “Tell Jada hi. We miss her and the family.”

“Will do.”

Switching to the video chat with Jada, I propped my phone up against the vase of fake flowers on the breakfast bar, able to properly eat my pickles now without the risk of spilling juice all over the floor.

“Just got Bash to bed,” Jada started, not even saying hello. Granted, we had just seen each other earlier today at work. Having your best friend be your boss may be off-putting for some people, but I loved getting to work at Jada’s bakery with her.

Now, she was sitting in her living room, curls already tucked securely into a silk bonnet.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me before he goes to bed?”

She just leveled me with a look. “You know he turns into an absolute pumpkin at seven o’clock sharp. Not even Fairy Godmother Zoe can stop the transformation.”

She wasn’t wrong. While I was by far the greatest godmother and auntie Bash could ask for… my magic only worked so well.

“I see you’ve got your post-practice pickles,” she said.

I laughed at my predictability. After rooming with me for just over six months in college, Jada had gotten into the habit of buying a jar of pickles every time she went to the store so that I never ran low. Back then, I had burned through a jar like no other with hockey practice or games every day. Nowadays, they lasted me a lot longer.

“I was going to wait to hear about how it went at work tomorrow, but Levi felt left out, so he wanted me to call you now.”

Her husband appeared then, handing her a glass of wine as he joined her on the couch, and then smiled widely at me through the screen. “Hey, Zo!”

Technically, I was the reason they were together. I’d convinced Jada to finally come to one of my hockey games, and she ended up sitting next to Levi. When she’d looked completely lost, he’d given her a play-by-play as the game went on. Despite his best efforts, Jada still didn’t understand a lick of hockey terminology; she’d been too distracted by Levi’s blonde, cherub curls and cerulean eyes.

Luckily for her, Levi was a snowboarder and not a hockey player, more interested in powdery snow than ice. Within a year, he had Jada boarding down black diamonds like she’d been doing it her entire life. They even named their son, Sebastien, after an Olympic boarder.

“So how was it?” Jada asked after she’d taken a sip of her drink.

I regaled them on the reception from parents, how well the kids had done, and added in Uncle Cal’s forgetfulness when it came to Charlie’s parentage.

Levi’s jaw dropped. “You’re coaching an NHL player’s child?! Does he play for Denver? What’s his name?”

Jada quickly shushed her husband.

“I swear, if you wake up our son…” She let her threat trail off.

Levi smiled sheepishly at her before sneaking a quick, apologetic peck to her cheek. They were so sickeningly sweet.

“Jeremiah Langfield. He played goalie for the Seattle Cascades, but I don’t know how long ago or anything.”

“Jeremiah Langfield?” Levi repeated, at least muffling his excitement somewhat this time. “He had an insane rookie year, but he retired just five years in.”

“Do you know why?”

Levi shook his head. “Nothing was ever officially stated.”

The lifespan of a professional career in sports was short enough, with most only making it through their early-thirties if they were lucky. If life had panned out for me like it was supposed to, and I’d gone pro, they would have had to drag my old, creaky body out of the rink. I couldn’t imagine willingly walking away early.

My curiosity was definitely piqued, but I couldn’t exactly walk up to Jeremiah and ask him point blank why he’d retired.

“But damn, that’s some serious pressure,” Levi said.

I took in a big breath and then let it out with a sigh. “Add on that she’s a goalie just like him. It’s not like I have the level of knowledge he does about that position. I was just a blueliner. The closest I got to being in the crease was that time a Washington State girl bulldozed me into the net.”

Jada’s brows rose in the most comically confused expression. “You might as well be speaking Latin. What even was that sentence?”

I just stared back at her. “Seriously? In all these years, you haven’t caught on to anything?”

“Honestly, I tend to tune you both out when you start talking hockey.”

She shrugged and I scoffed in offense. Levi took matters into his own hands, apparently starting a tickle attack based on Jada’s squeal and the video footage going shaky as she inevitably tried to escape. They were both laughing, though. When the camera finally settled on the two of them once more, the expression on their faces made me feel like I was witnessing something private, their gazes heated.

I had always thought I’d be like Jada or Uncle Cal and marry my college sweetheart, but that went to shit—along with everything else—the summer after I graduated. While Blake and I had only been together for a little over a year, I had been sure at the time that he was the one. He and Levi were two peas in a pod and double dates were a regular thing for the four of us. He joined me for dinner at Uncle Cal and Aunt Peg’s every week, came home to Miami with me to meet my parents, and we’d spent Christmas with his in Utah.

Then my world got turned on its head, and Blake hadn’t stuck around.

I cleared my throat before shoving a pickle in my mouth. “Well, I’m gonna sign off and give you two some alone time since the munchkin is asleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jada.”

That brought her attention back to me.

“Oh. Goodnight! I’m glad you had a great first practice, and I know it will only get better. You’ll win them over in no time.”

I smiled gratefully and gave them both a wave before ending the call.

I hadn’t even had a chance to put down my phone when an alarm started to go off. My reminder to make a payment on my medical debt.

Swiping open my bank app, the sight of my measly savings account had my stomach turning sour. Let alone when I did the mental math of what I’d have left for the month after the payment went through. I’d ask Jada tomorrow if there were any extra orders I could take over for her. While the commissions weren’t typically very big, it was money I didn’t have.

My fork and the pickle jar lay forgotten on the counter next to me. Not in the mood for them anymore, I sealed the lid back on and returned them to the fridge for next time.

Chapter 3

Zoe

I had accepted the fact that I would smell like pumpkin for the foreseeable future. We were barely into September, and the bakery had gone full fall flavors; Cinnamon, apple, and, of course, the infamous pumpkin spice. While I enjoyed it as much as the next person—especially a pumpkin spice muffin with cream cheese filling—I was always over the hype before the first leaf even fell.

“You know Levi and I have the means to help you,” Jada called out over the thrum of the mixer. It had already spit pumpkin batter at me twice, and I was ready to give it a nice thwack if it tried it again.

My stomach roiled uncomfortably, and I was glad I had my back turned to Jada. This wasn’t the first time she’d offered to help me outright with my debt, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Just like how she knew I wouldn’t ever take her up on it.

“As always, I appreciate the offer, but no. It wouldn’t fix the problem, because then I’d be owing you money. And while you would be much nicer to me than my debt collector, it’s not something I want between us.”

Jada was the closest friend—read: only friend—I had. Even if the money didn’t cause a rift between us, it would create a power imbalance. Whether it felt that way to Jada or not, it definitely would to me.

Jada heaved out a sigh, accepting defeat. For now, at least.

“I just received a large wedding order for December that you can take over. It’s the weekend before we go to Georgia to visit my family, so it’d honestly be a big relief to have it off my plate.”

I grinned at her. “I’m your girl.”

The front door chimed to signal the arrival of a customer, and Jada glanced toward the door before looking at me with pleading eyes, but I was already on the move.

“I got it.”

“This is why I love you!” she called after me.

While Jada owned the bakery, she would much rather stay behind the scenes baking in the kitchen or doing paperwork in the office. Any customer-facing tasks usually fell to me, which I know was another reason why she was so eager to hand over the wedding order. Did that make me the personality hire?

I pushed the swinging door open.

“Hi! Welcome to—” I froze. “Charlie?”

A pair of dark brown eyes just barely peeked over the display case at me, sparkling with recognition.

“Coach Zo!”

My smile widened as I approached the counter, leaning against the top of the case so she didn’t have to keep standing on her tippy toes.

“You work here?”

“Apparently, I can’t spend all my time at the hockey rink. I have to have a ‘real job,’” I sighed playfully.

Charlie turned to the woman behind her. “Nana, that’s my coach.”

The woman hardly looked old enough to bear the title of ‘Nana’, but there was a strong resemblance between the two. When the woman smiled, her dark eyes squinted in the exact same way Charlie’s did.

“So you’re the coach she’s been talking my ear off about.”

My cheeks flushed a little. “Suppose I am. I have to admit, though, I’ve been singing her praises as well.”

The woman affectionately brushed her hand over the top of Charlie’s head. “We’re quite proud of her.”

“As you should be.”

We’d only had a handful of practices, but it wasn’t hard to see that Charlie was a natural talent and had a genuine love for the sport. She reminded me of myself when I was younger. The second I had held a stick in my hand, it was all over. Hockey would always be my greatest love, even if it was also my greatest heartbreak.

“So what can I help the two of you with?”

“We’re having a girls’ day, and she convinced me to allow her to have dessert for lunch.”

Charlie didn’t even notice the look her nana gave her, too distracted by all the colorful options in the display case.

I nodded solemnly. “I’m a strong believer that desserts should be enjoyed at any time of the day. Not just after dinner.”

I could’ve sworn I saw the corner of Charlie’s lips twitch in a hint of a smirk. Her nana must have caught it, too, because she just let out a sigh that suggested she knew it was a losing battle and she’d give her granddaughter whatever she asked for. I bet Charlie knew it, too.

“But how do I choose just one?” Charlie wondered.

I stepped back from the counter to get a better look at what we had stocked. A majority of the case was filled with cupcakes, each topped with a fondant accent like leaves or pumpkins, and cookies larger than the palm of my hand.

“Well, we do have our sampler packs,” I offered up as a solution. “It’s six mini cupcakes in different flavors. Then you wouldn’t have to decide, and maybe you could even save a few for your parents.”

Her nana’s smile tightened, and I wondered if I’d suggested too much. She was probably just thinking of getting Charlie a cookie, not six cupcakes piled with icing on top.

“I think Daddy deserves a cupcake after work today,” Charlie agreed.

The older woman’s mouth softened as she looked down at Charlie, resting her hand on her shoulder.

“I can agree with you on that.” Her attention returned to me. “We’ll do the sample pack, then. Thank you.”

I sent her a small smile and excused myself to the back to retrieve the cupcakes. Jada was placing the pumpkin bundt cake in the oven and glanced up when I entered the kitchen.

“What’s our stock of mini cupcakes look like?” I asked.

She tipped her head to the industrial fridge in the corner. “I just stocked the bottom shelf this morning with our fall flavors, but there’s still a couple of the summer ones left from last week.”

I was quite partial to the summer flavors myself, so I grabbed a container of each to give Charlie and her nana options. With my hands full, I used my hip to push the kitchen door open.

“Turns out we still have some of our summer cupcakes or there’s our fall flavors.” I explained each flavor in turn. 

“Which one is your favorite?” Charlie asked.

“The lemon cupcake is my absolute favorite. The tart lemon with the sweet buttercream icing is”—I pretended to kiss my fingers—“chef’s kiss.”

“Well, I think we have to go with the summer flavors, then. Right, Charlie?” her nana asked, smiling down at her.

“Yes, please,” Charlie said.

I rang them up and made sure to give them my friends-and-family discount. Not that I told them. I had the feeling the older woman would refuse it, and I wouldn’t give her the opportunity. It was their special day after all.

Chapter 4

Jeremiah

Just call me Super-Dad.

I’d spent the morning at the rink in meetings and still managed to vacuum the entire house before Hurricane Charlie came barreling through the front door, my mother-in-law following in her wake.

“Daddy! You’re never going to believe it!” Charlie cried.

From the looks of it, she was definitely on a sugar high; pupils blown wide, crumbs clinging to her plump cheeks, and tiny body literally vibrating. I gave Terri a small look, but she just smiled amiably and shrugged.

I directed my attention back to my daughter.

“What’s that, Tot?”

“Nana and I went to the bakery for lunch and Coach Zo works there!”

My eyebrows rose higher. “Bakery for lunch?”

“Yeah. But, Daddy, did you hear me? Coach Zo works at the bakery.”

I chuckled. Clearly, I wasn’t paying attention to the correct part of her story.

“I heard ya, Tot. What a surprise running into her. I’m sure she was happy to see you.”

“I think so.” She held up a container of mini cupcakes, two still left in the six-pack. “She told me to save some for you and Mom.”

Her voice was soft, eyes now locked on the small swirls of light blue icing. I glanced at Terri before kneeling down in front of Charlie, encouraging her to look at me.

“That was very sweet of you to save them for us. How about I eat the one and then you and I can split the other? Mom would want us to share.”

“Even though I already had two?”

I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them and giving a slow nod as I took the container from her hands. I kept her sugar intake at a healthy level, and Charlie was always good about brushing and flossing. No cavities in sight. A few mini cupcakes weren’t going to hurt.

“Why don’t you go check on Delilah first? I vacuumed, so she’s been hiding out in your room.”

Charlie’s eyes widened again, this time in concern for her beloved bunny, and her bottom lip pouted out. “My poor baby.”

“Give Nana a hug before you go,” Terri said, bending down and opening her arms. “I’ve got to get home.”

Charlie bounded into her embrace and hugged her tight. “Bye, Nana. Thank you for the cupcakes.”

“Thank you for having a girls’ day with me.”

Terri placed a kiss to the crown of her head, and then Charlie was off, hurrying down the hall, but not so fast that she would startle Delilah. I braced my hands on my thighs as I pushed myself into a standing position and then joined Terri in the foyer.

“I didn’t tell her coach about Sadie,” I apologized.

Terri shook her head. “It’s not something you have to disclose every time you two meet someone new. Charlie handled it well enough.”

I didn’t bring up how it might have affected her. Charlie and I weren’t the only ones who had lost Sadie.

Terri’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I met her dark eyes. “You do such a great job of making Sadie still a part of her life.”

A lump appeared in my throat, and I struggled to swallow around it.

“I try.” My smile was small; it never felt like I talked about her enough. “I just want her to know her mom.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. Moments like today are inevitable. You can’t protect her from them all.” She patted my arm soothingly.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I can’t thank you enough for taking her today. I know she would’ve been content at the rink while I worked, but I wouldn’t have been able to watch her on the ice, so—”

“Thank you for letting me steal her for the day,” Terri interrupted. “You know I’ll watch her anytime.”

I tugged on the hem of my shirt while shifting my shoulders, the fabric feeling a little tight. Usually, I didn’t have to be at work very long on Saturdays, but with the hockey season starting up, there was a lot more to do than usual. When Charlie was little, it was easy enough to make her a pallet in my office and let her play with her toys while I worked. Now that she was bigger, it was impossible to keep her off the ice.

“Yeah, of course.” I reached for the door knob and held it open for her. “Drive safe, Terri.”

As always, I watched until she’d made it out of the driveway and sent one last wave. Then I headed to the kitchen and retrieved a glass for Charlie’s milk. One glass may not counter the effects of two and a half mini cupcakes, but the extra calcium wouldn’t hurt either.

Charlie returned and scrambled up onto the stool at the island.

“So, what flavors do we have?” I asked as I cracked open the container, sliding it over between the two of us along with her milk.

“This one is orange creamsicle and this one is lemon,” Charlie explained, pointing to each cupcake respectively.

My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you know lemon cake was your mom’s favorite?”

Sadie had wanted a lemon wedding cake so badly, but our mothers had convinced her to get a more generic flavor that everyone would enjoy. While she’d given in, I could tell she was disappointed, so I’d made sure that a personal-sized lemon cake was waiting for us in our hotel suite that night. We’d sat on the bed in our wedding outfits and ate every single crumb.

Charlie’s face lit up. “Coach Zo said it was her favorite, too.”

She grinned down at the cupcake as if it were the most magical thing she’d ever seen. And right then, it did feel pretty magical. Like Sadie was sending us some sort of sign that she was here, watching us.

“Then this is the perfect cupcake to split in Mom’s honor. What do you think?”

“Absolutely!”

I cut the cupcake in half and handed Charlie’s share to her. She took it carefully and then lifted it in the air.

“I hope you’re eating all the lemon cupcakes you want, Mommy. And with no tummy ache.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I held my half up and lightly tapped it against hers before taking a bite.

I could see why Zoe said this was her favorite flavor. The sweetness of the frosting balanced the tart lemon perfectly. It made me wish I’d had the whole thing instead of just half. Hell, I’d take a whole dozen of them.

“Wow! These are delicious.”

Charlie nodded her head adamantly. “We should get cupcakes more often.”

Her innocent smile didn’t fool me, but I just laughed. “We’ll see. Maybe we can come up with a deal where you get a cupcake if you save a certain number of goals.”

And I would be getting a cupcake for myself as well. Rooting for my daughter and stressing over a game—even a Mite League game—was exhausting. I deserved a treat, too.

Charlie held out her hand, her expression serious. I took her small, sticky hand in my own.

“Deal,” she said.

I finished off the creamsicle cupcake in one bite—not as good as the lemon, but still delicious—and then stole a quick sip of Charlie’s milk. That earned me a playful glare before she reclaimed the glass.

“Uncle Wes is going to be in town in a couple weeks,” I shared as I carried our empty plate over to the sink to rinse it off.

“For a game?”

“Yup. They’re playing Denver,” I confirmed. “And he said he has a ticket for his best girl ready to go.”

Wesley wasn’t biologically Charlie’s uncle, but he might as well have been my brother. We’d signed on with Seattle the same year and had hit it off right away. Every away game, we shared a hotel room, and he ate dinner at our house so often, Sadie just started setting the table for three every night.

He was the first person in the waiting room whenever Sadie went into labor, and he was right next to me in another waiting room whenever she had her accident. He was the one who held me together when everything fell apart.

My retirement from the NHL and move back to Denver hadn’t affected our friendship in the least, though. Charlie and I visited him in the summers, and he spent Christmases with us and our family in Denver.

“Not up in the box, though, right?” Charlie double-checked.

I shook my head. “Nope. He got you a spot next to the bench.”

Charlie did her little happy dance, and I wondered if Wes knew what he’d signed himself up for having Charlie sitting on the other side of the glass from him and the team.

Chapter 5

Zoe

I’d made my payment on time, so I hadn’t expected to see an email from the debt collector for another month. But there was that dreaded notification. I opened the email, eyes quickly scanning over it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

My voice echoed throughout my apartment as I stared at the screen, unable to believe what I was reading. They were increasing my monthly payment. Again. This time, by four hundred dollars. Not even taking on a wedding-sized order every month would make up that difference.

The pit in my stomach felt bottomless, just like the medical debt. Ten years later, and it was still haunting me.

My parents had offered to help me pay it off, along with my aunt and uncle, but I’d never allowed them to donate a cent. I already owed my Uncle Cal and Aunt Peg for all their help while I’d recovered from surgery. They’d housed me, driven me to doctor appointments and physical therapy, and put up with my miserable attitude. I would never be able to fully make that up to them, so I refused to add financial support to that as well.

No, I was an independent, thirty-one-year-old woman with a career who could handle paying off her own medical debt. Even if that meant scrimping in some areas. What those areas would be, I wasn’t sure at the moment. I’d already been living frugally since moving out on my own.

Those numbers just stared back at me from my screen, and the hopelessness crept into my chest.

Swiping the email app closed, I shoved my phone in my pocket and marched to my bedroom for a pair of shoes. There was no way I would spend my day in my empty apartment moping about this. If I was going to come up with a solution, I needed a clear mind, and the best way to reset my brain was to get on the ice.

I opened the door and took in a deep breath of the chilled air, the muscles in my neck and shoulders instantly relaxing at the smell of freshly resurfaced ice. One of my favorite perks of being the Puffins’ new coach was having a key to the ice rink. It was meant to be used whenever I arrived to set up practice if the owner wasn’t around, but surely, they wouldn’t mind me visiting for a half hour or so.

As I neared the rink, there were the familiar sounds of skates carving the ice and the slap of a blade meeting the puck. I had hoped the rink would be empty, but I was fine sharing if it was all right with the others.

A kid and their father were practicing in the goal at the far end. Surely, they would be fine with me claiming the other goal. I had just set down my bag when the kid dove for a save, her long, chestnut braids flying out behind her. Charlie.

She pushed herself back up with an ease I found impressive for someone of her size loaded down with goalie gear and dropped the puck before passing it back to her dad. Then her eyes locked on me.

“Coach Zo!”

Jeremiah turned around, and I raised my hand in a small wave. He waved back with an easy smile. Then he turned to say something to Charlie before they both skated over to me.

I rested my arms on top of the boards. “Getting some extra practice in, I see.”

“The grind never stops,” Jeremiah replied with a smile as he combed his loose curls back from his forehead. “You know how it is.”

I knew exactly what he meant. Any free time I’d had when I was younger was spent at the rink. Just one of many sacrifices we made as athletes if we were serious about hockey.

“What are you doing here?” Charlie asked as she removed her mask, head tilting in curiosity.

I pressed my lips together. “I had a bit of a rough morning, and skating always makes me feel better.”

“We’ll pack our stuff up, then, so you can have the rink to yourself,” Jeremiah said.

He glided toward the door to exit the rink.

“Oh, no. Don’t stop on account of me. I’m more than happy with just a little piece of the ice. You guys keep practicing,” I insisted.

“Why don’t you practice with us?” Charlie suggested. “You can play one-on-one with Daddy, and I’ll be goalie.”

It may have been several years since I’d properly played, but the competitive side of me refused to turn her idea down.

I looked at Jeremiah, raising my brows with a slight smirk. “Think you could take me? I know you’re used to being the one in the crease.”

His thick eyebrows lowered as he tilted his head down, eyeing me in a way that had a blush creeping up the back of my neck. What had I just agreed to?

“I’m a well-rounded player, thank you very much. I can sink pucks into the net just as easily as I can keep them out.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said.

I turned to get out my gear, grateful for the excuse to break the intense eye contact, and sat down to exchange my sneakers for skates.

“Oooh, Daddy, I think you’re in trouble.”

Jeremiah’s jaw dropped, and he grasped at his chest as if she’d shot him in the heart. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Tot!”

Charlie just giggled, replaced her helmet, and scurried off to the goal to muck the crease.

Jeremiah hung back until I had everything on, and then we both skated out to the face-off circle to the right of the goal. He set the puck down, and we positioned ourselves on either side, knees bent and sticks at the ready.

“On the count of three,” Charlie called out. “One… two… three, GO!”

Our sticks collided with the puck at the same time, trapping it between us. That was, until I released some pressure and Jeremiah nudged it far enough my way that I could hook my blade around it and drag it away, dodging to his goal-side. His legs were long, though, and he caught up to me in just two strides. When I tried to make a quick stop and pull it back, he snagged it from me and flicked it at the goal with ease. But Charlie was ready, crouching down to trap the puck beneath her glove at such a speed, I would have bruised both of my knees—even with pads—and been limping for weeks.

“Nice one, Tot!” her dad cheered.

She tossed the puck toward the same face-off circle, and we resumed our positions.

It’d been a while since I’d played a proper one-on-one with anyone besides Uncle Cal, and Jeremiah was much lighter on his feet, not as far removed from his hockey career as my uncle. Or me, for that matter.

Three face-offs ended the same way with us grappling for the puck and Charlie blocking our shots. While we were not holding back with each other, we were definitely considerate of the fact that there was a seven-year-old in the goal. That didn’t diminish her abilities, though. She looked like a contortionist out there, bending her body this way and that to get to the puck as fast as she could.

I’d thought I’d figured out Jeremiah’s go-to moves when he faked me out, bringing his stick back as if he were going to take a slap shot and then using the runner of his skate to knock the puck to the inside, and subsequently, behind me when I lunged forward in an attempt to stop him. The misdirection had apparently worked on Charlie, too. She’d moved to cover her left post, but Jeremiah had already skated to the right side and knocked it into the top shelf before she’d been able to react.

“That was a good one, Daddy!” Charlie grinned, not the least bit deterred by being scored on.

Jeremiah tapped his glove against the top of her helmet. “Snuck it by ya, didn’t I?” he teased affectionately.

All that affection disappeared as he joined me for the next face-off, circling around me with the puck before coming to a stop.

“Better luck next time, Cupcake.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up on the right side in a way that was equal parts endearing and irksome. I narrowed my eyes, the fire of competition swelling in my chest. He had no idea what he had just unleashed. I had to score a goal now.

Taking possession of the puck this time, I swept around the back of the goal. Jeremiah was hot on my tail, but not fast enough. I managed to slip the puck in between the post and Charlie’s stick as she reached out to block it.

Out of habit, I pumped my fist in the air. “Whoo!”

“She got you, Daddy.”

Jeremiah ignored Charlie’s chirping, his gaze locked on me.

“Tied game,” I sing-songed.

His eyes never left mine as he crouched down into his ready position, far less cocky than he had been just a few minutes ago.

We waited for Charlie to count down, and again, I was able to snag the puck before darting to the left. Jeremiah attempted to use the advantage of his long arms to steal the puck from me, his stick constantly hitting against mine or my skates. I zigzagged, trying everything I could to shake him long enough that I could line up for a decent shot.

I could see it: a shot from the left to the crossbar, just over Charlie’s shoulder. But then I was being lifted into the air, two solid arms wrapped around my middle.

“Hey!” I cried.

Jeremiah just laughed, his chest rumbling against my back as he turned me away from the goal. I tried to ignore the definition in his forearms and the feel of his strong, muscular torso behind me, but damn was it hard when he was holding me like this. And his deep laugh in my ear? Swoon.

I shook my head. No. He was a married man, and I was coaching his daughter. I could not be thinking about the abs and tight pecs he was totally hiding under his oversized t-shirt.

I shoved at his hands to release myself, and he finally relented, but by the time I’d turned around, he had already nabbed the puck and took off to the goal. I had no chance of catching up to him.

Charlie, however, was having none of it, and knocked his shot away with her stick.

“Daddy! Two minutes for holding. In the box,” she ordered.

She pointed her glove at the penalty box and eyed him. Jeremiah’s head fell back slightly as he let out an overly dramatic sigh before doing as he was told. I laughed softly to myself. Whoever his wife was, she was a lucky woman to have these two—and boy, did she have her hands full.

He continued the act, plopping down onto the bench and crossing his arms over his chest. I joined Charlie at the goal, lightly tapping my stick against hers.

“Thanks for having my back.”

She gave a sharp nod and then reached up to take off her helmet. Little baby hairs stuck to her face and neck.

I tilted my head to the bench. “What do you say we call it?”

Just that little bit of exertion, and I could feel sweat trickling down the nape of my neck. I was terribly out of shape. Maybe I needed to take Jada up on her offer of going to Pilates together. It would be impossible to get back to my collegiate fitness level, but it would do me good to exercise daily and not just at Puffins practices.

Charlie looked as if she might argue, but then the exhaustion won out, and she followed me over to the bench. Realizing where we were headed, Jeremiah exited the penalty box to join us. I wouldn’t have put it past Charlie to tell him to get back in and serve his full two minutes, but she let it slide.

I sat down on the bench harder than I had intended, my left leg giving out halfway through lowering me down. A small groan escaped at the collision of my tailbone and the cold metal.

“You sound like my daddy.” Charlie eyed her dad mischievously.

“Hey, now”—he pointed a gloved hand at her—“I’ll remember that when you’re retired and complaining about back pain.”

