Warmth blooms through my chest as I watch all of my boys—
Wait! Where did that thought come from? Jacob isn’t one of my boys.
But you want him to be…
My step falters as I mentally stumble over where my thoughts just went, and a vice grips my chest as an image of Caleb and the boys sitting like that in the past flashes through my head.
Watching them, I see the past and the present, and my breath catches, but I’m not sure if it’s because of the man missing from the table or the one who’s somehow come back into my life.
Jacob looks up, and his gaze finds mine. My pulse jumps, and my stomach sinks. When his dark brown eyes fill with an affection I haven’t seen in decades, there’s a part of me that melts.
The other part of me falls.
Butterflies swarm as I situate myself in the chair at the end of the table; my throat is dry, and my heart is banging against my rib cage. “Is pizza with pineapple, black olives, and jalapenos on the menu tonight?”
“Ewwww, no!” Steven gags. “The only fruit I want on my pizza is tomato.”
“Pineapple is actually pretty good,” Miles says, staring at the menu like he doesn’t know exactly what Moretti’s serves.
All eyes turn to him in shock and disgust, except the ones belonging to the man at the end of the table. His eyes are filled with a speck of excitement.
“That’s what I told your mom.”
“Well, I won’t be eating that again,” Miles mumbles, Steven and I snort, and Jacob’s eyes dim.
“J.T., Mom tells us she had a crush on you when you were kids,” Wyatt says, like he just announced today was Tuesday.
My brows shoot up, and I see Jacob’s Adam’s apple bob. Steven is looking around the table, trying to figure out what he missed. Guess Wyatt didn’t fill him in on their car ride here.
“Was it one-sided?”
Chapter Eleven
Jacob
Takingaswigofmy drink, I wish it were something stronger. The last time I felt this exposed was when I announced I’d be retiring. Setting my glass on the table, my eyes lift to the woman across from me, and I pin her with my gaze. “No, it wasn’t. There was only one thing I loved as much as hockey back then, and it was your mom.”
Becca’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. She turns her gaze to the menu in her hand, avoiding meeting mine, or any of her sons’, eyes.
Looking over at Wyatt, I see his jaw is slightly hinged. He snaps it shut and gives me the slightest nod, and the vice gripping my chest eases a smidge.
“Were you a player on and off the ice?” Miles’ questions next, his voice clipped. I consider what he said and look him square in the eye when his glittering gaze catches mine. I gulp, against the sudden dryness in my throat. This young man is on a mission, and I’m the assignment.
“Not really.” I hold his stare as I respond, knowing that any sign of hesitancy is going to make him and Wyatt more suspicious. If I want any chance with Becs, I have to get through her boys first. “It took me a few years to settle in when I made it to The Show. A couple of times, I thought I was getting bumped.”
Some of the hardness leaves Miles’ expression, and I hear Becca gasp from the other end of the table.
“I didn’t know.”
“No one did.” I shrug, wrapping my hand around the cup in front of me, pulling my gaze from Becca’s surprised one, and glancing down. “I didn’t even tell John.”
Taking another sip, I work to get rid of the cotton that’s making a home in my throat. I haven’t ever said the words I’m about to say out loud before, and yet it feels like the right time.
Gripping the glass so tight I’m afraid it might break, I finally speak. “I lost my mom less than a year before I was drafted. My dad didn’t take it very well and wasn’t there to support me. The family I relied on while in Maple Ridge was your mom and your uncle, but I didn’t want them to know how hard it was for me being out on my own. Anytime John called, I told him everything was great.”
Lifting my eyes up, I glance around the table, stopping to look directly at Steven, Wyatt, and Miles. Steven stares back at me with understanding. It all makes sense why I’m here. Wyatt’s gaze is conflicted, and Miles’ expression is guarded.
“I was doing what I needed to do to keep my spot, but I had to really work for it.”
