Collins shrugs. “This morning. Ezra sends his apologies that he couldn’t be here. Motocross championships just started back up, and he needs to be in Michigan.”
Taking Billie’s coat, I hang it on the stand by the door, pausing to absorb everyone who has shown up tonight to celebrate my wife’s promotion. Literally all of our friends.
“Dad, can you tell Hunter to stop being an idiot?”
With dark brown hair in a messy bun, Blake stands in front of me, hands propped on her hips in a petulant teenager pose.
“What’s he done this time?”
She steps to one side, and my eight-year-old son, Hunter, comes into view, balancing on his tiptoes at the high bar as he drops a scoop of vanilla ice cream into a glass of Coke.
It fizzes everywhere, and Blake rolls her eyes in his direction. “Why did you have to have another child?”
Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pull my daughter into me, setting a soft kiss on top of her head. “Because you were so damn perfect, we thought that we’d try our luck again.”
My heart melts when she takes my pointer finger in her palm and squeezes it—her little way of expressing love. The truth is, I love her more than words could ever do justice and definitely enough to make up for the absence of her biological dad who signed his parental rights away before he dropped off the face of the planet. Tucker Price never changed his selfish ways, and his career in law didn’t work out either. Legally adopting Blake nineyears ago was the single easiest decision I ever made, alongside marrying her mom the following year.
“How did the meeting with my boy Jessie go?” Jensen taps me on the shoulder.
I release Blake, watching her stalk straight toward Hunter, arms out in front of her as she points at the mess he’s making.
“Postponed until tomorrow. He had something he needed to sort out for one of his girls.”
Jensen nods in understanding, swiping a hand across his mouth. “Probably to do with Drew. I heard that she’s switching her college degree to public relations at the final minute.”
I nod once and watch on as Billie hugs Tommy and Jenna and their ten-year-old son, Milo.
A hand cups my ear from behind. “You know you shouldn’t be exchanging niceties with the opposition, right?” Archer whispers as he sidles up next to me, Jack and Sawyer quickly following behind.
Arms folded across his chest, Jensen rolls his eyes. “What opposition? Everyone knows that expansion teams take years to get a foothold in the league.” He chuckles under his breath as he looks at me. “And we both know that Jessie and our boy Emmett here are going to have their work cut out for them.”
Jack sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re a brave guy, Emmett. That first season for the Seattle Rogues was … let’s just say, I could see Jessie growing grayer by the minute.”
He’s not wrong. I must be fucking crazy, but I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to further my coaching career, even if it’s as an assistant coach for the NHL’s newest and most brutal team.
I look around at all the guys as Jon starts leaving the kitchen with dishes of food, and Billie motions for us to come and join them around the table.
Throwing her a quick wink, I turn back to the guys standing around me, a mischievous smile pulling at my lips as I center my attention back on the Blades’ goalie coach.
“I guess there’s only one benefit to finishing last in the league …” I trail off.
Jensen shakes his head at me, well aware of what’s coming, even if he’s repeatedly refused to acknowledge the real possibility of where his insanely talented son could wind up playing pro hockey. Speculation has been bouncing around in the press ahead of the draft tomorrow night, and everyone’s convinced of our first choice. I guess there’s no harm in me revealing our selection a little early between close friends.
“Don’t you even dare,” Jensen warns, dark eyes ablaze as he cracks his neck to one side.
I shrug, and Jack leans in closer as Archer rubs his hands together with glee.
“William Jones,” I breathe quietly, a hint of victory permeating my voice, “on behalf of the Seattle Rogues, we want to extend a very warm—and early—welcome to this year’s first-round draft pick.”
