Chapter Five

Then

 

Call me a sap, but my favorite Sunday of the month was the Sunday we played at home and had a post-skate session with the kids who called themselves Beloit Enforcers fans. Once a month, the team hosted a post-game skating session, and it was always a good time.

Between the kids and the players, I really couldn’t tell you who had more fun.

The kids...damn, the joy on their faces was absolutely priceless. It reminded me of growing up in northern Wisconsin, putting on my skates, and heading out to the frozen lake, my dad’s hand in mine. Some of these kids were impressive, with their speed and agility on skates—again, reminding me of years way long gone.

Then there were the kids who needed their hands held; the kids who didn’t have skates, but loved stepping on the very ice their idols played on.

It was a time to forget whatever the hell happened on the ice—such as a loss, like today’s game had been—and relive the excitement of being young again.

“Noah!” I turned my attention from Kolak, who I was talking to at center ice, as our booster club president’s daughter shuffled toward us, bright pink skates laced up on her feet. “Can I skate with you?”

While it sounded like a question, I knew five-year-old Juliet well, and therefore knew what she was really asking.

Grinning wide, I leaned down to lift the girl up to sit on my shoulders, keeping her hands in my own.

The Beloit Enforcers’ booster club was like an extended family. They put on pre-game lunches, post-game dinners, and, already this season, hosted two events, with another two on the schedule. The kids were everywhere their parents were, and as such, they were like honorary nieces and nephews to all us guys.

“Watch your blades,” I told her, the usual warning I gave before looking toward her mother. I spotted Maryan, then nodded up in her direction once for the okay, which I received. She’d been watching Juliet, her youngest, while carrying on a conversation with Coach’s wife and few other booster club members, but now turned her full attention to the group of them.

“You ready?” I asked, turning my head a notch.

Juliet giggled and grasped my hands as tight as she could.

“One… Two…”

“Three!” she shrieked, just as I took off in a speed skate toward the other goal line, coasting across the back before heading in the opposite direction. The entire time, her sweet giggles had me grinning wide.

I had a niece and two nephews, but I didn’t get to see them as often as I’d like. These post-skates, these moments with kids like Juliet, made me nostalgic for my family. Juliet’s giggles reminded me of my niece, Kendall; my sister Natalie’s oldest.

Just as I was slowing to a stop, ready to drop Juliet off by her mother, she squeezed my hands. “One more time, please? Please, Noah?”

I chuckled, and couldn’t help but concede. “One more, Jules. You can’t hog all my attention,” I joked, before heading around the rink one more time. Once we came to a slow stop, I lifted her back over my head and put her down to the ice gently, making sure she was steady on her blades before letting go.

“Don’t tease your brother,” I told her. The girl liked to hold these things over her eight-year-old brother’s head...which, honestly? Cracked me up.

She laughed, but whatever she said was lost on me as I moved my gaze toward the players’ tunnel, where my eyes landed on one Ryleigh Scott.

Like every time I’ve noticed her—and I caught myself noticing her more since that non-note her friend passed along—she was in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt; nothing fancy, nothing jaw dropping, but it made no difference.

Once I saw her, that was that.

During the game, I became focused on little things that I’d see during my glances back and over toward her seat, glances that I wasn’t aware I was doing. But then I’d catch her smile, her small claps, her shouts, her laughs. And now? Now, I watched how she smiled down at a little girl, whose hand was wrapped tight in hers.

Who was the girl?

“Noah!” Juliet called, still standing by my feet.

“Sorry, Jules, what’s up?”

“Justin’s sick,” she informed me, referring to her eight-year-old brother. “Can you sign something for him to make him feel better? He was sad, but don’t tell him that.”

“Sure thing. I can do that.”

We skated back toward her mom and, even after insistence from Maryan that I really didn’t have to sign anything, that Justin had plenty of memorabilia, I grabbed a game puck and signed it in the silver marker I kept in the pocket of my sweats during these skates, adding on it that I wished him to get well soon. I handed it to Maryan, who smiled graciously, before heading back toward the middle of the ice.

