“That’s what I keep telling her!” John gently nudges Jacob, but those warm brown eyes never leave my face. “She’s never going to make money if she keeps giving away the goods.”
“John, you act like I’m giving everybody free stuff. Is that the case, Michelle?”
“Nope,” Michelle calls out from the back room. “Only family.”
Something twists hard in my chest, and heat creeps up my cheeks. I look back at the two men who influenced my teenage years, finding sadness in Jacob’s eyes. The grip tightens, and I struggle to breathe.
“Are you ready to head to the arena?” John asks, looking at his phone. “Jake?”
He drags his gaze from mine and looks at my brother. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I have a few questions for Duncan before we get started.”
John looks pointedly at me. “I’ll meet you there. I have a few things to do before I head over.”
I stand still. Watching them as they head for the exit. John chattering excitedly and Jacob listening. The bells jingle as the door opens, but Jacob stops and turns back to me.
“It’s good to see you, Becs,” he says, his lopsided grin makes my heartbeat jump.
My mouth pulls up at the corner, and I dip my chin. As I watch them walk past the front window, Jacob looks back one last time, catching my eye. He gives me one of his toothy grins, and my knees nearly buckle.
What follows next is a gut punch as I think about how Caleb would’ve loved to have met J.T. ‘The Jet’ Thornton.
But Jacob was the only secret I kept from my husband.
Chapter Three
Jacob
Fogformsinfrontof me as I blow hot air onto my hands and rub them together before stuffing them in my pockets.
“Cold?” Duncan asks, a brow quirked, looking comfortable in a big winter jacket.
“I’m fine,” I say, shivering in a flannel. Duncan lets out a snort. “I forgot how cold it can be by the ice when you’re not moving.”
Duncan nods his head. “Do you miss it at all?”
The sharp, clean smell mixed with sweaty socks and old hockey bags brings back a slew of memories, and Duncan’s question has my gut knotting. “Sometimes.”
Pulling my hands out of my pockets, I rest my elbows on the rink wall and watch Steven. He has speed, fight, and courage, but his weak-side play is a liability, and his breakout route’s on a string—same curl every time. Players in the big league will take advantage of and exploit him if he doesn’t fix them now.
“Do you see what I mean? As a goalie, I don’t know how to help him, and the coaches have done their best, but it isn’t enough.”
Steven is finishing up the seven drills I put him through. Each one points out where his play is weak and what needs to be focused on.
“He’s good though.” You can tell that he loves the game, is a hard worker, and dedicated, but Duncan is right. These two areas need attention. “Gauntlet and Four-Dots will be the drills to focus on.”
Duncan blows the whistle before yelling. “That’s good for now. Take a break and grab some water.”
Steven nods and heads over to the other side of the ice, where his bag is. I watch as he lifts his hand, and a pretty girl with auburn hair rushes over to him. Whatever she says makes Steven throw his head back and laugh before glancing in our direction.
“Who’s that?” I jut my chin out toward the two of them. Just as Becca walks in and puts her arm around the girl, smiling at her son. My gut clenches just as my breath hitches.
I didn’t forget how stunning Becca is, but my memory left out a few details. Or maybe she’s just gotten more beautiful with age.
“That’s my niece Scarlett.” At that exact moment, Scarlett lifts her hand and waves at her uncle, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Hey Uncle Dunk—” I hear what sounds like a growl coming from him before she finishes loudly, “CAN.”
Her laughter rings throughout the arena, and I see Steven shaking his head as he chuckles with her.
