This is the one time I draw the line on my worrying.
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, motioning to the machines. “We can leave it on top of the machine. He’ll come back for it if he needs it.”
“Mom, if we leave it here, someone might take it.” Her tone is extra curt, mirroring the one I give her when she isn’t listening. “Rigsby goes to my school. I can literally take it to him.”
“Fine,” I murmur, taking the glove from her with a straight elbow as if I’m afraid to touch it. That guy was annoying. He doesn’t deserve a favor, but I am a role model. And maybe I did use the machine hethoughthe saved.
“You should message Rigsby’s mom on Facebook so she knows.” She hands my phone to me, screen side up.
My brows bead together as I now worry about her worrying too much. She’s right though. It’s a small town, and I’ve seen that mom in the drop-off lane at school many times. I know what she looks like. I think her first name is Jackie. “I mean, I guess I can.” I take my phone and open Facebook. “Did you say his last name is Kane?”
“Yeah.”
I quickly search for people with that name in Mapleton, and just my luck—I find a woman whose profile picture shows a kid who looks like Rigsby. I impatiently type.
Me: Hey, Jackie. You don’t know me, but our kids go to school together. I saw Rigsby at the laundromat tonight, and the man he was with left a hockey glove. Not sure if it’s important, but I have it if he needs it.
“Let’s go home.” I’m about to slip my phone into my coat pocket when a vibration stops me.
Jackie: Yes, that would be my brother, Jackson. He’s watching Rigsby for the night. I’ll let him know you have it.
Me: I’ll bring it to school tomorrow.
I pause, making sure our conversation is over. When I get no more notifications, I set my gaze back on Bella. “Alright, sweetie, we can finally go home.”
four
Jackson
Shaking my head, I look down at my phone. Apparently, I didn’t hear my alarm go off, because it’s twenty minutes past the time I set it for. This is not a good way to start the day. I drop my feet to the ground, grab a Granite Ice hoodie from my closet, and throw it over my head. Of all the days to oversleep, why must it be when I have Rigsby? I hurry from my room and go straight to the couch.
“Rigsby,” I say softly. He doesn’t even twitch, so I repeat it a bit louder: “Rigsby, get up.” He’s flat on his back, one hand above his head, his slobbery bottom lip hanging open like he’s sacked out after a long night of partying. To be fair, I didn’t get him to bed at the time I was told to. I ignored Jackie’s warnings about how tough mornings are when he doesn’t sleep. I didn’t think his ears wouldn’t work.
With my phone in one hand, I reread the text I got last night.
Jackie: Apparently some girl from Rigsby’s class found your hockey glove at the laundromat. She saidshe’ll bring it to school in the morning if you want to look for her. She messaged me on Facebook about it. The mom's name is Kaci.
My throat had cinched tight.
That’s my lucky glove!
I didn’t know I had lost it. After reading the text, I ran to my bag and dumped it out. The glove wasn’t there, and my heart slammed against my chest—where it’s stayed ever since. If I hadn’t already been warned that it was gone, I might have had a heart attack. I’m so lucky to know where it is.
If I had my way, I would have gone last night when I got the text, but it was late, and Jackie never gave me a number to reach out to the girl or her parents. I also didn’t want to bother Jackie on her last night before the baby arrives.
Besides, I know who has the glove. It’s the girl with the woman who stole my machine.
I cringe when I think about that interaction. I was confused about my machine, and acting out of character, but something happened when I focused on that woman. She was a sonic boom to my brain, an unexpected beauty, with fair skin and trim body, except for her hips, which were full in my favorite way. I don’t normally go looking for women, as I’m enjoying my bachelor era. She was definitely a reminder that just because I’m enjoying being single doesn’t mean I can’t admire beauty.
Until she opened her mouth.
No, there was nothing wrong with her voice, but the only sparks that flew were the ones that were hot off her attitude. Shaking my head, I mumble, “Yep, I’m fine admiring from a distance and not engaging.”
My gaze flicks to the clock on my phone. I have no idea what time she will drop off her kid. I don’t want to risk missing them. We need to leave early. According to Bill, tomorrow is thebiggest game of the season. We can’t lose to Arctic Force.I need that glove.
I urgently tap Rigsby’s shoulder. “Hey, you’ve got to get up for school.” His hand slides down until it covers his ear, more than likely to tune me out, and he rolls over to his side facing away from me.
This isn’t working. I roll back my tight shoulders as I can’t stop thinking about my glove. I can’t be late and miss it. Tension pools in the front of my head.
