A cool breeze rustled the leaves, reminding him summer was ending soon.
Training camp would be starting, followed by the preseason. Then, the craziness of an eighty-two-game run to April. If all went well, he wouldn’t catch his breath until June.
The sale of his condo in Chicago had closed a few days ago. Maggie had arranged for his things to be packed, so they were ready to ship when he had the new house. The purchase of the Victorian was progressing smoothly, and he was excited about moving in.
The only downside was that once it was done, he’d lose his excuse to see Maggie regularly. That bothered him a lot more than he’d expected.
Emily’s cheer broke into his thoughts.
Ike gave Maggie’s daughter an exaggerated glare as he dug the red ball out of his net.
“She shoots, she scores!” His dad whooped.
Maggie clapped. “Great goal.”
“She’s got a good eye,” he said as Emily tried a fancy move, narrowly missing.
“Em didn’t get that from me. I’m hopeless at sports.”
He seized the chance to find out more about her past. “What about her father?”
Maggie sighed. “Lee plays football—soccer—in the English Premier League.”
Her ex was a professional athlete? Jake swore silently. No wonder she was so wary about him. What were the odds the ex had a reputation like Jake’s? If the ex was responsible for the baggage that Maggie and Emily carried with them, that put a nasty spin on the situation, too.
“I win.” Emily cheered and did a victory dance.
“I bet she’d be hell on skates.” Jake smiled at Maggie. “She’s got great natural balance.”
“You’re right. We went to the rink a few times back home and she picked it up easily.”
The pride in her voice gave him an idea. “You should sign her up for a Mini Mites hockey team.”
“But she’s a girl.” She frowned.
“Girls play hockey, too. At her age, there’s no contact.”
“Emily’s too young.”
Jake ignored her cool tone. Once she understood what fun her daughter would have, she’d be fine. “My dad had me skating at five. The same youth hockey program is still going. The people involved are good. I could get you the details.”
“I really don’t think it’s appropriate for Emily.”
As sexy as he found her clipped accent, he knew rejection when he heard it. She wasn’t even prepared to listen to him. Frustration churned inside. He’d never recommend anything that would be dangerous for a kid.
Determined not to let her dismiss the idea, he pressed on. “I get why you’re nervous, but you can’t wrap her in cotton wool forever.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a tactical error.
Maggie stiffened, her expression as cold and brittle as game-worn ice. “I’m her mother. I know what’s best for her.”
“But...”
“I said no.” Her words echoed around the yard.
As the others turned to look at them, she said quietly, “Drop it, please.”
“Is everything all right?” Tracy joined them.
“Fine.” He couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. “A difference of opinion.”
Maggie leaped to her feet. “You must be tiring, sis. I’ll get Emily and we can go.”
Before he could restore the earlier warmth between them, they were leaving. Emily hugged him, but Maggie kept her distance.
Jake stood on the front porch and watched until the car disappeared.
Way to go. How come with Maggie he always seemed to have his head up his ass?
He ran his hand over the tense cords at the back of his neck. He should stick to hockey. The puck didn’t care what kind of man he was. On the ice, the rules were simple.
He walked into the house. Laughter came from the kitchen as the party moved inside. In no mood to join them, he headed upstairs to his room and flopped onto the bed.
Though he hadn’t grown up here, his parents had wanted him to feel at home, so they’d filled the shelves with his awards and put up the life-size picture of the Stanley Cup he’d always had pinned to the wall.
As he did every time he stared at the iconic trophy, he visualized the moment when he’d finally get to lift it over his head. He could almost hear the roar of the crowd, taste the salty tang of sweat, feel the itchy play-off beard and the ache of a body worked beyond its limit.
This year, there would be no soul-destroying loss. He’d do whatever it took to make damn sure he gave Adam that shared moment of glory. It wouldn’t make up for Jake’s mistakes the night of the accident. Nor would it make up for all the times he’d ducked Adam, putting his frustration at his friend’s erratic play and temperamental behavior ahead of helping a troubled man.