I nodded in agreement with him. “Hockey does a number on your body. But it’s worth it.” I sent her a wink.

Grabbing my water bottle, I guzzled down half of it before coming up for air.

“God, I wish concessions were open. What I wouldn’t give for a pickle right now,” I sighed longingly.

Jeremiah shoved Charlie’s hockey gear into a large duffle while she sat down between us to untie her skates. “Give me a second, and I’ll unlock it.”

I stared at him, my brain not fully comprehending the meaning of his words. Maybe I was so desperate for a post-practice pickle that I’d imagined him saying he’d get me one.

“You have a key to the concessions?”

“Yeah. It’s my rink,” he said as if it were obvious.

It most definitely was not.

How did I not know he owned the hockey rink? Uncle Cal just oh-so-conveniently forgot to mention that, on top of Jeremiah being a pro athlete. Or retired pro athlete. Whatever.

If Jeremiah felt me ogling him, he didn’t pay me any mind as he traded Charlie her slides for her skates, snapping guards into place over the blades and adding them to the massive bag. Despite its obvious weight, he slung it over his shoulder with ease as he stood.

“What sounds good to you, Tot?”

“Can we warm up the cheese for nachos?” Charlie asked, already hurrying ahead of him.

I rushed to replace my skates with sneakers, haphazardly tossing my things into my bag before following after them.

Jeremiah dropped the duffle by the door to the concessions and then dug a ring of keys out of his pocket, flicking through them until he found the right one. The second the stand was open, Charlie made a beeline to the fridge stocked with drinks and snagged a red Gatorade. Jeremiah held the door open so I could step in behind her.

She began to root around in one of the cabinets for the nacho chips. Successful in her search, she placed the bag and her drink up on the counter before climbing onto the stool. Jeremiah slipped behind us to turn on the cheese warmer.

“What position did you play when you were little?” Charlie asked, cracking open her Gatorade.

I rested against the counter next to her. “I was always a defenseman. All the way through college.”

“Did you ever get hurt checking someone?”

“Oh, definitely. But I had to protect my goal and my goalie, right?”

Next thing I knew, Jeremiah was holding out a dill pickle to me, the delicious savior floating in a pouch full of juice. I’d never been so happy.

“You are a saint,” I breathed out, eagerly tearing open the treat.

Jeremiah just chuckled as he took the bag of chips from Charlie and returned to the cheese dispenser to make her nachos.

That first burst of juice as I bit into the pickle had me closing my eyes in ecstasy. Water and Gatorade were great and all, but nothing hydrated you quite like a pickle.

“So, pickles are your hockey thing?”

I opened my eyes to find Jeremiah watching me with an amused smile on his face. My cheeks flushed a little at having been caught nearly moaning over a pickle. Just casually sucking on an extremely phallic-looking vegetable. Don’t mind me.

“I, um…” I coughed a little on the juice, which had been the nectar of the gods just moments before, but was now my worst enemy.

At least it wasn’t dribbling down my chin or anything. I reached for a napkin just in case.

“Yeah. I dehydrated easily as a kid, so my mom always had a pickle on hand to help me get my electrolytes back quickly.” I shrugged. “Then it just became tradition to have one after practice or a game.”

I didn’t have a reason to be embarrassed; nearly every hockey player had some sort of ritual they did before or after a game. Mine just happened to also be extremely helpful in rehydrating myself and avoiding muscle cramps.

“What’s yours?” I turned it back on him. “Or what was yours?”

Jeremiah carried the tray of nachos over and slid it in front of Charlie before redirecting his attention to me.

“Doodling,” he answered. “I’ve got notebooks full of random little cartoons. It was something to keep my hands busy when the nerves got to me.”

“They’re really good,” Charlie chimed in before shoving a cheese-coated chip into her mouth.

“They’re all right.”

“Do you still draw?” I asked, taking another—much smaller—bite of my pickle.

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

He shifted from one foot to the other, oozing discomfort, so I dropped it. Some routines could be extremely personal, and I didn’t want to pry.

“All right, Charlie girl. What’s your hockey thing?”

“I always put fresh, purple tape on my blade, because it was my mom’s favorite color. She passed away when I was three.”

Oh shit.

When Charlie had come into the bakery, I’d suggested she share the cupcakes with her mom and dad when she got home. Why the hell did I make that assumption? But she had responded so gracefully, I’d had no idea. It did explain the change in her nana’s demeanor, though.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Charlie. That’s very special, though, that you honor her in that way.”

While her smile wasn’t as big as normal, it was still there.

We finished up our snacks and discarded the trash. I helped Jeremiah make sure everything was cleaned up and the cheese warmer had been turned off before we exited the concessions.

“Hey, Tot. Why don’t you go to the restroom before we head out?” he suggested. “We’ve gotta make some stops on the way home.”

“Okay.” She turned to me. “Don’t leave until I get back, okay?”

“Won’t move an inch,” I promised.

Assured that I would stay, she turned and hurried off to the restroom around the corner. Jeremiah turned to me once she was out of sight, an apologetic look on his face. I wanted to wipe it right off. If anyone needed to apologize, it was me for being so careless.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you at the first practice when I introduced myself.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t owe anyone that.”

I couldn’t imagine experiencing such a devastating loss. I’d been lucky to have never had anyone close to me pass. But a parent? And at that young of an age? Or God forbid, my spouse. Someone I planned on growing old with.

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away.

“I’m so sorry the two of you had to go through that.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled softly.

Desperate to lift the mood before Charlie returned, I nodded in her direction. “You’ve got an amazing daughter. And beautiful. I can only imagine what her mother looked like.”

He followed my gaze, and a proud and affectionate smile graced his lips, chasing away at least some of the sadness.

“There’s a lot of Sadie in her. It’ll catch me off guard sometimes. She’ll give me a look or say something that Sadie would have totally said, and it’s like she’s there with us again.”

“Was her mom as sassy as she is?” I teased lightly. “That girl chirps like no other.”

Especially when it came to her dad.

“Oh yeah. Sadie had no problem putting someone in their place.” He tilted his head to the side. “Granted, I give it right back to Charlie, so I think I’m partially to blame for encouraging it. Just have to hope that mouth doesn’t get her in trouble in the future.”

“Oh, it totally will, but she’s a tough cookie. Besides”—I waved my hand—“she’s the goalie. Nobody will be able to touch her unless they want the whole team on them in seconds flat.”

Charlie came running out of the bathroom then and skidded to a stop next to us. I held my hand out for a fist bump.

“Thanks for letting me join you two today. It was much more fun than skating by myself,” I said.

She tapped her knuckles against mine. “Thanks for keeping up with Daddy. It was fun to see him struggle.”

She wore the most mischievous grin as she peeked up at her dad. Jeremiah just rolled his eyes as he picked up her bag and then nudged her shoulder to get her moving. His eyes met mine, and we exchanged a knowing look.

Yup. Grade A chirper.

Chapter 6

Jeremiah

Charlie skipped along beside me, proudly wearing her navy jersey with SANDERS stitched across her shoulders. Any other day, she’d be repping her burgundy Denver jersey, but we weren’t Denver fans tonight.

Wes had gotten us access passes so that we could visit him before the game and away from the crowds. Once our tickets had been scanned and we’d passed through the metal detectors, we turned in the direction of the tunnels. I shot a quick text to Wes to let him know we were on our way. Charlie wasn’t even fazed by the towering security guard, happily displaying her access pass and then tugging me along whenever he opened the doors.

We’d barely made it around the corner when Wes’s unmistakable voice boomed off the cinderblock walls.

“Charmander!”

Charlie left me in the dust, barreling down the hall to Wes who snatched her up easily and hefted her onto his hip.

“Where’d you get that jersey?” he asked, tugging on the shoulder so he could see the back.

Charlie giggled. “You gave it to me for my birthday, silly!”

“Oh! Right!” Wes played along. “I’ve got good taste.”

I rolled my eyes affectionately as I finally caught up to them. Wes turned his blinding smile to me and held his hand out. I clapped my palm against his before tugging him in for a quick side hug. With his skates on, he had an extra inch or two on me, causing me to have to look up in order to make eye contact with either one of them.

“She demanded I let her wear it to school, so if there’s any marker smudges or jelly on it, that’s on her.”

“I kept it clean. I promise!” Charlie held both of her arms out for us to see. “I was super careful.”

Wes placed a solid kiss to her temple. “Of course you were, Char.”

She still gave her jersey another once over just to be sure. Then she draped her arms back around his neck.

“Feeling ready for the game?” I checked, tucking my hands into my pockets.

Wes let out a huff as he ran his free hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face. “As ready as I can be. Donny got into it with a guy the last time we played Denver, and he’s out for blood, so we’ll see how it goes.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d played against Donny Ventris enough times to know that he’d be in the penalty box plenty tonight and would most likely leave with a black eye for a souvenir. The universal rule in hockey was that no one touched the goalie, so I’d been safe from him for the most part, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t tried. Wes had always been there, though, to set him straight with a good knock to the jaw. Now they were on the same team, which meant Wes was at least safe from ending up on the other end of Donny’s fist, but at the risk of being on the penalty kill more often than he’d like.

“Yo, Sandman! Time for warm-ups!” a player called from down the hall, too far away for me to determine who it was. Granted there were so many new guys now that I hardly knew even a quarter of the team.

Wes waved him off before turning back with a heavy sigh. “All right, Charmander. I’ll see ya on the bench. You cheer extra loud for me.”

“I’m sure you’ll hear her. Even through the glass,” I teased.

They gave each other one more big squeeze before Wes set her down, and she took my hand instead.

“Give ‘em hell!” I called out.

“Yeah! And stay on your feet this time!” Charlie added.

Wes narrowed his eyes at her as he backed down the hall, but he still had that adoring smile plastered on his face.

As soon as he turned, I held out my fist, which Charlie happily bumped with her own.

We headed back to the main area of the arena and made a pitstop at the concessions for popcorn and drinks before going to find our seats. Like he’d promised, Wes had placed us right next to the Away Team Bench so Charlie could harass him all night like the little menace she was. At least someone else would be on the receiving end of her chirping, and I’d get a break for once.

“No way. Can’t be.”

I froze. While it had been a couple years since I retired, there were still some die-hard NHL fans that would recognize me when I was out and about, even here in Denver. Granted, living in a big city and regularly attending games didn’t exactly help people forget. It never bothered me, though, as long as they kept my family out of it and let Charlie be. She didn’t choose to have a retired pro athlete for a father.

I shifted forward in my seat as I turned, so my body would block her from the fan’s view. My cordial smile slipped the second I recognized Zoe, decked out in a Denver jersey and matching baseball cap. She had her hair tied back in a messy bun like it had been that first practice when she’d introduced herself to the team and their families.

It hit me, then, that I had one hundred percent been giving her the up-down, and I quickly forced my eyes to meet hers, hoping my cheeks didn’t turn pink and give me away.

“Hey!” I cleared my throat when my voice came out a touch too high. “What are you doing here?”

She pointed to the empty seat next to me, an amused tilt to her lips. “This is my season ticket spot.”

“You’re kidding.”

Out of all the seats in the arena, she just so happened to have the one right next to us. What were the chances of that?

Zoe laughed lightly. “Unfortunately, my guilty pleasure is harassing the Away team. Usually Uncle Cal comes with me, but he’s busy tonight.”

I moved my elbow off the armrest to give her room as she sat down. “And you didn’t have anyone else to take his place?”

A boyfriend, perhaps?

“Nope. My best friend doesn’t know a lick about hockey, despite many years spent trying to teach her.”

“Well, I guess you lucked out then, because you get me and Charlie.” I smiled, more pleased with the situation than I should be.

Charlie had been too distracted searching for Wes among the swarm of white jerseys entering the rink to notice Zoe. I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Tot. Look who’s here.”

Zoe leaned forward on her elbows to smile around me at Charlie. “Hey, Charlie girl.”

Charlie whipped around so fast, her dark hair hit me in the face.

“Coach! You’re sitting with us?”

“Apparently so!”

“Look at that. Now you’ve got all your favorite people here,” I said.

As if he sensed Charlie’s attention straying, Wes skated up to the glass and bent down to eye level with her. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when, instead of blowing her a kiss, he scrunched up his nose and stuck his tongue out. Charlie returned the expression and beat her palm against the glass a few times before grinning at him.

“Old teammate?” Zoe asked.

“And best friend. Sometimes more like an annoying little brother.”

Once Wes left to start his stretches, Charlie focused back on Zoe.

“Uncle Wes gave me this jersey for my birthday. It has his name and number on it.”

She pulled her hair to the side to show it off. Zoe leaned closer to fully inspect the jersey, and the scent of her perfume wafted over me—a delicious blend of vanilla and cinnamon. The combination reminded me of nights spent curled up by the Christmas tree with fresh sugar cookies that were actually meant for Santa. It was utterly intoxicating.

Nope. I needed to put a full stop to that train of thought right away.

I also needed to stop noticing how beautiful Zoe was. And I definitely needed to stop thinking about how she’d felt when I’d made the spur-of-the-moment—and extremely stupid—decision to wrap my arms around her when we’d played one-on-one.

There were so many reasons I couldn’t go down that path.

One, I didn’t have the time to pursue anything romantic. Not as a single father of a very energetic seven-year-old. Any attempt at a romantic relationship wouldn’t be fair, not if I couldn't give Zoe the time she deserved. Second, and most importantly, Zoe was Charlie’s coach and had quickly become one of her idols. Pursuing any-thing with Zoe could put the quality of their relationship at risk, and Charlie would always come first.

No, it would be best if I kept our interactions as cordial as possible and kept all of those inappropriate thoughts squashed.

Which was really hard to do when Zoe’s knee was pressing against my own.

“I’m a Denver fan myself, but I’ll admit, that’s a really nice jersey,” Zoe complimented. “I bet you’re very excited to have your uncle in town.”

She sat back upright, and I released the breath I’d been holding.

“Does he get to stay very long?” she asked, her question directed at me now.

“He’s spending the night so he can have breakfast with Charlie before they head back out on the road. But he’ll be visiting for Christmas.”

I should have known the mention of Christmas would have Charlie’s attention, even though we were still a good three months out.

“Daddy, don’t forget to order the gingerbread kits this year. You promised we’d build a gingerbread house,” she reminded me.

“A gingerbread kit?” Zoe scoffed. “You need the real thing. The icing in those kits is terrible, and it always ends up falling apart. I can bake you some fresh gingerbread and make you a batch of the stickiest icing you’ve ever seen.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really.”

Charlie did a little happy dance before getting distracted by Wes knocking his stick against the glass on his way back to the locker room. But my attention was still on Zoe. 

“Thank you,” I murmured softly.

She leaned toward me, and I fought tooth and nail not to get caught up in her scent again. Gingerbread houses… the smell of cinnamon and vanilla… sharing Santa’s cookies with Z—

“We just have to hope that my memory is better than yours or we’ll both be on the chopping block,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“I don’t think she’s going to let us forget.”

The entire arena was vibrating with energy. The game was tight, and there’d been several near-fights, but no one had fully committed to one. Wes had taken a couple hard hits, and when one had knocked him down to the ice, Charlie had scolded him for not staying on his feet like she’d told him to, even if there was no way he could hear her over the crowd.

More often than not, Zoe had been sitting literally on the edge of her seat. Unless the puck was loose in front of either goal. Then she’d stand up, as if that would help her see through the mass of bodies.

We were halfway through the third period with Seattle ahead by one goal and a face-off in Denver’s defensive zone. Charlie stood with her nose pressed to the glass, and Zoe had her hands in a prayer position. Either way was a win for me; Seattle had been my family at one point, but I was a Denver fan, born and raised.

The puck shot out, and Wes quickly got a blade on it, but he struggled to get his feet under him enough to do anything about it. A Denver player easily snatched it off his stick and made a break to the goal, the Seattle defense struggling to catch up to him. He wound his arm back and…

Direct shot into the goalie’s glove.

The whistle blew and the teams returned to their benches for a media break. Zoe finally sat back in her seat, but I could still feel the pent-up energy radiating off of her.

This break, they decided to go with the classic Kiss Cam. I’d never cared for the tradition; the secondhand embarrassment was too strong for me. While there were always a handful of couples excited to be chosen and more than happy to show off their affections, there were still enough cringe-worthy couples to make it uncomfortable.

“Daddy, look!”

To say I was horrified to find my own face staring back at me from the jumbotron with a frame of hearts around it was an understatement. Add in the fact that the camera was focused on me and Zoe, and I was ready to pull a Coldplay Kiss Cam move and duck down behind the boards if I thought I could fit.

Instead, I shook my head no, trying my best to signal to the cameraman that we were not a couple. In my peripheral vision, I could see Zoe doing the same, but I didn’t dare look at her directly in fear of encouraging the crowd to cheer any louder. We were already getting some boos for taking so long.

Was the idea of kissing Zoe appealing? Yes. Did I want to kiss her in front of my daughter and a stadium full of strangers? Hell no. Did that go against my earlier decision to not think of Zoe in that way? One hundred percent.

A small hand cupped my face, interrupting my internal panic, and Charlie planted a massive kiss to my cheek. The boos quickly turned into awws, and the screen finally switched to a different couple who didn’t hesitate to lock lips.

I’d never been so grateful for my daughter. When I turned to face her, she was giggling like a little fiend. I cupped the back of her head and planted a kiss on her crown.

“Nice save, Tot.”

“Making saves on and off the ice,” Zoe added, but there was a tightness to her voice.

Steeling myself and accepting the fact that my face was flushed with no hope of hiding it, I looked at Zoe.

“I’m pretty sure we would have had the entire arena coming after us without her quick thinking,” I said.

Zoe nodded. “Oh, definitely. We were on the brink of a riot.”

The ref’s whistle broke the slight tension between us as the game resumed. That didn’t mean I missed the slight blush on Zoe’s cheeks, though.

Chapter 7

Jeremiah

Charlie had barely stayed awake long enough for Wes to make it to our house after his post-game ice bath. She’d been so exhausted that he’d carried her to her bedroom to tuck her in. Meanwhile, I prepped his favorite protein shake for him. I was working on my own when he joined me in the kitchen, a pleased smile on his face.

“God, I don’t know how you handle her cuteness on a daily basis.”

I handed him his shake with a chuckle. “She is pretty damn cute.”

“She fell asleep on my chest, and I thought for sure I was stuck there when she started snoring. I didn’t even know snoring could be so adorable.” He took a long drink of his shake and then smiled around the straw at me. “Peanut butter and banana? You know me so well.”

I turned off the blender and retrieved a reusable straw for my own—much smaller—shake, shrugging. “I always have it on hand.”

“God, if you were queer, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

A laugh burst out of me unexpectedly at that, and I slapped my hand over my mouth, glancing back toward the hall. We both waited to see if any sound came from Charlie’s room, although I highly doubted she would wake up even if a bulldozer drove through the house. She was a deep sleeper to begin with, and it had been quite an exciting evening after an already long day at school.

Coast clear, we moved to the couch in the living room. I claimed a spot on one end while Wes sprawled out on the other, taking up two cushions as he lounged back on the throw pillows.

“I’m sure there are plenty of men and women who would happily marry you and have your favorite post-game shake waiting for you,” I said.

Wes’s eyebrows pulled together, and he scrunched his nose in disgust as he continued to slurp down his shake, the liquid already halfway gone.

Love and relationships were areas in which Wes and I were vastly different. He never kept anyone around longer than a few weeks. Somehow, he’d only gotten worse with age. Where other players were beginning to settle down and start families, Wes just seemed to jump from one person to another at a faster rate. By the time I learned their name, he’d already moved on to the next. It’d gotten to the point where I just stopped asking.

To say his dating habits surprised me would be an understatement. Wes constantly talked about wanting to be a dad. I’d expected him to be married and have an entire gaggle of children by now. How much he loved Charlie just showed how great of a father he would be.

“Speaking of women. Who was the blonde babe you got put on the Kiss Cam with?” Wes wiggled his eyebrows at me, not-so-subtly changing the focus of our conversation. “I saw the three of you chatting it up all night.”

I ignored the surge of protectiveness that rose up when he referred to Zoe as a ‘babe’.

“That’s Charlie’s new hockey coach,” I answered, trying to keep my voice and expression nonchalant.

His eyes widened. “That’s Coach Zo? Why didn’t you kiss her, then?”

“Did you miss the part where I said she’s my daughter’s coach? That’s highly inappropriate.”

Wes leveled me with a look.

“Dude. This isn’t like in the NHL where you can’t date team staff. She’s your daughter’s youth hockey coach.”

Now it was my turn to avoid eye contact and sip silently on my shake. He wasn’t wrong.

But that still didn’t negate the fact that a relationship was not in the cards for me. Zoe or not. I needed to be there for Charlie. A relationship would take precious time away from her, and I’d already missed out on too much time when I’d been in the league.

Wes adjusted on the couch so he was sitting up now, his elbows resting on his thighs as he tried to get me to look at him. “You know you don’t have to live like a monk, right? If someone makes you happy, you’re allowed to move on.”

His voice was soft, but he might as well have yelled it. The words hit hard.

It’d been four years. Four years and nine months to be exact.

God, had it really been almost five years without Sadie?

It suddenly felt as if someone had shoved a chunk of dry ice in my chest, and my free hand instinctively moved for my back pocket, searching for the small sketchbook I kept on me. Wes hurried to place his now-empty glass on the coffee table while simultaneously moving closer.

“Jay.”

His voice sounded far away even though I knew he was right there. He pressed his hand firmly against my chest. I sucked in a breath.

“Tell me three things you can feel,” he instructed.

“Your hand. It’s cold from the shake,” I said.

He nodded encouragingly.

“The couch,” I continued. I stroked my thumb along the smooth cover of the sketchbook. “My book.”

“Good.”

It wasn’t a full-blown panic attack, but it easily could have been had Wes not been with me. I’d had more than my fair share of them after the accident. It seemed like anything could trigger them, from Sadie’s hairbrush on the bathroom counter to a car engine revving. Sometimes, just the sight of Charlie had sent me into a spiral as I worried about what her life would be like growing up without her mother. Worried that I wouldn’t be enough for her.

“Sorry,” I breathed out, feeling my heart rate slowly return to normal. “I just realized it’s almost been five years since…”

Wes pressed his lips together as he removed his hand from my chest. We both sat there quietly, acknowledging our shared grief.

“There’s no rulebook on how you’re supposed to navigate life after. I’m sorry if I was too pushy.”

I reached over to pat his leg. “It’s okay. I need a good push every now and then,” I assured him. “And I know you have the best of intentions. For me and Charlie.”

He smiled even if it was small.

“You’re my favorite people in the world. Of course, I want the best for you. But you get to decide what that is.”

Chapter 8

Zoe

“I brought muffins! Meet me over by the bleachers.”

That sent the Puffins players scrambling across the ice, their energy suddenly renewed, even though they’d just played one hell of a season opener. Their parents awaited them at the exit of the rink, applauding and cheering for their win.

The pride had to be written all over my face, because my body was buzzing with it. That magical feeling when all the hard work pays off. The kids had given it their all—they’d given me their all—and I was beyond honored to be their coach. I could see why Uncle Cal had coached for so long and been so reluctant to give it up. This was a feeling I could definitely get used to.

I grabbed my bag and followed after the team at a more leisurely pace. While my boots had decent traction, I didn’t fully relax until I’d safely made it out of the rink and onto the concrete. A few parents stopped me to congratulate me as well, which just warmed my heart even further. It had been no secret that many of the parents were skeptical of me being the new coach—some more than others—but I liked to think that I was proving to them just how capable I was.

I’d barely set my bag down to retrieve the Tupperware of chocolate-banana muffins I’d made last night before I was swarmed once more by the kids. The muffins were packed full of protein with Greek yogurt, oats, and eggs. Add in a little potassium to help avoid muscle cramps, and they were the perfect postgame treat. And what kid didn’t love a muffin?

“Thank you, Coach Zo!”

“Ooh! Muffins!”

“Chocolate? Yes!”

I made sure every player had one before I addressed their families. “I made plenty, so feel free to grab one if you’d like.”

The players’ siblings didn’t hesitate to snag one, and a few parents ambled over, murmuring thank yous when I handed them a muffin as well.

“There aren’t any pickles in them, are there?”

I looked up to see the amber eyes of Jeremiah, and my stomach did a little flip at the sight of his crooked grin.

“No.” I laughed softly, shaking my head. “No pickles. I get that not everyone is a fan.”

I handed him a muffin and bit the inside of my cheek when his fingers brushed against mine. Ever since the hockey game and our awkward Kiss Cam experience, I’d caught myself wondering what it would be like to actually kiss him. And that was one hundred percent not a thought I should be having about one of my kids’ parents.

Even if he was single.

And had this endearing, gentle giant thing going for him.

And was sexy when he got competitive.

But no. He’d lost his wife not even five years ago. Dating was probably the last thing on his mind, especially with Charlie. She was his priority.

Jeremiah peeled back the wrapper and popped the entire muffin into his mouth. I watched as his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his thick throat. The soft moan that left him had my cheeks burning. God, he was not making this easy. I averted my gaze and tugged down on the brim of my hat in a feeble attempt to hide my blush.

“Cupcakes, muffins…” he listed. “Is there anything you can’t make?”

“Uh, macarons,” I answered, snapping the lid back onto the Tupperware. “They are extremely picky. Measurements, oven temp, humidity. Anything slightly off, and they’re messed up.”

With no other choice, I returned the empty container to my bag and then turned to face him, strictly keeping my eyes on his. Damn it, he had such beautiful eyes. The color of golden honey.

“Coach Zo.” Keira’s mom, Jane, joined us. “Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?”

Jeremiah turned his charming smile on her. “Not at all. We were just talking about how good her muffins are.”

His eyes widened at the inadvertent innuendo, and I hid a snort behind my hand, disguising it as a cough.

“Daddy, help!” Charlie cried out behind us. “My braid is stuck in the Velcro!”

Saved by Charlie. Again.

“Excuse me.” He sent us each one more smile before darting off to help get Charlie out of her pads.

If Jane noticed his embarrassment, she didn’t give any sign, instead diving into her original reason for approaching me.

“I just wanted to say thank you. Keira adores you, and she’s grown so much in the last month under your coaching. It means a lot to have a female coach.”

She smiled warmly at me and I feared that my cheeks may end up permanently pink.

“Maybe I would have stuck with hockey as a kid if I’d had role models like you to look up to,” she said.

“You played hockey?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it was nothing. Mostly pond hockey with my brothers and their friends.”

“Pond hockey players are still hockey players,” I insisted. “Do you still play with Keira?”

“When we visit my parents, yes. She’ll get me out there on the ice.” She let out a wistful sigh. “I’ll admit, I miss it. If there was any opportunity for me to play now, I’d take it.”

