Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
I remain stone-faced. “That sounds…real thoughtful. Holiday cheer and all.”
“No, dick. It was annoying as fuck. But I’ll find out who it was.”
“Watch your language,” I say, curling a hand around Mia’s shoulder for emphasis.
“Whatever.”
He’s such an ass. “Good luck finding out who your secret Santa is.”
“Yeah. I’ll be watching you,” he says, his beady eyes locked on mine.
“Sure you will. Because you want to learn from a better player. I get it.”
Mia lifts her chin, stands taller. “My dad scored a point last night,” Mia chimes in. Wanda gets in on my defense too, barking angrily at my rival.
The asshole shakes his head and walks off.
When he’s gone, Mia turns to me with inquisitive eyes. “Dad, did you send the carolers for him?”
I can’t lie to her. “I sure did.”
“Good. He deserves to be woken up.”
“Exactly. He’s been saying rude things about my teammates and their girlfriends and wives for years. It was time for a little payback.”
“You’re so smart. And ruthless,” she says, like a proud daughter.
And call me a proud papa. “Thanks. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I ruffle her hair as we wander back toward Main Street, Wanda trotting ahead. As we pass the town clock, I note the time—ten hours till my second practice date with Isla.
I’ve been patient since the other night. I haven’t pushed. I focused on hockey and Mia, and flashing a PR smile, as per Jason’s instructions, when the photog snapped pics at the contest yesterday morning.
Today though? I’ve got to turn my attention to Isla. When she texted this morning asking to meet at the North Pole Nook, she also sent instructions for our dating lesson. It’s so very her.
Isla: As part of your dating school, I want you to think of a story about yourself that you can tell me. Something you haven’t shared before. Something that makes you vulnerable. It’ll be good practice.
I’d rather have dinner with Karlsson than share something vulnerable. But if it’ll get me what I want—more practice dates with Isla—I’ll come up with something.
Mia’s spending the evening at an ornament-making class at the local pottery shop, so I’ve got some free time after I drop her off. I’ll head into the North Pole Nook tonight and work on my homework for a bit before Isla meets me there.
I walk along a side street, passing a cobblestoned alley I’ve never seen before. I stop, take a few steps, then peer down it. Ah, at the end of the little alley looks like there’s a courtyard tucked behind Rudy’s Coffee Shop, with fairy lights and all sorts of decorations. Probably a back patio for the shop. Isla would love that. Maybe that’s vulnerable? Telling her I saw this alley and thought of her?
No, idiot. She said make it about you.
Still, I explore the alley more, checking out details, filing them away, then I stalk the rest of the way to the bar, turning over stories I don’t want to tell. Regina walked out the morning I planned to propose. Regina left me with a letter. Regina hasn’t seen our daughter in almost five years.
That last one is like a rusty knife blade, excavating my heart. All those nights when Mia cried. They nearly broke me. I do not want to crack open that trunk of sad stories.
But maybe I’ll figure something else out in the North Pole Nook. I go inside, then peer closely at a familiar frame at the bar. The fucker didn’t tell me he was here. Corbin’s nursing a beer, chatting with the bartender.
“Dude. You didn’t tell me you were in town,” I say, then clap him on the back. “You keeping secrets now?”
“Yeah—a daughter who loves this town. I had two free nights without a game, so Charlotte convinced me to take her. She’s at the—”
“Ornament-making class?”
He laughs. “Yours too?”
“Yep. I didn’t go all the way in, so I didn’t see Charlotte. But great minds,” I say, then sit next to my friend and order a scotch. When the bartender leaves, I steal a glance at the door. Isla is the early type. But she’s not here yet.
That’s probably good, since I need to think about this whole “vulnerable homework.” Even though it makes my skin crawl like roaches are scurrying across me. Trying to shake off that image, I check out the door one more time.
When I turn back to Corbin, he’s smirking as he pushes his messy hair off his forehead. “You’re meeting someone you’re into. That’s why you just checked out the door. Twice. Guess the whole matchmaking thing is working out?”
Shit. My cheeks burn. How am I this obvious? “No. Not at all.”
Corbin gives me a look that says don’t bullshit a bullshitter. “Come on. I know how to read people—and I know exactly what that face was. You’re fucking into someone. Who is it?”