With the official list of that year’s team players posted and individual letters sent home to the parents, there was nothing Abigail could do other than embrace her daughter’s new extracurricular activity with all the enthusiasm and support she could muster.
Yet staring at the price tag for the new hockey skates made her wince. Hockey was an expensive sport, one that wouldn’t have been a big deal a year ago. Now as she was struggling to build a new life for them without Dean’s support, the idea of spending three hundred dollars on hockey skates that would only last one season, if they were lucky, made her ill.
Up until that week, she’d never worked, focusing instead on raising Dani and working on the Dreams for Life charity. Dean’s income had been more than sufficient in providing everything they’d needed. With his eight-year contract with the L.A. Kings, he’d been guaranteed stability and over $24 million for the term. Three million dollars a year should have been enough for them to never worry about money in their lifetime, but between the $2 million home in L.A. and Dean’s car collection and other expensive hobbies, they’d barely put anything away. The following year, his contract would be up and he would be a free agent. She wondered what his plan was then.
She shook the thought away. It wouldn’t be her problem anymore.
“Do you need help with anything?” a store clerk at Rolling’s Sports asked, as he surveyed the stack of required hockey gear she’d collected so far.
“I think I found everything okay,” she said, reaching for the items. One way or another, Dani needed this stuff. Practices started that Friday after school.
At the counter, she averted her eyes as the tally added up.
“Five hundred and eighty-six dollars please,” the clerk said, admiring the elbow guards. “These are fantastic. I just bought a set and they are so much better than the other brands.”
They better be. At seventy dollars more, she hoped they would protect her little girl from damaged joints. She bit her lip. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Dani playing hockey—she was so little, and the teams were co-ed. Surely the bigger, stronger boys weren’t a fair match-up.
“Five hundred and eighty-six,” the young kid repeated.
“Oh, right, sorry,” she said, opening her wallet and retrieving her credit card. Dean’s credit card.
The clerk swiped it and frowned a second later. “It says declined. Should I try again?”
She nodded, her stomach twisting. “Yes, please.”
“Nope, sorry. Still declined,” he said a second later.
Shit. Her ex had just taken douchebag to a whole new level. Reaching into her wallet, Abigail handed him her debit card instead. Please, God, let there be enough money in there. She’d never worried about it before. Dean would always transfer money into her account for her and Dani every month, and they’d lived worry-free, knowing there was always money there. The credit cards were different; they were in his name only, and she just had a card to access funds as needed—or used to have a card.
She punched in her account PIN and held her breath until the APPROVED notification appeared on the screen. Thank God.
“Receipt with you or in the bag?” the clerk asked.
“In the bag is fine,” she said, accepting the heavy oversized bag. “Thank you.”
As she left the store, she reached into her purse for her cell phone, her hand shaking as she hit dial on her ex’s number. He’d never answer when he saw her number on his phone, but she had a fully prepared earful to give his voicemail. If he thought he could just walk away with no responsibility to her and Dani, he was dead wrong.
“Hello?” Dean’s gruff, unfriendly voice caught her by surprise, and she almost hung up.
“You canceled my credit card.”
“It’s my credit card, and yes, my lawyer suggested that I should,” he said tightly.
“So, how am I supposed to support our daughter while you continue to drag out this divorce settlement?” She lowered her voice as a family walked past her into the store.
“Get a job maybe,” was his cool reply.
“I have one. Teaching,” she said, switching the phone to the other ear and changing hands for the heavy bag. The position wasn’t a definite thing yet, but he didn’t need to know that.
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is I don’t appreciate having my cards declined in the middle of a store.”
“You’re lucky the debit card still works,” he said, and she could hear the sound of music and clanging dishes in the background. No doubt he was enjoying lunch on a beautiful patio somewhere overlooking the ocean.
God, she missed L.A., she thought as a cool breeze rustled the leaves on the sidewalk at her feet.
“Look, please just sign the divorce settlement papers and let’s get this over with.” Olivia Davis had told her over and over again she was asking for far too little in the settlement given the circumstances, but she didn’t care. She just wanted out.
“I’m not signing anything until we can reach a better agreement.”
Her anger rose. She couldn’t believe the thing they were still fighting over was money. As relieved as she was about not having a custody battle to deal with, she couldn’t not address the issue of the visitation schedule. “Olivia told me you’re not signing the visitation arrangement. I can’t believe you don’t want to commit to time with Dani.” She still hadn’t told their little girl, and she was dreading the conversation. In the last few days things had started to get better between them, and she feared Dani would think this was her fault.