“There’s rec leagues, isn’t there?”

“Yes, but they only offer co-ed teams. I don’t need a big guy whining at me, because I checked him into the boards too hard. I’d rather be in a women’s league where they can give it right back, you know?” She winked at me.

I laughed with her, but the gears were already turning in my head. We chatted a little longer about her experiences trying to find a place to play before Keira and her father joined us.

“I think these two are ready to get home.” Jane reached out to place her hand on my arm. “It was so lovely getting to talk to you.”

“You, too! It’s always nice to connect with another female player. Pond hockey or not,” I said, my smile warm.

They all waved goodbye, and a quick glance around showed that they were the last of the Puffins team to leave. Except Charlie and Jeremiah.

Even though Charlie had been stripped out of her gear and it’d been packed away, they’d settled in to watch the next game. It looked to be two of the fourteen-and-under teams. Jeremiah looked up and smiled as I slid onto the bleachers next to him.

“Sooo… I might have a kind of crazy idea,” I said.

His brows lifted just a hint, and I took that as my green light.

“Have you ever considered starting a women’s rec league?”

Now his eyebrows pinched together. “I’d thought of having rec leagues here, but”—he waved his hand around—“practically every rink in Denver has them.”

“But they don’t have women’s leagues.”

His mouth opened and closed.

I continued on. “Keira’s mom was just talking to me about how the only way she can play rec is on a co-ed team. And these co-ed teams have these stupid”—I glanced at Charlie—“I mean, ridiculous rules. Like requiring a woman to touch the puck before it can be scored.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Charlie commented from Jeremiah’s other side.

Jeremiah smiled affectionately down at her as he draped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side. “You’re right, Tot. It doesn’t.”

He pursed his lips as he stared off at the game in front of us, but I could tell he was rolling the idea around in his head.

“If I do start one, would you help me?”

I wanted to say yes, but the logical part of my brain kicked in. If I was going to be able to make payments on my medical bill and also afford the basic costs of living, I needed to spend what free time I did have finding ways to make money. Possibly another part-time job.

“I’d love to, but I… I don’t really have the time.”

“I’d pay you.”

My mouth dropped in shock. Had he read my mind?

“If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it properly. Which means I need the guidance of a female hockey player to make sure this league is one where women feel comfortable and seen.” He glanced down at Charlie, and she grinned up at him. Then he looked back at me. “Your input would be invaluable, Zoe. And it was your idea to begin with. You deserve the credit.”

I still didn’t know what to say. I’d taken the coaching position because Uncle Cal had asked me to, and I could never say no to him. The fact that it paid, even just a little, was also a factor. But if I was being honest with myself, it was because it gave me the opportunity to dip my toes back into the hockey world with the safety net of being a coach and not a player.

Helping Jeremiah plan and run a women’s hockey league would be another step. I’d be providing an opportunity for women like me who still wanted to strap on a pair of skates and sink a puck into the net every now and then. And I would get paid, too.

“I’ll do it.”

His face brightened, and he graced me with that beautiful smile of his that reached all the way up to his eyes. That’s when it hit me: I had just agreed to spend more time around a man that I was becoming increasingly attracted to and shouldn’t be.

Chapter 9

Zoe

Grease soaking through the paper bag was how you knew the onion rings were delicious. My mouth had been watering the whole drive to the rink. Jeremiah and I were meeting to start brainstorming for the women’s rec league. He’d asked if I’d stop and get lunch since he was in meetings all morning, and I wasn’t strong enough to say no to smashburgers and onion rings.

I carefully adjusted the drink carrier and takeout bag in my hands to open the door. The last thing I needed was a grease stain or spilled soda on my shirt. The amount of clothing I had that didn’t have some sort of stain from baking was dwindling quickly. Thankfully, the door was already unlocked, saving me the trouble of having to dig out my key. That would have definitely spelled disaster.

Voices echoed from the rink; a figure skating instructor yelling out to her student above a symphonic piece. Figuring Jeremiah was not overseeing them, I turned in the direction of his office. He spotted me through the open door and quickly rounded his desk.

“Here. Let me take something,” he offered, hands already outstretched.

I passed him the drink carrier, less confident in my abilities to keep the liquid inside the cups than our food in the bag. He cleared off a space on his desk and set down the drinks before he moved his laptop to the shelf behind him. Smart man.

I sat down in one of the two extra chairs and started to unpack our burgers when he slid a twenty-dollar bill across the desk to me.

“No.” I pushed it back. “You don’t need to pay for lunch.”

He placed his large hand on top of mine, successfully stopping me.

“I’m paying, Zoe. I was the one who asked, and you saved me from having to live off of the stale crackers in my desk drawer.”

The look he gave me made it clear that he wouldn’t be happy until the money was in my possession.

“Okay.”

He removed his hand, and I took the money, trying not to miss his warm touch. I wasn’t supposed to be doing that.

With the money securely in my pocket, Jeremiah finally relaxed back into his seat and claimed a burger and side of onion rings. He wasn’t kidding about how hungry he was. I’d barely gotten my burger unwrapped, and he’d already downed half of his. But once I took a bite, I understood why. I’d never had such a juicy smashburger before in my life, and whatever sauce they put on it, I was in love.

“You know I’m really impressed by how quickly you agreed to my idea. I was expecting that I’d have to sell you on it,” I admitted.

“Did you have a presentation prepared?”

“In my head, yes.”

He smirked and then took a sip of his drink. “It wasn’t a hard sell. There are so many reasons it’s a good idea.”

I just eyed him expectantly as I continued to enjoy my lunch, curious to hear his reasons. He shifted in his seat.

“From a business perspective, it gives me an upper hand compared to the other rinks. Their websites claim they’d have a women’s league if the interest was there, but I know there’s enough interest. You can’t tell me that as soon as our nineteen-and-under girls age out, they just stop playing hockey.”

I understood that I had been one of the lucky ones who continued to play throughout college, but that wasn’t the case for everyone. And just because they weren’t “good enough” to make it on the college team, didn’t mean they weren’t talented. They still deserved a chance to stay in the sport in some capacity.

“Personally, though, I like the idea of creating something that will be around for Charlie when she gets older. A safe place for her to continue her love of hockey without restrictions based on her gender.”

He made it really difficult not to have a crush on him when he said things like that. Jeremiah wasn’t just doing this to make more money. Every decision was clearly being made with Charlie at the forefront of his mind.

We quickly finished our lunch, and then Jeremiah retrieved his laptop, clicking a few times before meeting my gaze over the top of the screen.

“All right. How do you think we should go about advertising?”

“You said it yourself. I’d start with the nineteen-and-under teams and then the families of all the players who come here. Moms, sisters, and aunts that might be interested in playing.”

Jeremiah started taking notes. Once we got the ball rolling, we were spouting out idea after idea: getting word out into the surrounding community and beyond, providing jerseys and equipment if needed, and how to set up games. It was all base information now, and we’d get detailed later on, but it was a great place to start for having just hatched the idea a few days ago.

At some point during our planning, the rink had gone quiet. I’d forgotten about the figure skating lesson until there was a rap on the door, and we both turned to find the instructor in the doorway. She looked to be about in her mid-sixties, gray-streaked hair pulled back tight in a low ponytail. Everything about her screamed figure skater; her ramrod-straight posture, lithe limbs, and the fact that if I were standing, she’d barely come up to my chin.

“Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out. Would you like me to lock up behind me or are you expecting anyone else today?”

Jeremiah shook his head. “Anyone who needs to come in already has a key. Thank you, Linda.”

I waited until she had dipped back out of the office before I turned to Jeremiah, smiling mischievously.

“So the rink is empty?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Yes…”

“What do you say to a rematch?”

It took a second to register, but then his grin matched my own as he pushed back from the desk. “What size skate are you?”

“I’ve got my gear in the car,” I said.

I always kept my bag in my trunk, even if we didn’t have practice. Thankfully, I’d been able to park close to the rink, so it took no time at all for me to grab it, Jeremiah keeping the door open for me.

“How are we doing this without Charlie?” he asked.

I pursed my lips. That did change things slightly. Half of the challenge had been shooting the puck past Charlie.

“Let’s switch it up. Different tasks since we tied last time,” I offered up as a solution. I had the practice cones in my bag, so we could easily set up puck-handling drills or obstacles. “We can do a backward skate race, one-handed cone weaving, and then a game of PUCKS if we’re still tied.”

“Deal.”

Was it the best idea to do a bunch of physical exercise after stuffing myself full of greasy food? No. It wasn’t. But I was far too competitive to care about that. The second the idea had popped in my head, there was no getting rid of it. At least if I blew chunks, Jeremiah would be right there with me.

“What do you say to a couple of warmup laps before the race?” He peeked over his shoulder at me as he finished tying off his laces with a firm knot. “I don’t need to pull something.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Jeez. We’re old, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, we are. As strong as you are, I don’t know if you’d be able to drag me off the ice if my hamstring locks up on me.”

While the lack of friction on the ice would allow him to slide across it easily enough, I also doubted my abilities to pull his six-foot-plus frame.

I didn’t realize how stiff I was until I got out there and started moving. After a few leisurely laps around the rink, I stopped by the boards to get some stretches in as well. You could never be too safe.

Jeremiah joined in, and I tried not to stare when he knelt on the ice and started doing the frog stretch. There was a reason why so many videos on social media consisted of professional hockey players doing this exact stretch. Jeremiah being clad in a pair of athletic pants instead of bulky hockey pants just meant I had a better view of his glutes.

He shifted, and I quickly turned away, hiking one of my legs up onto the boards and leaning forward toward my toes. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Jeremiah like that. But I knew that image was now ingrained in my brain and would definitely pop up again at a later time.

After we had limbered up as much as possible, we used the cones to mark the start and finish line.

“One lap around?” Jeremiah checked.

I nodded and took my place, Jeremiah lowering himself into a starting position next to me.

“Hey, Zo,” he said.

“Yeah?”

I glanced over and instantly got sucked into the golden glow of his eyes. He was so close, I could see how the brown of his irises faded into amber the closer it got to his pupil.

“Go,” he whispered.

And then he was gone. My body reacted before my mind had even registered what had happened—thank God! I had nearly caught up to him by the first corner. His cross-over was a little shaky compared to mine. Even if it’d been over ten years, I would always be a defenseman in my bones, and this wasn’t the first time I’d been caught on my heels.

We were neck and neck by the time we reached the last turn. I pushed hard, my legs burning. It was all worth it, though, when my skate crossed the finish line first. I slid to a stop and then doubled over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath. All the while, I kept my glare set on Jeremiah.

“Jeremiah Langfield,” I scolded.

He just grinned at me as he went to grab more cones for us to weave around, not a single hint of regret on his face.

A sharp pang shot through my left thigh when I used it to push off toward the bench to retrieve our sticks. Thankfully, my back was to Jeremiah so he didn’t see me wince. I massaged the muscles until the pinching sensation went away and then grabbed the sticks to join him for the next task.

Chapter 10

Jeremiah

In retrospect, agreeing to spend more time with Zoe to work on the women’s rec league had been counterproductive, considering I’d been trying so hard to squash my budding crush on her. Taking her challenge had been even more stupid.

Seeing Zoe’s competitive side come out was sexy as hell; the determined wrinkle between her brows and the firm press of her lips that made me want to kiss them until they softened beneath my own. It was impossible to focus on the task at hand, let alone well enough to beat her. Even with my head start in the backward skate, I’d gotten so distracted by how smoothly she skated, despite having been out of the game longer than me, that she’d caught up to me in no time.

However, the athlete in me refused to hand over the win so easily.

Claiming a puck, I moved to the first cone in my lane and did some quick passes to warm up. Zoe may be lighter on her feet, but as a goalie, I was used to holding my stick in just one hand. I would be the one with the advantage this time.

Zoe counted down, and I reacted quickly, pushing off and nudging the puck to my left around the first cone as soon as she said, “Go.” My focus was solely on the puck as it glided back and forth, rebounding off my blade exactly how I wanted. I didn’t spare a single glance in Zoe’s direction until I’d rounded the last cone and was on my way back, noting that she still had two cones left.

She didn’t let that deter her, though. Even if my win was imminent, she continued to push herself until she made it back to the start.

“Okay, that was all you,” she amended. “I didn’t even stand a chance.”

I lightly tapped my stick against hers. “You were on my tail. If anything, that should concern me since I only retired three years ago.”

She sent me a smile, even if it didn’t reach her eyes like usual. “Guess we’re tied again.”

“What do you say to a quick water break before we start PUCKS?”

While taking shots on goal was not as physically demanding as our previous two challenges, I had noticed Zoe repeatedly rubbing her left leg.

“Yeah, a break sounds good,” she agreed.

While she left the rink to get a drink from the water fountain, I plopped down on the bench and reached for my phone out of habit.

Three missed calls from Charlie’s school.

My stomach bottomed out. I jabbed the call back button and pressed the phone tightly to my ear.

“Crossfield Elementary. This is Shannon.”

“H-hi. This is Jeremiah Langfield. I saw that you called me. I-is Charlie all right?” I stammered. There was no other reason for the school to call unless Charlie was sick or injured.

“Mr. Langfield.” The secretary sounded way too chipper for my liking. “Yes, Charlie ended up getting sick in class today. While she doesn’t have a fever, we still send students home just to be safe.”

I switched my phone to speaker and set it on the bench next to me before hurrying to unlace my skates, loosening them just enough so that I could get them off my feet.

“I can be there in fifteen,” I said.

“Oh, no. She’s already been picked up.”

I paused, one tennis shoe on.

“When you didn’t answer, we went ahead and called her second contact. Grandma has already picked her up,” she explained.

“Oh.”

When first enrolling Charlie for kindergarten, the school had asked for a second emergency contact. I should have been the second contact and Sadie the primary, but life hadn’t worked out that way. So I’d written down Terri’s information since she was retired and had more flexibility in her schedule than my own parents. I’d never planned on her ever having to be called, though.

“Okay, thank you,” I said.

“Have a good day, Mr. Langfield, and we hope Charlie feels better soon.”

If I responded, the words didn’t register in my brain. My only thought was to call Terri and to get home to my daughter as soon as possible. I haphazardly tossed my things in my bag and then fought with the zipper until it finally gave.

“What’s wrong?”

Zoe stood at the entrance to the bench, eyebrows pinched together in concern now.

“Charlie’s school called.”

And I missed it. I missed it because I was too busy flirting with Zoe to hear my phone when that was exactly what I wasn’t supposed to be doing. For this very reason.

“Is she okay?”

“Y-yeah. My mother-in-law picked her up, but I—”

Zoe stepped back from the doorway when I stood. “Go. I’ll make sure everything’s locked up.”

“Thank you.” I nodded gratefully as I stepped past her, opting to take my bag with me instead of wasting another minute to drop it off in my office.

As soon as the engine started, I pressed the button to call Terri over the car speaker. I’d barely pulled out of the parking lot when she answered.

“We just got home,” she started with no preamble. “She’s lying down on the couch now. Says her stomach is still bothering her, so I’ve placed a pot next to her just in case.”

My little girl was sick, and I wasn’t there supporting her. This casual flirting with Zoe needed to stop. Today was a perfect example of how a relationship would take away from Charlie. I needed to be focused on my daughter, which meant distancing myself from Zoe.

It would be easy enough to keep our interactions at Charlie’s practices and games minimal, but planning the rec league would be harder. I couldn’t decide all of a sudden that I didn’t need her help. No, I’d already signed myself up to spend that time around her one-on-one. We would just have to keep it professional. Stay focused on the league and absolutely no playing around on the ice. All business.

“I’ll be there soon,” I said.

“Don’t rush, Jeremiah. We’re fine here,” Terri insisted. “Drive safe and we’ll see you soon.”

She was right, and I reminded myself of it each time I found the speedometer inching above the speed limit. Getting pulled over—or worse, in an accident—would do me no good and it wouldn’t make Charlie feel better.

I quickly stopped the train of thought my mind had started barreling down before I made my anxiety any worse. I would make it home safe. I would be there for Charlie.

Terri had the front door open by the time I’d parked my car and climbed out.

“Thank you,” I blurted. “I’m sorry you had to go and pick her up. I was—”

“It’s fine, Jeremiah,” she interrupted. “It’s what I’m here for.”

My skin itched. The whole reason I’d chosen to move back to Denver after retiring was to be near family for Charlie’s sake. But I had never been one to lean on others for help, and it was a difficult habit to break. Add on growing up with an absent father who worked all the time, and I was determined to be the one that Charlie could always count on.

“Still. I really appreciate it, Terri.”

She smiled gently and gave my arm a quick but reassuring squeeze before donning her coat and heading out. I didn’t wait to make sure she’d safely made it to her car like usual, instead beelining for the living room.

“Hey, Tot.”

Charlie looked away from the TV screen and sent me a small smile, her eyes noticeably lacking their usual sparkle. I sat down on the edge of the couch next to her and reached up to brush her hair back from her forehead, checking her temperature as I did so. No fever.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” she croaked.

“Stomach still upset?”

She just nodded. It was her trembling bottom lip, though, that concerned me the most.

“Charlie. What’s wrong?”

Big tears slid down her cheeks. I didn’t hesitate to pull her up and into my arms.

“Why don’t I have a mommy like everyone else?”

I would have rather had a hundred pucks shot at me with no padding on than hear those words come out of her mouth.

“Tot,” I breathed out, holding her tighter for both our sakes.

What was I supposed to say to that? What could I say? Because life can be cruel?

“What brought this on?” I asked instead.

“We’re doing a class bake sale, and our teacher had us brainstorm what we could bring. Everyone kept sharing their favorite things to bake with their moms, but I couldn’t and—”

Her bottom lip started to quiver, and I tucked her more securely underneath my chin.

“You know, you may not have a mommy to bake with, but you still have me.”

Charlie pulled back enough to give me a disbelieving look. “Daddy, you can’t even make pancakes.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but then quickly clamped it shut. Okay, so baking wasn’t a skill I possessed. But there had to be a way that Charlie could still participate.

A certain blonde-haired baker came to mind, then.

“What about Coach Zo? We could get some of those Puffins muffins from her.”

“Or her mini cupcakes?” Charlie’s frown suddenly deepened. “But isn’t that cheating to get them from the bakery?”

Well, damn. She had a point.

“What if we had her come here, and you helped her bake them?” I offered.

The idea went against everything I’d just decided on the drive over about reducing my interactions with Zoe, but in this case, I was putting Charlie first.

Charlie’s frown disappeared, and a happy glow returned to her face. I knew we’d found the solution. She’d still get to bake with someone special, just like everyone else. It wouldn’t be the same as baking with Sadie, but it was better than showing up empty-handed or with my sad excuse for a baked good. I didn’t even want to consider how she would handle that if just thinking about it made her anxious enough that she'd thrown up.

“You can ask her at your game Saturday.”

That seemed to satisfy her for now, and she sank back into my arms, head resting on my chest. I rubbed my hand soothingly up and down her back.

This wouldn’t be the last time we went through something like this revolving around Sadie. No matter how hard I tried to be everything for Charlie, there would still be areas in which I fell short, and today had made it painfully obvious that whether I wanted to ask for help or not, I would need it.

Asking Zoe to help with the bake sale would be a good place to start. I just needed to keep my feelings for her in check, and we would be fine.

Chapter 11

Jeremiah

Charlie hadn’t fully regained her appetite since being sent home from school, but she had insisted on going to her game today. I’d done my best to fill her up with peanut butter toast and fruit that would be light on her stomach, but still give her energy.

The Sharks were currently giving the Puffins a run for their money. While Charlie had been a brick wall, she was starting to tire out. She stayed on the ground longer, as if taking a breather, before getting back up slower than normal. Zoe must have noticed as well, because the second the whistle blew for the end of the half, she started helping Zack get on his goalie gear. All the while, she made sure everyone drank their water.

Then suddenly Zoe’s eyes met mine. She held them for a moment before her gaze flicked to Charlie and back to me. I registered her lips moving, but couldn’t process what she was trying to say.

Picture? No. Pick… pickle!

Even from across the rink, I could see how red Charlie’s cheeks were now that she’d removed her mask. While it was nothing too out of the ordinary when she was pushing to do her best, it was the faraway look in her eyes that made my stomach turn. She wasn’t paying any attention to Zoe as she explained the positions and plays for the next half to the rest of the team, and Charlie’s breathing hadn’t calmed down. It had been a hard period, with the Puffins on defense more often than not, and Charlie would never give anything less than her all. Even if that meant pushing herself to her limits for forty minutes straight with barely any fuel in her body. Unfortunately, a trait that she got from me.

Without a second thought, I hurdled over the two rows of empty bleachers in front of me and hurried to the concession stand. The teenagers that ran the stand stared at me in confusion, but my attention was locked on one thing. Thankfully, we had restocked earlier in the week, so there were plenty of pickles. Just as quick as I had barged in, I was out.

I didn’t care if parents weren’t allowed on the ice, let alone anyone in their street shoes—it was my rink anyway. I was in full protective Dad mode and had tunnel vision for Charlie and Charlie alone.

Zoe barely opened the door in time for me. I had been fully prepared to just hop over the boards and pray that a kid wasn’t on the other side.

Kneeling down in front of Charlie, my chest tightened when her half-lidded eyes met mine. I could tell she wanted to smile, but even that was too much effort right now.

“Here, Tot. Nibble on this and I’m gonna get your gear off so you can cool down, okay?”

Her head bobbed once.

I pulled her jersey over her head first, followed by her elbow and shoulder pads. The rest I could work around her eating to get off. I ripped open the package and held it out to her, wincing at how clammy her little hand was against mine. She’d completely sweated through her undershirt.

I was in the midst of undoing the tape around her socks when Zoe appeared at my side.

“Here, Charlie girl.” She draped a wet cooling towel around Charlie’s neck, adjusting her braids. “Just take a breather. You were playing hard out there saving all those goals.”

I gave Charlie’s knee an affectionate squeeze and did my best to smile up at her. “Absolutely killing it out there, Tot,” I agreed.

That at least got a bigger smile out of her. “Thanks, Daddy. Did you see the one I blocked with my toe?”

“I sure did. Quick reflexes on that one.” I nodded towards the pickle. “Keep eating.”

She did as I asked, having eaten half by the time I got her skates and shin guards off. The red in her cheeks had noticeably faded, and she was far more responsive, eyes tracking the puck now as play began. The knot in my chest loosened.

There was no returning to the parents’ side now, and while I could have joined Zoe at the boards, I forced myself to sit on the bench next to Charlie instead. Standing next to Zoe would mean talking to her, and I had promised to keep that to a minimum. So, I did my best to focus on the game instead of her.

When the Sharks got the puck out of the scrum and their center made a breakaway, I didn’t think to stop myself from yelling out to Zack.

“Eyes on the puck, Zack! Track it!”

The center tried to fake to the left, but Zack did exactly as I asked and slid over just in time to catch the puck in his glove. All of the Puffin parents cheered for him. Even Charlie beat her stick against the boards in front of us.

Zoe turned to the bench and started prepping the next line to switch out. Her eyes caught mine and I quickly shifted to face Charlie more, keeping my back to Zoe.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, brushing the now dry strands of hair from her face.

“I’m okay.”

She’d finished off the pickle, so I took the juice-filled pouch from her to throw away later.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“What on earth are you sorry for?”

“I scared you. Again.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and bent down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Not the first time, and it won’t be the last,” I said before chuckling softly. “You’ve been scaring me ever since you first came into this world.”

Her eyebrows crinkled together. “I have?”

I nodded. “But I know you’re a tough cookie.” I raised my brows at her and booped her on the nose. “Doesn’t mean you can’t tap out every now and then if you’re getting tired, though.”

She scrunched her nose and giggled, making me smile.

“Okay, Daddy.”

She sunk into my side with a tired sigh, and I just held her closer. Was she going to take my advice? Probably not. But who was I to judge?

The Puffins pulled out the win, and Charlie had regained enough energy to cheer for her teammates and exchange fist bumps as they returned to the bench. She put her skates back on to get across the rink, leaving me to gather all of her gear in my arms and carefully pick my way across.

“Daddy, I need to ask Coach Zo about baking,” Charlie reminded me as I tucked her things away into the bag.

I glanced around for Zoe’s blue baseball cap, but the bleachers were currently a mess of parents and players packing up. Then Zack’s family stood up to leave, and I spotted her chatting with a couple of the moms. Charlie and I stepped closer to wait our turn.

“I can’t believe you’ve already had that many players sign up. This is going to be an actual league!” Jane said.

Zoe’s eyes met mine over the woman’s shoulder. “Well, it’s not all me. This guy here is largely responsible for our success.”

I forced a smile onto my face as the two other women turned to look at me. “It’s a joint effort.”

Zoe’s smile softened, and I ignored the way that made my heart jump.

“Either way. We can’t wait for the start of the season,” Jane gushed.

The moms bid their goodbyes, and then Zoe turned her full attention to us. Thankfully, Charlie stepped forward and took center stage.

“Coach Zo, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“My school is having a bake sale next week, and I was hoping you could help me.” She waved her hand over her shoulder in my direction. “Daddy’s not very good at baking.”

I scoffed at the slight, and Zoe laughed softly. She tried once more to meet my gaze, but I kept my focus on Charlie.

“Of course, I can,” she answered.

Charlie bounced on her toes excitedly, more energy running through her body now than I’d seen in the last couple of days. “I’m going to have the best baked goods.”

“It’s not a competition, Tot. It’s a fundraiser,” I reminded her.

“She’s not wrong, though.” Zoe grinned. “How about Friday? I’m free after work, and then the cupcakes will be nice and fresh for the bake sale.”

“You can just come to our house, if that works,” I said.

“Yeah. That works.”

Charlie threw her arms around Zoe in a tight hug. “You’re the best!”

Zoe hugged her back and then ruffled her already messy hair. “I could never say no to baking with my Charlie girl.”

I was just grateful to see Charlie smiling again. I doubted Zoe realized how much this meant to Charlie. To both of us, honestly. She was saving my little girl from a lot of heartbreak.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely, finally allowing myself to look at Zoe.

She gave me a soft smile. “Of course.”

Chapter 12

Zoe

“You’re going to his house?” Jada gasped, her jaw practically on the floor. “You have to sneak pictures. I want to see how big it is. He probably has floor to ceiling windows with a mountain view.”

I dodged one of Bash’s grubby fists clutching a plastic block as he waved it above his head while screaming toddler nonsense. Well, I’m sure he knew exactly what he was saying, but it was indecipherable to me. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t receive a black eye from a toy.

“You understand how creepy that is, right?”

Jada huffed and gave me a look, all the more intimidating given she was looking down at me from the dining table while I sat on the floor, “building” with Bash. He only ever allowed me to get five blocks together before he knocked it over.

