Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
ALEC
The compulsion to ask Evie about her ex-husband is stronger than I expect. Even more surprising: the impulse to find the man and pummel him for causing the grief that just flickered across her face from a simple text. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, hiding behind a mask of determined indifference, but I saw it before Evie schooled it away, and I’m not sure I can forget it.
Does she miss him? Do they still talk? Is he involved in Juno’s life at all?
I’m not sure it’s my place to ask, which means it’s definitely not my place to punch the guy on her behalf. But I still wish I could.
Bare minimum, I want to make her feel better, distract her from whatever she’s feeling, which has me reaching for my duffel, rummaging through it to find the baby things Summer picked up for me.
Just as Summer promised it would be, the white plastic merch bag was in my stall after the game. It stayed there until I finished with Dr. Samuelson and returned to retrieve it. My teammates were all long gone by then, but I still pushed the gift to the bottom of my bag before leaving the Summit. Not sure who I was hiding it from. Maybe myself.
Now that I have it in my hands and I’m really paying attention, the bag feels slightly more full than it should, and I wonder if Summer included a few extra things.
“You okay?” Evie asks.
The time it took me to find the shiny white plastic was just long enough for me to realize how this might look, and I start to doubt. “I’m fine,” I say, but my voice is a little too breathy, almost squeaky.
I clear my throat and try again. “I’m fine,” I say, my voice normal this time, but based on Evie’s expression, I’m not doing myself any favors here.
Will this give her the wrong idea? Seem presumptuous? Is seconds after her ex-husband texted really the time to make a gesture like this?
I stand up and tuck the bag behind my back. Maybe I can get it into the kitchen and stash it in a cabinet without Evie realizing I’m holding something. I turn my body and back toward the kitchen without turning around, but she stops me by asking, “What’s in the bag?”
I spin so my back is to her and shove the bag under my shirt. It’s bulky and obvious and I’m being ridiculous, but suddenly, the idea of giving her a gift like this feels way too personal.
“Nothing,” I say over my shoulder, using my arms to hide the bulge under my clothes.
Evie grins, her tone light as she asks, “If it’s nothing, why are you hiding it from me?”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I lie.
Evie stands and reaches down to give Juno her pacifier before rounding the couch and approaching me. She walks slowly, a smile playing on her lips, until she’s less than a foot away. “I think you’re lying to me,” she says. Then, quick as lightning, she snakes one hand under my shirt.
My hands fly to my midsection, trapping and holding the bag in place, but I end up trapping Evie too, flattening her palm against my stomach.
I relax my grip, expecting her to tug her hand away, but instead she does the opposite. She slides her hand upward, grazing it over my skin until her fingers brush the bottom of my right pectoral muscle. I flex, my breath catching in my throat, and Evie grins, her expression sly as she drops her hand and yanks the bag free.
“That was way too easy,” she says with a smirk.
I can’t do anything but smile. Partly because my skin is still tingling from her touch. But more because the light in Evie’s eyes that disappeared when Devon texted is back now, and seeing it sends warmth across my chest.
I like making her happy.
The next realization is a little more potent.
I just like her. And no amount of mental gymnastics will talk me out of it.
I grip the back of my neck, feeling sheepish as Evie peers inside the bag. She looks for one second, then two before her gaze jumps back to mine, a question in her eyes. “Is this…?”
“For Juno,” I say.
Slowly, she pulls out two different footie pajama-looking things. One is turquoise and white striped with an Appies logo on the butt, and the other is solid turquoise with the words “Littlest Appies Fan” stitched on the front.
“I figured if you’re living in Harvest Hollow,” I say, “she needs to look like a true Appies fan.”
“Alec,” Evie says softly as she looks them over. “These are perfect.”
“If they aren’t the right size, I can exchange them,” I say, but she shakes her head as she looks at the tag. “No need. They’ll fit her right now.” She moves around the couch, dropping the Appies bag onto the coffee table before she kneels down next to Juno, holding up the pajamas like she wants her daughter’s approval. “Do you see what Alec brought home for you? You get to be an Appie just like him!”
