Chapter 4 #2
“True but I need help now. I could hire a nanny, but they all want fulltime work, and honestly, I’m a stay-at-home mom because I don’t want my kids being raised by a nanny.
I want to be there for all the moments, and hockey games.
With college out, it’s hard to get staff.
” She blows out a breath. “But this too shall pass.”
Okay. Grant equals grandpa. Avery, Andre, and Carla equal employees who are leaving. Tate equals…tiny human. Zoe is big sister. Got it.
“Until then, I’m stretched thin. Ash tries to help on his days off, but let’s face it, he needs to concentrate on the playoffs. He attempted cinnamon rolls last week and Roman nearly had to call the fire department. Plus Roman not getting his fix of cinnamon rolls, that was enough cause for alarm.”
Brighton snorts into her wine. “God, was it really that bad.” When Gina nods, Brighton squeezes her hand. “I wish I could help.”
“You’re busy enough with your own kids and work,” Gina says, brushing it off with another sigh. “Hopefully we’ll find someone before Vegas.”
Brighton swivels toward me, eyes sparkling. “Oh, we’re all going to Vegas in June. It’s my birthday and I thought we could all use a girls’ trip. I’ll send you the dates and flight info.” She squeezes my hands like we’ve been besties for decades. “It’s going to be so much fun.”
I clutch my glass tighter, nearly sloshing Chardonnay onto my lap.
Vegas? I’m elbows deep in a town hall scandal that’s eating my life alive.
I can’t just jet off for a weekend of feather boas and slot machines.
Can I? My last vacation was Christmas… and the one before that…
also Christmas. Basically, my PTO (paid time off) strategy is Santa Claus–exclusively.
Maybe I should go. I’m borderline burnt out.
Do not let anyone, or anything stand in your way of your career, you’ll only regret it.
As my mom’s words bounce around inside my brain, along with a dose of guilt that I was the one thing that stood in the way of hers, the lights shift and a buzz ripples through the crowd. The players are coming down the tunnel.
My heart leaps into my throat. I’ve watched the games before, sure, but never from a glass box. Never as someone’s girlfriend. The weight of the lie presses in, hot and heavy, even as excitement zings through my veins.
Brady skates out first, his gaze immediately finding his wife. His grin is pure adoration, the kind that makes ovaries sigh. Then Noah, and Brighton practically clutches her chest like she’s watching a proposal all over again.
“It never gets old,” she murmurs, voice thick with love.
Ash follows, and Gina squeals under her breath, bouncing in her seat like a teenager at a boy-band concert. I grin at her, but her eyes are glued to her husband.
A strange ache presses against my ribs. Envy. The happy-for-them kind, but envy all the same. To be looked at like that, like you’re the entire reason someone laces up skates or breathes air.
One by one, the guys take the ice, and then—Jaxon.
I don’t expect him to glance up, let alone acknowledge me. But he does. His eyes cut to mine like a spotlight, and that ridiculously cute grin curves his mouth.
And just like that, my pulse stutters, and I think I might be pregnant. My body reacts in ways it has absolutely no business reacting. Heat spirals low in my belly, sharp and demanding.
What is happening to me?
Jaylynn nudges my ribs, and I tear my gaze away from Jaxon like I’ve been caught staring at the sun. Her grin is pure mischief, teeth flashing in the low light. She leans close, her whisper tickling my ear.
“And the Academy Award goes to…”
I bite my lip, my insides a chaotic mess, and jab her back with my elbow. “Shh.”
Brighton leans toward the glass, and I do too. “My heart is pounding,” she says, almost breathless and that’s when I realize…same.
The puck drops and the guys are darting across the ice like lightning, sticks clashing, the puck bouncing unpredictably. The sounds of skates scraping, the thwack of the puck, and distant whistles fill the air.
“Wow,” Gina breathes, leaning forward. “Look at Jaxon go. I think he might be trying to impress someone,” she teases.
Brighton laughs, practically vibrating with excitement. “He’s unstoppable tonight. Look, he’s about to pull a spin pass.”
I can’t help but watch as Jaxon passes the puck to Penn, and bodies move in a blur of action that I can’t keep up with. The puck is back on Jaxon’s stick, and my heart does this ridiculous flutter every time he handles it.
Brighton squeezes my hand and leans closer. “See that? That’s the part that makes you go wow, look at the teamwork, the strategy…” Her eyes twinkle, and I can tell she’s enjoying my flustered expression more than the actual game.
Jaxon passes to Noah and Brighton points. “Jaxon just set up a perfect shot for Noah.” Noah takes the shot, and scores. The buzzer goes off and the next thing I know we’re all on our feet, and my wine is all over my shirt, but I don’t care.
“Oh, that was beautiful,” Jaylynn says as she squeezes my arm.
The guys hug, and I try to quiet my heart, my gaze on Jaxon. His head lifts, and a grin touches his mouth as his eyes lock with mine from across the rink. I take a deep breath, and we all sit again. Jaylynn disappears for a second and comes back with napkins and another glass of wine.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough,” she tells me.
“Figure what out?” I really hope she’s not talking about me and Jaxon.
“How to jump up without spilling wine.” She gestures with a nod and I laugh when I see that Brighton and Gina hadn’t spilled a drop.
I sip my wine and concentrate on the ice when they begin a new play. Every pass, every flash of movement, is a little thrill—like I’m in on some secret the ice doesn’t know about.
Brighton laughs again. “I swear, it never gets old. You just…watch, and your stomach flips every time they make a good play. It’s hockey magic.”
I glance back at her, then down at the rink. The puck slides, sticks scraping, and Jaxon maneuvers past a defender with that damn grin. My pulse jumps.
I tighten my grip on the glass and let out a small breath.
It’s just the wives and girlfriends watching a game.
An important game, sure, and I’m not really a girlfriend.
Yet…somewhere deep inside, I’m thinking I could get used to this—the camaraderie of the women in the box, the thrill of watching the game, and yes…
the distracting pull of Jaxon on the ice and the way he constantly seems to check in with me.
Oh boy.