“Don’t make me out to be some monster. You know I can’t commit when I have no idea where I will be next year.” As a free agent, he could get drafted to a different team. “Between regular season, playoffs, and summer training…”
“Yes, I know all about the schedule.” She’d planned their lives around it for too many years. She reached her vehicle and rested the phone against her shoulder as she opened the back door and tossed the bag inside.
“Besides, have you even asked Dani what she wants, or is this all about you? Your way of forcing me to be more involved.”
Her mouth fell and she stood frozen. Forcing him to be more involved? Was he kidding? If she had things her way, she’d never have to deal with him again. Unfortunately they had a daughter together, and what was best for Dani was her priority. Her chest tightened. She’d been the primary caregiver since the day she was born, but Dani adored her father and cherished the little time they did spend together. “Dani would be crushed if she knew you didn’t sign the arrangement. Despite everything, she’s still your daughter.”
“Listen, I don’t have time for the guilt trip. I have to go. If Dani needs something, tell her to call me and I’ll send the money directly to her. I don’t feel comfortable discussing all of this with you. That’s why we’re paying lawyers.”
That’s what their relationship had been reduced to—arguing through strangers. Despite the nasty circumstances surrounding the divorce, it saddened her to realize how quickly things could change from enduring love and commitment to bitter anger and hostility.
Abigail swallowed hard, her pride making her regret calling him in the first place. She would have to get used to that never being an option. “She’s fine. We are fine,” she said before disconnecting the call.
As she climbed into the SUV, she debated calling her lawyer. Unfortunately, her gut told her Dean had every right to cancel the credit cards, and she’d be smart to set up a new bank account in her own name here in Glenwood Falls as soon as possible as well. She was no longer tied to her ex emotionally, and she needed to sever all financial ties as well as soon as possible.
She checked her watch. It was almost six thirty. The fundraising committee meeting at the school started in half an hour, and now more than ever she needed to make a great impression on Principal Breen. Money may have been something she hadn’t stressed over in the past, but she suspected that was about to change—at least temporarily—and she needed to start taking control of this other aspect of her life.
* * *
The last thing Jackson needed to finalize for that year’s team was the new Glenwood Falls Lightning jerseys. The school provided funding for them from the previous season’s fundraising efforts once the team was announced. So walking into the school office to put in the request should have been easy. Instead, he found himself hesitating at the door. Abby had been appointed the new head of the school’s fundraising efforts the evening before, his sister had informed him. She’d also informed him of how good she thought Abby looked.
“Amazing body for a woman who’s had a child, and not a gray hair or wrinkle to be seen. I should have married a hockey player and not an Air Force pilot who’s gone all the freaking time,” she’d said, arriving home after the school meeting. He’d been hanging out with Taylor and trying to help out by folding the heaps of laundry on the sofa.
He knew not to take her comments about Neil seriously. He’d never seen two people more in love than his sister and her new husband. But her comments about Abby had been spot-on. She hadn’t aged a day since she’d left Glenwood Falls nine years ago, and it would have made his life a whole lot easier had she had the decency to look a little less perfect.
Opening the door, he entered the office and smiled at Liz.
“Hey, Coach. When’s the first game of the season?” she asked.
Liz and her husband, Mark, never missed a Junior league home game. Not since their son had played years before. “In two weeks.” He hoped he was able to work out the kinks in his new team by then. The first practice was the next evening, and he was still a little worried about how the boys who’d been playing on the team for three years would feel about the new co-ed structure.
“We’ll be there,” she said, marking it on her wall calendar.
“Great.” He glanced toward the teachers lounge where the door was propped open and he could see a pair of tanned bare feet with French manicured toes poking out behind the doorframe. Very few women had a beautiful sun-kissed glow in Colorado in the fall, and his palms sweat a little as he asked Liz, already knowing the answer, “Is…uh…Abby here?”
“You mean Abigail?” she asked with a look.
Ah, so she wasn’t going by her old nickname anymore. Too bad. He’d only ever referred to her as Abby—in real life and in his inappropriate dreams about her—and he sure as hell wasn’t about to stop now. “She in there?” he asked, pointing to the lounge. He’d recognize those ankles anywhere. It was pathetic, really.
