He was asking. What did I have to lose in telling him? The last shred of my dignity? Pretty sure that had dissolved long ago.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep him in hockey long-term. His dad isn’t really contributing . . .”
Jack’s jaw ticked, his eyes darkening and moving somewhere between my neck and my collarbone. “Like child support?”
I nodded.
“No offense, but that guy’s a jackass.”
I had to laugh at that. “I’m well aware now.”
“That’s the way it goes, eh? You don’t know it’s not going to work out till it doesn’t.”
I swallowed, Hazel starting to mess with the bottom of my shirt. “Do you mind?” I asked, unsnapping my bra cup.
It took a second for Jack to register what I meant. “Oh. Oh, shoot. Yeah, of course. Should I?” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “She’s a pro. You won’t see more than a little stomach. But leave if that’s more comfortable.”
Jack shook his head. “Nah, it’s good. You’re just feeding your kid.”
A beat of silence fell between us as his focus went back to the other three kids playing.
“I remember you, by the way,” I said. “When you taped Aspen’s socks.”
Jack pushed out his lips, then ran his tongue over his teeth. “Your ex was really showing his ass, wasn’t he?”
I gave a morose laugh. “Yeah. I don’t miss that. I’d rather be broke than with him.”
I let it spill out, then immediately felt I should backpedal. “I mean, not that I’mbrokebroke. We pay our bills. Just, it was easier with two incomes.”
Jack nodded, and maybe he sensed how uncomfortable I was because he changed the subject. “Her first steps, though, right?”
I brushed Hazel’s hair back where she was cradled in my arms. “First steps for our big girl!”
“So big, Hazel.” Jack twisted his lips and quickly caught the ball as it bounced into our space. “What did I say about the ball around the baby?”
“Sorry!” Jace yelled.
“You hungry?” Jack asked me. I was fascinated by his generally unaffected air, with little bursts of bigger emotions: scolding the kids, praising Hazel, and congratulating Aspen on his goal. Fascinated is a gentle word—Jack was hot. He was managing four kids, feeding them, didn’t get weird about me breastfeeding, and called my ex a jackass. What could be hotter than that?
And yet, it was all a fantasy. Jack was miles out of my league.
“Me? Hungry? Oh, no. I should probably get these kids home and fed and give them baths?—”
“They ate.” His brow furrowed, his tongue poking out to lick the corner of his lips. “Work go okay?”
I flicked my eyebrows up. “Oh. Yes. Thank you, again, so much for watching them. I could have taken Aspen with me?—”
“But you’d have had trouble picking up Hazel,” he stated.
“Yes. Probably.”
He nodded, his jaw feathering again. “Do you usually have to stay late at work?”
“Not usually,” I said. “Today was category reviews, so I had to meet with a bunch of vendors in the snack bar category.”
“That’s a foreign language to me. Where do you work?”