“Okay, yes. But how often do you get to be in the home of a former pro athlete?”

I almost lived in one. Mine, that bitter voice reminded me.

I tried my best to shove it back into the dark corner it resided in, not needing to go down that rabbit hole right now. My life was good.

It could’ve been great.

I physically shook my head this time.

“I’m not taking pictures of his house, Jada.”

“Party pooper. Bash, tell Auntie Zoe that she’s a party pooper.”

He babbled once more and then laughed. For all I knew, he could’ve been calling me something far worse.

“The only pooper around here is Mr. Bash.” I leaned forward so I could kiss his chubby cheek while tickling his sides. That just made him cackle even more.

“I can’t deny that. I’ll be so happy once he’s potty trained, and we’re done with diapers.”

“You’ll still have to wipe his butt,” I reminded her.

That earned me another look, but I just grinned at her, hugging Bash close. “Good thing he’s cute!”

Jada turned back to her laptop. Despite having the evening off, she was using it to go through the online order requests we’d received. With the holidays just around the corner, we encouraged customers to get their requests in as soon as possible so we could get them confirmed on our calendar. November and December always booked up quickly between family gatherings and work events. While it would be hard work, I definitely wasn’t complaining about the extra income.

“What kind of cupcakes are you going to make?”

I pursed my lips. “I guess that’s something I should have asked.”

Clearly I hadn’t been thinking straight. That seemed to be a recurring issue around Jeremiah. Although, he’d acted odd at the game, barely looking at me.

I scoffed at myself. Charlie had been unwell, and Jeremiah’s focus had been—rightfully—on her.

“You could always text him and ask,” Jada said matter-of-factly, eyes still on her screen. “You have his number, don’t you?”

I took Bash’s hands in mine and clapped them together as I bounced him on my knee, letting his giggles distract me from the knot in my stomach.

“Yes…”

“Text him.”

“But—”

Jada lifted her head enough to raise an eyebrow at me. We both knew that I had no excuse not to. Except for the fact that I was developing a major crush on him. Having spent time with him alone, I’d gotten to see more of his personality. Not only finding him physically attractive, but enjoying being around him as well was very dangerous territory. And I was about to walk right into the lion’s den.

“Fine,” I muttered, reaching for my phone.

Her expression turned smug as she resumed typing. “The mom look always works.”

“I’m not Bash.” I adjusted said toddler in my lap so he couldn’t grab my phone. “You can’t use your mom tactics on me.”

“Oh, but I do. You just don’t realize it.”

The door from the garage opened then, and Levi entered, kicking off his boots in the mudroom before joining us. He hesitated in the doorway, bright blue eyes jumping from me to Jada and back again.

“Do I want to know why my wife looks like the cat that got the cream?”

I opened my mouth, but Jada beat me to it. “Zo got asked to go to that hockey player’s house to help him and his daughter bake cupcakes.”

“Langfield?” Now Levi was excited, too.

“Ex-hockey player,” I corrected.

Jada just waved her hand dismissively. “Potayto, potahto.”

If I really wanted to be petty, I would have pointed out that the real saying was “tomayto, tomahto”, but I kept my mouth shut and returned my attention to my phone. I had gotten as far as opening my contacts app, and that was it.

I was making a mountain out of a mole hill in the extreme. Jeremiah would probably think nothing of getting my text. As Jada had pointed out, it was a logical question to ask. I didn’t want to assume they wanted vanilla cupcakes when it was the most basic flavor by far. If Charlie was going to have the best baked goods at the sale, she shouldn’t be bringing basic cupcakes that anyone could make.

His name was the first to pop up when I typed the letter L, and I quickly tapped the message icon before I could second guess myself anymore. As if he knew this was important business, Bash sat completely still in my lap for once, his eyes locked on the lit-up screen. Thank God he couldn’t read yet.

I tapped the side of my phone as I waited, not daring to glance up at Jada or Levi.

My traitorous lips curled up into a smile. 

I’m looking forward to it? Could I be any more of a dork?

Chapter 13

Zoe

Jada was going to be sorely disappointed. The Langfield home was a modest, run-of-the-mill ranch house located in one of the suburbs surrounding the city. However, it was still a decent sized home, especially in comparison to the bungalow my aunt and uncle lived in.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to settle the kaleidoscope of butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach as of late. They’d been idly fluttering throughout the day when things got slow enough at work for me to remember that I would be in Jeremiah’s home tonight for a lengthy period of time.

At some point, I was able to talk myself up enough to actually press the doorbell. I shifted the bag from one hand to the other as I waited. Jeremiah had requested a list of the ingredients needed, but I’d brought my trusty hand-mixer and other cooking utensils that I thought the average person might not have on hand in their kitchen. Especially someone who rarely, if ever, baked.

There was the sound of solid footsteps drawing near before the lock clicked and the door opened to reveal a very casual-looking Jeremiah in joggers and a plain white tee. The magical effects of a basic white t-shirt on a man really needed to be researched.

“Hi,” he greeted. Then his eyes locked in on the bag. “Here, let me take that from you.”

It took me a second longer than normal to respond.

“Oh. Sure! Thank you.”

Get your shit together or this is going to be a long night.

He tried his best to make enough room for me to step inside, but my shoulder still brushed against his chest. Granted, I didn’t really try all that hard to avoid him.

I was pathetic. Was I really so deprived of physical touch that the slightest brush had me sweating like a sinner in church?

“Charlie is brushing her teeth after dinner. She should be done soon,” he explained, leading me into the kitchen.

I had expected granite countertops with stainless steel appliances, a cold and sterile place fit for any other millionaire, but instead, I had stepped into the coziest kitchen I had ever seen. The walls were painted a warm yellow that reflected the setting sun perfectly against the white cabinets, creating a soft glow throughout the space. I could hardly see the fridge underneath a collage of artwork and pictures held up by various magnets. And then I spotted the cookie jar in the shape of a goose perched on the countertop. Its porcelain face just begged me to fill it with delicious goodies.

Jeremiah placed my bag on the island that claimed the center of the room. All of the ingredients I’d requested were already laid out and ready to go. I was mentally taking stock when I felt a small, but solid nudge against my ankle. Looking down for the culprit, I was surprised to find a black and white ball of fluff with two large ears staring up at me.

“You have a pet bunny?”

Jeremiah followed my gaze, the small rabbit having apparently snuck up on him as well. I suppose those furry feet made it easy for her to hop around unnoticed.

“That’s Delilah,” he explained. “Normally she’s fairly timid around new people, so I’m surprised she isn’t hiding out in Charlie’s room.”

She sat up on her haunches, little front paws hanging in front of her as her tiny nose wiggled so fast that I would hyperventilate if I tried to do the same. I desperately wanted to pet her, but I also didn’t want to spook her. Bunnies were prey animals after all.

“So she just runs around the house?” I asked.

“Yeah, for the most part. She stays in Charlie's room when we’re gone, and at night since it’s bunny-proofed, but otherwise she’s free to roam wherever.”

“Bunny-proofed?”

Baby-proofing a house, I understood. I’d helped Jada and Levi put outlet covers in and locks on all of their cabinets before Bash could even roll over.

“She may be small, but those little teeth can chew through cords in one bite. She’s also taken some nibbles out of the trim here and there.” He tilted his head to one side. “At least she’s litter-trained, though.”

I stared at the little puff in awe. “Wow. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“She’s good about it for the most part.” He held up a finger. “But if you see what looks like a Cocoa Puff, do not pick it up. It is not a Cocoa Puff.”

Delilah dropped back down to all fours and thumped her back foot against the hardwood before turning and sprinting out of the room.

“I guess she doesn’t like you talking about her bathroom habits,” I teased.

Jeremiah grinned at me, but then it was gone just as quick as it came, and he turned to open the fridge behind him. Odd.

A much louder set of feet came pattering down the hallway, and then Charlie slid into the kitchen. “Coach Zo!”

“Hey, Charlie girl.” I grinned. “Ready to get baking?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

She vibrated with excitement as she joined me on the other side of the island, barely tall enough to see over the edge of the counter.

“Here.” Jeremiah brought a step stool over for her.

She gripped the edge of the light wood as she stepped up, but I still held my hand out just in case she started to wobble.

“There. Much better,” I said with a smile.

We worked together to unpack the bag I’d brought and laid everything out for easy access. What I wouldn’t give to have this much counterspace at home.

“Anything I can help with?” Jeremiah checked in.

“Do you have a large mixing bowl by chance?”

Somehow a mixing bowl had slipped my mind. Kind of important, but my brain had been so scattered stressing about tonight. It didn’t get any clearer when he squatted down in front of one of the lower cabinets and that damn white tee grew taut across the muscles of his back and broad shoulders. And boy was I sucker for back muscles.

He dug around before retrieving a large plastic bowl. “Like this?” he checked.

I did my best to rein in my thirst and nodded, maintaining eye contact so I didn’t drool, lest his shirt now pull tight across his chest. Did I mention I had a weakness for pecs as well? Okay, maybe I just had it bad for a strong, masculine torso.

My mind flashed back to when he’d picked me up with no effort at all during our one-on-one game and I’d felt him pressed against my back and his solid arms wrapped around my middle. At the same time, though, they’d been soft, and I imagined that he was someone who made you feel safe when he held you. Like you were something precious. Just the thought of it made my heart ache.

Jeremiah quirked a brow, still holding the bowl out to me.

I forced a quick smile as I took the bowl and then turned to place it on the island between myself and Charlie. My safest bet was to focus on the fact that I was here to help her bake the most delicious lemon cupcakes ever. Not to ogle her father. Or wonder what it would be like to cuddle with him.

“All right.” I clapped my hands together, attempting to recenter myself. “Batter first.”

I put Jeremiah to work zesting the lemons and cutting them into quarters. Charlie helped me measure out the dry ingredients. I let her whisk them together while I mixed the butter, oil, and sugar in another bowl, stealing some of the lemon zest from Jeremiah.

“Anything else I can do?’

I raised a brow at him. “Think you could handle the icing on your own?”

“Put me in, Coach.” He saluted.

It was ridiculous, but also terribly attractive. I turned before he could see my smile and gathered what he would need. He listened intently as I talked him through the steps. It was only once he’d been able to recite the recipe step-by-step that I returned to Charlie’s side to finish the batter.

The next part was done by hand, each of us wielding a wooden spoon, so I gave Jeremiah the hand-mixer. No sooner had the thing whirred to life than there was a panicked ‘Oh crap!’ and the kitchen suddenly resembled the inside of a snow globe as confectioner’s sugar rained down around us.

Charlie broke down laughing, and I turned to find Jeremiah rocking a salt and pepper look from the sugar that had caught in his hair and eyebrows. One look at his sheepish expression, eyes wide and smile timid, and I couldn’t hold in my laughter either.

“Way to go, Daddy,” Charlie taunted.

Of course she would take this opportunity to chirp her father. It was her favorite pastime.

“Oh, Tot,” he chuckled. “You are definitely going to need a shower.”

Sure enough, Charlie’s dark locks were almost just as speckled with sugar as her father’s. I could only imagine what I might look like.

“I’ll get you a different shirt to wear,” Jeremiah offered. “It’s all over your back.”

Of course it was, but when did I not get something on me while baking?

“I’d appreciate that. Maybe we should wait until we’ve finished, though. Just in case there’s any other accidents,” I said.

“Not a bad idea.”

“I’m partially to blame. I forgot to tell you to put it on the lowest setting after you’d creamed the butter.”

I stepped over to show him how to adjust the speed, placing my hand over his and praying he couldn’t tell that I was holding my breath. Refusing to succumb to his delicious bergamot cologne, I switched the mixer onto low with a flick of my thumb, making sure he had a good hold on it before I let go. When given proper—and detailed—instructions, Jeremiah was a quick learner, easily turning the machine back off.

“Definitely made that harder than it is,” he said.

“If it makes you feel better, my work apron is covered in flour and batter. Hazard of the job.”

Add on that we had a standing mixer that liked to throw fits, and there were times I walked into the store bathroom not looking much better than Jeremiah.

“Makes me feel a little better,” he allowed, smiling crookedly at me.

I ignored the happy flip my heart did in my chest.

Assured that he would be all right left alone again, I rejoined Charlie. I’d brought purple cupcake liners especially for her, and the knowing smile that crept onto her face when she saw them made me warm all over. We prepped the two cupcake tins, and then I showed her how to use my cookie scoop to get perfectly portioned cupcakes. She didn’t drip any of the batter and Jeremiah kept all the icing ingredients in the bowl this time. My little apprentices were making me proud.

Once the tins were in the oven, Jeremiah gave Charlie’s shoulder a light tap.

“Why don’t you get your pjs and I’ll start your shower? Get this sugar out of your hair.” He held his hand out to help her down from the stool.

She didn’t need to be told twice, scurrying off to her room and most likely leaving a trail of sugar behind her. Jeremiah followed, and I took the opportunity to clean up what I could.

I didn’t see a broom nearby and wasn’t about to snoop, so I cleaned the sugar off the countertops first, gathering it into small piles I could scoop into my hand to dump in the trash. Then I wiped the counters down. I was so focused on my task that I didn’t hear Jeremiah pad back into the kitchen, but I felt his presence behind me, like static electricity sparking between us. Then he placed his hand ever so lightly on my shoulder, and a zap shot down my spine.

“Hope this works.”

Did he mean for his voice to come out so low and rumbly? Either way it was not helpful. And the wet hair dripping onto the shoulders of his clean shirt? Not fair at all.

I looked at the proffered shirt, a Seattle Cascades tee he’d clearly had for a while, which meant it was that kind of soft that only comes from a garment being properly worn in. God, this man was dangerous.

“You’re asking a Denver girlie to wear a Seattle shirt?” My gaze traveled upwards to meet his own as I let my jaw drop slightly. “Oh no. Please tell me you aren’t one of those hockey guys that likes when a girl wears his jersey.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a jersey.”

I couldn’t hide my devilish grin. He so totally was.

Deciding he’d been chirped enough tonight, I gave in and took the shirt from him, subconsciously rubbing the fabric between my fingers. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He gave a small nod, his eyes softer now as they locked on mine. The air crackled between us once again, but then Jeremiah took a step back and ducked his head, his loose waves flopping over his forehead. It still didn’t hide the slight flush in his cheeks, though. Good to know I wasn’t the only one feeling something just then.

“I-um…” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go check on Charlie really quick. Make sure she gets the sugar out. Hallway bathroom is the first door on the left.”

“Got it.”

His gaze lingered for an extra second or two before he turned for the hallway. I threw away the paper towel I’d been using and then followed his instructions, finding the bathroom easily enough.

I tried to be as careful as possible when removing my shirt so I didn’t cover the bathroom floor in sugar as well, folding it up in a way that hopefully kept the powder trapped until I got home.

Jeremiah’s shirt hung off my shoulders and reached mid-thigh, revealing just how much bigger he was than me. I was right about it being unbelievably soft from years of wear. And Jeremiah’s scent lingering on the fabric? Let’s just say, I was glad I was alone with no witnesses as I indulged myself in a sniff of it. Yup. Bergamot with a touch of something I couldn't quite place. Something specifically Jeremiah.

Chapter 14

Jeremiah

Nothing could have prepared me for seeing Zoe in my old t-shirt. My heart pounded against my rib cage as if trying to escape. The shirt nearly swallowed her up whole, but somehow that just made it even more attractive.

I’d utterly failed at keeping my interactions with Zoe minimal tonight. There was just something about her that sucked me right in and put me at ease. It was hard not to laugh and have a good time with her. Add Charlie into the mix, and I didn’t stand a chance.

“Looking good?”

I just about swallowed my tongue. Had I been that obvious in my staring? But then the heat from the open oven door reminded me that I had been checking on the cupcakes before she’d walked into the kitchen.

“I’m not an expert, so maybe it’s better if you check,” I managed to get out.

She rounded the island, then bent down to join me. My body went rigid when her shoulder brushed mine. I really didn’t trust myself with her so close and wearing my clothes. She’d asked earlier if I was a guy who liked when a girl wore my jersey, and I totally was. I used to adore seeing Sadie walking around the house in my clothes. Apparently that wasn’t just a Sadie thing.

“I’d say another minute or so and then we’ll be good.” Zoe stood upright and closed the oven. “You know, besides the little icing debacle, you did really well.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, you are such a bad liar.”

Zoe laughed, too. “I’m not lying,” she argued, leaning her hip against the island and crossing her arms over her chest.

I rested my hand on the counter, obnoxiously aware of how close it was to her and the mere foot of distance between us. Even if I had several inches on her, she wasn’t intimidated, her eyes just daring me to disagree again.

I wasn’t one to back down.

“I told you I wasn’t good at baking. That was always Sadie’s forte.”

“Did she have a favorite dessert to make?”

“Pies.” The answer came easily. “She enjoyed playing around with the crust and making different designs.”

Zoe gasped. “I’ve always wanted to try that, but we rarely get pie orders at the bakery. Some designs are so pretty that I don’t think I could bring myself to eat them. I would probably cry the first time someone cut into it.”

“She made sure to take all the pictures before serving it,” I said.

“I’d love to see them sometime if you still have them.”

Normally, I danced around talking about Sadie with people, mostly in hopes of avoiding the pitying looks directed at myself and, especially, Charlie. I’d rather remember the wonderful things about Sadie and not the loss of her. It was easy to talk to Zoe about her, though. After the initial ‘I’m sorry for your loss’, she never batted an eye whenever Sadie was mentioned. Instead, she was eager to learn more about her, and that warmed a part of me that had been frozen numb for years.

Charlie came scampering down the hall then, giant wet spots on her fresh pajamas from her hair. “Are the cupcakes done? They smell done.”

Zoe laughed softly as she took another peek into the oven. Then she grabbed an oven mitt and removed the two trays.

“They’re done baking, but we’ll have to let them cool before we can ice them.”

“Why don’t we put on a cartoon while we wait?” I offered before Charlie’s pout could make an appearance. It worked.

As if she’d been waiting for Charlie to settle down somewhere, Delilah came bounding into the living room and hopped right up on the couch next to her to receive nose scratches, which Charlie happily gave. I pulled up a kid’s channel and then passed the remote to Charlie.

“Zoe and I will be in the kitchen. We’ll let you know when the cupcakes are ready, okay?”

She was already distracted by the show, giving only a simple nod in acknowledgement. Confident that she would be sufficiently occupied, I returned to the kitchen to find Zoe loading up the sink.

“No way, Cupcake.” I shook my head adamantly as I joined her. “You already cleaned the counters after I made a mess. You are not doing the dishes.”

“But some of them are my dishes,” she argued.

“I don’t care. You’re helping us out.”

Her gaze just stayed locked on me. Zoe wasn’t one to back down either, no matter how big or small the challenge.

“Seriously.” I glanced toward the living room and lowered my voice. “The whole reason she got sent home the other day was because she’d made herself sick stressing out over this bake sale.”

Zoe’s whole demeanor softened, shoulders lowering as her own eyes moved in Charlie’s direction.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Everyone was talking about baking with their moms, and she was the odd man out.”

“Oh, Charlie girl,” Zoe breathed out.

“My suggestion to ask you to help was the only thing that got her to smile that day. So, I mean it. Tonight is really important to her, and I cannot say thank you enough.”

Zoe relented and handed me the sponge. I gratefully directed my attention to the sink full of dishes instead of the look in her eyes, switching on the hot water.

“So, what got you into baking?” I asked after I’d rinsed out the largest bowl. “Did you always want to be a baker?”

Zoe settled in against the counter next to me, letting out a laugh, but there was an edge to it.

“Definitely not. I mean, I always loved desserts and enjoyed helping my mom bake around the holidays as a kid, but I never saw it as a career.”

There was only the sound of the faucet and clanking of dishes as she gathered her thoughts.

“My best friend, Jada, and I were roommates in college. She was always baking something in the dorm kitchen.” She picked up a tea towel and started drying the dishes I’d cleaned. “Once the off-season hit, I started to join her and realized how relaxing baking is.”

“You didn’t have any baking disasters like me?” I grinned over at her.

“Oh, I definitely did in the beginning,” she confessed with a reassuring smile.

There was hope for me yet.

“Jada opened up her bakery a couple years after we graduated, and it just made sense to work for her. Who wouldn’t want to spend all day with their best friend?”

I thought back to playing on the Cascades with Wesley. I missed working with my best friend and seeing him every day. He made everything more fun. Even those morning skates when Charlie had kept Sadie and I up all night.

“Sounds perfect to me,” I said.

While I worked on cleaning the last of the utensils, Zoe moved to check the cupcakes.

“Cooled off?” I asked, drying my hands with a paper towel.

She nodded with a smile. “Ready for icing.”

She headed off to get Charlie from the living room, the two of them returning within seconds. Charlie climbed back onto her stepping stool and looked over the cupcakes eagerly. I opened the silverware drawer to my left to grab a couple of knives for us to use, but Zoe stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“Absolutely not.” She looked utterly appalled as she eyed the butter knives. “You two are going to learn how to properly ice a cupcake.”

I tipped my head forward and raised my eyebrows at her. “You’re trusting me with the icing?”

“Possibly against my better judgement, but yes.”

Her lips tipped up on one side into a smirk, and my neck flushed warm.

“You have more faith in him than I do,” Charlie muttered behind us.

The chirping never ended.

Zoe made up two bags of icing that she called piping bags and then insisted that Charlie and I needed to be the ones to decorate the cupcakes so they didn’t look store-bought. She helped Charlie first, guiding her hands to squeeze gently and move in a circular motion from the outside to the middle for the perfect swirl. They repeated this for a couple cupcakes before Zoe supervised Charlie attempting one on her own. She was a bit heavy-handed, but I doubted anyone would turn down extra buttercream.

Zoe’s eyes met mine over the top of Charlie’s head, and she smiled softly before tipping her chin toward my daughter and mouthing ‘she’s amazing’.

Having Zoe in my kitchen and seeing her with Charlie was not helping these new feelings that had been bubbling up. Feelings that had spent years dormant after I lost Sadie. Whether for my own protection or simply because my heart needed time to heal after being shredded into pieces.

It also had me questioning whether my rule about no dating was worth keeping. And that scared the absolute shit out of me. I hadn’t played the dating game since I was nineteen. Dating as a thirty-one-year-old would already be vastly different from whenever I was a teenager without adding on the fact that I was a single father and a widower now. I came with unique baggage that most men Zoe dated probably didn’t carry around with them.

But I hoped that was something we would be able to figure out together. Even just the little time we’d spent working on the women’s rec league had shown that we made quite a good team. Tonight was even more evidence of that. Surely it would transfer over into more personal matters as well. Right?

Zoe stepped around Charlie to join me with a fresh piping bag in hand, and I quickly shook those thoughts away. For now, at least.

“For me?” I asked, hand placed to my chest.

She tried to roll her eyes, but her amused smile gave her away.

I took the bag from her and held it poised over the bare cupcake nearest me, trying to recall what Zoe had just told Charlie to do. In my opinion, I hadn’t used that much pressure, but the icing apparently felt different given how quickly it came rushing out, resulting in a giant glob. Definitely not a perfect swirl like Zoe’s and still worse off than Charlie’s cupcakes she’d done on her own.

Zoe giggled softly under her breath.

“Here.” She placed her hands over the top of mine—which did not help my focus at all. “Just a slight squeeze as you move in a spiral.”

She applied the smallest amount of pressure to my fingers. I followed suit, hyperaware of how tight my grip was now. The icing came out much slower this time as Zoe guided me.

“And then ease up once you reach the middle and lift.”

Was it the prettiest cupcake I’d ever seen? Not by a long shot; lopsided from my first solo attempt. It would still taste good, though. Maybe I could convince the girls to let that be a sample cupcake for us to enjoy.

Zoe used one hand to move the cupcake to the side and replace it with a new one. I didn’t complain when she led me through decorating another. Hell, she could help me with all of them if it meant that she’d stay this close. I was drowning in her sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent and happily so.

Charlie had turned into a machine and had iced a majority of the cupcakes by the time Zoe and I finished up my fifth.

“Look at you!” I grinned, patting her on the back. “I’m impressed.”

Zoe looked over Charlie’s work with a smile of her own. “These are a lot better than how mine looked when I first started. I think Jada would hire you in a heartbeat.”

Charlie just preened under the praise. Probably more so from Zoe’s than mine. Not that I could blame her; I’d do the exact same thing if Zoe praised me.

Nope. I mentally shook away the images that followed that sentence. Not going there.

Having Zoe in my space was having more of an effect on me than I had predicted it would. I could chalk some of it up to the fact that I hadn’t felt attracted to anyone since Sadie and wasn’t used to the sensation. Or blame it on some primal instinct to find a mate to help care for my offspring. No matter the reasoning, it didn’t mean the feelings weren’t there. Along with the desire to act on them.

Zoe stayed long enough to carefully place the cupcakes in Tupperware and pack up everything she’d brought with her.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie bounced over to Zoe and wrapped her arms around her waist. It was going to be interesting getting her to bed tonight. The little tot was on cloud nine.

Zoe knelt down to give her a proper bear hug. “Of course! I had a lot of fun.”

Then she let go of Charlie so she could stand, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

“Go get Delilah ready for bed.” I nudged Charlie. “Then it’ll be time to get your cute little butt in bed, too.”

She sighed, her shoulders drooping.

“Okay.” She gave Zoe a small, limp wave. “Bye, Coach Zo.”

“Goodnight, Charlie girl. Get some good sleep this weekend, so you’re ready for the game Sunday morning.”

The reminder of her game at least cheered her up enough that she left with a smile.

I walked Zoe to the door, my heart pounding a staccato against my ribs. If I’m ever going to make a move, now is the time, right?

“Thanks again. It really meant a lot to her,” I said instead.

“Of course. I enjoyed it. Mess and all.” She winked at me as she stepped out onto the porch. “See you Sunday!”

I just stood there, rooted to the spot in the foyer, and watched her make her way to her car. Am I seriously going to let this moment slip through my fingers?

Suddenly my feet were propelling me forward off the porch and down the walkway to her.

“Zoe!” I called out.

She paused and turned, a small crease between her eyebrows.

“Do you want to go to dinner sometime?” I blurted before quickly clarifying. “Without Charlie.”

A part of me was shocked by my actions while the other was impressed. I guess Wes’s words had stuck with me. If someone makes you happy, you’re allowed to move on.

Zoe did make me happy. I always found myself smiling around her even when that wasn’t her intention. She made Charlie happy, too, and that meant the world to me.

I wasn’t moving on, though. How could I ever “move on” from Sadie? Instead, I would be making more room in my heart for Zoe. If she wanted it, that is.

