Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Did you see that last block by your dad?” I ask Luna and Parker once the Sea Dogs W flashes on the scoreboard and their winning anthem blasts through the arena.
Parker snorts. “No. I’m not that into hockey.”
My eyes pop. “Blasphemy!”
His brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
Ooh, a chance for me to teach him. “It means you don’t agree with a particular religious belief.”
“But…this isn’t religion,” he says as we make our way out of the suite.
“Hockey is definitely a religion in your home,” I say.
He seems to give that some thought. “Yeah, maybe it is.”
Luna skips a few steps. “Hey, Sabrina, did you know that a Sea Dog is a nickname for a sea lion, which is more like a seal? Not like a dog at all,” she says, then plucks at the logo of a fierce-looking Husky-type dog on her Sea Dogs hoodie.
“Do you think we should let the team know?” I stage whisper.
Luna snickers. “Yes, but I don’t know if seals would be a good team logo.”
Parker scoffs. “Sounds like blasphemy to me,” he says as we reach the elevator that’ll take us to the authorized personnel area.
I spin toward him. “Yes, that is indeed blasphemy.”
A few minutes later, my stomach is flipping more than I want it to when Tyler emerges from the locker room and heads our way.
In his suit.
It should be illegal to look that good. The suit is forest green, the shirt is charcoal, the tie is absent. The top button is undone, and I can’t stop staring at that little patch of skin visible as the man strides toward us in all his towering glory, long legs eating up the concrete floor.
Stop staring. He’s your boss.
With more effort than it should take, I snap my gaze up from his throat—dear god, I’m staring at a man’s throat—but switching the view to his handsome face doesn’t help my cause. Because…that beard…those lips…his eyes.
And most of all, the way he smiles at his kids, warm and welcoming. “Hey, kiddos,” he says and holds out his arms.
Luna and Parker run, and as if they weigh nothing, he hoists them both up, one on each side. My throat tightens with unexpected emotion—a poignancy I didn’t anticipate as he says, “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah, even though sometimes hockey’s boring,” Parker says.
Tyler’s jaw drops in mock shock. “What did you say?”
Luna laughs. “It’s blasphemy, right?”
I hang back, letting them have their family moment, but Tyler keeps walking, stopping when he reaches me. “Well, as long as you had fun reading books and playing board games, that’s what matters,” he says to them.
And yup, emotions swim up my chest, higher. His kids are so lucky to have not just his support but his love. It’s pure and real. It’s not tied to attainment. It’s simply there…in the air, in his hugs, in his voice. It’s constant—a rudder.
He sets them down, cocks his head, and says, “Does anyone want Mabel’s cookies? I hear the Best Ice Cream Shop in the City is selling them now.”
“Yes!” Parker says.
Luna waves a hand. “I want them.”
“She’s a friend! They’re the best,” I say since I’ve been following my baker friend’s pop-up shops since she started selling her baked goods recently.
“Yeah, I hear she has great chocolate chip cookies,” he says. “They’re…scandalous.”
“Let’s go,” I say, but then as we’re walking to the players’ lot, a new worry digs into my chest. Does he just want to go with his kids? Sure, I brought them to the game, but it’s Tyler’s time with them now. I should let them have it. Even though the thought of not going twists my chest.
After they pile into the backseat of his car, he comes around to open the passenger door for me. “Tyler, you can drop me off at home if you want to have dessert just with the kids.”
He scoffs. “Are they one of your guilty pleasures?”
You are. “Yes.”
“Then let’s be scandalous.”
I slide into the passenger seat, and we head off to get dessert after the game.
The next few days go well enough.
I volunteer at the animal rescue, helping with animal intake, and sending thank-yous to donors. I shop for food again, wandering aisles filled with people buying groceries for the week. It’s mundane, but there’s a quiet, grounding rhythm to it. I join Trevyn on the occasional dog walk, and he tells me Tyler sent him hockey tickets, and he’ll be taking a date to the upcoming game. I’ll need to thank Tyler again for that, and for making my friend happy.
I pick the kids up from school—with my cardboard sign on the dash, thank you, Luna—though Elle takes them on the one day she works in the city. It happens to coincide with one of my skating lessons, so it suits me perfectly.
She keeps the kids overnight, but then she has to drop them off unexpectedly early the next morning, an hour before school. Tyler’s at the gym, so I answer the door. The kids rocket past me, and I turn to their mother. “Hi, Elle. How are you?”