“Yep,” she said as the phone rang and she excused herself to answer it.
He took a deep breath and walked into the staff lounge.
Abby sat on the couch, several file folders on the seat next to her and test papers spread out on the coffee table, next to a coffee mug with a faded Glenwood Falls Elementary logo on it. She obviously didn’t hear him enter as she continued to work, and he took a second just to look at her. She’d always been beautiful, and time hadn’t changed that. Nor had it dulled the ache in his chest that killed him every time he saw her, knowing she wanted nothing to do with him. How many times over the years had he tried to forget about her? Telling himself holding out for a woman he couldn’t have was pointless. But common sense and self-preservation went straight out the window the moment she walked back into his life…available once more, but still out of reach.
He cleared his throat. The hockey jerseys. He was just here for the hockey jerseys.
When she looked up, her eyes widened for a brief second before they took on a look of annoyance. She had no idea why he was there, and already she was irritated? Wow. Had he always had this effect on her? His jaw clenched.
“Hi,” she said curtly.
“Hey…I need to put in the request for funding for the new hockey team uniforms.”
“Oh, okay.” She looked around her at the mess of papers.
Not exactly the most organized teacher he’d ever seen. But definitely the sexiest, he thought as she leaned forward and he was offered a glimpse down her blouse. The slight swell of her tanned breasts spilling over the top of her bra made his mouth go dry.
“Just a sec. I know that file is here…somewhere.”
Stepping forward, he reached past her on the couch and picked up the blue file folder with SCHOOL FUNDRAISER ACTIVITIES written across the tab. “This one maybe?”
She took it. “That’s it.” She opened it and flipped through the pages. Locating the junior hockey league’s funding spreadsheet, she scanned it quickly. “So, it looks like there is…”
“Seven hundred and forty-two dollars and sixteen cents in the budget. Yes, I know.” His own blood, sweat, and tears had gone into raising that money along with the team last year. Everything from bottle drives to chocolate bar sales, he’d been the one encouraging the efforts.
“Right. So, what do you need?” She picked up her pen and waited. Strands of her long blonde hair escaped the loose, messy bun at the back of her head, and she tucked them behind one ear.
So many times he’d imagined what that silky hair would feel like falling against his chest or under his lips…The temptation to touch it now, to tangle his fingers in it, messing it up even further, took all his strength to fight. He didn’t know what it was about her that had him so completely, foolishly head over skates, but resisting her was getting harder and harder. The only thing holding him back from making a move was her obvious disdain for him whenever they were forced to share the same air.
She glanced up at him from the couch. “You still with me?” she asked, waving a hand in front of his dazed expression.
He cleared his throat and mind. “Yeah, we need three hundred and fifty-four of that for the new uniforms.”
She jotted down the number and subtracted the total from their budget. “Do you need anything else?”
Yes, a lot more.
He shook his head. “That’s it, thanks.” He turned to leave, then swung back. “Actually, there was something.” He reached into his back pocket for a rolled permission form. “We’ll need this filled out before the first practice. You guys left the other night before I handed them out.”
She took the release and scanned it. “Didn’t I already sign one of these for tryouts?”
“That was just for tryouts. This one asks for more information and needs to be signed by both parents or legal guardians,” he said. He wasn’t sure if Dean knew about Dani playing hockey yet, but the way Abby’s eyes clouded made him think not. Which was odd. He would have thought she would have been excited to tell her dad. Were they not keeping in touch with Dean since moving to Glenwood Falls? Were things really that bad?
He hadn’t spoken to Dean since his separation from Abby, which was odd, too. They usually Skyped several times a year, and he made the trip to L.A. each summer for a visit, but that year the timing hadn’t lined up for both of them. He’d called him several times and left unreturned messages, but other than seeing his buddy’s recent Facebook posts, he’d had little contact with him for almost a year. Though in the pics of Dean with that Dallas Stars cheerleader, it appeared his friend wasn’t having too hard of a time with his recent divorce. Jackson shook the thoughts away. Not his problem or his business.
“Well, Dean’s in L.A…” Abby was saying.
“We can scan and email it to him, and he can sign and return the same way.”
“Okay. Fine. Thank you.” She tucked the form into the purse next to her on the couch and returned to the work in front of her.
“Oh, one last thing. What name does Dani want on the back of her jersey?” He knew the answer for the other kids on the team, but hadn’t wanted to assume on this one. He’d rush order Dani’s jersey from the pro-shop to have it for her the following evening.