She hadn’t answered yet, and I grew jittery. The cold from the concrete soaked through my socks as I shifted back and forth on my feet. But then the corner of her lips ticked up before it turned into a full-blown smile. An endearingly shy one at that.

“Okay, yeah,” she answered, voice soft. “I’d like that.”

There was no hiding my dopey grin as my heart rate kicked into double time.

“Yeah? Okay, cool. I’ll um… I’ll figure something out and then let you know Sunday?”

“Sounds good. Goodnight, Jeremiah.”

“Goodnight, Zoe.”

I stood there, hands tucked in my pockets to keep away the chill as I watched her climb into her car and reverse from the driveway. She sent one last wave through the window, and I waved back.

It wasn’t until her car disappeared around the corner that it actually hit me.

I was going on a date.

Chapter 15

Jeremiah

“I don’t know, Wes. A tie seems a bit stuffy.”

I tugged uncomfortably at the knot around my neck, the fabric suddenly resembling a boa constrictor coiling tighter around my windpipe.

Wes’s face grew bigger on my phone screen as he leaned in closer to the camera, a prominent frown on his lips. Or at least what I could see of them. He was mostly eyeballs and nose at this point.

“You asked for my advice, didn’t you?”

I sighed heavily. “Yes, but this isn’t game day. I don’t need to be wearing a full suit and tie.”

“But this is game day! This is the biggest game day of all,” he insisted, sitting back once more. “My best friend is finally going on a first date.”

Now I really couldn’t breathe. One sharp tug unraveled the knot I’d redone at least five times, and I tossed the stifling tie to the side. The first two buttons of my shirt were next until I could finally suck in enough air to fill my lungs. I impulsively reached for the silver chain peeking out from underneath my shirt, tugging the necklace free. I ran my thumb over the smooth links until I reached my wedding band. It’d taken me over a year to take it off my finger, and even then, it’d mostly been because its presence prompted questions and inquiries from others about my wife. Wearing it on a necklace that I could tuck under my shirt saved me the heartache of explaining and kept away the pitying looks from strangers.

“Ooh, yes! Do that. That’s hot with a few buttons undone.” Wes’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. “And keep the suit jacket in case she gets cold. Nothing makes a girl swoon like a guy offering her his jacket.”

That earned him an amused smile as I eyed him through my phone.

“How often do you pull that move?”

“Oh, all the time.” He winked obnoxiously. “Perks of it being cool temps in Seattle more often than not.”

I had very clearly enjoyed seeing Zoe in my over-sized t-shirt. I could only imagine what seeing her in a dress with my suit jacket draped around her shoulders would do to me.

Okay, yeah. The blazer stayed.

I tucked the necklace back inside of my shirt, and the cool metal of the ring settled against my skin as I adjusted my collar, the small weight of it reassuring. Something settled inside my chest as well.

“Perfect,” Wes murmured, his words mirroring my thoughts. “You’re going to have a great night. I’m proud of you, Jay.”

I gave him a soft smile, grateful to have him in this moment, even if only through a screen.

“Thanks for talking me through it.”

“Anytime.”

I’d mostly kept my nerves in check as I drove to pick up Zoe from her apartment, but the second I hit downtown, the reality of it all hit me full force, tying my stomach into knots. My finger shook as I pressed the intercom button with Z. Daniels written neatly below it. I reminded myself to take deep breaths.

“Hey!” Zoe’s voice came through the speaker. “I’ll be right down.”

“Sounds good,” I replied lamely.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, unsure what to do with them since I didn’t have my miniature sketchbook on hand. I’d considered bringing it, but ultimately decided against it in hopes of pushing myself to not be so dependent upon it to regulate myself.

When I had first picked up the habit, I only ever doodled before hockey games or between periods when we were waiting in the locker room. After Sadie’s accident, it had become a permanent accessory, always shoved in my back pocket. I never left home without one and had filled up seven of them by the time the first anniversary of her passing had come around.

The door clicked open and all thoughts flew out of my mind the second Zoe stepped out in a satin emerald dress. It brought out the green in her hazel eyes and—God help me—it hugged her curves perfectly. Now my hands itched to smooth over the fabric covering her hip.

She smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I quickly scooped my jaw up from the ground and held my hand out to help her down the two short steps. “You look stunning.”

Her cheeks flamed a bright pink, and I smiled even wider.

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Her playful words helped cut through the sudden tension between us, putting us back into familiar territory, and my shoulders relaxed as I turned toward the car. She’d kept her hand in my own, and I felt like a giddy school boy walking a girl to class. I only let go to open the passenger door for her.

“So what is our Charlie girl up to tonight?” Zoe asked once I’d climbed in behind the steering wheel. Then she made a face. “Or is talking about children off limits on a first date?”

I chuckled, but her use of the word ‘our’ had my stomach doing a pleasant flip. However, I decided not to look too deeply into it. This was only our first date.

“She’s with my parents tonight having a sleepover,” I answered. “My mom texted me a picture of them making popcorn with melted marshmallows and chocolate drizzle.”

Reaching out to my parents to ask them if they could watch Charlie for the night had taken just about as much encouragement and not-so-gentle pushes from Wes as getting ready for this date had. I hated to inconvenience them at all. Especially for the selfish reason of going out with Zoe. But my mother’s audible excitement on the phone and insistence that I let Charlie sleep over more often lessened the guilt, if only slightly.

“Okay, I’m kind of jealous of her.”

“So you’re saying I should just turn around and take us back to my place for popcorn?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.

Zoe laughed and shook her head. “Maybe another time.”

Another time. I liked the idea of that.

Arriving at Montebello, I hurried around my car to open her door for her. Her lips parted, and I held up a finger to stop her before she could even utter a sound.

“I know that you’re an independent woman, but please,” I implored, “let me spoil you tonight.”

Her mouth clamped shut and she eyed me, but I could see her resistance waning. When she didn’t argue, I took that as a win. I offered her my arm, and she took it, walking inside with me to check-in for our reservation.

Montebello was like most fancy restaurants; dark fabrics save the white tablecloths and low lighting that lent to a more intimate atmosphere. The hostess sat us at a table near the back. I didn’t miss the flush in Zoe’s cheeks when I pulled her chair out for her. The ends of her hair brushed over my knuckles as she sat, and I took a self-indulgent second to admire the glossy waves.

“Thank you,” she mumbled softly.

“You’re welcome.”

I took my seat and reached for a menu, Zoe’s nose already buried in her own, presumably to hide her blush. Too bad I’d already seen it.

“Do you like wine?” I asked.

“Never acquired the taste for it. Or any alcohol for that matter.”

A knot loosened in my chest I hadn’t even realized was there.

“Do you drink?” She peeked over the top of her menu at me.

I quickly shook my head. “No. I’ve been sober for several years now.”

Her eyes lingered on mine, several questions in them that I could tell she wasn’t sure if she could ask.

“Drunk driver.” I found myself explaining before I’d even decided to do so. I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “It was a drunk driver that caused Sadie’s accident.”

And the loss of her life.

The waiter appeared with glasses of water, and I quickly took a drink in hopes of washing down the lump that had appeared. I waited until he’d left again before I continued.

“I was coming home from a series of away games. We landed in the middle of the night, but Sadie had her mom watch Charlie so she could pick me up.” I traced my thumb through the condensation on the glass. “I told her I could just get a ride share, but she insisted. Something about how she couldn’t stand to be separated for a minute more than necessary after being apart for so long.”

My eyes began to burn, and I blinked away the threat of tears the best I could. The irony didn’t escape me.

Zoe didn’t say anything for a couple heartbeats, but then she reached across the table to place her hand on top of mine, her palm warm in comparison to the ice water I was gripping like a lifeline.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

All I could manage was a nod in response, sure that my voice would only come out croaky. But Zoe didn’t waver, her gaze gentle and her touch a balm to the aching in my chest that seemed to never dull.

“What do you say, then, to ordering Shirley Temples?”

The spark of mischief in her eyes that I loved so much had returned, and her lips twitched as if dying to tug up into a smirk. I let out a short laugh.

“A Shirley Temple sounds pretty damn good right now,” I admitted.

That made a full-on grin appear as she sat up straight in her seat, unfortunately removing her hand from my own.

“Perfect.”

With our drinks settled, we set to the task of figuring out what to eat. Zoe had looked up the menu beforehand which meant she decided faster than I did. My problem was that everything sounded good.

As soon as our waiter appeared with our drinks, Zoe plucked the cherry out of the glass and bit it off the stem. I tried not to stare, but I wasn’t very successful if I was being honest with myself. The age-old belief that you were a good kisser if you could tie a knot in the stem with your tongue popped into my head and then I was thinking about kissing Zoe.

“Are you originally from Denver?” she asked.

I tilted my head back and forth. “Basically? My parents live in Aurora, but it’s close enough that I just say Denver when people ask. What about you? Have you always been a Colorado girl?”

“Unfortunately, no. I grew up just outside of Miami.”

“I would have never guessed.”

Zoe fit the stereotype of a Coloradoan far too well with her laidback personality and clear tolerance for the cold, seeing as how she hadn’t even bothered with a coat this evening despite the dropping temperatures.

“How on earth did you get into hockey, then? I can’t imagine it being a very popular sport down there.”

“Through Uncle Cal.”

“Wait.” I held up my hand to stop her, my eyes closing as I tried to process this new information. “Calvin is your uncle?”

All Calvin had told me when he decided to retire was that he’d found his replacement and would pass along the key. Easy enough.

Now that I really thought about it, though, I could see the similarities. While he had much darker blonde hair than Zoe, they had the same shade of hazel eyes. I really should have put two and two together.

“He has a habit of leaving out important information, apparently. He didn’t tell me you owned the rink, so of course he didn’t tell you that I was his niece.” She waved her hand dismissively and returned to the original question. “When I was four, we started visiting him and my Aunt Peg every winter break so we could actually have a white Christmas. That year, Uncle Cal had decided to build a little rink in his backyard and gifted me my first pair of skates. I fell in love the second I stepped onto the ice and held a stick in my hand.”

I smiled. “I know that feeling.”

I’d tried my hand at skiing as a kid and got tired of the monotony of going down the same hill over and over again. Hockey, however, was fast-paced and unpredictable at times. My mind didn’t have time to wander when I was on the ice.

“I left for Denver the day after my high school graduation, and I’ve been here ever since,” she said.

Her smile dropped ever so slightly at the end before she forced it back up. I would have asked more, but she continued talking.

“Maybe once the first solid snow arrives, you and Charlie can come to Cal’s with me, and we can play two-on-two.”

I raised a brow. “Ready for a rematch, are you?”

She matched my expression, that familiar spark of competition lighting her eyes.

“We tied again last time. One of us has to win at some point.”

Wes had been right, of course—not that I would tell him. The temperature had dropped significantly since we’d first entered the restaurant and Zoe had all too eagerly taken my blazer when I offered. Watching her nuzzle into the warmth of it just about did me in. It was hard to focus on driving when she looked so cute in my passenger seat.

We’d barely made it a couple blocks from the restaurant when Zoe gave me a heart attack, gasping and clamping her hand down on my arm.

“Miah, look!” She tapped a couple times against the glass in the direction of City Park. A large sign advertised the Boo at the Zoo event. “I’ve always wanted to go, but somehow, I end up missing it every time. Maybe I can get Jada to go now that Bash is bigger.”

I shook my head. “Hold on. Miah?”

My lips threatened a smirk as I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, but Jeremiah is just too damn long. Four syllables? Really? My name is only two, and I still shorten it.”

A laugh burst out of me. “I wasn’t the one who chose my name.”

She wasn’t wrong, though. Jeremiah was quite a mouthful, so I was used to nicknames. Playing hockey, you never got called by your full name anyway. I’d been Fielder, Lang, Langy; whatever rolled off the tongue the easiest.

“Why not Jere?”

She scrunched her face and quickly shook her head as if she’d just downed a shot of bitter cough syrup. “You are not a Jere.”

I rubbed my thumb along the steering wheel. I’d never been called Miah before, but the sound of it on her lips made my chest warm like that first sip of hot cocoa on a cold day.

“I like Miah,” I mumbled softly, not daring to glance in her direction. I didn’t need her to see just how flustered I was by the nickname.

“Good.” She nodded. “Miah it is, then.”

Unfortunately, her apartment was closer to Montebello than I liked. I would have wound around the city more just to keep spending time with her if I thought I could get away with it. But as the saying goes, all good things come to an end.

Zoe waited this time for me to open her door. I was even more disappointed to see that she had shed my blazer and set it neatly on the console.

“You know, I’ve never done the whole… fancy restaurant date thing before,” she admitted as she slipped her hand into mine.

My insides lit up when she intertwined our fingers.

“Really?”

She shrugged. “My last relationship was in college, and neither of us had the money for something like this.”

I mulled over the new information as we walked to her building.

“How did I do, then? Did it live up to your expectations for a fancy restaurant date?”

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and Zoe stepped onto the first before turning to me so we were eye-to-eye thanks to her heels. She wore a pleased smile. My gaze lingered on her cherry red lips a second longer than necessary.

“One hundred percent. I had a great time tonight,” she said.

“So did I. It's been a while since I’ve had a Shirley Temple. Forgot how delicious they are.”

Her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head as she laughed. There was a hint of nerves in her laugh, and it brought me comfort to know that she felt the same as me. It had been such a long time since someone made me nervous, and that was definitely the case with Zoe. But in a good way. A way I craved more of.

But then she looked up at me in a way that had my heart catching in my throat, those hazel green eyes of hers sparkling even in the dark. I tried to take a deep breath, but it came as a shallow inhale instead.

“Would you like to go on another date sometime?” I finally got out.

She bit her lip, but her smile still peeked through. “I’d love to.”

My fingers fiddled at my sides, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch her. To put my hands on her hips like I’d wanted to earlier and pull her toward me for a kiss.

It must have been written all over my face, because Zoe draped her arms around my neck and leaned in close. I didn’t hesitate to meet her halfway, one hand finally coming to rest on her waist while the other slipped under her hair to cup the back of her neck.

The kiss was all Zoe; sweet and tender, but an undeniable confidence in it as she took control. My lips still tingled even when she pulled away, her hands gliding over my shoulders in the most delicious way before she stepped back out of my reach, leaving me reeling there on the sidewalk.

“Goodnight, Miah.”

“Goodnight, Zoe,” I all but whispered.

I stayed rooted there even after the door shut behind her and she disappeared into the building. For the first time ever, I wanted to figure out how to balance being in a relationship with being a father, and that was a daunting desire to have.

Chapter 16

Zoe

“You kissed him?” Jada’s mouth gaped open. “And on the first date?!”

I frowned at her. “Why is that such a surprise?”

She only gave me a look in return, and even I knew that it was a stupid question. Given my track record when it came to dating, it was a miracle if I let a guy kiss me by the third date. That is if they even made it to a third date. I’d dodged my fair share of kisses, but that had been the furthest thing from my mind last night.

It had already been the best date I’d ever been on—past relationships included—with easy conversation and banter. Hell, if the waiter hadn’t been burning holes into the sides of our heads, we could have easily shut the place down. So when I stood at his height and those golden eyes of his were looking at me like that, every rule I had for first dates went out the window.

“Judging from that moony look on your face right now, I’m going to take it that he’s a good kisser.”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

It hadn’t even been that long of a kiss, but I had replayed it in my mind so many times before I fell asleep, that I dreamt of us kissing.

Jada smirked at me from across the kitchen, having abandoned decorating the bridal shower cookies on the counter behind her. No, all of her attention was locked on me.

“Have you planned a second date?”

“I mean, he asked me on a second date, but we didn’t say when or where.”

I still hadn’t really wrapped my mind around the first. Good things didn’t usually happen to me, and this was definitely a good thing. But screw not looking a gift horse in the mouth; life had burned me far too many times for me to blindly accept the possibility of something between me and Miah.

My phone buzzed on the far table where we packaged outgoing orders, and I leapt across the room to grab it. Maybe Miah’s ears were burning and he was texting to plan something. My stomach did a flip-flop of excitement, but then I tapped my screen and it plummeted.

Jada stepped up beside me. “What is it?”

I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly dry. I read over the text again. It’s been forever! Understatement of the century.

“Carter is going to be in town and wants to catch up.” My voice didn’t even sound like mine.

“Carter? As in Leslie Carter? Your old teammate?”

I winced before nodding.

Carter and I had played hockey together in college. In fact, we’d been on the same line our last year before we were both drafted for different teams in the PWHL. She was now in her tenth year in the league, and the reminder that I could have been right there with her was a stab to the heart.

When I had my accident, she had tried to be supportive—even when she moved to Minnesota and started training camp with the Vortex—but I never responded to any of her texts or calls. Eventually they stopped.

I’d been so furious about my dreams slipping out of my fingers that I couldn’t be happy for my friend. Every text was just a bitter reminder that she was living the life I wanted. The life I had worked so hard for, only to have it ripped away from me at the last second. Just when I could taste it.

Guilt shot through me like electricity as I read her text again. Even after shutting her out and ignoring her for ten years, she was still trying to be my friend, and I didn’t deserve it.

“Are you going to meet up with her?” Jada asked softly, as if speaking to a mountain lion poised for attack.

And maybe that’s what she thought I’d do; snap at her just like I had all those years ago when she’d encouraged me to let people help. I’d used whatever means necessary to push everyone away, whether it be silence or harsh words that cut deep. I’d been successful for the most part, but Jada had taken the blows without blinking an eye and continued to show up and show me love. I don’t think I would have survived that dark period of my life had it not been for her, Uncle Cal, and Aunt Peg.

I pursed my lips, my thumb picking at the rubber of my phone case. “Maybe. I mean… she’ll be busy with morning practice and the game, so it’d just be a short meet up, right?”

We both knew I wasn’t really asking her. I was just trying to logic it out with myself and find a way to lessen the guilt of dropping one of my closest friends while also protecting my own mental health. I’d never recover completely from my accident, but I didn’t need to purposefully cause myself to regress. A shiver slid down my spine at the mere idea of falling back into that darkness.

My phone buzzed again, and my heart rate spiked as I glanced down to read the new text.

And then there it was; a small, but strong light guiding me away from the dark shadows creeping around my ankles.

“Jeremiah?” Jada guessed.

I didn’t even look at her. The corner of my lips curving up just a touch was more than enough of an answer for her.

She wrapped her arm around me and gave me a small, affectionate squeeze. “He looks good on you, Zo,” she murmured. My cheeks flushed. “Keep him.”

Excusing myself, I went to the office for some privacy while Jada returned to the cookies.

The dial tone made me feel like I was back in middle school calling my crush on the landline. Now I was a thirty-two-year-old woman calling her crush and still feeling just as ridiculously giddy about it. Thankfully, it only rang a handful of times before Miah answered, and then his warm, deep voice had me melting back against Jada’s desk.

“Hey.” The smile was clear in his voice, and I could perfectly picture that crooked grin of his.

“Hi.”

“So what’s this solution of yours? I’d really like to stop getting side eyes from my daughter if at all possible.”

“How would she feel about going to the Minnesota Vortex game when they play here in Denver next month?”

Going by myself to the game was unfathomable. It’d be an absolute miracle if I even made it into the arena. However, the arduous task of facing my demons head-on seemed a bit more manageable with Miah and Charlie by my side.

“She would lose her mind. It’s her dream to see a PWHL game in person, but we’ve never been able to make it to one.”

This was definitely happening, then. I would never allow myself to disappoint Charlie, even if it meant making a sacrifice of my own. Hopefully her excitement would be a distraction from my feelings of grief and jealousy.

“I’ll ask for three tickets, then.”

“She already loves you so much. After this you’re going to be a goddamn superhero to her.”

My cheeks flushed, and I was glad he wasn’t there to see how pink I’d turned.

I tried to laugh off the compliment. “It’s just a game.”

He could have easily argued, but instead he simply responded with, “If you say so.”

He was right, though. It wasn’t just a game. Not for Charlie. And especially not for me.

Chapter 17

Zoe

I blinked repeatedly as if that would change what I was seeing on Miah’s laptop screen. There was no way those numbers could be correct. There had to be a glitch in the form. Somehow, we’d had twenty-eight women sign up for the women’s rec league in just the one week we’d had the form up on the rink’s website.

“Damn. I knew there were female hockey players in the area, but I didn’t realize there were that many.”

Miah shook his head, just as shocked as I was. “I’ve gotten countless emails personally thanking us for starting the league.”

It was impossible to feel anything but proud. We had done this. We had provided female athletes with an opportunity to play with and compete against other wo-men. No gender rules, just good ol’ hockey, as it should be. What we had done probably wouldn’t fully hit me until I saw them all out on the ice.

“Okay, so what’s next then?” I asked, even more eager to get to work.

League logistics was where I was out of my element, though. That was all Miah.

He pulled his laptop more toward him and opened up another document where he’d laid out step-by-step instructions. Boy, did I love a man with a plan. If only my brain worked like that.

“Some already have teams, but there’s a good amount that are free agents. There’s also varying skill levels, so we need to determine how we’re going to handle that. We don’t want one team just dominating the league.”

I pursed my lips and leaned my arms on the desk as I eyed the forms Miah had printed so we could better visualize what we were working with.

“How about we organize them by skill level and then distribute them as evenly as possible among the teams?” I suggested.

Miah waved his hand at the forms. “Have at it.”

Sorting things into piles was a form of organization that I could do. After moving everything to the floor so I had plenty of space, I started by separating out the forms for those who had a team already established. Then I got to work on the free agents, grouping them by skill level for now. It wasn’t surprising that the pile of athletes who hadn’t played in years ended up being larger than our highly skilled players. There hadn’t been many opportunities for them to play beyond college. Until now.

While I tried out different combinations for teams, Miah researched jerseys.

“What do you think? Plain colors or let them create a team name and logo?”

He looked so cute when he was focused, jaw cocked to the side and a slight wrinkle between his brows. God, he was distracting. Even more so now that I knew what it felt like to kiss him.

His amber eyes suddenly met mine. As if he knew what I’d just been thinking, Miah’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Can I help you, Cupcake?”

Why was that basic nickname so damn endearing?

“No,” I muttered, returning to the task at hand.

But this was Miah, and there was no way he was going to drop it. I could hear his chair roll back across the rug and his soft footsteps as he rounded the desk before kneeling down in front of me. His finger hooked under my chin and he lifted my face up to his. It was a good thing I was already on the ground, because my knees would have given out under that intense gaze of his.

When he leaned in, his lips just barely brushed against mine. That was not enough for me. I lifted slightly to deepen the kiss. I could feel Miah smiling into it. He pulled back far sooner than I would have liked, though.

“If you want a kiss, you can just ask. Or take it.” He shrugged. “I’m fine with either.”

I glared playfully in a vain effort to disguise just how flustered I was.

“Noted,” I mumbled.

He grinned before pushing up, but not without a soft groan. I giggled, and he shot me a look.

“You won’t be laughing when it’s time for you to get up.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Let’s go with simple colors this go-around,” I said. “Then as teams get established, they can have logos.”

“Maybe we could find a local artist to team up with for the graphics.”

I grinned. “I love that.”

We worked in companionable silence until I decided the teams were good enough. Of course, I’d let Miah look them over before anything was set in stone.

“You’re going to captain a team, right?” Miah asked.

My stomach launched into my throat, and I was seconds away from upchucking my lunch all over the forms. Thankfully, Miah was behind me so he couldn’t see how the blood had leeched from my face.

I forced out a laugh. It sounded distant even to my own ears, as if I were underwater.

“No, no. I’m just helping you run this. That’s where my involvement ends.”

There were two painful beats of silence where I felt his eyes on the back of my head, my neck prickling under its intensity.

“Seriously? I thought for sure you’d jump at the chance to play.”

I pressed my hand hard against my chest where my heart was running at a full-speed gallop. Playing in the league hadn’t even crossed my mind before now. Getting on the ice to coach the Puffins or playing one-on-one with Miah and Charlie were ways to dip my toes back into the world of hockey. Baby steps I could handle well enough. But actually competing? That was diving headfirst into the deep end, and I was nowhere near ready for that.

Doubts began to spiral through my mind.

You’ll never be as good as you used to be.

You’d be the worst player on the ice.

Going into fight or flight mode, I hurried to tidy up the piles, my hands needing something to occupy them. If my knees complained about me standing up, I didn’t notice with all the adrenaline pumping through me.

“I’ve got too much on my plate with work, coaching, and this.”

It was a poor excuse, but the best I could come up with in my current mindset.

“That’s true,” Miah—thankfully—agreed. I placed the stack of forms on the corner of his desk, and he leaned forward, encouraging me to meet his eyes. “I appreciate you making the time to help with this. And to just… be together.”

The sincerity in his gaze—and that small hesitation—pulled me out of my spiral enough that I no longer felt like I was drowning. Like a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog, he’d guided me back to solid ground.

“I will always make time for you,” I assured him, my voice barely more than a whisper. “And Charlie. Especially Charlie.”

We both grinned at that, and his laughter dissipated the tension in the office.

“So I come second to my own daughter.” He nodded once. “Got it.”

“Now I didn’t say that.”

“It’s those big, brown eyes of hers.” He let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly. “They get everyone.”

Little did he know that I was weak for his eyes as well. Possibly even more than I was for Charlie’s, it seemed.

Chapter 18

Jeremiah

Holding a pie in my hands while standing outside of my parents’ home gave me déjà vu. I half expected Sadie to round the back of my car with Charlie’s hand in hers at any moment. But it didn’t happen. Instead, Charlie skipped up the driveway to me by herself, dark locks bouncing around her shoulders.

“Do you think Grammy made deviled eggs?”

I chuckled. “I think she knows better than to forget your favorite dish.”

We always celebrated Thanksgiving early because my parents took their annual cruise during the actual week. When I was playing hockey, it’d worked out as I had a Thanksgiving game more often than not. Now it meant not having to make it to two family gatherings in one day, which was a blessing as a single father of a young child. Charlie could enjoy spending time with her cousins on Sadie’s side of the family without me having to drag her away to my parents’, and she didn’t get so utterly exhausted that she turned into a grouch. It was a solid tradition all around.

My mom opened the door before we’d even stepped foot on the porch, most likely having been watching for us while Dad prepared dinner.

“There’s my little turkey.” Mom hugged Charlie close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. At this point, there really wasn’t much more than a foot of difference in height between them. She held the door open wider for us both to step in. “What did you bring?”

I held the pie out for her to see, and her cheery smile slipped, her eyes darting up to mine.

“Did you ma—”

I shook my head before she could finish. “Got it from a bakery.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Zoe did in fact make it at work in the bakery.

“It looks just like hers did,” Mom said, staring at the pie once more as if it were a mirage that would disappear if she blinked.

The apple pie had a lattice crust with a bundle of leaves in the center. After our conversation, Zoe had been more than happy to create it for us. She’d apparently gone through two prior attempts at the crust before she deemed it good enough. Personally, I thought it was stunning. Sadie would have been proud.

