Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Dean turned onto Victor’s street, already smiling to himself. The firepit would be going before the sun disappeared. Victor was predictable that way.
The minute the temperature dipped below seventy at the end of summer or climbed above freezing after a long winter, his friend declared it firepit weather.
It didn’t matter if it was April or October.
If there was the slightest chill in the air, Victor was determined to spend it sitting next to a crackling fire.
Victor was like a kid on Christmas morning when it came to firepits. And of course, no Victor firepit was complete without hot dogs, mountain pies, and enough marshmallows to feed a small army.
It was actually Victor who’d introduced him to mountain pies back when they’d still been teammates.
A city boy, Dean didn’t have a clue there was such a thing, though he had to admit he was a big fan now.
Victor had patiently taught him how to butter one side of two slices of white bread before sandwiching fillings inside.
Afterward, they clamped the pie irons shut, nestling them against the edge of the flames, flipping from time to time.
Dean had barely made it out of the locker room after practice today before Victor cornered him with an invitation to join them tonight.
“Belle’s picking up supplies,” Victor had announced. “Six-thirty. Come hungry.”
Dean, who’d had zero interest in going home and eating alone, had accepted without hesitation. Now, as he pulled into the driveway, he spotted a small figure wearing a glittery rainbow-colored helmet, standing beside a pink bicycle near the garage.
Pip.
He frowned, suddenly regretting that he hadn’t asked Victor who else would be attending. To be honest, he wasn’t surprised by that failing. His head had been in the clouds the past five days.
Ever since he’d followed Vivian back to her house and engaged in some sexy afternoon delight.
True to what was apparently their M.O., they hadn’t discussed a goddamn thing following their escapades on her couch—and later in her shower. They hadn’t promised to text, or made plans to see each other again, or said anything that might help him figure out what the fuck was going on between them.
He knew why he hadn’t initiated that conversation. Dean still wasn’t sure what he wanted this thing to be.
No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. He knew all the way to the depths of his soul that he wanted to be with Vivian again, and not just in a casual-affair way.
He genuinely enjoyed her company—and he didn’t mean just the sex.
He loved talking to her, something he hadn’t experienced with too many other women in his past.
What he didn’t know was if he should be with Vivian.
At this stage in his life, he was stuck in his ways, committed to his bachelor status and unencumbered lifestyle.
After forty-four years of singlehood, he didn’t have the first clue about how to be in a relationship.
It would be the equivalent of teaching an old dog new tricks, and it seemed unfair to expect that of Vivian, who was fourteen years younger and well-versed in commitment.
So, yeah. He knew why he was holding his tongue.
What he didn’t know was why Vivian wasn’t starting the conversation.
For the briefest second, he considered backing out before Pip noticed him, but he was too late. She glanced his direction and her face lit up.
“Coach Dee!” she called, waving enthusiastically.
He grinned, climbing out of his car. “Hey, Pip. Whatcha got there?”
Her smile faded, and that was when his gaze dropped to the bicycle and the object dangling from her hand. One training wheel.
“It came off,” she said, holding it up.
“I can see that.” He crouched beside the bike before spotting the missing nut lying in the driveway a few feet away. He walked over to retrieve it. “I can fix it.”
Pip looked at her bike for a moment before turning her attention back to him with a hopeful expression. “I’m too big for training wheels. Almost nobody in my class still has them. They’re for babies.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded with all the solemn conviction a five-year-old could muster, the glitter on her helmet flashing in the dying sunlight. “I’m in school now.”
Dean scratched the back of his neck. “If you don’t want training wheels anymore, I could just take the other one off.”
The words were out before he had time to think them through. Was that the right answer? He had absolutely no idea what age kids learned to ride bikes.
Pip’s entire face brightened. “Really?”
“Uh…”
“Will you teach me how to ride too?”
Dean had taught rookies how to improve their shot, shown teammates how to tweak their stick handling, and managed a rowdy roster of hockey players with more than their fair share of ego.
He’d never taught a kid how to ride a bike.
Before he could respond, Vivian stepped outside with a juice box, obviously surprised when she saw him standing there with Pip. Apparently, Victor hadn’t shared his guest list with her, either.
She smiled, lifting her hand in greeting. “Well, hello, stranger,” she said, with an ease that instantly calmed him down. He’d been a bit worried about how she might react toward him after their last encounter. A one-night stand in Boston was one thing, but continuing the affair was another.
Vivian hadn’t cried after their interlude on the couch.
Not that he’d expected tears. While she’d been blindsided by that outburst of emotion in Boston, to Dean, it made perfect sense.
It would have been weird if she hadn’t been impacted by the moment, stuck in that place where she was moving forward and looking back at the same time.
Dean suspected if he’d been in her shoes, he would have broken down as well.
“We’ve got a mechanical issue,” he said, holding up the detached training wheel.
“I can see that.”
Pip turned toward her mother. “Can I take the other one off?”
Vivian stopped beside them, her eyes moving from the bike to the wheel in Dean’s hand. He could practically see the debate playing out in her expression. Pride in her daughter, warring with a healthy dose of overprotectiveness.
“Pip,” Vivian started.
Pip’s stubborn stance—legs spread, arms crossed—made it clear she wasn’t going to back down. “I don’t need them anymore.”
“You might not,” Vivian agreed. “But they do make crashing less likely.”
“Nobody in my class still has training wheels,” Pip insisted, hitting her mother with the same argument she’d used on him.
Vivian looked at Dean, closing her eyes dramatically. “I didn’t think I’d have to deal with those kinds of comparisons until middle school,” she murmured to him. “And I figured it would be in regards to tech stuff…like a cell phone.”
Pip heard but clearly didn’t understand what that meant, or why Dean was chuckling.
“You’ve raised a precocious kid. Well done, you.” Dean was only half joking about that, because Vivian really was raising an intelligent, thoughtful, funny child.
She crinkled her nose in response to his comment before turning her attention back to Pip. Vivian was going to say no. Dean could see it, and so could Pip, whose shoulders sagged.
“I don’t mind teaching her,” he said, before fully thinking it through. He wasn’t sure why Pip’s unhappiness bothered him so much, but it did.
Vivian studied him.
“Only if you’re okay with it,” he hastily added.
Way to fucking overstep, idiot.
“You’d really do that?” Vivian asked.
He nodded as Pip started bouncing up and down excitedly.
“I suppose it is time,” Vivian conceded. “Okay. No more training wheels.”
Pip let out a squeal loud enough that it probably echoed through the entire cul-de-sac. “Yes!”
Dean walked back to his car. “I keep a set of basic tools in my truck. Just in case.” He retrieved a wrench from the toolbox before returning to the bike. He removed the remaining training wheel as Pip watched him with rapt attention.
“There,” he said a minute later, setting both training wheels just outside the garage.
Pip stared at her bicycle. “It looks different.”
“It is different,” her mother reminded her, in a tone that said she was having second thoughts.
“It looks fast!” Pip grinned, revealing a true daredevil’s heart that caused Vivian to groan.
They all turned when Victor and Belle emerged from the house, drinks in hand.
“Dean,” Victor called out. “When did you get here?”
“Just a little while ago.”
Victor leaned against the porch railing, noticing Pip’s bike. “Did I miss something?”
“Dean’s going to teach Pip how to ride without training wheels,” Vivian said, as Belle lit up with excitement.
“Oh yay!” Belle exclaimed. “Let me go get my phone so I can take some video. Don’t start without me,” she yelled, as she dashed back into the house.
“You sure you don’t want to do this?” Dean asked Victor. “Might be a job for an uncle.”
Victor wasn’t fooled by Dean’s attempt at getting out of something he probably shouldn’t have volunteered for.
“Fu—dge no,” Victor replied, cleaning up his language for Pip. God knew the man never attempted to curb his love of four-letter words for anyone else. He was practically a connoisseur when it came to his abundant—and sometimes creative—use of the f-word.
Belle returned with her phone, joining Vivian and Dean. Vivian knelt, checking to make sure her daughter’s helmet was secure.
“You’ve got this, Pip,” Belle cheered, when the little girl climbed onto the bike. Dean held it as steady as he could, but it was still a wobbly proposition. He grasped the back tightly as Pip slowly pedaled a few times before stopping and looking at him with wide, worried eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, prepared to put the training wheels back on if she was too scared.
“You won’t let me fall?”
“I won’t let you fall,” he said, praying that wasn’t a lie.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Dean was determined to make good on that vow when Pip’s eyes cleared and she gave him a look full of trust.
Vivian stood a few feet away, arms folded tightly across her chest, trying—and failing—not to look nervous.