An odd sensation washes over me, something I’ve never really felt before. It isn’t just attraction, though I do feel attracted to Evie. It feels more protective. Like I have extra reason to check the door locks. Or go upstairs and make sure all the windows are securely fastened in her bedroom.
I’m still puzzling out what this means when the front door clicks open. It has to be the twins, and as much as I hate that they’re interrupting my time with Evie— again —I’m a little glad for the distraction. Otherwise, I might start remembering the sensation of Evie’s palm sliding over my skin or imagining how it would feel if she touched me like that for real.
“What’s up, what’s uppppp?” Theo steps into the room with Carter quick on his heels. “How’s everybody doing?” Theo’s cheeks are flushed, his words a little too soft around the edges, and I immediately know he’s been drinking.
I exchange a quick glance with Evie. She’s still on the floor next to Juno, and she wordlessly unbuckles her daughter and pulls her into her arms. Theo doesn’t look the least bit dangerous, but I don’t blame her for wanting Juno close.
I glance over at Carter. “Please tell me you weren’t also drinking.”
“No, sir,” Carter says. “I was driving, so I didn’t have anything.”
“Where were you?” I ask. “You didn’t just go to Felix’s?” It’s a stupid question because they obviously went somewhere else. Felix would never have let them drink at his place.
Carter at least has the decency to look chagrined. “We started there, but then we stopped by a party at the end of Maple Street.”
“A boring party,” Theo says. “The girls were lame.” He moves around the couch and picks up the Appies bag, his gaze landing on the baby clothes Evie already pulled out. “Dude? Is this Appies stuff for the baby?”
He reaches into the bag, surprising me when he pulls out an adult-sized Appies jersey. He holds it up, and I catch a glimpse of my last name stitched in turquoise letters across the back. Sheridan.
Theo frowns. “I think this is probably too big for her.”
I shift my eyes to Evie, heat climbing the back of my neck as her eyebrows lift.
“Is that for me?” she asks.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Yes. Of course it’s for you.”
Theo chuckles. “Way to make a move, Captain. Giving her your jersey. Classic .”
I can’t read Evie’s expression, and for a moment, I have no idea what to say. If I protest Theo’s comment, will it make Evie think I’m not making a move? That I would never make one?
I’m still mulling over an acceptable response when Evie stands, Juno tucked against her, and moves around the coffee table toward Theo. “I’ve been wearing his jerseys since I was nine,” she says. “His sister and I both did. We wore them to all of Alec’s high school games.”
Theo snorts. “Is that how old you were when he was in high school?” He looks at me. “You’re like…a grandpa.”
Evie plucks the jersey out of Theo’s hands. “He’s not a grandpa. And you’re turning this into something it isn’t.”
I study Evie’s expression, wondering if that’s what she truly thinks. It wasn’t my idea to give Evie a jersey, but there’s definitely been a vibe between us tonight. She can claim this is no different than her wearing my jersey when we were kids, but it isn’t going to feel the same for me.
As if to illustrate that point, Evie lifts Juno into my arms. “Hold her a sec?” She quickly yanks the tag off the jersey, then tugs it over her head and pushes her arms through the sleeves.
A strange possessiveness pushes through me at the sight, but it’s quickly eclipsed by my present reality.
I’m holding a baby.
Or…sort of holding a baby? I might as well be holding a basketball. Juno is dangling from my hands, little legs kicking, eyes wide as she looks up at me.
“Want me to hold her?” Carter asks, stepping toward us. “I’ve got a niece, so I know how.”
A part of me wants to agree, but a bigger part doesn’t want to give the baby up. Suddenly, Juno makes a cute babbling noise before her mouth lifts into an enormous grin. We’re making eye contact, she’s looking right at me, and she smiles. I pull her closer. “No, I want to hold her.” I look down at Evie. “I just don’t know how.”
