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“Porter,” I called out, holding the door open to the rink.

He gave me a swift head nod and met us at the doorway. The heavy steel door closed behind us, and just like that, I was home. The sounds and smells of the ice rink were more welcoming to me than any Thanksgiving turkey. Not that we’d ever had Thanksgiving turkey. My family didn’t even put the fun in dysfunctional. We were just plain old, every day fucked up.

“Don’t let them get to you,” I told Porter, shifting Hannah’s slight weight in my arms.

“Easy for you to say,” he snapped back. “I sure as he—” his gaze swung to Hannah and he cleared his throat. “Heck don’t see them going after you.”

“That’s because I don’t give them a reason to.”

“Who might you be?” Porter asked Hannah, his voice low.

She looked up from my shoulder and stared him right in the eye, not even glancing at the scar that bisected his eyebrow and trailed to his cheekbone. “I’m Hannah Bridgerton. This is my Uncle Connor. He’s a Shark.”

The corners of Porter’s mouth quirked up slightly to something I almost called a smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Hannah. My name is Hudson, and I’m a Shark just like your uncle. But I bet you already knew that.”

Hannah’s nose scrunched up and she shook her head slowly. “I didn’t know that, but now I do. I don’t really like hockey, honestly.” She shrugged, emphasizing her point.

“But I’ve seen you at a couple of our games,” Porter said as we continued our walk toward the locker room.

“I just like my Uncle Connor. Oh! And Ivy. I like her most of all.”

Ivy-fucking-Harris. Of course, my niece would be obsessed with the one woman I couldn’t stand to be around.

I could’ve sworn I heard Porter chuckle, but the guy hadn’t so much as cracked a grin since joining the Sharks.

“Maybe she can braid my hair again. She does really good braids.”

That pretty much made Ivy a God in Hannah’s eyes, or at least a fashion icon. Either way, Ivy wasn’t someone I wanted Hannah looking up to. If she needed to find a good female role model, we had plenty of those in the ranks of the Sharks’ spouses.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Hannah. My guess is that Ivy isn’t here today,” I told her as we split off from Porter and headed toward Pepper’s office. My best friend’s wife was one of the only people I trusted with Hannah. I hated asking her the favor of watching Hannah during this practice, but I was out of options, and since she was the Shark’s statistician, I knew she’d be around.

I knocked briefly on Pepper’s door and entered when she gave the okay. Inside the spacious office, Pepper sat at her computer, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her teal highlighted hair, while her husband, Eric, looked on adoringly from her couch.

But it was the woman perched on the corner of Pepper’s desk who held my immediate attention. Ivy and Pepper may have been identical twins, but they couldn’t look more different to me. It wasn’t just that Pepper kept her hair highlighted with bright colors, where Ivy wore hers long and blonde. The subtle differences were in the shape of their faces, or Ivy’s slightly fuller lower lip that always made me think of taking a delicious bite of the plump flesh. But mostly, it was in the way they carried themselves. Pepper was always focused, never concerned with the world around her unless it involved hockey or Eric.

Ivy, however, wasn’t just a social butterfly. She was magnetic, drawing people to her without even trying. Her personality was effervescent, her joy contagious, and her rage destructive. If the girls were a deck of cards, Pepper was the queen of hearts. Ivy was the wildcard. You never knew what you were going to get, but you always knew it wouldn’t be what you had expected. Case in point: the woman had screwed one of my teammates and then exposed her sister to their father when Pepper had fallen in love with Eric, nearly getting my best friend fired from the Sharks. For what? Petty jealousy that Pepper and Eric had something lasting while Crosby had chosen to stay on the Sharks over staying with Ivy?

Crosby was a fucking idiot to walk away from those legs, those eyes, that bottom lip, but that was beside the point.

“Ivy!” Hannah exclaimed, and dove from my arms. I barely caught her before she hit the floor, and the minute her toes brushed the carpet, she was already flying toward Ivy.

“Hannah-banana!” Ivy answered, opening her arms to accept an enthusiastic hug from my niece. “What are you doing here today?”

“My mama dropped me off with Uncle Connor. I was a surprise, not a plan.”

Ivy’s eyes flew to mine in silent question, and I nodded. For all the things that annoyed me about Ivy, she certainly wasn’t a stranger to my sister dropping off Hannah with no notice. Her gaze softened, and my will hardened. It’s easy to admit that I’d had a hard-on for Ivy since the moment I saw her, but I’d stopped letting my dick rule my brain right around the time I turned seventeen. When it came to Ivy, I kept my walls up and my hormones in check.

