Charlie nods. “Can I have some nuggets first?”
“It’s not quite time to eat. But I think everything will be ready soon.”
“She had some,” Charlie says, turning her gaze toward me.
My eyes widen even as Carter gives me a playful look. “Did she, now?”
“Just a small sample,” I say, though I have no idea why I have to justify myself to a six-year-old. Or a man I don’t know.
Carter’s lips lift into a small smile, those blue eyes flashing. “She must have been really hungry,” he says without breaking eye contact.
There is nothing even remotely flirty about his sentence, and yet, the low rumble of his words sends a skitter of goosebumps racing down my arms. He isn’t even talking directly to me—justaboutme. And my body is still reacting.
Then again, it’s been a very long time since I’ve been around a man this handsome. I could just be out of practice.
“She can absolutely have one,” I say, finallyfinding my voice. “There’s plenty. Anna asked me to pick them up for all the kids.”
Carter’s expression brightens. “Oh. You’re Sarah.”
My eyebrows lift. “Yes?”
“I was just talking to Miles about you moving to Atlanta.” He lifts his hand and points at his eyes. “And you and Miles have the same eyes. Seemed like a safe bet.”
I turn and lift the lid off the platter of chicken and motion to Charlie. “Is this okay? She doesn’t have any allergies?”
He quickly shakes his head. “She’s fine. Her dad won’t care.”
Charlie grabs a couple of chicken nuggets, and I replace the lid on the tray, then watch as she darts across the driveway toward the lawn with surprising speed, considering the cumbersome goalie pads.
“Charlie, your coat,” Carter calls.
“I don’t need it,” she yells back.
It isn’t exactly warm outside, not for January, and Charlie’s nose was already a little pink. But it’s not so cold that she’ll freeze without it.
Carter looks at me and shrugs. “She was born here, but she’s got Canadian blood. She probably thinks this feels like spring.”
“Ha. Yeah. I can relate.”
“Winnipeg, right?” Carter says. “How long have you been in the States? Did you come when Miles moved here?”
I remind myself that I’m Miles’s sister, and Miles is Carter’s teammate, so it makes sense he would know where we’re from. But it’s still disconcerting to have him know so much about me. Disconcerting—but not altogether unpleasant.
“No—I stayed in Canada until I was nineteen. Whichmeans it’s been…almost seven years? I came for art school. I did my undergrad, then my master’s and graduated last year.”
“Yeah, Miles told me,” Carter says. “I had a cousin who went to SCAD. Years ago, but she loved it.”
Suspicion pricks at the back of my mind. This is more than just knowing we’re from Winnipeg. Miles seems to have said a lot about me. Which is unusual. He’s usually pretty protective of me when it comes to his teammates.
“I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself,” Carter says, extending his hand. “I’m Carter Williamson.”
“Right. Uncle Carter,” I say, slipping my palm into his. His grip is strong and his hand is warm, making me suddenly aware of how cold mine has become.
“Not her real uncle,” he clarifies. “But Holly’s raising Charlie—Charlotte—on his own now, so we all pitch in.”
He says this like I should know Holly, so I just nod. “Right. So she’s got…twenty-two uncles?”
There’s a sadness behind his eyes that makes me wonder who Holly is and why he’s parenting alone. “Something like that,” Carter says. He tilts his head in the direction Charlie ran and holds up her coat. “I should…”