“Zoe made it!” Charlie chimed in, already shedding her coat. She almost dropped it right where she stood, but I caught her eye, and she hurried to hang it up on the nearby coatrack.

Mom’s eyebrows crinkled as she looked between the two of us. “Zoe?”

“Yeah! She’s my new hockey coach, remember? Her and Daddy went on a date when I came to spend the night with you,” Charlie answered as if it were obvious.

She continued to ramble on about Zoe as she made her way to the dining room, leaving us no choice but to follow her. Something about Zoe and pickles. I wasn’t exactly paying attention, too busy avoiding my mom’s questioning look as she walked beside me.

I hadn’t told them why I needed Charlie to have a sleepover that night. Not that I was required to as their son. I was a thirty-one-year-old father who could make his own decisions without the opinion of his parents. Add on that it was only a first date, which could have gone terribly for all I knew—thank God, it didn’t. Based on her lingering stare, though, I would be hearing her opinion soon enough, whether I wanted it or not.

Dad entered the dining room at the same time as us, a platter of freshly carved turkey in his hands. Despite it only being the four of us, my parents still prepared an exorbitant amount of food. Charlie and I were always grateful for the leftovers sent home with us, but we could only eat the same meal so many times a week.

“Is that pie?”

Dad had zeroed in on the dessert I still held in my hands, eyeing it my entire trip around the dining table to the kitchen.

“Apple?” he asked hopefully.

“Wouldn’t bring anything else.”

I placed the pie in the kitchen for now alongside the no-bake cookies my mom had made. My lack of baking skills most likely came from her.

Mom left the topic of Zoe alone until after dinner when she cornered me in the kitchen. Coincidentally, just as I was getting a slice of the pie that had started this whole thing. I calmly cut a decent slice and transferred it to a dessert plate before turning to face her.

“So this Zoe…” she started.

I let out a small sigh and took a bite. “Yes?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple times before she waved her hand around, as if that would help her put together the perfect sentence.

“I understand you wanting to date again, but… involving Charlie in it?”

My brows pulled together tight. “Involving Charlie?”

“Yes! You have to take her into consideration as well, not just your own wants and needs. If things go sideways, she’ll be heartbroken. You can’t just parade women in and out of her life.”

I shook my head, eyes closed as I tried to wrap my mind around the words that had just come out of her mouth. Now I was the one at a loss for what to say; the ability to string together a sentence or even a coherent thought suddenly lost on me. Did she even know me at all? Take her into consideration. Parading women.

“Mom, I’m not parading women in and out—God, it’s—” I set down my plate with a huff, the clattering of porcelain on the counter deafening in the confines of the small kitchen. “I am thinking about Charlie. All I ever do is think about Charlie and what’s best for her. And I wholeheartedly believe that’s Zoe.”

“How can you be so sure? You’ve known her for—”

“Charlie adores her,” I interrupted. “The second Zoe introduced herself at the first practice, Charlie wouldn’t shut up about her. Zoe’s a terrific role model for her. She’s a strong leader, a talented hockey player, and she is so kind and giving. Everything I would want Charlie to be. And Zoe loves Charlie.”

How did I put their bond into words? Let alone in a way that my mother would understand.

“The way they are together…” I shook my head. “When I see them together, it makes me the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Seeing someone love Charlie like that? Someone who has no biological ties to her? It’s all I could ever ask for.”

I took a steadying breath.

“She makes me happy. Plain and simple. She makes me laugh and feel things I didn’t think I could feel anymore.”

The kitchen grew silent as my mother squirmed beneath my unwavering gaze. Everything I’d said had been the truth. The only thing I may have left out was that I was falling in love with Zoe, too. Between the hours spent planning for the women’s rec league together, seeing her at Puffins practices and games, and a handful of dates, the snowballing feelings I’d tried so hard to fight before had turned into a full-on avalanche. And I was done fighting against it.

“I’m sorry,” Mom finally spoke up. “I know I can trust you, but…”

Tears built in her eyes and I didn’t hesitate to step forward and wrap her in my arms. She gave into my touch and settled her head against my chest as she held me in return.

“I don’t want to ever see you two go through heartbreak like that again. I couldn’t stand it.”

Sadie’s death had affected everyone she loved. For my parents, she had been a daughter to them long before we said our vows. Not only had they grieved for her, but they’d grieved for me as well.

“I know, Mama,” I murmured softly.

We just held each other for a while before she finally stepped back, sniffling quietly as she quickly dabbed under her eyes.

“Do I get to meet her soon, then?”

A laugh rumbled deep in my chest, and I rested back against the counter, eyeing her playfully as I crossed my arms. “If you promise to play nice.”

Her jaw dropped, and she lightly swatted my arm, making me laugh more.

“Jeremiah Langfield,” she scolded, but it was half-hearted at best. “Of course. If she’s going to be a part of my son and granddaughter’s life, I want her to feel welcomed.”

“Good, because I want her to be. More than anything,” I admitted.

She smiled affectionately up at me before nudging my hip. “All right, now move over so I can get a piece of this pie before your dad eats it all. You said she works at a bakery?”

Despite talking things out with my mom, I still tossed and turned all night stressing—unnecessarily, I told myself—over Charlie’s feelings on the matter. My mom had planted the seed of doubt, and I knew I wouldn’t be confident until I had a chat with my daughter. She may only be seven, but she was capable of determining how she felt about something and voicing those feelings. Of that, I was very sure.

“Tot?”

“Hmm?” Charlie mumbled around the giant spoonful of cereal she’d just shoved into her mouth.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I asked, leaning on the island across from her.

She nodded, too busy attempting to chew her food to answer verbally.

“You know that Zoe and I went on a date, but do you know what that means?”

Her focused expression as she tried to chew faster would have made me laugh if I hadn’t been so sleep-deprived and anxious about this conversation.

“Yeah. You got dressed up and went to dinner at a restaurant like when you and I have our Daddy-Daughter dates,” she answered matter-of-factly.

I smiled. “Yes, we did. But our dates are a little different from the ones me and you have.”

Her head tilted to the side and her eyebrows crinkled.

“When adults go on dates, it’s to see if they like being around each other,” I explained.

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you and Coach Zo like being around each other?”

I couldn’t stop my laugh this time. “Yes. I very much enjoy being around her.”

“And she likes being around you, right?”

Now that I wasn’t so sure of.

“I believe so.”

“Okay.”

She returned her attention to her breakfast, assuming that was the end of the conversation. Unfortunately, that was the easy part.

“So when adults decide that they do like being around each other, they choose to be in a relationship with each other. Which means spending more time together.”

Her spoon paused mid-air as a hopeful smile crept onto her lips. “Does that mean she’s going to be around more?”

I pressed my lips together to tamper my own grin, all my fears and the doubts that had been rolling around in my head last night disappearing like the fog chased away by the sun.

“Yes. We’d get to see her outside of practice and games. She can come over to our house to hang out or we may go out to do something. All three of us.”

Now she was glowing, her grin almost too big for her little face. She leapt out of her chair and came racing around the island to tackle me in a hug. I barely managed to keep both of us upright. God, she was getting big.

She gave me a tight squeeze before letting out a sigh, her body sinking further into mine.

“I’m so happy you and Coach Zo like each other,” she murmured dreamily.

I ruffled her messy bed hair. “Me, too, Tot.”

Chapter 19

Zoe

Miah had been unusually quiet ever since he’d entered my apartment. At first, I was concerned that all the colors and knick-knacks were overwhelming, but then he’d wandered over to my bookshelf and commented on how cute my ceramic bear statue was. The man had good taste, at least.

“Is everything okay?”

He jumped as if I’d spooked him. “Huh? Yeah. Um...” 

He ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck, his large chest expanding further as he sucked in a deep breath. He looked more stressed than I’d ever seen him—and I’d seen the man pace anxiously during a Puffins game on several occasions.

“Miah.” I stepped forward and carefully reached for his hand.

He blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Sorry. Hi.”

I simply raised my brows, allowing him to open up to me when—or if—he felt ready to. He looked down at our hands as he took my other one and interlaced our fingers.

“Sorry, I’m very much out of practice. I haven’t had to ask this since I was a teenager, and it’s somehow just as stressful now as it was then.”

A spark of hope lit up in my chest, but I tried not to get too carried away. He could be asking me anything at all, but based on the context clues…

“Willyoubemygirlfriend?” The words rushed out of him in one fell swoop, and he cringed two seconds later. “That sounds so lame out loud.”

I bit my lip to keep my giggles in, but it was really hard not to find him and this situation so terribly endearing. Instead, I gave his hands a gentle squeeze and urged him to look at me.

“It’s not lame,” I promised. “And the answer is yes.”

He stared at me as if I’d spoken another language, my words not sinking in.

“Yes?”

Now I did laugh. A happy laugh that turned that spark inside of me into a roaring bonfire. “Yes, Miah. One hundred percent, yes.”

Within the span of a heartbeat, he’d dropped my hands, cupped my cheeks, and kissed me so deeply, I literally gasped. Miah had a knack for catching me on my heels, but I always caught back up. My fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and I held tight as I kissed him back just as fervently.

A scrum broke out in my head as various thoughts and feelings fought for the spotlight. Of course, there was an immense feeling of elation; getting to spend time with Miah was the highlight of every week. My guards easily came down around him, and I felt more like the Zoe in college, who was excited about life and hopeful for the future. I hadn’t known that girl for a long time, and it was good to have her back.

Along with that, though, came the fear that I’d slip back into the version of myself I’d been after my accident. Something would trigger that reflex of mine to shut down and close people out, and I’d ultimately hurt Miah. And Charlie. After all, I hadn’t been in a relationship since college. Did I even know how to be in a healthy one?

Miah pulled away just enough to look me in the eyes, his thumb stroking tenderly across my cheek and then back to rest at the corner of my lips.

“Where’d you go?” he asked softly.

“You’re not the only one who’s out of practice.” I gave his hoodie a light tug. “What if I don’t know how to be good at this?” 

His forehead dropped down to mine.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he promised. “We’re a team now, yeah?”

I let his words sink in, chasing away some of those more negative thoughts in my head. Unlike Blake, Miah wouldn’t leave my side if he could help it. I knew it deep in my bones. And I would fight tooth and nail to stay by his. Life had taken enough away from me; I wouldn’t allow it to take any more.

My lips curved up under his thumb. “So, who’s the captain?”

Miah grinned as well and a light chuckle escaped as he shook his head.

“How about co-captains?”

I pretended to ponder his suggestion for just a second to make him sweat and then nodded in agreement. “Co-captains.”

He stole another kiss before dropping his hands to my hips. “Now that that’s settled, and I no longer feel like I’m going to throw up, what do you say we get started on these cookies?”

To say I was shocked when Miah had offered to help me make cookies to take to my aunt and uncle’s was an understatement. I’d figured after the cupcake icing fiasco, he’d be content to leave all the baking to me, but instead he’d insisted on joining. Add on that it gave us alone time together, and I wasn’t about to say no.

“I’ll mix the ingredients and you can roll the dough and place it on the cookie sheet.”

Miah nodded gravely. “Probably for the best.”

After a thorough handwashing, I got to work on making the cookie dough while Miah prepped a couple trays and preheated the oven. The routine motions of baking allowed those negative thoughts to fade even further, everything narrowing down to the bowl in front of me. Although, Miah watching me while leaning attractively against the counter was a little distracting.

“You’re cute when you’re focused.”

“What?”

Miah just grinned at me. “I said, you’re cute when you’re focused.” He gestured to the space between his eyebrows. “You get this little wrinkle between your brows. It happens all the time during Puffins games.”

My cheeks burned, and, for once, I wished my hair was down so I could hide behind it. Instead, I swirled the wooden spoon around the bowl two more times to make sure the dough was sufficiently mixed and then nudged the bowl across the counter to Miah.

“Quit staring at me and roll the dough.” There was no bite to my words. Just a terribly flustered excuse to have his attention directed elsewhere.

Thankfully, he gave in.

I supervised as he scooped out a decent clump of dough and began to roll it between his large palms. He hesitated, though, whenever he went to place it on one of the cookie sheets.

“Is that too big?”

While it was larger than I would normally go for, it would be fine as long as the cookies were spaced out enough. “Uncle Cal will never complain about a large cookie.”

“Neither would Charlie.”

Despite his words, he made the next ball smaller than the first.

I placed the tray of cookies in the oven and then turned to find Miah still standing where I’d left him, his hands held out like a surgeon pre-op. They were far from sanitary, though. He would never be allowed into the operating room with his cookie dough covered mitts.

He looked up at me helplessly. “How on earth am I supposed to get this off? I tried scraping it off with the spoon, but there’s still a layer of it.”

I couldn’t hide my amused smile as I joined him at the counter, taking his left wrist in my hand and lifting it. My eyes flicked up to his before I leaned forward, licking the dough off of his hand from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.

His Adam’s apple bobbed dramatically, and I could have sworn I heard him gulp. And, God, his eyes. I’d seen them turn golden in the sunlight, but I’d never seen them grow so dark; his pupils expanding until only the mahogany brown of his irises were left.

I straightened up. “Damn, those cookies are going to be delicious.”

“Zo,” he warned, his head tilting in the most adorable way. But there was nothing adorable about the look he gave me. Or rather, gave my mouth.

“Try some,” I encouraged him.

I let go of his wrist and tilted my head up to him. Miah met me halfway, flicking his tongue against my upper lip before properly diving in. It was like the label of boyfriend and girlfriend had given him some sort of green light to not hold back. Definitely not physically, at least.

Given that my hands were dough free, I didn’t hesitate to bury them in the loose curls at the nape of his neck. The low hum that escaped him was all the encouragement I needed.

He moved his hand from between us so I could step closer, and then turned to fully face me. I pressed my body to his, letting out a hum of my own. God, he was built. I could only imagine what he’d looked like in the prime of his hockey career. Just that thought alone had my insides pooling with warmth.

Miah pulled back, and I took the opportunity to catch my breath. The sight of him standing with his hands awkwardly held out at his sides made me laugh, and he let out a chuckle as well, cheeks flushing.

“I didn’t want to get it on your sweater,” he explained. He took a step toward the sink, paused, turned for the paper towels, and then stopped again. “But seriously. How do I get this off?”

“Eat it. Then whatever’s left will be easier to wash off.”

He eyed me before repeating my actions from earlier, his own tongue dragging along his hand to gather up the worst of the dough. I couldn’t look away. Now I was the one gulping obnoxiously loud, but it was at least better than literally drooling over him. Nothing attractive about that.

Tearing my gaze away as he finished off what he could, I stepped around him to turn on the sink, letting the water run warm. While he finished cleaning himself up, I gathered all of our utensils in the bowl and placed it in the sink to soak.

Glancing at the microwave clock, I quickly did the math in my head, making a guesstimate of how long it’d been since I put the cookies in and then subtracting that from the time needed to properly bake. I’d just come to the decision that I’d give them thirteen more minutes before I checked them when Miah placed his hands on my waist, his large palms engulfing my hips.

He gently tugged me back into his chest and placed a kiss to the side of my head.

“Now I can properly hold you.”

I turned in his arms and smiled softly up at him, letting my hands rest on his pecs through his worn hoodie, the Seattle logo faint beneath my fingers.

“Good. I much prefer it this way.”

His lips pulled into a smile before he leaned down and placed them rightfully back on my own. I lifted up onto the balls of my feet, using my hands on his chest to keep me balanced as I tried to reduce the height difference between us.

Miah must have read my mind; his hands slid from my hips to hook around the back of my thighs, and he easily lifted me up to place me on the counter. Thankfully, the clean one. I draped my arms around his neck and spread my legs so he could step between them.

It was rare for us to have a private moment together. Usually we were in public, or Charlie was with us. So, we were both more than happy to take advantage of the opportunity to get lost in each other like this.

Miah’s lips wandered to my jaw, and I tilted my head back to give him more room, resulting in a soft knock as it met the door of the cabinet behind me. Miah pulled away so fast, he broke my hold on his neck. His hand shot up to cup the back of my head where it had collided with the cabinet.

“Are you okay?”

I just laughed.

“I’m fine. It wasn’t that hard of a hit,” I promised. “I’ve taken much harder.”

That made him smile, but he still shook his head at me.

“How about we wait for the cookies to be done, and then we move this somewhere safer?” I joked. “And comfier.”

“Good idea.”

Preventing temptation—or at least attempting to—he took a step back, but his hands remained on my thighs, thumbs stroking over the denim fabric covering them. My breath hitched when he brushed over the scar on my left thigh. To distract myself, I tugged on the strings of his hoodie.

“Have you ever thought about getting a new one?”

It could be a solid Christmas gift or present for his birthday.

He glanced down, bottom lip pouting ever so slightly. “But this one is all worn in and soft. A new one would just be stiff.”

I couldn’t deny that.

“Besides,”—he shrugged—“it’s the sentimental value. Sadie bought me this right after I got signed.”

I never got upset when he brought up Sadie. In fact, I was glad that he didn’t feel the need to keep her hidden from me. She had been his entire life for nine years and she was Charlie’s mom.

“At least it’s clean. Levi has a beanie from when he was on this competitive snowboarding team, and it’s nearly brown from sweat. Jada’s tried multiple times to get rid of it, but somehow, he always finds it.”

Miah’s nose wrinkled.

“Hockey stench is awful, but snowboarder stench is just as bad,” I said. “Like wet dog mixed with sweat and a hint of musk.”

“Zoe!”

“Sorry. Too detailed?” I giggled.

He bent down to press a kiss to the tip of my nose. “It’s a good thing your kitchen is filled with the delicious smell of baking cookies right now.”

At the reminder of cookies, I twisted around in my spot to check the time. I gently nudged Miah back far enough that I could slide off the counter. Bending down, I switched on the oven light and peered through the little window at the cookies to gauge their readiness.

“I’d say about two more minutes.”

“You know that just by looking at them?”

I stood upright, hands propped on my hips. “When you’re baking nine hours a day, five days a week, you get pretty good at it.”

Grabbing the wax paper, I prepped the counter my butt had previously occupied for the cookies to cool on. Miah opened a drawer to retrieve oven mitts and waited for my cue before removing the cookies from the oven.

“Good?”

I looked them over, analyzing the ratio of golden edge to soft center, and then nodded. “Perfect.”

He held the tray for me as I scooped the cookies off and onto the wax paper. Then he placed it on the stovetop before returning the oven mitts to their designated drawer.

“So…” He casually took a step closer, a dark eyebrow raised. “Somewhere comfy now?”

His hands found my waist before I could even string together a response. My brain had short-wired seeing his eyes go dark again.

“Somewhere comfy.”

Chapter 20

Jeremiah

I’d filled up two pages in my sketchbook this afternoon leading up to dinner with Zoe’s aunt and uncle. My nerves made zero sense, but anxiety didn’t exactly care about logic. Sure, it was only a step down from meeting her parents—Calvin and his wife being pseudo parents for her ever since she’d moved to Denver—but I’d known Calvin since Charlie joined the Puffins three years ago. I hadn’t been dating his niece back then, though. Being a parent of one of his players was worlds away from being the boyfriend of his niece.

My heart stuttered at the title. Boyfriend. I still wasn’t used to it, but damn, did I like it.

As predicted, all the worrying was for naught. Calvin didn’t act any differently around me, and I found myself relaxing back into our familiar banter.

“Zoe here told me that she beat you playing one-on-one.” He smirked, eyes darting back and forth between the two of us.

My jaw dropped in shock, and I looked at Zoe incredulously.

“Excuse me?” I scoffed. “It ended in a tie, thank you very much,” I reminded her.

Zoe pointed a finger at me. “I would have had that last shot if you hadn’t cheated and picked me up,” she argued.

“Yeah, Daddy had to go to the penalty box for holding,” Charlie chimed in from across the table.

Calvin’s eyebrows rose, his amused smile just making me even more flustered as they teamed up on me.

I raised my hands to ward off any more jabs. “Hey. All’s fair in one-on-one.”

Especially when you had a crush on your opponent and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see what it felt like to hold her.

Heart-stopping was how it felt. Those two minutes in the Sin Bin were worth every second.

Calvin wiped his mouth with a napkin and then sat back in his seat, subconsciously rubbing his full belly. “How about a rematch now? I just have to turn on the lights around the rink, and you’ll be set,” he offered. “Can even get a bonfire going for Peg and me to watch.”

“I don’t know about that,” I hedged. My hand moved to rest on my own bloated stomach. I’d eaten far too much, but Peg’s food had been so good, I couldn’t get myself to stop piling more onto my plate. “I don’t think I could even bend over to get a pair of skates on.”

“Wait. You have your own hockey rink? Here?” Charlie asked.

“Yup. Wanna see?”

Calvin held his hand out to her, and Charlie nearly tipped her chair over getting out of it, dragging the poor man to the back door and the window that looked out over the yard.

“Daddy! They really do have their own rink.”

“Well now I know what she’ll be asking Santa for,” I joked under my breath.

As if she didn’t spend enough time on the ice up at the rink I owned. If we had one at home, I’d never get her out of her skates. That’s if I could even find room for it between the playground and trampoline.

Charlie turned, her eyes already pleading with me before she’d even opened her mouth. “Can we go skate, Daddy?”

I pressed my lips together, hating when I had to disappoint her.

“We forgot to bring your skates. I’m sorry, Tot.”

Peg waved her hand dismissively as she stood from the table. “That’s no problem at all. We kept all of Zoe’s skates from when she was little. There’s bound to be a pair that fits.”

Zoe’s brows furrowed and she spun to face her aunt and uncle.

“You kept all of them? Why?”

Skates weren’t cheap, and they probably could have made decent money selling the ones she’d outgrown. At least, that’s what my parents had done. Any money they made off of them went back toward new equipment and tournament fees. The only skates they saved were my very first pair.

Calvin shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes not quite meeting Zoe’s. “We wanted to save them for when you had little ones of your own.”

The muscle in Zoe’s jaw jerked, but otherwise she let no emotion show through. The topic of children hadn’t come up, so I wasn’t sure where she stood on having kids, but her reaction—however small it may have been—made me think that it was a bit of a tender subject.

Peg cleared her throat and reached her hand out to Charlie.

“Come on. Let’s go see what we can find.”

Charlie didn’t have to be told twice. She eagerly took Peg’s hand and led her down the hall herself.

“I’ll go get the bonfire started for us,” Calvin announced and then he was gone.

I waited until the door had clicked shut behind him before I reached over to rest my hand on Zoe’s leg. Her mind was clearly elsewhere. It took a few seconds for her to respond to my touch, but then she turned to me, a timid smile on her lips.

“You good?” I asked softly.

She nodded absently. “Yeah. I just… I suppose I feel a little guilty for letting them down. It’s not like they have anyone else to give them grandchildren.”

I frowned and adjusted in my seat so I could face her straight on.

“Do you want that? To have children?”

Her lips pursed. “I never really thought much about it when I was younger. It was just one of those inevitable things; when the timing was right and I’d done what I wanted to with my life.”

The tightness in her jaw returned as she seemed to mull something over in her mind. The more time I spent around her, the more I noticed her tells. One of them being that glazed over look she got in her eyes when she was lost in her thoughts.

“Then Jada and Levi had Bash, and the baby fever hit hard, but…” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s not like I had any prospects.”

Her hand came to cover her face and a small laugh slipped out of her that loosened the tight feeling of concern in my chest. I laughed with her.

“Are you really using hockey terminology in regards to your love life?” I teased lightly.

She sent me a half-hearted glare through the crack between her fingers, but then her cheeks lifted from the grin she was hiding.

“Does that make you my first draft pick?”

I sat up straight and jokingly puffed my chest out. “I’ll take it.”

She dropped her hand to rest on top of mine, shaking her head in a way that told me she thought I was a dork. Our laughter faded, and I inadvertently glanced toward the hallway where I could faintly hear Peg and Charlie, most likely playing Goldilocks to figure out which skates fit just right. My heart panged in my chest.

“Our plan was three,” I shared, voice barely more than a whisper. “Didn’t mean for Charlie to be an only child.”

Zoe followed my attention and then she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Our eyes were once more drawn back to each other, the glazed look in her hazel eyes gone and the green specks in them bright again. I turned my hand over to interlace our fingers.

The pattering of socked feet coming down the hall broke the moment.

“We found a pair!” Charlie cheered, holding up the skates for us to see. “And they have purple laces.”

Zoe held her hands out to get a closer look, cradling the skates almost reverently.

“I remember these. I swore that the purple sparkles made me skate faster.” She smiled at Charlie. “Should we test them out?”

Charlie nodded like a bobble head, somehow even more excited now. We retrieved our coats from the foyer, and I helped her bundle up, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck before we all filed outside.

“Wow,” Charlie breathed.

‘Wow’ was right. String lights bathed the small rink and surrounding piles of snow in a warm glow. Next to it were several outdoor chairs, most of them gathered around the fire pit.

“Can one of you grab some more firewood while you’re up there?” Calvin called to us.

I shooed the girls off. “I got it. You two go skate.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Zoe and Charlie beelined for the chairs closest to the rink to get their skates on. I watched them walk off, hand in hand, the sight warming me more than any fire could.

Calvin smiled gratefully once I joined him with an armful of logs. We worked together to build the fire, making sure it had a solid start before we retired to our own chairs. Calvin and Peg sat close together, their gloved hands intertwined on the armrests between them.

What Zoe had said earlier came to mind. In all my time of knowing Calvin, I’d never realized that he didn’t have any children. I’d just assumed he did with how great he was with all of the kids on the team. Seeing him and Peg with Zoe, though, it was clear to see that she filled that void for them.

Zoe was the same as her uncle. She just had a way with kids, and I knew she’d make a great mom one day if the way she cared for Charlie was any indicator.

“Daddy, watch!” Charlie called out.

Her and Zoe were apparently participating in an interesting mix of hockey and figure skating, seeing who could score the best goal while balancing on one skate. Charlie couldn’t keep her leg up nearly as high as Zoe did, no matter how hard she tried to imitate her. Like most things, Zoe made it look as easy as breathing.

“She’s a natural.”

Calvin chuckled beside me, the affection he held for Zoe clear in the warmth of the sound.

“That’s exactly what I said the first time I saw her step out onto this rink. She had to have only been four?” He looked to his wife for confirmation, and Peg nodded in agreement. “She’d never seen snow, let alone stepped foot on the ice, but she glided out there like it was what she was made to do.”

Every move of hers seemed effortless, as if her body knew what it needed to do without her even thinking about it.

“Why didn’t she go pro?” I asked.

Any agent or team would have been insane not to snatch her up with the combination of talent and clear passion she possessed.

