He’s not wrong.
“This is my Grandma Sabrina. She’s married to Coach Grandpa. With you as my new mom and Uncle Lane as my new dad, we have a uniquely blended family,” Kai adds as if he did some internet research and maybe didn’t quite grasp all the concepts entirely.
Wearing a warm smile with a hint ofDon’t kids say the darndest things?Grandma Sabrina extends her hand. “Sabrina Sheridan. You must be Nina. You’re almost famous and we’ve been hearing all about you and Lane Junior.”
“Almost famous might be overstating it,” I say, shaking her hand.
“Nonsense. That New Year’s Eve video has been viewed millions of times. You’re absolutely famous and fabulous. Your dress was gorgeous. Though I have to say, you’re even prettier in person.” Her eyes twinkle with both amusement and sincerity.
“Thank you,” I say, trying to smile.
She leans in. “And I’ve never seen Lane Junior smile like that. Not even at Xoe. You two must have something special.”
Xoe? The fact that he and I haven’t talked about our past relationships beyond Lucian Little confirming we were both single, hits me like an ice dam falling off a roof.
Sabrina wrinkles her nose. “If you ask me, those two were the worst for each other. But Lane is lucky to have met you. I’m so happy and want to hear all about how you fell in love.”
Before I can respond, a tall man with silver hair and Lane’sintense green eyes approaches. Even if I didn’t recognize him from old hockey photos, the sheer weight of his presence would give him away. This is Lane Sheridan Senior, a hockey legend. When a man like him enters a room, you automatically know it.
“So you’re the girl who married my son,” he says. I can’t tell if I hear concern or challenge in his commanding tone.
Does he want me to skate laps to prove I’m worthy of a hockey family? Present my medical history and financial data? Prove my identity?
“I’m Nina Bruun.” I shake his hand and repeat, “And it’s ... complicated.”
He grunts dismissively, instantly reminding me of my father’s warnings. Not that he’s checking me out or anything like that. More like his perspective and priorities are a little off-center ice.
“I saw online that you have a bakery,” Kai says excitedly as if knowing there might be treats in his future.
I turn to tell him about it when Lane’s father interrupts. “And you’re having financial trouble. Have your eyes set on the wheel of fortune that comes along with success. Girls like you are a dime a dozen. You come along, take advantage of a professional athlete and?—”
Sabrina interrupts. “Coach.”
Even she calls him that?
Anger prickles up my spine at his comments. Is he accusing me of being opportunistic? Deceitful?
“You’re at work,” Sabrina adds.
“I’m just saying that we all know what this looks like.”
“You are out of line, sir,” I say straight to his face with surprising force.
Lane’s father’s eyes widen with surprise that I’d dare speak back to him. Like it’s an offense on par with arguing with a referee after they makea penalty call.
If you ask me, he’s the one who belongs in the sin bin.
“I don’t owe you an explanation, but none of that is true.” Well, except the struggling bakery part, but that’s certainly not why I went on the hypnotist’s stage against my will, I might add.
“Yeah, sure. That’s what they all say.”
This guy just tripped a wire I didn’t even realize was live with dynamite. Tipping my head to the side in question, I brazenly ask, “Including Suzie Bass?”
I expect the name to land, but it doesn’t. I’m not sure why I brought up my mother, but the man got under my skin and it’s thick from handling hot pans, so that’s not exactly an easy thing to do.
“Who’s Suzie Bass?” Sabrina asks.
I shake my head slightly, imagining it’ll eventually come into focus for Lane Sheridan Senior. “You’ll have to ask your husband.”
