“I’ll be right here,” Tyler echoed, planting a soft kiss on Rowan’s forehead.
He watched, emotions tangling in his chest, as Rowan walkedhesitantly over to where the other kids were setting up an elaborate, interconnected track. Henri handed him a curved piece, and, with Bunny in one hand and the track in the other, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
Leaning back in his chair, Tyler let out a relieved sigh.
“You okay?” Layla asked from across the table.
Tyler nodded, reaching up to run his hands through his hair. “This is his first time doing something like this. Playing with other kids in their house. It’s…it’s amazing.”
Her smile was kind. “We’ll have to do this more often, then.” She reached out to Mitch, who sat beside her, interlacing their fingers and sharing a smile.
Jamie shifted in the chair next to him, bracing his furry forearms on the table and leaning toward the other couple. “Is there dessert for the grownups?” He whispered.
Layla laughed, nodding toward the kitchen. “Top shelf of the pantry.”
A gleeful grin split across Jamie’s face, giving Tyler a glimpse of the missing molar near the back of his mouth. He turned to Tyler. “Want something sweet?”
Tyler shook his head, unable to hide his amusement.
Jamie returned a moment later with his cheeks bulging, that same innocent joy still making his green eyes dance.
“So,” Mitch said, leveling a look across the table. “You settled in with Dotty and Sandra?”
“Yeah. They’ve been great.”
“They’re the best,” Layla said, taking a sip of her white wine. “Even if they constantly badger Sully about giving them grandkids.” She shot Jamie an apologetic smile across the table. “I’m all for having kids if you want them, but getting nagged about it all the time really does get old.”
Tyler looked at Jamie in time to see him shrug, still chewing a mouthful of something.
“So this hockey thing,” Tyler started. “It’s a big deal here?”
Layla burst out laughing. Mitch buried his face in his hands. Jamie’s brows shot up.
“You’re my new favorite person,” Layla said, still laughing. “See, Sully? Not everyone in this town cares that you broke your hand starting a fight you had no chance of winning.”
“So, I take it you don’t follow professional hockey?” Mitch asked.
“Nah,” Tyler said. “I knew people who played back in Vermont, but I’ve never really been into sports.”
Mitch nodded in understanding. “Well, the team here is a pretty big deal. We won the Cup six years ago.”
“The cup?”
Jamie let out a sound like a wounded animal. “He doesn’t know what the Cup is!”
“What?” Tyler started laughing too, unable to help himself when Layla’s bright, loud laughs filled the air around them.
“The Cup isthetrophy in hockey. It’s the ultimate prize for the best team in the professional league.” Mitch explained. “Wait, but now I’m confused. Why did you make a snowman wearing one of his jerseys, then?”
Tyler frowned, thinking back to the night he’d first met Jamie. He remembered the brightly-colored sports jersey they’d put on the snowman.Oh no. “That was yours?” He turned to Jamie.
Jamie’s cheeks were pink. “Yep. That’s me. Sullivan, number three, worst captain in Muskies history.”
Mitch and Layla both jumped in to protest, reassuring Jamie that he was just adjusting, that his play wasn’t that bad. Tyler barely listened to them, instead watching Jamie’s face.
He could almost see the burden of responsibility heavy on his broad, slumped shoulders. If the pained pinch of his blonde brows and the soft frown on his face were any indication of what the man was thinking, it looked like this weighed on him.
Maybe the anger Tyler had so quickly brushed off as a drunk stranger losing control was actually pain and disappointment directed at himself.