“Just tuck her against your chest.” Evie reaches up and positions my arm just below Juno’s butt, then moves the other so it’s supporting her back.
Juno shifts her weight forward, one hand clamping onto my shirt, and Evie grins. “See? Just like that.”
I bounce Juno lightly in my arms. “Hi, Juno,” I say, feeling a strange sense of wonder. I look over at Evie, completely forgetting the awkwardness that punctuated the last few minutes. “This is pretty awesome.”
“I love hanging out with my baby niece,” Carter says, warmth in his expression. “But my sister says I only feel that way because I only hold her when she’s happy.”
Behind him, Theo drops onto the couch and leans his head back, lifting his feet to prop them on the coffee table.
“True, but this is a good place to start,” Evie says. She smooths her hands down the front of the jersey, holding my gaze. “I love this,” she says, her tone warm. “And the things for Juno. Thank you for thinking of us.”
The Appies turquoise across the shoulder and down the sleeve brings out the blue in Evie’s eyes. But more than that, the genuine gratitude in her expression keeps me from feeling any regret about giving her the jersey. Even if it wasn’t my idea to do it.
“Can we watch something?” Theo says, reaching for the remote.
“Nah, man. Let’s leave them alone,” Carter says. “You’re annoying when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” Theo says.
I don’t love that Theo and Carter left the team dinner for another party. Had I been with them, I would have encouraged them to stay, to get to know their teammates. Avoid partying when our season’s just starting. I can’t fix the way things went down, but I can hopefully do a little bit of damage control now. “Actually, why don’t you pick out a movie, Carter?” I say. “I’ll make some coffee for Theo, then we can all watch.”
“I can make coffee,” Evie says, moving toward the kitchen. “And pop some popcorn. As long as you’re happy holding the baby.”
She moves around the island while I pace behind the couch, a soft bounce in my step as I rub my hand up and down Juno’s back. Eventually, her head drops onto my shoulder, one hand lifting to her face as she rubs it against her eyes.
“Is it okay if she goes to sleep?”
Evie turns and looks at me across the island, her expression tender. “She’s fine if you’re fine,” she says. “If she does, we can take her upstairs and put her to bed.” Evie winces the slightest bit before quickly correcting herself. “Not we. I don’t know why I said we. I just mean I. I can put her to bed.”
I nod, growing more and more comfortable with having Juno in my arms. Honestly, I didn’t really mind that Evie said we. I thought I meant it when I told Megan I didn’t do babies, but that was before I met Juno. Before I realized how fun this is.
As I continue my pacing, I leave the living area and move into the hallway that leads toward the front door. There’s a mirror on the wall halfway there, and I stop, turning to the side so I can see Juno’s face. Her head is fully on my shoulder, her eyes heavy, but she’s clearly fighting, trying to stay awake. I sway back and forth a few times until finally she takes a deep breath and her eyes fall closed, her weight sinking into me as she fully relaxes.
I haven’t felt a stronger sense of victory since we took the Calder Cup last season. Juno is asleep— in my arms. I did this. And it feels amazing.
I snuggle her a little closer, my cheek dropping onto her baby-soft head.
When I look up again, Evie is watching me from the end of the hall.
I offer her a tentative smile. “I don’t know what I did,” I whisper.
She slowly walks toward me, her hand lifting to Juno’s back. “You must have a magic touch.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, but Evie only shakes her head.
“Trust me. She doesn’t go to sleep for just anyone.”
“I’m happy to help anytime,” I say. “I mean, as long as I’m here.”
“That’s right. You’re leaving soon, aren’t you? I remember you saying I’d have the house all to myself.”
“Tomorrow morning,” I say. “Bright and early.”
Something like disappointment flickers across her expression, but then she smiles, her hand lifting to Juno’s face where she brushes a stray curl off her forehead. “We’ll have all the dance parties we want, Junebug,” Evie whispers.