The wonder in Calvin’s expression faded, the glow of the fire making him look somber, and he shifted in his seat. Peg had grown more serious next to him as well.

“She was drafted by the Boston Rebels, but…” He hesitated before seemingly coming to some sort of decision, his head shaking almost imperceptibly. “That’s her story to tell.”

Chapter 21

Zoe

Charlie started slowing down on me, her reflexes not as sharp. I would happily call it a night and retire to the fire. My toes were numb, either from the cold and my lack of warm socks or from skating so much. Most likely, a combination of the two.

“What do you say we go warm up by the fire?” I suggested.

“Okay,” Charlie agreed, panting slightly.

We skated over to the seats at the edge of the rink where we’d left our boots. I dreaded the thought of slipping on my cold boots that had spent the last hour or so sitting in the snow, but the idea of getting to curl up by the fire—hopefully with Miah—was enough motivation to get me moving. I tried to be quick, so my feet spent as little time out in the elements as possible. Then I moved to help Charlie who was still struggling to untie the laces of her skates with her gloved fingers.

When we returned to the fire, we found Aunt Peg waiting with a blanket for Charlie.

“I was just about to head up to the house for some hot chocolate. Would you like to join me?”

Charlie perked up right away. “Yes, please!”

Aunt Peg draped the wool blanket around her shoulders and then took her hand to lead her back to the house.

Uncle Cal whipped around in his seat. “Did you say hot chocolate?”

He didn’t even wait for confirmation before hurrying after his wife.

“I’ll bring you two a couple mugs,” he called over his shoulder.

I shook my head affectionately and then claimed his spot, the seat blissfully warm from him sitting in it since we’d gotten outside. The sound of three pairs of boots crunching through the snow slowly faded until there was the tell-tale creak of the back door opening and closing.

Noticing movement from the corner of my eye, I turned to find Miah scooting his chair closer to mine.

“Hi,” he grinned cheekily.

Why was he so damn cute? Charlie sure came by it honestly.

“Hi. Uncle Cal didn’t talk your ear off, did he?”

Miah shook his head. “I fully enjoyed the conversation.”

When he held out his hand, I took it all too eagerly, craving any touch I could get from him. Bonus points if it brought feeling back to my frozen fingers. If the others weren’t planning on coming back, I would have totally climbed into his lap to soak up his warmth. I’d have to just settle for the fire and his hand for now.

He was silent as he absently played with my fingers, seemingly focused on them before his eyes flicked back up to me.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been drafted for the PWHL?” he asked, his voice soft as falling snow. But his question shot through my chest like a shard of ice.

Now I was the one staring at our intertwined fingers, unable to look into his golden eyes lest he see more than I was ready to show him.

“Because I didn’t even make it to training camp.”

Miah was quiet next to me, allowing me to process my thoughts and decide what to share. Just like he had done earlier in the dining room. The thing was, I didn’t know how to open up about it when I was still so disappointed in myself. But this was Miah I was talking to. I knew he’d never make me feel bad and never to the extent I made myself feel.

“A couple weeks before camp, I went hiking with Jada and Levi. We didn’t pay attention to how long the trail was, and by the time we turned around, the sun was already setting.”

I sank further back into my seat as if I could hide away from the memories if I just made myself small enough.

“We entered an area of the forest where it was darker, and I took a misstep.” I swallowed thickly. I could see the looming shadows of the trees as if they were right in front of me. Could feel the scrape of their roots and the rocks that held them to the mountainside. “I slid down the side of a big drop and broke my femur halfway down.”

I could still hear the snap. Hear Jada’s scream from above. It hadn’t hurt at first, I was completely numb, and then it hit me; white hot and blinding pain.

“They had to LifeFlight me off the mountain.”

I hadn’t cried from the pain. No, it had been the realization that I wouldn’t be playing hockey that had sent tears trickling down my cheeks as I lay strapped to the gurney, wondering how my life had ended so fast. No matter how great the surgery went or how well I did in physical therapy, there was no way the Rebels would wait on me to possibly be at the same level I had been when they’d drafted me.

Miah’s thumb stroked soothingly back and forth across the back of my hand before he slipped it under my glove to press it against my pulse point, grounding me as much as he could.

“I’m sorry that opportunity was taken away from you.”

It was only then that I tore my gaze from the fire to look at Miah, the flames still dancing behind my eyelids. I was so used to people not understanding and telling me that I was being dramatic. That it was only a sport, and there was more to life. But Miah had been in my shoes. He had lost his hockey career, too.

“Did you retire because of Sadie?”

He gave a whisper of a nod. “I tried to play another season. Hired a nanny for Charlie and everything, so she could be on the road with me. But I was still gone too much, and that wasn’t the life I wanted for her. She’d already lost one parent. I didn’t want to be absent in her life as well.”

“Do you miss it?” I asked, even though I thought I knew the answer. I still needed further reassurance that he could relate. Or was Charlie enough for him?

He let out a breathy laugh that held no humor. “Like hell. I thought buying a rink might help the transition, but it doesn’t quite fill the hole left behind.”

It was exactly how I felt about coaching. Sharing my passion with kids who enjoyed the sport just as much as me was the best part of my week. Most of the time it filled my cup, but other times, it just made me miss playing even more. To be in their shoes with so much potential and so much future ahead of me.

“How long did it take for you to heal?” Miah asked, his free hand rubbing up and down my thigh as if he could erase the scar tissue there.

“A little over six months, what with physical therapy and all.” Mentally, though? Well, I was still working on that. “It took me longer to get back on the ice.”

I’d never been one to stay away from the ice longer than I had to. If there was a rink anywhere nearby, I wanted to be in it. But after my accident, it was too painful. I couldn’t even look at the little rink Charlie and I had just skated on, demanding that my aunt keep the curtains in my bedroom closed so I wouldn’t have to risk seeing it. The thing that had once brought me so much joy had only added to the heartbreak.

“But how did you feel when you finally got back out there?”

Warm tears stung my eyes. “Like I was finally home again.”

He tugged lightly on my hand and leaned forward so I was forced to look at him. His eyes were glowing in the firelight.

“Because you are meant to be in the rink. Even if it isn’t in the way you’d always imagined.”

His words wrapped around my heart, healing the fractures left behind.

I brought our hands up to press my lips to his bare knuckles, his skin warm despite the cold. A tear or two managed to escape. I’d never felt as seen as I did by Miah.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He quickly kissed away the tears, catching them before they reached my chin. Then he lowered our joined hands so he could kiss me. I leaned into him, letting the gentle sweep of his lips over mine wipe away all the negative thoughts and memories and banish them back to the dark corners of my mind where they normally lurked. It was easier to keep them at bay lately, and I had the feeling that it was because of this wonderful man coming into my life. And Charlie? Well, she was just the icing on top.

Our lips parted, and I made a soft noise of protest when Miah leaned back. I just wanted to be close to him, to lose myself in him, just for a little bit longer. But then he tugged me into his lap, and I all too eagerly obliged, nestling myself against him with my face tucked into the warm crook of his neck.

Miah flinched. “Your nose is cold. Especially your nose ring.”

I let out a small laugh. “Sorry.”

Instead of pulling away, though, he just wrapped his arms around me further.

“It’s okay. Just means I need to warm you up.”

Nothing sounded better.

It was then that I remembered we weren’t alone, despite previously feeling as if we were the only two people in the world.

“Wait.” I lifted my head. “What happened to my uncle coming back with hot chocolate for us?”

Miah looked around as well, his eyebrows crinkled together. A glance up at the house showed no movement through the windows.

“Maybe they saw us talking and didn’t want to interrupt,” Miah offered.

Whatever their reason for not returning, I was grateful for it. I felt cracked open and raw. I’d never told anyone my story. I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d faced the memories of my accident straight-on. But I could breathe easier now having shared them with Miah.

Chapter 22

Zoe

Miah might as well have been the rope in a game of tug-of-war, his arms stretched in opposite directions trying to keep a hold of both mine and Charlie’s hands. Charlie walked as fast as her little legs would take her, dying to get to the arena, and then there was me, dreading what awaited me inside and dragging my feet.

I’d been sick to my stomach all day, and I’d considered cancelling more times than I could count. But every single time I picked up my phone to text Carter and tell her we weren’t coming, Charlie’s precious, little face popped into my head and I put it back down.

Carter hadn’t been able to meet up today since the team had barely gotten to Denver with enough time for a pre-game skate due to weather, but we made—tentative—plans to grab lunch tomorrow before they left. It at least bought me another day before I had to properly face her on my own after shutting her out for so long. Maybe by then I would be able to put into words how sorry I was for it.

At least I would have Charlie there as a buffer tonight. Carter had invited the two of us to sit on the bench while the team warmed up. Charlie had squealed so loud when I told her that my ears rang for several minutes after. I, on the other hand, had heart palpitations.

But I would do it for Charlie. Anything for her. The whole point of this was to have a special night for the two of us. And it would be. Even if I had to fake a smile all the way through it.

Miah walked with us into the back area, having already known his way around thanks to Wes, but that ended when we reached the doors that lead to the locker rooms. Charlie moved to stand in front of her dad, blocking his path.

“It’s girls only, Daddy.”

“Yeah. No boys allowed,” I managed to tease.

His eyes narrowed slightly at me, but the corner of his lips twitched in amusement. Outnumbered, he took a step back.

“I get it. Let you have your special time with Zoe and the team. I’ll get some pictures of the two of you out there.” He bent down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “Have fun, Tot.”

“I will!”

Miah shook his head before turning to me. He didn’t even hesitate to lean in and give me a kiss as well, except mine was on the lips. I glanced nervously toward Charlie. We’d never shown any affection around her outside of hugs or holding hands. But she just grinned up at us like the Cheshire Cat, and, if anything, that just made my cheeks burn even more.

Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me through the doors. Miah shot me an encouraging thumbs up before they swung shut behind us. I spotted Carter as soon as we rounded the corner, talking to a staff member. I’d recognize her tall frame anywhere. Her dark waves were braided and wrapped up in a secure bun at the nape of her neck, her signature hairstyle. The nostalgia hit me hard.

She turned at the sound of our footsteps echoing along the concrete and hurriedly excused herself from her current conversation before jogging over to us.

“Danny!”

God, how long had it been since I’d heard that nickname?

I forced a smile onto my face as Carter held her arms out for a hug. With her pads already on, I could barely get my arms around her.

“Hey, Carter.”

She pulled back to look me over, and I wilted under the scrutiny of her dark brown eyes.

“Wow. It’s been, what? Ten years? And you still look exactly the same as you did in college.”

I scoffed, waving her off. “Oh, hush. You look amazing. Far more in shape than I am.”

Carter opened her mouth to argue, but then she registered Charlie beside me and instantly bent down to her height.

“You must be Charlie. Zoe told me that you’re a goalie. Is that true?”

I’d never seen Charlie at a loss for words, but she was starstruck. All she could do was give her a shy smile and the smallest hint of a nod.

Carter wasn’t fazed. “I’ll have to introduce you to our goalie, Marley.”

Then she stood and turned her dazzling smile back onto me once more. I subconsciously reached for Charlie’s hand again, more so to ground myself than to keep her close. I trusted her not to wander. Couldn’t say the same for myself.

“I have a surprise for the both of you. Come with me.” Carter waved for us to follow her back in the direction she’d come from.

I noted that the employee she’d been talking to was still where she’d left him. He smiled politely as we approached and then handed a large merch bag to Carter before dismissing himself. Carter set the bag on the ground to remove its contents.

“We got these specially made just for the two of you. If you’re going to be on the bench, then you have to be properly repping the Vortex.”

She held up a child-sized jersey with LANGFIELD stitched across the shoulders. Charlie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. She eagerly took the jersey and held it close to her chest.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. I have a feeling that won’t be your last PWHL jersey.” Carter winked at her.

Then it was my turn. She held out the adult jersey to me, and I stared at the bundle of fabric in her hand for an extra beat. I never did end up getting a PWHL jersey with my name on it. This one felt like a pity prize. It wasn’t from the Rebels and I’d never wear it as an actual professional athlete. I’d never check a girl into the boards with it on or block a shot that had snuck past my goalie. It was just like any other custom fan jersey. And that hurt more than I expected.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, finally taking it from her. I didn’t even open it to look at the back.

If I came off as ungrateful, Carter didn’t let it show.

“I’ve got to finish getting ready. A couple staff members will meet you at the tunnel to walk you out to the bench.” She smiled down at Charlie. “And I’ll see you out on the ice.”

She returned to the locker room, and I just stood there in a stupor, the jersey hanging limply in my hand until a gentle tug on my sleeve drew me back.

“Zo, can you help me put it on?”

If anything could pull me out of the rabbit hole I was quickly spiraling down, it would be Charlie’s smile. How could I ever say no to her?

I tossed my own jersey over my shoulders so I could help her. Once we got it over her head, I carefully pulled her braids from the collar while she worked on getting her arms through the oversized sleeves.

“There.” I stepped back to look her over, removing my phone from my back pocket. “I’ll take a picture so you can see what you look like. Then we can send it to Daddy.”

“He’s going to be so jealous he didn’t get one.”

She didn’t seem sorry about that at all, and it made me laugh, something I needed desperately in that moment.

I took a couple of pictures of her smiling and then had her turn around to get her name on the back. She eagerly swiped through the photos before choosing one to send to Miah.

“Put yours on. You need a picture, too,” she insisted.

My mouth instinctively opened to protest, but I cut it off, instead forcing out an “Of course.”

I didn’t let the name on the back register as I unfolded the jersey and slipped it on. It settled heavily across my shoulders.

“Let’s take a selfie,” I blurted before Charlie could offer to take a picture of me.

“Okay!” she agreed easily.

I squatted down, allowing her to sit on my knee as I held my phone out with one hand, the other firmly wrapped around her waist to keep her steady. She beamed at the camera, and I knew my smile would be dim in comparison. So I focused on Charlie and her joy, trying to absorb as much of it as possible.

Photo evidence secured, we found our way to the tunnel where a few other fans had gathered. Staff members passed out helmets and then guided us to the benches. It was only a few minutes before the teams came out to warm up. Charlie didn’t sit the entire time, instead standing at the boards completely enraptured by the women. I focused on taking pictures of her. It was easier to distance myself from the situation if I looked at it through a phone screen. Carter popped by for a photo op with Charlie and even brought over the two goalies, who gave her fist bumps and affectionate taps on her helmet. She was living her best life, and here I was internally screaming and fighting the urge to bolt.

Once the teams left, we were guided back through the tunnel to the exit of the backstage area. Miah was waiting for us on the other side of the doors. Charlie let go of my hand and barreled toward him. Prepared as always, he scooped her up into his arms.

Without Charlie as an anchor, I had been left unmoored, the waves of emotions within threatening to capsize me at any moment.

“Look at you in your official Vortex jersey.”

“It’s got my name on it, too!”

“Well, isn’t that special? That was very kind of Zoe’s friend, wasn’t it?”

Miah’s gaze turned to me, and the light in his eyes dimmed. Guilt burned in my chest.

“Are you—”

“I’m gonna step outside really quick. Get some fresh air.” I was already taking a step away. “I’ll meet you at our seats.”

I left before he could say anything else, my body kicking into full flight mode now that Charlie was safe with Miah. Everyone was hurrying to get their lastminute concessions before finding their seats, and I was swimming against the flow of traffic, the press of bodies around me stifling. The closest doors led to an outdoor patio where fans could enjoy their pre-game drinks with a view of the mountains. This close to puck drop, the space was empty, so no one saw me burst through the door and gasp in a lungful of icy cold air as if I’d just been plucked from the depths of a frozen lake.

With no witnesses, the dam finally broke, warm tears cascading down my face as everything I’d bottled up for years came pouring out.

That could have been me out there on the ice. No, it should have been me. It was going to be me.

But it never would be.

An announcer would never call my name for the starting lineup. Fans wouldn’t wear my last name on the back of their jerseys. Little girls wouldn’t hang posters of me in their bedrooms. I would never live out the dream I’d clung so tight to since I was seven that it became my entire personality.

And that was the truth I hadn’t figured out how to face.

Ever since my first Mite League game, I’d been convinced that I would be a professional hockey player. If it meant moving to Canada to join the CWHL, I would have done it in a heartbeat. Then the National Women’s Hockey League had been established, and my options had opened up even more.

Until I did one thing that took it all away. The entire future I had planned since I was Charlie’s age, gone in a matter of seconds.

But that wasn’t all I’d lost. I lost friendships and a relationship that I had assumed I’d be in for the rest of my life. I lost myself. And I was one hundred percent to blame for that.

The accident had been out of my control, but everything that came after was a choice I made. And I had to live with the consequences of both.

All of the adrenaline I’d been holding in had seeped out of me and left me exhausted, my cheeks wet and cold now that my tears had stopped. I used the sleeve of the jersey to wipe the evidence away.

The crowd had thinned significantly when I returned inside, and I could hear the national anthem being sung. Slipping into the bathroom, I took advantage of it being empty to splash cold water on my face in hopes of getting rid of the puffiness. While it wasn’t perfect, it would have to do. I didn’t need to concern Miah any more than I already had.

Play had already begun by the time I made it to our section, apologizing profusely to the people I had to step in front of in order to get to Miah and Charlie.

“Zo, you missed puck drop,” Charlie pointed out.

I sent her an apologetic smile. “Bathroom line was really long,” I fibbed.

Her attention wasn’t on me, though. She was already caught back up in the game, but Miah wasn’t so easily distracted. I could see all the questions burning in his eyes. I gave a small shrug of my shoulder and did my best to give him a reassuring smile. While I wasn’t entirely okay, I was better.

His lips pressed together in a harsh line of concern and he reached out to hook his hand around my outer thigh. The one I’d broken. If he realized what he was doing, he didn’t show it, eyes returning to the ice even if the deliberate stroke of his thumb told me his thoughts were still on me. It was that tender touch that kept me anchored to the present. I may not be on the ice competing, but I was here. With Miah and Charlie.

And that was more than enough for me.

They were more than enough.

Chapter 23

Jeremiah

I’d spent the last four years tucking Charlie into bed by myself, minus the nights Wes visited, but tonight, Zoe had decided to join me. Charlie was still keyed up from the game, especially since the Vortex had won, so Zoe had offered to read her a story. They were curled up together against the headboard, Charlie’s head on Zoe’s shoulder as they read about a boy with a dragon in his desk.

“If you had a desk dragon, what would it hoard?” Zoe asked, her voice soft and low.

Charlie pursed her lips as she thought. “Blue crayons.”

“That’s very specific.”

I grabbed her toes through the blanket and wiggled them. “That probably means your desk needs to be cleaned, if you’re losing things.”

Charlie jerked her feet away from me with a giggle, burrowing further into Zoe’s side. Zoe wrapped an arm around her protectively.

“Clearly she does have a dragon. One with an affinity for blue crayons,” she challenged me, but her amused grin gave her away.

Relenting, I leaned back against the wall and simply observed as they finished their story. Charlie came out of hiding to see the last few pages, hanging onto Zoe’s every word. My heart was likely to burst right out of my chest.

Seeing them walking out of the tunnel hand-in-hand with their matching jerseys had nearly done me in, but the intimacy of this moment was the nail in the coffin. I had fallen for Zoe. Hard.

Charlie asked for another story, but I could already see her eyelids drooping. She’d fall asleep halfway through and then Zoe would be stuck.

“Not tonight, Tot. It’s already way past your bedtime.”

Her bottom lip pouted out just a hint as she shimmied down into her blankets, but she was too exhausted to truly put up a fight. I placed a kiss to her forehead, smiling knowingly whenever her eyes took an extra beat to open when I pulled away.

“Goodnight, Tot,” I whispered.

“Night, Daddy.”

Zoe adjusted the blankets around her. “Goodnight, Charlie girl.”

The corner of Charlie’s lips twitched in a hint of a smile, eyes mere slits as sleep pulled her under.

“Goodnight, Zo,” she sighed.

I followed Zoe into the hall and barely got the door shut behind me before I wrapped my arms around her, one hand sprawled across her lower back while the other cupped her neck. I kissed her tenderly, smiling whenever her body relaxed into mine. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but it wasn’t the right time. Not after the night she had.

So instead, when I pulled back and met her hazel eyes, I asked, “How are you feeling?”

She’d put on a brave face all night for Charlie, but I had seen right through it. If Charlie hadn’t been with us, I would have followed Zoe when she said she was getting air. The tears had already built up in her eyes before she’d disappeared into the crowd, and I would have given anything to support her in that moment, but I didn’t want to scare Charlie.

Zoe’s gaze flicked over my shoulder and her fingers fiddled with the strings of my hoodie. I moved my hands to her hips and gently guided her down the hallway to the living room. When we sat on the couch, she curled into my side much like Charlie had done to her. I ran my fingers through the ends of her hair, letting her organize her thoughts.

“Tonight was a lot. Seeing Carter after all these years, sitting on the bench in a jersey.” Her thumb traced back and forth over my ribs. “But I also think it was necessary. I needed to finally face that part of my past.”

And she’d faced it straight on, throwing herself into the deep end, and all because of Charlie. Because it would make her happy. The same thing I’d been doing for the last four years.

“I’m proud of you,” I murmured, lips brushing against her temple. “I know it was hard, but you did it.”

Her hold on me tightened before she tilted her head back to look at me.

“Because of you and Charlie. I couldn’t have done it without the both of you. I wouldn’t have even made it into the parking lot.”

I could tell her that she would have been able to do it eventually, but that would be dismissing her feelings, and I never wanted to do that.

“I’m glad we could be there for you.”

I’ll always be there for you.

Because I’m in love with you.

The words were right there, pushing against the back of my teeth, ready to spill out. Screw the fact that it had only been a little over a month since our first date.

“I better head home. It’s late and I’m wiped,” Zoe sighed, adjusting to get up from the couch.

I could still say it, but the moment was gone. Instead, I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, curling my fingers around it.

“You sure you’re okay to drive home? You could always stay in the guest bedroom.”

She smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine. Besides, I’ve gotta get up early to meet with Carter. I’ll text you when I get home.”

While I appreciated it, unfortunately, it did little to soothe the anxious knot building in my chest.

“O-okay.”

Zoe pressed a tender kiss to my cheek before meeting my eyes.

“I promise, Miah. As soon as I park the car and again when I’m inside my apartment.”

I didn’t say anything. I just nodded as I nibbled on my bottom lip. I refused to beg her to stay. My anxiety was being irrational—as usual. It was only a twenty-minute drive for her, and at this time of night, the streets would be mostly empty.

I walked her to the door and helped her get her coat back on. Anything to keep my hands busy.

She lifted up onto her toes to give me a soft kiss. Normally, it’d have me turning into a puddle, but I was strung too tight.

We said our goodbyes, and I waited until she was in her car to close the door. Compulsively, I checked my phone for the time so I knew roughly when she’d be home. Then I retreated to the couch to wait, pulling my sketchbook from the end table drawer. There would be no going to bed until I received those texts.

Tonight’s doodles were quick, rough sketches of Charlie and Zoe at the game. Except in these drawings, Zoe was all smiles, fully enjoying herself. While it may not have been her today, I was confident that it would be a reality soon enough. Healing took time. Something I understood far too well.

As time went on, I made more drawings of Zoe; some of her baking, others just of her smiling or laughing. Maybe I’d come back to them in the future and make them more detailed.

My phone buzzed on the couch next to me, and I quickly snatched it up, heart pounding.

I hearted the message and then kept the app open while I waited for the next one. This time, she sent a photo of herself curled up in bed.

Exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave as soon as I knew she was home safe, and I considered just crashing on the couch if it didn’t mean I would wake up with a horrible knot in my back. The threat of pain motivated me to make the trek to my room and crawl into my own bed where the memory foam mattress hugged me like a cloud. I still found myself aching for a body next to mine, though.

Chapter 24

Zoe

The lack of anxiety as I entered the bistro to meet Carter for lunch was a welcomed change. It was only fair, since I felt as though I’d used up a year’s worth of it yesterday—if anxiety was nice enough to work like that. After texting Miah, I’d knocked out and didn’t move until my alarm went off. Who knows how long I could have slept. However, I was actually looking for-ward to properly catching up with Carter today.

Last night’s breakdown was exactly what I needed; a release of all the pent-up anger and sadness I’d held onto for so long. While it didn’t mean I was fully over my accident and what it’d cost me, I was a hell of a lot further than I’d been before.

Carter was waiting by the door, the complete opposite of last night with her makeup done and long hair hanging loose in waves. Her smile was more timid now, confirming my suspicion that I hadn’t been as good at hiding my feelings last night as I’d tried to be. I was an athlete, not an actress.

So I took it upon myself to be the one to pull her into a firm hug this time.

“Congratulations on the win last night. That was a tight game.”

She blew out a breath. “You’re telling me.”

When we pulled back, her smile was genuine, and I knew mine was as well. Stepping inside, we claimed a table near the windows where we could soak up the warmth of the sun streaming in.

“I can’t thank you enough for last night. Charlie wouldn’t stop raving the entire drive home.”

“Oh, she was absolutely darling! I’m so happy we could do that for her.”

I instinctively reached across the table for her hand. “And thank you from me, too.”—I swallowed—“I needed that push.”

Her expression grew somber, and she gave my hand an encouraging squeeze in return.

“I’m so sorry I shut you out.” She shook her head, but I continued on. I needed to get this out. Hell, I’d needed to get it out years ago. “It was really shitty of me, no matter how much I was hurting. You were just trying to be there for me.”

“I get it, Danny. I always have, and I’ve never held it against you. God knows I would have done the same thing.”

My eyes stung and I blinked away the threat of tears. How I had any left after last night, I had no clue.

“Still. I hate that we lost all of those years.”

Carter shrugged. “We’ve got now.”

She smiled gently, and I smiled back.

“Then catch me up.”

We easily lost track of time, only pausing our conversation long enough to order our food. Carter told me about her debut game and how she’d botched a shot on goal, but how encouraging her team had been. She got a hat trick the very next game. I showed her pictures of Bash, and she gushed over how much he looked like Jada.

It felt like no time had passed at all. We were just as comfortable with each other as we had been in college, spouting out our innermost thoughts without any filters.

“Okay, now tell me about Charlie’s dad.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me, and I covered my face so I didn’t have to witness it.

“Please never make that face again.”

“Fine, fine. Just spill the tea.”

I sighed and let my hands drop, my dopey smile exposed for everyone to see. “He retired from the Seattle Cascades a few years ago.”

“Position?”

“Goalie.”

“So he’s a freak. Okay, continue.”

I barked out a laugh and had to slap my hand over my mouth when a nearby table shot me dirty looks. Carter just snickered across the table from me.

“What? All goalies are weirdos. If you don’t think he is, he must be really good at hiding it. I’m sure it’ll slip out eventually.”

