Ice Cold Hearts: A Single Mom, Hockey, Reverse Harem Romance (Forbidden Fantasies)

15. Emily

Mom still doesn’t believe me, but I swear I was able to hear Dad explode with joy from the other end of our street when I told them about the guys’ offer. I’d even be willing to bet good money the guys would have heard him in their bougie gated community too.

I know I should have told the guys we were coming, and I do feel guilty, but there was so much to do yesterday, I just didn’t get the chance. Usually, I split the big chores between Saturday and Sunday, but there was just no way I was going to be able to get myself ready, Audrey and all her accoutrements ready, and do housework. I’m a pretty good multi-tasker, but nobody’s that good. So, after breakfast with Audrey, I did chores until well after sundown.

It was worth it today, but I gained a whole new appreciation for Cinderella yesterday. How that woman managed to go back to drudgery and chores with a positive attitude after having a glorious night out is beyond me. I could barely make myself do the chores at all, forget about smiling and being pleasant. Managing a feat like that should have been enough to guarantee her sainthood. At least I think it should, but I might be biased.

As we settle into our seats in the team box, I feel myself relax for the first time all day. My parents are over the moon, Audrey didn’t have a meltdown when our plans changed, and I am at my first hockey game in about five years.

I’d sworn off hockey (and hockey players), much to my dad’s dismay, after my confrontation with Liza when I was pregnant. I wouldn’t even visit their house if they had a game on. Now that I’m here, immersed in the pregame buzz of the stadium, I realize just how much I’ve missed it. Sure, I might have watched every Cold Hearts game on T.V. since I met Alexei, but it’s nothing like actually being there.

Even when I did go to hockey games, I’d never gotten seats this good. The team box has perfectly positioned seats so you can catch all the action, and farther back in the room are tables, a bar—bartender included—and a television that’s bigger than me so you don’t miss a minute.

“Mama, Penguins!” Audrey squeals excitedly, tugging at my jacket.

All I see is the Cold Hearts’ mascot dancing around on the ice.

“Honey, that’s a heart, not a penguin. Why don’t we look at the animal book I brought in your bag and we can compare them?” I say, silently worrying that she might need her eyes checked.

“No, not out there.” She sighs exaggeratedly. “There!”

Audrey jabs her little finger at the back of the room where tuxedo-clad catering staff are laying out the food.

I’m able to suppress my laugh but not my smile.

“Those are waiters. They bring us food. Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Can I go see the penguins?” Audrey asks breathlessly.

Maybe I should get her ears checked because that girl didn’t hear a damn thing I said.

“Sure.”

I take her little hand and walk toward the back, making sure to stop far enough off that we’re not in the way.

“See, Audrey, they’re waiters. They brought us all food to share. Is there anything that looks yummy?”

Quick as a wink, she slips her hand from mine and dashes toward the nearest “penguin” and throws her arms around their legs.

“Audrey, no ma’am,” I scold, then to the waiter, “I’m so sorry, Mr.…?”

“Connelly,” he supplies.

“I love you,” Audrey declares.

“Um…” he says, looking at me like a deer in the headlights.

“Audrey, do you remember the rules about hugging?” I prompt.

She lets go immediately and steps back. “You gotta ask first.” Her face falls. “I’m sorry, Mr. Penguin.”

He laughs. “Penguin?”

“The suit,” I answer, shaking my head. “Right now, anything black and white is a penguin.”

He nods at me then looks down at Audrey. “If I were a penguin, Miss, would I do this?”

To her supreme delight, he starts waddling around and honking. Her giggles have everyone nearby smiling.

“That’s what penguins do.” She beams.

“I bet you could do it too,” he encourages.

Audrey darts back to me and grabs my pants leg, suddenly shy.

“Will you do it too?” she asks, looking up at me with pleading eyes.

I sigh. “Only because I love you.”

She claps her hands in delight, and soon, Audrey has the entire waitstaff and me waddling around like penguins.

Not even five minutes have passed and she already has them all completely charmed. Everywhere we go, she manages to make everyone her friend.

Whenever I think I can’t possibly love her any more, she always proves me wrong.

How did I get so lucky?

Once the penguin parade is over, the original waiter comes up to me grinning from ear to ear.

“That was the most fun we’ve had at work in weeks,” he says. “If it’s okay with you, can we bring her a special treat?”

“Probably, but it will depend on what it is,” I say cautiously.

