Oh God…what is going on? Why is he looking at me like that? And why can’t I stop looking back?
Once again, Exton comes to my rescue, whining, “Are you planning to reveal the big mystery behind the huge box with a f—” He stops himself just as I hear a very low, warning growl sound from beside me.
I suck in a startled breath when I realize it came from Severin.
Maybe he doesn’t like cussing? Surely, it couldn’t have been just because of my son. But it was so quiet and soft, I’m not sure he intended for anyone else to hear it. It was almost involuntary.
By the looks of it, Exton heard it too. He clears his throat. “Fabulous bow on top?” he amends, twisting his face in hopes that Emett didn’t catch onto the real meaning, and it looks so adorable, I can’t help the small giggle that escapes me.
Severin’s eyes hone in on me immediately, trapping that giggle inside his gaze and stealing it. While the rest of the present eyes were now watching him with a new curious frown.
“Oh, um,” Severin shook his head, effectively breaking the staring contest. “This is for Electra. It’s a helmet. You know for when you decide to play hockey together again.”
I think the whole town already heard the story of Exton shooting pucks at my friend. Somehow, he thought the adrenaline rush of having to face that scary fast puck flying at her while she was manning the makeshift goal post on the ice in her wheelchair was supposed to work and she’d walk just like that.
Newsflash, it didn’t work. At least, not in the way he anticipated.
Electra smiles wide, but Exton’s scowl deepens.
“How considerate of you,” he states dryly.
“Are you also dating Miss Electra?” Emett suddenly speaks up. Addressing Severin, as his young gaze studies each of us, and I just know…I know he’s about to say something that will make me either wince or groan. “Because I think Mr. Axe already is, and if you’re not, can you date my mommy? You think she’s pretty, right?”
“Jesus Christ! Emett!” Yep, groan it is. Plus, a palm to the face as an added bonus because my son did not just try to set me up.
“What? I’m just looking for you,” Emett says, unfazed in the slightest as he butchers grown up phrases once again. “Everyone in the kindergarten would die.” Those big green eyes of his are about to pop from excitement.
With another long groan, I burrow my flaming face deeper into my glove-covered hands as Exton lets out a booming laugh.
Sure, laugh away. It’s not like I’m about to die of embarrassment over here. Nope, not at all.
“Kid, have I told you that you’re my favorite yet? When we have a son, I want him to be just like you.” He pats the top of Emett’s helmet and neither I nor Electra miss the “we” he inserted in there.
I drop my hands, looking completely unamused, and debating whether Exton wants me to sign my son over to him now or after the practice?
“Come on, champ, let’s go practice some more before you marry off your mom to some stranger.” Exton claps his shoulder and steers Emett away. But not before I catch the sadness in his little eyes.
And then as if it wasn’t enough already, yet another doze of heavy guilt gets pumped into my morning coffee.
I’m not giving my son what he needs. I’m not giving him the family he wants, so he decided to resort to finding it himself. What kind of a mother am I? Why can’t I just do things right in this life?
I sigh, rubbing my temples. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t mind my son, Mr. Minaev. He’s been out of it today. I think all the excitement from meeting Exton Quinn and now you has gotten to him,” I say apologetically, because this gorgeous hockey player with secrets in his eyes doesn’t deserve to get the short end of the stick due to my failures.
“There’s nothing wrong with him wanting to look out for his pretty mom.” Severin’s smooth voice washes over me but there’s an underlying sharpness to it.
It was quick. So quick that if I wasn’t looking, I’d miss the slight crack to his perfect mask. I knew there was more behind those eyes.
I knew it.
He peeks at me, tilting his head just slightly as he replaces that smile back on his face and a hard lump works itself down my throat, but I decide to help it a little since we don’t need these kinds of complications in my already overly complicated life and clearing my throat, I hope it does the same for my wondering mind.
The mind that has learned a long time ago that daydreaming and hoping and feeling were not in the cards for me.
Maybe I can get Emett a puppy, or a cat. Those are easier, right? Maybe a fish.
“More like looking out for himself, didn’t you hear him? Everyone is going to die in kindergarten.” I cluck my tongue, changing the subject. “Mind you, he doesn’t even go to kindergarten yet.”
“He’s thinking ahead, and I kinda like it.” Severin smiles. It’s small, barely a lift to his lips, but it hits me in all the places it shouldn’t. Because it’s real.