She wasn’t lying; goalies typically had a few screws loose in the best way and were considered the oddballs in the hockey world. And here I’d welcomed not one, but two of them into my life. Best decision I’d ever made.

“Anyway. We met when I took over coaching Charlie’s hockey team for my uncle. Then we teamed up to create a women’s rec league at his rink and well…” I trailed off, letting her fill in the blanks.

Carter smiled knowingly.

“Honestly, he’s amazing. He’s got such a big heart.” I shook my head, not sure how to put into words my thoughts and feelings in regards to Miah. “I’ve never been with someone like him, and half the time it doesn’t feel real. Too good to be true, you know?”

I’d been with my ex, Blake, for a couple years before I had my accident and chased him away like I did everyone else. Not that it had been that hard. I think we’d both been looking for an excuse to end it, and my attitude after the accident gave him the perfect out.

He’d been a good boyfriend. He was fun to hang out with when I had the free time and he got along with my friends, but we would have never worked long term. Blake just wasn’t someone I could consistently count on. There were times he’d skip out on a date, because there was fresh powder on the mountains or miss one of my games, because his frat was throwing a party.

Miah, though? Miah was a quiet and steady kind of love. He’d shown me time and time again that he’d be there for me, and, most importantly, when I was ready. I suppose it was because of his patience that I opened up so willingly to him. And he did the same. In just a few months, we’d built a solid foundation of trust and respect that I hadn’t known outside of family and my friendship with Jada.

“You deserve good things, Danny. You know that, right?”

My bottom lip wobbled as I met Carter’s earnest gaze, and I gave a small nod. “I’m working on it.”

I’d spent years hating myself, hating the universe for the cards I’d been dealt, and in doing so, I’d wasted precious years grieving the life I was supposed to have and not enjoying the life I did have. An aunt and uncle who cherished me, a best friend who fought for me, and a job that I genuinely enjoyed.

Life had placed me on a different path than I’d dreamed of, but that didn’t make it inferior by default. No, I’d say this path was pretty damn wonderful. Especially since it brought me to Miah and Charlie. They made me happier than I’d been in a long time, and I was finally realizing that I deserved happiness just as much as anyone else.

Chapter 25

Zoe

“I think Zoe sabotaged our pieces and made them so they wouldn’t fit.”

The whiny voice coming from the dining room belonged to six-foot-four, professional hockey player, Wesley Sanders, and not the seven-year-old he was teamed up with for our gingerbread house building contest. I’d kept my promise and baked fresh gingerbread for Charlie along with what I believed was my stickiest batch of icing yet.

The entire home smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. Add on Michael Bublé crooning Christmas tunes from the television and the warm glow of the tree Wes had helped Charlie decorate, and the Langfield home felt straight out of a holiday movie.

The original plan had been to just build gingerbread houses. It had taken all of two seconds for someone to propose the idea of turning it into a competition. Not all that surprising when you threw four hockey players together, though. Charlie chose her Uncle Wes as her partner, and they had opted to work on their house in the dining room, so Miah and I “couldn’t copy” them.

From the sounds of it, they were struggling.

Our house, on the other hand, already had all four walls solidly standing and the roof secured. We’d been able to erect the baked building in half the time it usually took me, and most of that was due to the fact that Miah’s large hands were able to easily hold up all of the walls at once. My tiny hands could never.

Confident that our house was stable, Miah stepped back so he could peek through the kitchen doorway at our rivals. “Are you holding it long enough for the icing to set?”

Silence. Then a huff from Miah.

“Be patient.”

From my vantage point, I could just make out the Dad Look he gave them; lips firm and eyebrows raised. Whether it was directed at Charlie or Wes, though, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

He returned to my side, shaking his head as he let out another heavy sigh.

“It’s like I have two children sometimes.”

I playfully bumped my hip against the side of his thigh. “Oh, please. You know you’re over the moon that he’s here for a couple days.”

He gave a playful grumble in response, but we both knew the truth. Charlie wasn’t the only one who’d been counting down to Wes’s arrival. I, however, had been quite nervous. Wes was like a brother to Miah, which meant his opinion of me held a lot of weight to it. Not that I ever thought Miah would end things if Wes didn’t like me, but things would be a lot easier if the two of us got along.

My worries had all been for nothing, as usual. I’d barely stepped over the threshold before Wes had shoved Miah aside and scooped me up into a bear hug, somehow even bigger than Miah.

“Do you have a preference on gumdrop colors?” Miah asked, pulling the bowl of multicolored gummies closer.

“Well, that depends…” I crossed my arms over my chest as I examined our options. “What kind of vibe are we going for? Multicolor Christmas or keep it classic with red and green?”

Miah picked out a red gumdrop and popped it into his mouth as he debated. “Let’s go with multicolor. It feels more nostalgic. I always had multicolored lights on the tree when I was growing up.”

I smiled. “All the colors it is.”

I’d been given all icing duties, Miah still not confident in his piping skills, so I grabbed a bag and made a line down the top of our roof. Miah meticulously placed the gumdrops in rainbow order. From there, we added a path to the door lined with more gumdrops, and I decided to be extra and add icicles hanging from the roof.

“What do you think, Cupcake? Do you trust me with the confectioner’s sugar?” Miah smirked at me, a measuring cup poised above the opening of the bag.

“I would hope that you learned from last time.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I want to see you in one of my old t-shirts again.”

I bit back a laugh and just eyed him.

“You know you can do that without showering the entire kitchen in sugar, right?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

I pursed my lips. “You did end up kind of looking like Santa,” I admitted.

“But like… a hot Santa?”

My shoulders shrugged up to my ears as I tilted my head back and forth. “Meh.”

Miah’s jaw dropped and before I could even attempt an escape, he’d snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against his chest.

“Zoe Daniels.”

I just laughed. Even more so when he tickled my side, making me squirm. “Okay, okay,” I relented. “You made a hot Santa and you’ll be a silver fox when you’re old.”

His free hand cupped the back of my head as he bent down to give me a solid kiss.

“Thank you.”

His grin was boyish and painfully adorable. I snuck a glance toward the doorway, pausing long enough to listen for any hint of movement from Charlie or Wes in the direction of the kitchen. Confident there’d be no interruption, I returned my attention to Miah and leaned up on my toes to give him a proper kiss. Unlike me, he had no hesitations and wrapped me up in both arms now, holding me gently, but securely. Moments like these would be limited the next week or so as we attended our respective family events, so we had to steal them wherever we could.

“But seriously”—I pulled back—“please keep the sugar on the gingerbread. We don’t need the entire counter to be snow-covered.”

Miah let out a dramatic sigh, his arms growing slack around me. “Fine, fine.”

“And you say you feel like you’ve got two kids. I think I’m dealing with three.”

Sticking his tongue out at me did not help his case, but it did make the both of us laugh. Despite his reassurances, I still supervised as he carefully dusted confectioner’s sugar over the house. It ended up looking like a cozy, candy cabin after a fresh powdering of snow. In other words, it was perfect.

I patted Miah’s bicep as I smiled up at him. “Proud of you.”

He beamed as if I’d just given him a gold star.

After cleaning up, Miah carried our gingerbread house into the dining room for the voting. Wes and Charlie looked to be finishing up the last touches to theirs, placing peppermints around the base.

“Why is there a ghost wearing a Santa hat in the window?” Miah questioned.

Wes stood taller. “We decided to embrace our wonky, tilting walls and make it a haunted house at Christmas time. Ghosts celebrate the holidays, too, you know.”

“I love it.” I smiled at Charlie. “Very creative.”

“We won, then, right?” Wes looked hopefully around the dining room.

I had to hand it to them; they’d made the most out of a dire situation. I could only imagine what Miah’s would have looked like if he’d had to do it on his own or, God forbid, with Wes. There was a reason the boys hadn’t let Charlie and I team up.

“I say it’s a tie,” Charlie decided. “Daddy and Zoe’s is pretty, but Uncle Wes and I thought outside the box.”

While Wes didn’t seem keen on the idea of there not being a definitive winner, none of us were going to say no to Charlie.

Miah wrapped his arm around her small shoulders. “Great idea, Tot. A tie it is.”

“Jay, I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Wes announced.

Miah paused mid-step on his way to the living room and turned slowly. “Why?” he asked, his suspicion clear.

“Figured I’d make struffoli today since I’ve got the best sous chef I could ask for.” Wes playfully nudged me with his elbow and then cupped his hands around his mouth. “No offense, Charmander!”

If she was able to hear him over the Christmas movie she’d picked out, she didn’t bother with a response.

Miah’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of us, clearly hesitant. Maybe because he’d be leaving me alone with the person who had all the dirt on him. Or maybe he worried that Wes would end up grilling me. Not that I would blame him. It would make sense for him to do a little interrogating of the newest person in Miah and Charlie’s lives.

Either way, I was confident that the two of us would be fine.

Miah’s hazel eyes met mine, his brows lifting up questioningly. I walked over and leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Don’t worry. I’ll sneak you some,” I promised with a conspiratorial wink.

That at least made him smile.

“Charlie and I will be wrapping presents for my parents, if you need us.”

He gave me a small peck before disappearing into the living room. I joined Wes at the kitchen counter, looking over all the ingredients he had laid out.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard of struffoli.”

“It’s a traditional Italian cookie. Just little balls of fried dough soaked in honey,” he explained, a nostalgic look in his eyes as he adjusted the bowl on the counter. “My nonna used to make large batches of it at Christmastime, and when she passed, it became my job.”

My heart warmed; whether it was an excuse to get me alone or not, I was grateful he was allowing me to assist him with such an important tradition.

“I’m honored to be able to help you today.”

He smiled widely, identical dimples appearing on either side of his mouth.

“Jay is obsessed with it. If he’s ever in a grumpy mood, just make a small batch and he’ll get over it like that.” He snapped his fingers.

We both laughed.

“Noted.”

Wes talked me through measuring out the flour, baking soda, and salt while he zested an orange, pausing halfway through to roll up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. I retrieved the whisk I’d bought Miah from the utensil drawer.

“He really really likes you, you know,” Wes said. He gently nudged the zest into a small pile on the cutting board before scooping it into his hand and sprinkling it into the bowl.

I kept my head down as I whisked together the dry ingredients, but with my hair pulled back, there was no hiding the flush to my cheeks. It only grew when I felt Wes’s eyes on me. Hearing Miah say such words was one thing. It was different to hear it from someone on the outside looking in. Someone I knew Miah confided in often.

“I really really like him, too. A lot.” I more than just liked him, but I wasn’t going to tell anyone else that before I told Miah himself. He deserved to be the first to know.

Wes stepped closer to pour melted butter in, and I traded the whisk for a wooden spoon.

“Honestly, Miah and Charlie are the best thing to happen to me in a long time,” I confessed. And that was putting it lightly. “I feel very lucky to be a part of their lives.”

The kitchen was quiet save the muffled sounds of the television in the other room. The dough had become thicker and I had to shift forward to get better leverage.

“You’re in it for the long haul, right?”

Wes seemed to always have this positive energy about him, palpable even through a television screen, but when I looked at him, it was as though that light inside had been dimmed. His eyes were serious and there was a hint of sadness in them. Of loss.

“Yes,” I replied confidently. “I’m in it for the long haul.”

He let the words settle before he finally nodded. “Good. Because I like you, and I’m basically a bonus to their package deal.” He tipped his head toward the living room, that charming grin and consequent dimples returning to his face.

I grinned back at him. “I like you, too.”

The air between us grew light once more. Wes moved to wash his hands at the sink and tapped the side of the bowl.

“It’s time to knead it and then we’ll let it rest for a little.”

My arm muscles were burning, so I was more than willing to stop and let Wes take over. Both of his hands barely fit inside the bowl as he worked the dough. I stepped out of his way to watch, taking all the mental notes.

I opened my mouth to ask if he would be seeing any of his family for the holidays, but then I caught myself, remembering when I’d made Charlie feel awkward suggesting she share the cupcakes with her mom. I didn’t want to assume that he had family outside of Miah and Charlie. Surely, he would be seeing them if he did.

“What?”

I looked up at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean, what?”

“You were about to say something. Or ask something.”

“Oh.” I averted my gaze to the bowl. “I was just going to ask about your family. If you were going to see anyone else during the holidays.”

“And why’d you stop yourself?”

“I didn’t want to assume,” I replied honestly.

“I’ve got some family up in the Chicago area still, but my parents moved down to Louisiana recently to escape the cold. There’s not near enough time to see them all in the few days we have off, so I stick with coming here for Christmas every year.”

He rolled the dough into a large ball and then placed a tea towel over the bowl.

“Besides. Christmas is more magical with a kid around.” He rinsed his hands once more and then turned to lean against the counter, his smile now directed toward the living room. “I wouldn’t miss a Christmas with Charlie for the world. It’s the one time of year that I don’t mind getting up at the crack of dawn. Seeing her lit up like that is…” He shook his head.

The love and adoration he had for Charlie was written all over his face. In a lot of ways, their relationship reminded me of mine with my own uncle.

“So when are you going to have kids of your own?”

He took a deep breath, his chest swelling underneath his sweatshirt, and then let it out. “After I retire, I guess? If Jay couldn’t do it, there’s no way I could balance being a single parent and a professional athlete.”

My eyebrows crinkled together, my brain catching on that one term. “You don’t think you’d find a partner?”

This time he laughed, big and hearty.

“I’m not about the partner life. No serious, lifelong relationships for me.” He raised a hand. “Except for with my future children, of course. But nothing romantic.”

My head reared back as if I’d been smacked, his words throwing me for a loop. It just didn’t match up with what I knew about Wes. Yes, he was a young athlete, but from how Miah described him, and what I’d seen today, he was quite the family man.

Suppose my archaic vision of a family included two parental units. That obviously wasn’t always the case, though, and didn’t have to be.

“Well… whenever it happens, I think you’ll make a great dad.”

His features softened, and his dark eyes were warm when they met mine. “Thanks. I’m hoping being the fun uncle transitions well to being a good dad.”

My smile widened.

“It’ll be the best trade of your life.”

Chapter 26

Jeremiah

Being greeted by the sound of music and giggles coming from the kitchen when I returned home had to be my new favorite thing. I rounded the corner and smiled at the sight of Zoe and Charlie making my mom’s special popcorn in their matching aprons Zoe had gotten them. They didn’t notice me, too caught up in their little dance break, so I took the opportunity to sneak a quick video of them.

Moments like these were ones I’d dreamed about when Sadie had first told me she was pregnant. While it looked different than we’d imagined, it still turned my insides to goo. Seeing my daughter this happy was all I could ever dream of. And Zoe? She just made that dream all the more beautiful.

Tucking my phone away, I finally stepped fully into the kitchen.

“Pizza delivery!” I announced, finding an empty space on the counter to place the box.

Charlie bounced over to me. “With extra pepperoni?” she asked hopefully.

I bent down to place a kiss to the top of her head.

“You know it, Tot.”

I reached Zoe in just two strides, pulling her against me with an arm around her lower back, and kissed her softly. All of the feelings swelling in my chest needed an outlet or I would surely burst.

She giggled against my lips. “Well, hi.”

“Hi,” I murmured, sneaking one more peck. Then I looked to the small disaster zone that used to be my kitchen island. “How goes the popcorn?”

“Well…” Zoe trailed off only for Charlie to pop up on the stool beside us.

“We decided to add some sprinkles. It wasn’t colorful enough,” she reasoned. “The marshmallows melted perfectly, though.”

“It looks great, Tot. My girls did a good job.”

All I could think about, though, was the inevitable messy, sticky fingers and cheeks. It was times like these when I wish I still had baby wipes on hand. Paper towels would just have to do.

Charlie insisted on carrying the bowl of popcorn into the living room by herself. The Minnesota Vortex were playing tonight, and Charlie had become a die-hard fan thanks to Carter and all her kindness. We didn’t miss a game if we could help it.

Determined to have my daughter eat more than just overly sweet popcorn tonight, I began plating the pizza slices. However, I was easily distracted when Zoe sidled up next to me.

“So, I um… I made a decision,” she started.

I looked at her curiously as she leaned against the counter, her eyes trained on her feet. “About?”

When she lifted her head, there was that determined look in her eyes that I loved so much.

“I’m going to play in the rec league.”

The words didn’t register at first. When Zoe had so whole-heartedly shut down my suggestion of captaining a team, I’d dropped the idea of her playing altogether. Especially after she shared her history with me and I saw how much merely attending a women’s hockey game shook her up.

But I’d also noticed how much lighter she’d seemed since the game. As if the giant boulder she’d been carrying around had turned into a rock small enough she could fit it in her pocket. A much more manageable weight.

“Seriously? Zo, that’s great!”

She bit her bottom lip so hard it turned white. Even through all that determination, there was still a hint of apprehension. Just because she had decided to play again, didn’t mean it was going to be easy.

I quickly pulled her into my arms once more, stroking a hand reassuringly along her back. She relaxed into me, nuzzling her face into the fabric of my hoodie.

“I’m proud of you, Cupcake,” I mumbled into her hair.

She let out a deep breath, sinking even further as she murmured, “Me, too.”

“Game is starting!” Charlie called from the living room.

Zoe pulled back to glance through the doorway and then up at me.

“We better get in there before she gets tired of waiting and just eats all of the popcorn herself.”

I was glad to see a grin back on her face.

She wasn’t wrong, though. I could only imagine how much Charlie had already snuck, and before she’d even had dinner. I kissed Zoe’s forehead and then released her to grab mine and Charlie’s plates. Following Zoe into the living room, I was very surprised to find the popcorn bowl sitting on the coffee table, seemingly just as full as it had been when it left the kitchen.

“Zoe can sit in the middle,” Charlie announced, patting the couch cushion beside her. “I’ll share her tonight.”

I raised a brow as I handed her pizza to her. “Oh, you’ll share her, huh?”

Zoe bit her lip to hide her grin as she took the middle seat, but I knew she was eating it up. Taking advantage of Charlie’s generosity, I all too eagerly plopped down on the couch next to Zoe and draped an arm along the back of it behind her. I only needed one hand to eat pizza.

The game had gone into double overtime and way past Charlie’s bedtime. When I glanced over at her, she’d tucked herself under Zoe’s arm, chocolatey cheeks smushed and eyes barely open. It’d be a miracle if she made it to her bed on her own.

With the game over, I removed my arm from around Zoe and pushed myself up off the couch.

“All right, Tot. Come here.”

I held my arms out, and when it became apparent that she wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, I reached down to scoop her up. Her head lolled against my shoulder, but she did at least manage to lazily drape her arms around my neck. Her legs hung further down than I remembered, little feet knocking against my lower thighs as I stepped around the coffee table.

“I’ll clean up the popcorn and then meet you in there,” Zoe offered.

We both knew Charlie would be upset if Zoe didn’t join me to tuck her in. I made a pit stop at the bathroom, one-handedly wetting a washcloth and wiping away the special popcorn residue from around her mouth.

“Do I need to brush your teeth for you, too?”

Charlie giggled from the crook of my neck before lifting her head. “No. That’s silly.”

We worked together, her holding her toothbrush while I squeezed toothpaste onto it. When she was ready, I held her out over the sink for her to spit.

“Good?” she asked, baring her teeth at me.

I pretended to inspect them thoroughly before giving a satisfied nod. Zoe caught up to us just as I’d gotten Charlie into pajamas and under the covers. There wasn’t a need for a bedtime story tonight; Charlie couldn’t keep her eyes open a second longer now that she was cozy in bed.

I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Sleep tight, Tot.”

She mumbled something along the lines of “Night, Daddy”.

Zoe stepped forward and bent down, affectionately brushing Charlie’s hair away from her forehead. “Goodnight, Charlie girl,” she whispered.

Charlie let out a deep exhale. “Night, Mommy.”

My heart hurtled up into my throat before plummeting back down to the bottom of my stomach. Zoe’s fingers had frozen on Charlie’s cheek. Okay, so she definitely said what I thought she’d said.

She’s barely even awake, I reasoned with myself. She was most likely in some half-asleep state where reality and the dream world blurred. In her mind, it could have been Sadie telling her goodnight. She probably didn’t mean to call Zoe that.

Without looking at me, Zoe stood from Charlie’s bed and headed to the door. I followed after her. If we were going to talk about this—which we definitely needed to—Charlie’s bedroom was not the place for it. Even if the little tot was knocked out now.

“I’m sorry,” Zoe blurted.

My eyebrows pinched together. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything.”

“I just don’t want to confuse her or anything.”

This wasn’t a hallway conversation either.

“Come here,” I encouraged her, taking her hand and gently guiding her to my bedroom further down the hall. I quietly closed the door behind me and then turned to face Zoe, not even giving her an opportunity to speak. “You are not confusing her. She’s just exhausted. I highly even doubt she knew what she was saying.”

Zoe nodded, but she still chewed on the inside of her lip as she sat down on the edge of the bed. I joined her and instinctively reached out for her hand once more. 

“Zo, really. It’s okay,” I insisted. “Was it shocking? Hell yeah. That was the last thing I expected to come out of her mouth, but I genuinely think it was subconscious.” 

I stroked my thumb soothingly across her knuckles, and she seemed to relax under my touch. When I’d decided to pursue a relationship with Zoe, I knew that someday this would happen. The bake sale incident had shown just how different Charlie felt not having a mom. It made sense that she’d latch onto anyone who took on a motherly role in her life. I just hadn’t expected the ‘mommy’ term to come up so soon. Even if it was a slip up.

“I don’t want anyone thinking I’m trying to replace Sadie,” Zoe confessed, “because I know I could never do that. For either of you.”

“And I’m not looking for someone to replace her,” I jumped in. “I love you for you.”

Zoe froze for the second time that night, and so did my heart. This was not how I planned on telling her how I felt. I had half a mind to feign exhaustion as well.

But then her lips curved up into a smile.

“You what?”

I could see the hint of mischief in her eyes. Only Zoe would find entertainment in my torture.

“I’m in love with you.” I tried to sound as confident as possible, even though I was holding my breath, hoping she felt the same way, too.

Her smile widened even further, and she leaned forward to press her lips to mine, her free hand cradling my cheek.

“I love you, too, Miah.”

If she hadn’t been holding me, I would have surely floated away.

“Really?” I breathed out.

I stole a few more kisses, quick pecks from one corner of her mouth to the other that made her laugh and her shoulders scrunch up.

“Really.” She pulled back just enough so that she could look me in the eyes. “I’m all in on you and Charlie. You two mean the world to me, and I don’t ever want to let you go.”

I shifted to wrap my arms around her waist and guide her closer.

“Charlie’d never allow it. And neither would I.”

“So I’m stuck with you two?” Her eyebrows lifted.

“Mhm.” I nodded, locking my hands together behind her back. “Forever.”

She beamed up at me, and I knew I had a dopey, loved-up smile on my face as well.

“I can work with that.”

Epilogue

Jeremiah

I remember the first game both of my girls attended. Charlie was only a couple of months old, and I’d worried that it would be too much for her, but Sadie bought her the most adorable pair of baby noise-cancelling headphones and promised she would go home if Charlie got overwhelmed or cranky.

I’d been nervous as hell. It was my daughter’s first ever hockey game and her first time watching Daddy play. There was a lot of pressure to do well, even though I knew she wouldn’t remember it at all. But I would.

As soon as I stepped out onto the ice for warm-ups, my eyes scanned the stands, only to find Sadie where she always was, right up on the glass. Except this time, she had the most precious, little tot wrapped up in her arms. I had beelined straight to them, lightly tapping at the glass with my stick. Sadie held Charlie up higher. Her wide brown eyes met mine and then she grinned at me, melting my heart into a puddle.

We won that night. Completely demolished the other team, and I couldn’t have been happier having my girls there to see it.

Now I was standing on the other side of the glass, and Charlie was the one in goalie gear skating onto the ice. I could see her eyes searching, and then there was that brilliant smile when she finally spotted me. More toothy than when she was a baby, but still just as heart-melting.

Then my other girl entered the rink. Zoe radiated confidence as she took her place on the bench, monitoring the kids as they warmed up and calling out reminders or compliments. She’d just praised Charlie for a solid save when her eyes met mine. The corner of her lips twitched up into a crooked smile. She sent me a wink and then the game face was back on.

I’d gotten to see that exact face several times recently as Zoe faced off with other highly skilled players in the women’s rec league. For our inaugural season, it was off to a great start, and I couldn’t wait to see how it grew. But the greatest part was getting to see Zoe thriving on the ice. It wasn’t easy for her to get back out there after all she’d been through and all she’d lost, but she did it, and I fell in love with her a little more each time.

“Which one is yours?”

I glanced over at the man who’d just sat down next to me, a toddler perched on his bouncing knee, no older than two with white blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. The father looked to be about the same age I had been when Charlie was that small.

I couldn’t help but smile as my gaze returned to the ice.

“The goalie and the coach.” I nodded to each of my girls in turn.

He let out a soft whistle. “Man. A goalie and a coach. You’ve got your hands full, don’t ya?”

“I do,” I admitted with a laugh. My chest still swelled with pride. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, though.”

Life may have taken a different route than the one I had planned, but damn if the view wasn’t just as stunning.

Charlie, Jeremiah, and Zoe

will return in Book 2.

Acknowledgements

Just like Jeremiah, I am working on asking people for help. It’s still a work in progress, but that just means more people to thank in my acknowledgements for helping bring this story to life.

First off, shout out to my home team, the Kansas City Mavericks, for introducing me to the world of hockey back in high school. They are the reason I fell in love with the sport and it was their game I was at when I got the inspiration for this story. Go Mavs!

Thank you to every reader who has ever picked up one of my books. Whether you loved it or didn’t care for it, it means a lot to me that you took a chance on me and my stories.

Clover, thank you for taking the dumpster fire of a hockey romance that I handed you and helping me find the treasures amongst the trash. Forever grateful for your mentorship and friendship.

Lori, thank you for reading my writing for the last nearly ten years. I know I can always go to you when I get too in my head and the words are all jumbled.

To Leslie, Christen, Summer, and Susan. You ladies mean so much to me and I am truly honored to have you in my corner. I know I can always count on you all to kick my imposter syndrome to the curb with your enthusiasm for my stories. Thank you!

And always, thank you to my parents for encouraging me, no matter what crazy idea pops into my head.

About the Author

Kaitlin is an elementary teacher and avid traveler based in the Kansas City, Missouri area. She lives with a menagerie of pets, including her bunny (Artemis), leopard gecko (Bruni), and puppy (Ringo). Books and writing have been her escape for years. When she isn’t creating stories in her head, she is daydreaming about her next trip.

Instagram, Threads, and TikTok: @booksbykaitlin 

Website for signed copies and other bookish goodies: www.booksbykaitlin.square.site

Stay up to date on future projects by subscribing to my newsletter on Substack.