Page 67 of The Big Puck

SPENCER

My jaw tightens so hard I can feel my teeth starting to crack. But I know I’m being an unreasonable ass, so I back up a step.

“He needs to focus on hockey.” It’s lame, but it’s all I have, the only thing I have a right to say as his coach. I’m not his dad. I’m not team management. And I have absolutely no say over what Lainey does with her personal life.

In theory, I should be thrilled that she’s…interested in someone else. If she takes up with Dumas, I’ll be rid of her, rid of the distraction of whatever our connection is about, because it’ll be reduced to what it was meant to be from the beginning—employer and employee, a professional relationship only.

She stares at me, her eyes sparking, telling me I need to do better than that or back the hell off. So I back off.

“I am focused on hockey, Coach.” Dumas swallows hard. “We were just…having a moment,” Sabien says.

Lainey snorts. “A very short-lived moment.” Then she walks away.

The look Dumas gives me is more thoughtful than pissed. I nod and walk in the opposite direction of Lainey.

As if I can avoid her. I laugh at myself as I leave the celebration in a futile attempt to avoid her because we’re both going to end up at the same place at the end of the night, aren’t we?

I have no right to be jealous of Sabien Dumas. He’s exactly the kind of guy she should be flirting with—young, up-and-coming, full of himself. She’d knock him down a peg. They’d be good for each other. And if it’s not him, it’ll be some other asshole who captures her attention. These are my thoughts as I make my way to my car because I can’t stand another minute watching her, watching the way every man with a pulse looks at her, watching her aim all that sunshine in everyone’s direction but mine.

* * *

There’s no way I’ll let Lainey move my Aunt into the house without helping, even if it means I take the morning off. Coach Kap is only too happy to cover the morning skate and is perfectly capable.

“You’re sure you can afford to miss—”

“I’m positive.” I attempt to soften my scowl, but I hate to be disingenuous, especially with Lainey even if my scowl has nothing to do with missing the morning skate and everything to do with the image of her kissing Sabien. Or, to be fair, Sabien kissing her. Small consolation.

She leans against the counter, sipping her coffee on the opposite side of the kitchen from me. I hold Krissy because it’s a rare opportunity. The baby is good for me because I feel calmer with her in my arms, centered. She’s my purpose and a helluva motivation to take the team as far as they can go. Maybe far enough to get me a contract extension.

“Before we go pick up Aunt Hildie…” she says, her bright face clouding up slightly, enough to make me stiffen—and I don’t mean my dick. She pauses.

“What?” Alarm shows up in my voice which makes me scowl before I can control it.

“I know she’s not quite ready to take over care of Krissy, but—”

“No buts.” I don’t know where she’s going with this, but the vice tightens on the muscles between my shoulder blades. The pain hasn’t been so intense since the last time I saw my father.

Lainey is not Alan Logan. Not even close. I relax while she watches me with a mix of curiosity and her usual hopeful smile, so brilliant she could start a movement or a church if she wanted if she possessed a molecule of corrupt ambition. But she doesn’t.

She reserves her penchant for spreading rainbows to babies, children, and anyone else lucky enough to get caught up in her orbit. Such as me, the unlucky bastard who can’t fully appreciate her. Ever. I’ll never be able to afford her price.

“I only wanted to say that even though Aunt Hildie is insisting that I stay until the end of the season, I don’t want to hold you to that.”

My scowl deepens. “You’d leave? Knowing that Aunt Hildie is counting on you, and Krissy—” Her face falls, and I can’t continue my selfish attempt at emotional blackmail.

“No, no. I was only thinking of you.”

I scoff. “Then you’ll stay until the end of the season as planned.” I pick up my mug of coffee to hide the smile I can’t seem to squelch because she sees through my faulty logic, squinting at me as she plants her hands on her hips.

“I get it,” she says. If she really does get it—get me—then I’m in deep trouble.

“Let’s go.” I sit Krissy in her lounge chair and pull on her coat and hat, wondering if she needs mittens though it’s no colder than fifty degrees outside.

“She’s fine,” Lainey says from close behind me, reading my mind. Her presence smothers me in warmth and some indefinable quality I’m coming to think of as her rainbow effect, a ridiculous yet inescapable feeling. I open the back door and escape to the refreshing air outside, leaving Krissy to her capable hands.

* * *

It’s going to take more than one morning to get Aunt Hildie settled in my house. After we picked her up and stuffed as many boxes and bags and personal items that would fit in the back of the Jeep, I made two more trips to her house and came back on my own.