“It’s not over.” I feign confidence.
“Oh … it’s over, Elvis.” Nate putzes his way around the cones and uses one hand to take his shot.
Goal.
“Luck,” I say, holding my head high.
“Luck, huh?” He stickhandles the puck like a drunk guy before making another one-handed shot.
Goal.
“Do you want me to rub up against you … maybe my luck will rub off on you for next time.”
“What happens if there’s a tie?” I tap my stick on the ice.
“Tie goes to you.”
“No. I don’t like that.” I twist my lips. “It’s a wash. No spa day. No tattoos.”
“Sounds boring …” He skates backward, expertly maneuvering the puck through the cones without breaking eye contact with me. Then … because I’ve been a bit down on my luck anyway … he keeps his back to the goal and shoots.
Son of a bitch.
Nate doesn’t turn. Not one single glance back. He skates toward me knowing damn well he made the shot. “Time to go, kids.” He breezes by me, nabbing my stick.
*
My two unseen tattoos create this wedge between us. On the way home, we don’t speak to each other, just the kids. I feel his occasional sideways glance on me during the drive, but I close my eyes and ignore it, opting to focus on the breeze washing over me in his very cool convertible.
“Can Gabe come over for dinner?” Morgan asks the second we climb out of the car.
“Sure. I have fish we can grill. You guys good with fish?” Nate asks, his attention split equally between me and Gabe.
“I like fish.” Gabe follows Morgan to the door.
“What about you?” Nate smiles, letting his eyes make their usual slow inspection of my hair before his gaze inches down my body.
I glance at my watch. “I actually have something I need to do. Rain check?”
He glances at the sky. “Rain’s not predicted, but I’ll take one.”
“Great. So … thanks for feeding Gabe.” I dig the key fob to the Land Rover out of my purse.
“I take it I’ve been thoroughly vetted? You’re good with leaving Gabe with me.”
“I don’t trust you, but I trust Morgan.” I give him a tight smile before turning and walking through the grass toward the SUV. “Send him home after dinner. I have a feeling he was up most of the night at his sleepover.”
“Good mothering.”
I glance at him as I climb in the Land Rover. Nate’s smile is genuine, and I think his compliment might be too.
“Thanks.” I start to shut the door then stop. “Nate?”
He stops his retreat to the house and turns.
“I’m not prying. And I hope it’s not crossing a line to ask you this, but what color was your wife’s hair when she was pregnant with Morgan?”
He squints, saying nothing for several seconds. “Uh … brunette. Why?”
“No reason. Night.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nathaniel
The following afternoon, I work on my book from my bed while Morgan knits in her room. She’s an expert knitter. Little do Gabe, Mr. Hans, and Gracelyn know … they’re getting knitted gifts before we head home in August, and Hunter’s getting something too.
I angle myself away from plain sight when I see Gabe head toward the deck. A few seconds later, um … okay. I assumed the person sneaking under the deck would be Gracelyn, but it’s not. I move closer to the window but stay off to the side. The woman strips and shoves her clothes into a plastic bag before surveying the area to see if the coast is clear. Who is this …?
“Whoa …” I whisper. It’s Gracelyn after all, but with red hair. Like Ed Sheeran red hair, which is actually more orange looking. She curls it behind her ear on one side and dashes up the stairs.
“I’m going to Gabe’s!” Clearly I’m not the only one focused on their arrival.
“Why don’t you play outside for a while? It’s nice.”
“Ugh … fine. I’ll tell him we have to be outside … but only for an hour. I was outside most of the morning with Hunter and you know it.”
“When did you start making the rules?” I yell downstairs, knowing she’s already halfway out the door.
Click.
I pretend she didn’t hear me, but I have a feeling she ignored me. She really needs to go back to nine and stay there forever. After capping my pen, I make my way downstairs. If I’m honest, I want them to play outside because I know it will bring my new redheaded neighbor out as well.
The screen door creaks as I ease it open and peek around the corner. On cue … the three kids run onto the beach with a Frisbee and a volleyball. Gracelyn takes a seat on the porch swing, wearing a short blue sundress that looks incredible with her new hair color.
As I approach the porch, she smiles. It’s a little more reserved than the smile I’m used to getting from her. “Love the new color.”