“Fishing?” He grabbed a banana and sliced it up.
“Yeah.”
The only time Sam fished was in Cabo. And that was more about drinking with the guys than actual y fishing. He dumped half the banana in Conner’s cereal, the other half in a blender. He grabbed a spoon and slid the bowl to his son. While Conner ate, he tossed some frozen strawberries, milk, protein powder, lecithin, and a splash of flaxseed oil into the blender. He pushed smoothie, then poured his breakfast into a big glass.
“I saw you on the boat.”
“What boat?” He was pretty sure no one had taken photos on those trips. It was kind of an unwritten rule. He turned and raised his glass to his lips.
“In the paper.” A Cheerio stuck to the corner of Conner’s mouth, and he pushed it in with the back of his hand. Ah. That picture. The one taken of him on a yacht last June pouring beer from the Stanley Cup on a few big-busted bikini models.
“I didn’t like those girls.”
“That’s ’cause you’re five.” Sam lowered the glass and licked his top lip. “You wil someday.”
Conner shook his head, and one disapproving brow rose up his forehead. Good God, he looked just his mama. “Take me on your boat. Not those girls.”
“That wasn’t my boat.”
“Oh.” Conner took a big bite and chewed. “Josh F’s dad takes him to the kindergarten,” he said around a mouthful of Cheerios. “Dads should take their kids to the kindergarten sometimes.”
How had they jumped from boats and fishing to kindergarten? “Doesn’t your mom take you?”
Conner nodded and swal owed hard. “You can take me, too.”
“Maybe when I’m in town sometime.” He took a drink. “How do you like ‘the’ kindergarten?”
“It’s okay. I like my teacher, Mrs. Rich. She reads to us. And I like Josh F.”
“Is he your friend?”
He nodded. “Yep. Not Josh R. though. He’s dumb. I don’t like him.” He scratched his cheek. “He punched me.”
“Why?”
Conner shrugged a skinny shoulder. “ ’Cause I touched his Barney backpack.”
“The purple dinosaur?”
“Yep.”
Sam licked his top lip. “Did you punch him back?”
“Oh no.” He shook his head. “I don’t like to punch people. It’s not nice.”
If the kid didn’t look just like him, Sam might wonder. He’d spent so much time in the penalty box for fighting last season, he’d been tempted to hang a picture and maybe set up a lava lamp, it had felt so much like home. “I thought Barney was for babies.”
Conner thought a minute, then nodded. “I liked Barney last year.”
“Barney sucks.”
Conner laughed, again showing his little white teeth. “Yeah. Barney sucks.”
Chapter Four
Any Man of Mine: