“Yeah.”
“He’s handsome.”
“Thank you.”
She sat on the couch next to him. “So, was that his nanny?”
“His mother.”
One perfect brow rose up her flawless forehead. “I never would have guessed that.”
The pain throbbed along his shoulder and down his arm. He leaned his head back and shifted the bag of peas a little to the right. “Why?”
“She’s…” She shrugged as she struggled for the right words. “Ordinary, I guess.”
Ordinary? Autumn? With her red hair and deep green eyes and sassy pink mouth. Autumn wasn’t ordinary, but he supposed he’d thought that, too, on more than one occasion. But there were those other occasions. Those times when he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Didn’t want to take his eyes off her. Like just a few minutes ago, standing in his bathroom beneath the chandelier shining in her hair. Those rare occasions when she didn’t blow hot and cold. When she was hot and hotter.
“Where’d you meet her?”
He didn’t want to talk about Autumn. He didn’t even want to think about her. Thinking about her brought up memories of “conceiving” with her. For some reason, Conner’s questions had triggered memories of sex with Autumn. Hot sex in a hotel room, against a wal , in a shower, and speeding through Vegas in a limo.
“Did you meet her when you moved to Seattle?”
“Not now, V.” He was in pain, drugged up, and his thoughts about Autumn, about the past and present, about sex and her mercurial moods were as muddled and confusing as ever.
Veronica opened her mouth to argue, but the doorbel rang and saved him from the model’s gril ing. It was probably Howie. At least he hoped to God it was Howie and not some former girlfriend. He’d had enough drama for one day. “Would you get that for me, V?”
She gave him a look that said she wasn’t through, but she did raise her skinny butt off the couch and answer the door. When she returned, Howie trailed after her, and Sam could have kissed the assistant trainer on his bald head.
“Why aren’t you wearing your figure-of-eight splint?”
Sam pressed the peas into his shoulder and stood. “I was going to take a shower.”
Howie looked at Veronica and frowned. “What part of ‘no physical activity’ didn’t you understand?”
Sam chuckled. Howie had the wrong idea and blamed the wrong female. “I thought I could handle it.”
“Al you hockey players think you’re Superman.”
Which was somewhat true. They spent their lives battling it out night after night, and it wasn’t until they ended up on the injured list that they realized that they were, in reality, flesh and bone. That they weren’t invincible. A fact that Sam was made aware of more frequently the older he got. He spent the next four days at home alone, resting, recuperating, and going batshit crazy while the Chinooks hit the road for a six-game, two-week grind. That fol owing Monday, he walked to the Key Arena and had Howie help him strap on his skates. He participated in a light skate with some of the other guys left behind when the team hit the road. Since he shot right, he was able to dangle a few pucks one-handed. He didn’t have to wear the arm sling, but stil wore the figure-eight splint. He’d learned his lesson about taking it off for too long a period of time. Sam hated staying behind. He’d stayed behind before, of course. There were eighty-two games in the regular season, and most players didn’t play every game for various reasons, but he hated languishing on the injured list.
After a week, his shoulder didn’t hurt as much, but he was stil a month from returning to the game. He picked up Conner from kindergarten, and his son introduced him to his teacher and some of his little buddies. Parading him around as if to say, “See, I have a dad.”
Sam took him to the rink, and they had the ice to themselves. His son didn’t show a ton of aptitude on his skates. He couldn’t seem to stay on his feet, but when he did manage, he wasn’t a bad shot, for a five-year-old. Wednesday, Sam worked his legs and core muscles in the weight room at the arena, and Thursday, he asked Autumn to bring Conner to the Key. He told her Natalie was in school and couldn’t bring him. Which was kind of a lie. Natalie was in school, just not on Thursdays. He wasn’t sure why he lied other than he was somewhat curious to see if she’d actual y show. After that day he’d been al doped up and wanted to talk about her cupcakes, he wasn’t sure if things were back to somewhat normal. Or what served as somewhat normal for him and Autumn.
He arranged for someone from the office to meet her and Conner and bring them to the lower level. He was half-shocked when she actual y showed up around noon. Dressed in her peacoat over one of the Mrs. Cleaver dresses she wore sometimes. He wouldn’t have put it past her to show up in Crosby’s jersey.
Conner sat on the team bench, and she took off her coat before crouching in front of him to lace up his skates. Her red hair fel across her shoulder and cheek, and she brushed it behind one ear. The hem of her blue-and-white polka-dot dress slid up her bare thighs toward her waist. He liked it when women didn’t wear nylons. Unless, of course, they were attached to a red garter belt.
“Knock knock, Dad.”
Sam groaned inwardly and raised his gaze from Autumn’s thighs. “Who’s there?”
He grinned and answered, “Sam.”
“Sam who?”
“Sam person who knocked last night.”
Sam laughed. “That was a good one.”
“I know.”
Autumn chuckled and glanced up, her green eyes catching his for a brief moment before her gaze returned to Conner’s skate. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay if I don’t overdo.” He sat on the bench and helped Conner strap on his elbow pads.
Autumn tied the last lace in a double knot and looked up at Sam, his blond head bent over Conner’s as he worked with one hand. She’d picked up Conner and come straight from work. Earlier, she and Shiloh had met with Shiloh’s friends, Lisa and Jen, to plan their commitment ceremony. It wasn’t the first time they’d planned a same- sex commitment ceremony, but it was the first time they’d done it for friends, and they wanted their day to be perfect. After she’d picked up Conner from school, she’d driven to the Key Arena and parked in the garage. The two had been met by someone within the Chinooks’ organization and moved through the concrete maze within the bel y of the arena. At the end, Sam had been standing on rubber mats near the entrance to the tunnel, waiting for them. He wore black sweats with a fish logo and looked huge in his skates. He wasn’t wearing any pads or the sling on his arm. He looked hot and sweaty. His hair was finger-combed like he’d been working out. Alone or with one of his supermodels. Unfortunately, she knew about Sam’s workouts. Knew that he had the stamina and determination of an elite athlete.
A frown creased her brow. Best not to think about Sam’s thoroughness. “This isn’t overdoing?”
“No. Not unless Conner hip checks me and slams my face into the Plexiglas. ”
Conner laughed. “I won’t put the big hurt on you, Dad.”
Autumn reached for a fitted kneepad on the bench and strapped it on.
“I don’t need those.”
“You don’t want them, but you
“You’l get used to wearing your gear. Your helmet, too. It’s part of the game,” Sam said as he handed her the left kneepad. “My mom used to help me with my gear.”
“And your dad, too?”
Sam shook his head. “He wasn’t interested in my hockey.”
Not interested in his own son? Autumn paused in the act of securing the Velcro behind Conner’s knee. He had to be joking. He looked at her without lifting his face, and said as if he’d read her mind, “He was a police officer. A very good police officer. He just wasn’t a very good dad.”
Like him. He lowered his gaze, but not before Autumn saw the thought clearly expressed in his eyes. She had to give Sam some credit. Lately, he’d been paying a lot more attention to Conner. He was trying hard and keeping his word to his son. If she were a betting woman, she would have bet against him. She’d have bet that he would have gone back to his old ways already. Then again, it had only been a month and a half since the arrival of the new and improved Sam.
