“Um, I meant to tell you—I’ve got your seat reserved for all our home games,” he says softly. “Two seats—for you and whoever you want to bring.”
“I’m expected to attend your games? Starting this week?” I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. But this particular week on the calendar is a difficult time for me. Still, I don’t want to tell Declan that.
He chuckles. “I’m used to women begging me for tickets, not turning them down when I offer.”
Super.
I grit my teeth. “I’ll take the tickets. Thanks for the offer.”
“Of course. And you’ll want to arrive before the puck is dropped. Preferably before the anthem. The press will be looking for you. Therefore, so will the board.”
Right, the board. The only reason Declan would want me at his games.
“You don’t have to come until you’re ready,” he says. “I know it’s a lot of attention that you’re not used to.”
“Maybe next week?” I say.
“Sure. We have a long stretch of home games coming up.”
Yay! That means he’ll be around more.
“I’ll set an alarm so I’ll arrive on time,” I say. “I do tend to get engrossed in work, but I’ll bring Jamie Beth. She’s very punctual.”
As we reach the main house, we find Luke standing out on the back porch. He waves.
“How’d the gloves work out?” he asks me as we reach him.
“What gloves?” Declan says in that same sharp tone he used a few minutes earlier.
I enjoy hearing him knocked off, and I focus on Luke when I respond. “They worked great. Thanks for lending them to me.”
“Any time.” Luke winks at me like he and I are in on a private joke. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to get under Declan’s skin on purpose.
Then again, maybe that’s exactly what he’s doing.
Declan’s dark eyes fix on his cousin like he may deck him. “Did Chase get stuck with the cooking tonight?”
“He did.” Luke tilts his head toward me. “Mia hasn’t complained yet about our meals. Of course, she pitches in, too. You married a good cook, Dec.”
Declan’s mouth twists into an irritated frown. “Lay off, Luke.”
“What?” Luke holds up his hands. “I’m just paying your wife a compliment. You don’t have to get all pissy.”
“I’m not fucking pissy.” Declan takes my hand and leads me past Luke. “We’ll see you inside.”
We’ve just stepped into the living room when Cooper looks up from the couch. He jumps up and throws his arm around my shoulders.
“Mia! Can you help Chase with the potatoes? He can’t cook them for shit.”
I take off my coat and lay it on the back of the couch. “Of course.”
“What kind of potatoes do you make?” Declan asks me.
“Just mashed,” I say. “Nothing special.”
“They taste so damn good, though.” Cooper’s blue eyes brighten. “It’s her mom’s recipe. Right, Mee?”
* * *