She leaves her hand on Juno’s back for a moment, her body swaying toward me the slightest bit. There’s an easy comfort to how we’re standing, linked by Juno, our voices pitched low, and I find myself wishing we could stay like this a while longer.
“I know I said I’d take her,” Evie says, “but do you mind coming with me and carrying her upstairs? I’m afraid we’ll wake her otherwise.”
“Not at all,” I quickly say. “Lead the way.”
I toe off my shoes at the foot of the stairs and follow Evie up to her bedroom. She leaves the room dark but flips the switch in the bathroom so there’s enough light to see by as I walk Juno over to the portable crib.
“Over here first,” Evie whispers. She lays out a blanket looking thing on the bed and motions for me to lay Juno on top. My knee pinches the slightest bit as I lower Juno to the bed, but I ignore it, watching as Evie maneuvers Juno’s arms through the sleeves and zips up the blanket.
“Uh, that thing is really cool,” I say, and Evie grins.
“It’s a sleep sack. Easier than blankets because she can’t get tangled up in them.”
Once Juno is safely bundled, Evie lifts her and carries her over to her crib where she lowers her in. She grabs the baby monitor, then together, we walk into the hall and close the door behind us.
“It’s crazy that she didn’t wake up through all of that,” I say.
“She’s usually pretty good about staying asleep,” Evie says through a yawn. “Sheesh. I’m tired. I hope the twins picked something exciting.”
As much as I’d love to have Evie watch a movie with us, she has to be exhausted. She’d probably enjoy going to bed herself now that Juno is asleep.
“Listen, you don’t have to watch a movie with me and the twins,” I whisper. “I need to spend some time with them, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”
She waves away my comment. “I want to. I can already smell the popcorn, and now I want some.” She leans against the wall, arms crossed. “What’s going on with the twins?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure, actually. They’re doing okay on the ice, but I don’t love that they’re leaving team dinners to party right in the middle of the season. I don’t know. The transition can be tough when you start so young.”
“How old are they?”
“Barely eighteen,” I say, and her eyes widen the slightest bit.
“Wow. Yeah. That’s young.”
I let out a little huff. “You’re one to talk. Did you have to tell them you were nine when I was in high school?”
She grins. “Sorry, old man. The truth hurts, but it’s still the truth.” She cocks her head to the side. “Hey, how’s your knee?”
“So we go from calling me an old man to bringing up my knee problems? Hit me where it hurts, nerd.”
“I’m sorry! That’s not why I asked…” She purses her lips to the side. “Okay, actually, that’s exactly why I asked. But I promise I really do want to know.”
“It’s doing okay. I saw the team doc before leaving the Summit,” I say, recognizing how much easier it is to say this to Evie than it would be to my teammates. “He came up with a new plan to manage the inflammation. I just have to hope it works.”
“You don’t have any other options?” she asks.
I lean against the wall and fold my arms over my chest. “Surgery. But I’ve already had three. Another would probably take me out for the season.”
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Nah. It’s not too bad,” I whisper. “Probably not as bad as bleeding nipples.”
She lifts her hands to her face and covers her cheeks. “Please don’t remind me I actually said that out loud.”
“I’m glad you did. It keeps the playing field even because you’re still the only person outside of the Appies staff who knows how bad things are with my knee.”
Her expression warms, and for a split second, I imagine what it would be like to kiss her.
“Come on,” she says, tilting her head toward the stairs. “Let’s go watch a movie.”
“Are you sure?”
Evie nods. “Yeah. I’m sleepy, but the idea of spending time with grown-ups sounds pretty nice.”
“We’re calling the twins grown-ups?”
She chuckles. “Practice grown-ups?”
“Better.” Halfway down the stairs, I add, “So just putting this out there. I’ll happily put Juno to sleep any time you need it.”
She looks at me over her shoulder and grins. “Already so smitten.”
Completely, I think, as I follow her into the living room.
And not just with Juno.