“Did she?” Ivy asked Hannah softly, dropping to her eye-level. “Does that mean I get to hang out with you during practice today?”

I hated how Hannah’s face lit up. Couldn’t she be attached to Pepper? Or to Chloe? Anyone but Ivy. And yet, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, both needing help with Hannah, and fighting my relief that my niece was smiling.

“Can I, Uncle Connor?” Hannah asked, looking up at me with those great big green eyes. I used to think that someday those eyes would bring a man to his knees. I just never realized I would be that man.

“Can she, Connor?” Ivy asked, mimicking Hannah’s pleading tone.

“Please?” Hannah begged. “I’ll be really good, I promise.”

I rolled my eyes and adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “It’s not you I’m worried about Hannah-banana.” I shot a meaningful look at Ivy, whose jaw dropped in mock indignation.

“I’ll be really good, Uncle Connor, I promise,” Ivy repeated Hannah’s plea, her two fingers up in a V. “Scouts honor.”

“Were you even a Girl Scout?”

“That’s a no,” Pepper answered for her sister, pushing away from her computer.

“Oh, come on, Connor. You know we’ll stay out of trouble.”

Was Hannah even in the right state of mind for me to leave? Was I making the wrong decision to go to practice?

“Hannah, why don’t you grab my iPad from your bag and play for a second. I need to chat with the grown-ups outside.” To my relief, Hannah nodded, and was quickly distracted by the electronics.

The adults followed me into the hallway.

“What’s up man?” Eric asked. The giant goalie had been my best friend since we joined the Sharks a couple of years ago and he was more than acquainted with Jessica’s ways.

“Jessica walked out,” I said softly, just in case Hannah could hear through the door.

“What do you mean, walked out?” Pepper asked, taking Eric’s hand.

“I mean showed up with a backpack, a couple of outfits, some paperwork, and a note saying she wasn’t coming back—that Hannah was better off with me.”

Both of the girls gasped.

“Honestly, she is better off with you,” Eric stated the obvious. “But that’s beside the point. What are you going to do?”

“What choice do I have?” I raked my hands over my hair. “I’m going to do what I always do, which is take care of Hannah.”

“Does she know?” Ivy asked gently.

I shook my head. “She knows something is different but doesn’t fully grasp the situation. She is only five. Hell, I’m twenty-eight and I don’t grasp the damned situation.”

“What can we do for you? How can we help?” Ivy asked.

I drew my gaze up from the floor to meet her eyes. “I don’t even know. I have no clue what I’m doing, or if I’ll even be legally allowed to keep her. I just don’t know.”

Ivy wrapped her arms around her waist like she needed to be held together. “Whatever you need, I’m here. No one

should have to lose their mother.”

A pang of sympathy hit my heart, remembering that Ivy and Pepper had lost their mother to cancer.

“We are all here,” Eric agreed. “We’ll talk to coach, and we’ll figure out what accommodations you’ll need.”

“For right now, let’s start with practice. She is safe with me, I promise,” Ivy swore. “I know we don’t get along, but in this, for Hannah, I’m here.”

My throat threatened to close, clogged with emotion and gratitude.

“And no matter what you decide, or what path you choose, we’re here to support you and Hannah,” Pepper promised.

“Thank you. I really, truly mean that. Thank you,” I aimed that last portion at Ivy, who nodded. “I guess we should probably get out on the ice, huh?”

“Yeah it’s time to head to the locker room,” Eric confirmed.

The walk down the concrete hallway toward the Sharks’ locker room was short, my mind still racing by the time we reached the swinging doors.

“So, what are you thinking when it comes to Hannah? You could always call your mom.” Eric suggested.

I snorted. “Yeah, not everyone grew up in a Leave it to Beaver household like you did, Gentry. You have to remember that my mom is the reason Jessica got into drugs in the first place. Like hell am I calling her for any help.” I wouldn’t call that woman if she was the last human on earth, and I sure as hell wasn’t inviting her anywhere near Hannah.

“Okay, point taken. So what’s the first step?”

A shot of pure focus and determination struck me, hit my gut like tequila, burning me in the best way. I survived growing up with my mom. I kept Jessica as clean as long as I could. I made the NHL with little to no family support.

I could do this, too.

I could raise Hannah.

“Step one,” I answered. “We’re going to practice. We just made the playoffs. I’m going to need that raise Coach promised when my contract is up for renegotiation.”

“And the second step?” Gentry prodded, keeping me from the locker room until my head was on straight.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Seattle Sharks Romance