“At Friday’s game we served raspberry sorbet to the big bosses, and we have a little extra in the freezer. Could we bring her a little scoop?” he asks.

“She’d love that.” I smile. “Thank you for humoring her. It was so kind of you.”

He shrugs. “The pleasure was all mine. She reminds me of my daughter when she was that age. It was a nice little trip down memory lane for me.”

“How old is your daughter now?”

“Twelve.”

After the waitstaff leaves, I manage to make myself and Audrey a plate then settle back into our seats. It was no easy feat, either. Quite a few of the other box occupants stopped us on our way to tell her what a fabulous penguin she was.

“We should go out with you more often,” Mom teases. “You girls know how to make everything a party.”

I make a face at her, but she just laughs.

Before Mom can sass me any more, we’re all asked to rise for the National Anthem. Audrey manages to stay serious through the first verse but quickly devolves into a passionate interpretive dance in front of her seat. By the time we get to the coin toss, she’s lost interest entirely and rummages around in the bag I brought her until she finds a coloring book.

After the face off, things move so quickly I can barely track the puck as it rockets from player to player. I can already tell it’s going to be a close game. The Cold Hearts are a well-oiled machine, but the Blizzards seem to be out for blood.

“Are you blind, Stripes?” Dad roars. “That’s clearly high sticking.”

I glance over at Audrey just to make sure she wasn’t startled, but she’s got her pink cat headphones on and is completely absorbed in coloring a fairy princess.

Another knot of tension loosens from my back. I’d been so worried about how she’d react to the noise, and here she is handling it like a champion.

I smirk. “You know the ref can hear you about as well as he can when you watch at home, right, Dad?”

He shoves my shoulder playfully. “I’m a loud guy. It might happen for me. Stranger things have happened, Kiddo.”

It doesn’t take me long to get swept up in it and join in with the shouting. Near the end of the first period, I’m as loud, if not louder, than Dad, and I’m sure my face is just as blotchy as his and Mom’s. The Blizzards are playing a dirty game, and the calls are borderline ridiculous.

“Stop whiffing the biscuit! Are you fu…” —I look down at Audrey and course correct— “freaking kidding me?” I shout.

No wonder Alexei is always complaining about Fitz. How the hell is he not riding the pine yet?

I nearly jump when Audrey tugs at my pants leg. “Mama, can I have one of the biscuits?”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“You said something about whipped biscuits and I’m hungry. I want one, please,” she says.

I bend down to her level. “Sorry, Pumpkin, biscuit is another word for the puck they’re playing with down there. I just got really excited.”

“Can I still have another snack from the table?” she asks.

“Sure.” I smile and stand up.

Damn, she’s got perfect timing. We’re right at the end of the first period. We’ll be able to get a snack from the table and be back before the Zamboni is even off the ice.

Then I see the waiters coming in to refresh the table, and true to his word, Mr. Connelly is making his way to us with a little bowl and spoon in one hand.

“Actually, the snack is coming to us.” I smile.

She looks around confused then stands on her tip-toes and tries again.

“I can’t see,” she says, starting to sound distressed. “Everyone is too big.”

I can sense the meltdown on the horizon. I crouch back down to her level.

“They’re on their way over,” I reassure her. “Would you like to blow out the candles while you wait?”

She nods.

“How many candles?” I ask.

Audrey holds up her fingers

I nod. “Four it is.”

I hold my fingers in front of her lips. She takes a comically big breath and slowly blows down my fingers. By the time all the “candles” are out, she”s got a smile on her face.

I swear I could kiss her teacher for showing me that trick. Honestly, I wish we had that sort of thing in school when I was little. I probably wouldn”t have had so many notes sent home if I”d had a resource like that.

I saw the sorbet, but I didn”t see the bear until he pulled it out from behind his back. He catches me looking at the jersey-clad bear and steps over to me after presenting Audrey with her treat.

“I hope you”ll forgive my assumption, but I figured you”d come in through the V.I.P. gate. They were only giving out the bears to the kids at the general admission gate for family fun day since we don”t get too many V.I.P. kiddos up here. I didn”t want you guys to miss out,” he explains.

“Thank you.” I smile. “Your wife is one lucky lady.”

“That”s what I keep trying to tell her, but apparently, leaving my socks all over the house negates all that.” He shrugs good-naturedly.

“Mmm, I think I”ll have to side with her on that one,” I tease, and we both laugh.