Abby blinked. “Her last name, I guess.”
“Which is?”
She looked panicked, as though he’d just asked her a trick question. “Um…I guess it would be Jansen-Underwood.”
No way. He refused to do that to the poor kid. “No. Hyphenating your child’s name is just cruel. Pick one.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Fine. Jansen.”
His jaw clenched. “Her name isn’t Underwood?” That was where her talent came from. Dean deserved that much credit at least.
“Not for long…” she muttered. “Jansen’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
The staredown that followed could have made the entire building implode. Her hard, unreadable expression made him want to grab her and kiss the annoyance from her face. The tension lingered so thick between them it was hard to breathe, and his own resolve was quickly fading as the urge to shut the staff room door and give in to the impulse he’d been fighting since he was nine years old grew stronger.
“Maybe we should ask Dani,” he said finally, the words coming out on a long sigh. She probably hadn’t had much say in any of the changes happening in her life these days, but she should at least get a say in this.
“Ask me what?” the nine-year-old herself asked, entering the office as the final school bell rang. “Hi, Coach,” she said with a wide smile.
He returned it. Perfect timing. She’d just saved her mother from being kissed senseless. “How’s my newest offenseman?”
“Offensewoman,” Abby corrected.
“It’s a non-gender-specific term, Mom,” Dani said.
Abby sighed. “Anyway, now that you’re here, Coach Westmore was wondering what name you wanted on the back of your jersey.”
Dani’s gaze lowered. “Um…”
“Whatever you decide is fine,” Abby said, and to her credit she sounded sincere, even though seconds before she was pushing for the Jansen name.
“I’d like to have Underwood, if that’s okay,” she said.
If Abby was disappointed, she hid it well. “Great. Then Underwood it is,” she said, avoiding his gaze and busying herself collecting the papers.
“I just think people recognize that name so it might help, you know, with the other kids,” Dani said.
“It’s a good choice, Dani,” he said, his eyes still on Abby. “You can never go wrong with an Underwood.”
When her gaze met his, it was unreadable, but it made him wish he could once again swallow his words. He had to get his emotions in check. He could blame Abby for a lot of things—including dragging his best friend’s name through the mud—but he couldn’t blame her for not ever giving him the time of day.
He was the only one to blame for that.
The first time he’d seen Abby Jansen was the first day of second grade. His family had moved from Denver to Glenwood Falls when his mother decided to go back to work full time after his younger brother, Asher, started school. There was an open teaching position at the high school in the town. His father was a self-employed electrician and was just as happy living in the smaller town, where he didn’t have to compete for work with bigger companies.
Led by their mother, he and his three siblings had walked into the principal’s office to register, and there she was—the closest thing to an angel he thought he’d ever see. Long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and a toothless grin that had made his little heart pound and made him forget his own name when asked.
“I’m Abby,” she’d said, standing next to three other students he barely noticed. “I’m your student friend. I’m going to show you around school and help you settle in.”
Ben had nudged him and whispered. “Someone’s got a girlfriend already…”
And that was when he’d realized his brothers had both been assigned other boys their age to be their student friends. Why had he gotten stuck with a girl? A pretty girl who made his stomach do weird things and caused his tongue to swell?
“I don’t need your help,” he’d said.
She hadn’t seemed fazed as she’d shrugged. “Okay, well, we’re in the same class, so if you need…”
“I won’t need help from a girl,” he’d said, earning him a punch to the shoulder from Becky, who was three years older. He’d shot her a look, as the principal had led them all down the hall, stopping at each of their classrooms to introduce them to their new teachers: Becky in fifth grade, Ben in fourth, Asher in kindergarten, and he in second, with Abby.
When his new teacher told him to take a seat, he did, as far away from her as possible.
His avoidance strategy had started that first day of meeting her. Funny how even at such a young age, he’d known a girl like Abby would never fall for a boy like him.
“Let’s go home,” she was saying now to Dani as she slid her feet back into a pair of flats that reminded him of the ballet slippers his sister used to wear. Obviously she’d gotten smart and ditched the heels. Too bad; they’d made her calves look sexy as hell.
He turned his attention to the little girl. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow?”
She nodded in excitement. “Can’t wait. It’s going to be awesome,” she said, glancing between him and her mother.
“Awesome,” they both repeated in unison, neither with the same enthusiasm.