...where Caden Payne was ice dancing.

The man couldn’t dance to save his life, and there he was, center ice, doing some sideways lawn mower move. With a chuckle, I slid to a stop in front of him.

“Hey, white boy. Leave the dancing for the girls. Or your fiancée.”

Caden recently proposed to a country music star—who, to be completely honest, couldn’t dance either, but the girl had pipes on her. That, and with legs for days, who the hell cared if she serenaded in the middle of the stage, just rocking back and forth?

“He’s terrible, right?” Nick Kolak said, as he slid to a stop right next to me, crossing his arms over his chest with a grin.

“I’m better than you two,” Caden cut in. “You and your sprinkler, Nick, need to go back to the sixties.”

“Those are not dance moves, men,” I said, shaking my head. I held my hands out in front of me and, after looking around and making sure there were no little eyes targeted on us, did a slow grind with the imaginary woman in front of me.

You would be correct in thinking that I had Ryleigh’s soft hips on the brain.

But I didn’t say it.

“How’s the blow-up doll enjoying these moves?” Caden grinned, his brows lifted high, to his buzzed blond head.

“Screw you,” I laughed, absolutely zero heat in the jest, as I dropped my hands to my sides.

“So, about that letter,” Nick said slowly, nudging me with his elbow three times.

Yeah.

I’d told them about it.

These two and Teague were not only my roommates, but three of my best friends. Teague and I went back to college, but Kolak, Paden, and I were all in Moline last season. When San Diego announced their farm team expansion to Beloit, and we all learned we would be playing together, it had been party central.

“What about it?” I stuffed my hands in my pockets, my right hand fidgeting with the marker there.

Nick looked back over my shoulder, nodding upward once. When he looked back toward our group, Caden took the opportunity to lean over, looking past my shoulder, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face at what he saw. And, even though I had it on good authority it was Ryleigh they were going on about, I looked over my shoulder too.

There she was, still hand-in-hand with the little girl, as they talked to Teague, her side toward us.

Lucky bastard.

Now that she was hardly twenty feet away, I took in what I had earlier thought was ‘just’ a long-sleeved shirt.

It was a bit more than that.

It was deep maroon in color, falling loosely just below her hips, but hugged her chest far better. Ryleigh Scott was probably average high and build by today’s standards. She had a sweet hour-glass figure that wasn’t usually evident in the baggy sweatshirts she seemed to prefer, but was absolutely put on display today.

Before I could sport wood, I turned back toward my boys, but not quite fast enough to miss her quick glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes locking with mine for a fraction of a second.

I cleared my throat. “What of it?”

Nick barked a quick laugh. “Why don’t you just talk to her? You two make eyes at each other all the damn time.”

Caden nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “My favorite is during warm ups. Dude, you used to stretch on that side of the ice,” he said, pointing toward our bench, “but now, you stretch over there so you can watch her while you’re down in a butterfly stretch. It’s sad, man.”

Butterfly stretches were great for the groin, but they also could make a horny man think of other things to be doing in that position...and now that Caden put the thought in my head, I couldn’t stop it from fully forming.

“Hey now,” I said, trying hard to reroute the direction of my thoughts. I put my hands up and, really needing to divert from the conversation, started to slowly skate backward. “I’m figuring out the best move.”

Which was a partial truth. I really wasn’t sure if I should even make a move. I kept trying to tell myself I didn’t have time, but damn, I was intrigued by the girl.

“Sure, man. Sure,” Caden said, a cocky grin on his face.

With a sly middle finger salute in front of me, I turned to skate away, and while Ryleigh never turned, the little girl who was with her, did. When she waved, I waved right back.

Cute kid.

One more lap around the ice, and I headed toward the lockers.

Thinking back to the earlier thought of whether a move on Ryleigh was worth it…

When a woman caught your attention as much as Ryleigh Scott did? She was probably worth it.