At the top of the third period, Audrey falls asleep in her chair.

I”ll never cease to be amazed at how she can just drop off like that.

The score is tied two-two now and the game is only getting dirtier. I watch as Ian and Alexei race across the ice so quickly they seem to blur. It amazes me how in sync they are. They’re determined to play as clean a game as possible and have had several near-misses with the Blizzards.

My heart is in my throat watching them attempt play after play. I can tell by the way Oliver keeps shifting around in goal that I’m not the only one worried about those two.

Alexei breaks away with the puck, two Blizzard players hot on his heels.

I jump to my feet screaming in a way that ensures I’ll be completely hoarse tomorrow.

There’s one minute left. If the Cold Hearts score, it’ll be hard for the Blizzards to tie things up again. Winning this game also means they win the series. Games six and seven won’t have to be played, which means I have more time with them all to myself.

It might not be the most altruistic reason to want a win, but I don’t care. No matter how much time we spend together or texting, it never feels like enough. Being with them is like walking into your best friend’s childhood house. It’s new and foreign but somehow feels immediately like home.

A blue and white streak comes out of nowhere, slamming elbow first into Alexei’s back.

Before the ref can even call the penalty, Ian streaks across the ice and cold clocks the player who rammed Alexei. The other guy is bigger, but Ian has him on the ground pinned down with his stick in a matter of seconds.

I should be horrified by it, but I would have absolutely done the same thing if I were out there. Throwing a punch or checking someone is all part of the game, but that was one of the most unsportsmanlike things I’ve ever seen.

Shrill whistles pierce the air, and both Ian and the Blizzards’ player are sent off the ice.

In the relative quiet, I manage to hear the commentators on the T.V. near the back of the room.

“The most surprising thing about this game, Jim, isn’t that Corbitt’s managed to land himself in the sin bin but that it took this long in the game for it to happen.” He laughs.

“That is not where I thought you were going with that, Rick,” Jim says.

“What do you mean?” Rick demands.

“Ian’s had an assist, a goal, and now a fight that’s landed him in the sin bin. That’s a Gordie Howe hat trick. His second one this season.” Jim laughs.

I don’t hear any more. Alexei is lining up for his penalty shot and he’s all I can see. He’s moving slowly, running down the clock as much as he can.

Yes! He manages to sink a goal in the five hole with two seconds to spare.

When the buzzer goes off, the entire stadium explodes with screams and cheers.

I glance worriedly down at Audrey, but she’s fast asleep holding the little bear she got today tightly to her chest.

The stadium empties quickly after the game ends except for the team box. We’re not kept waiting too much longer. The players with family pour in to another round of cheering, and somehow, I’m more tense now that my men are face to face with my parents than I was watching the game.

Dad does his best not to fawn over them, but the stars in his eyes give him away and they immediately charm Mom—and embarrass me—by telling her what an amazing physical therapist I am.

I feel a tug on my pants leg. Somehow, even though she slept through thousands of people cheering, it’s our conversation that wakes her up.

Her eyes are bigger than the moon as she gapes at them in awe.

“Mama, you’re friends with giants!” she says, clasping her hands rapturously.

Then she turns to them and shouts, “Hi, Giants, can you hear me up there?”

Their eyes all soften, and I know she’s managed to charm them too.

Oliver kneels down to her level and introduces himself. My blood freezes in my veins.

Is this the moment it all comes crashing down?

Please, please, please don’t let this be happening in such a public place, I beg the universe.

Suddenly shy, Audrey hides behind my leg.

“I like your bear,” he says in a lower volume this time. “Did you notice we match?”

Audrey peeks out from behind my leg and giggles. “Silly goose, you got a three one on yours. Bear is number nine.”

“Nice job noticing!” He grins. “You’re pretty smart.”

She gasps, “You have pimples too!”

Oliver looks up at me, confused.

“Dimples,” I explain.

“No way,” he says. “Let me see.”

Audrey grins.

“Dimple twins!” Oliver crows. “How about a high-five?”

In my peripheral vision, I see my mother’s eyes dart between Audrey’s dimples and Oliver’s, then their ears. Now that they’re side by side, I can see they’re identical.

She clears her throat and raises her eyebrows at me when I look over. Against my will, I feel a flush creeping over my cheeks. Her lips pinch together like they always do when she’s fighting to keep from blurting things out.

Fuck.

Oliver might not have noticed, but she sure as hell did.