He grinned and answered, “Sam.”
“Sam who?”
“Sam person who knocked last night.”
Sam laughed. “That was a good one.”
“I know.”
Autumn chuckled and glanced up, her green eyes catching his for a brief moment before her gaze returned to Conner’s skate. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay if I don’t overdo.” He sat on the bench and helped Conner strap on his elbow pads.
Autumn tied the last lace in a double
knot and looked up at Sam, his blond head bent over Conner’s as he worked with one hand. She’d picked up Conner and come straight from work. Earlier, she and Shiloh had met with Shiloh’s friends, Lisa and Jen, to plan their commitment ceremony. It wasn’t the first time they’d planned a same-sex commitment ceremony, but it was the first time they’d done it for friends, and they wanted their day to be perfect. After she’d picked up Conner from school, she’d driven to the Key Arena and parked in the garage. The two had been met by someone within the Chinooks’ organization and moved through the concrete maze within the bel y of the arena. At the end, Sam had been standing on rubber mats near the entrance to the tunnel, waiting for them. He wore black sweats with a fish logo and looked huge in his skates. He wasn’t wearing any pads or the sling on his arm. He looked hot and sweaty. His hair was finger-combed like he’d been working out. Alone or with one of his supermodels. Unfortunately, she knew about Sam’s workouts. Knew that he had the stamina and determination of an elite athlete.
A frown creased her brow. Best not to think about Sam’s thoroughness. “This isn’t overdoing?”
“No. Not unless Conner hip checks me and slams my face into the Plexiglas. ”
Conner laughed. “I won’t put the big hurt on you, Dad.”
Autumn reached for a fitted kneepad on the bench and strapped it on.
“I don’t need those.”
“You don’t want them, but you need them.”
“You’l get used to wearing your gear. Your helmet, too. It’s part of the game,” Sam said as he handed her the left kneepad. “My mom used to help me with my gear.”
“And your dad, too?”
Sam shook his head. “He wasn’t interested in my hockey.”
Not interested in his own son? Autumn paused in the act of securing the Velcro behind Conner’s knee. He had to be joking. He looked at her without lifting his face, and said as if he’d read her mind, “He was a police officer. A very good police officer. He just wasn’t a very good dad.”
Like him. He lowered his gaze, but not before Autumn saw the thought clearly expressed in his eyes. She had to give Sam some credit. Lately, he’d been paying a lot more attention to Conner. He was trying hard and keeping his word to his son. If she were a betting woman, she would have bet against him. She’d have bet that he would have gone back to his old ways already. Then again, it had only been a month and a half since the arrival of the new and improved Sam.
She finished the last strap and rose. With his good hand, he put Conner’s helmet on his head, then helped him to his feet.
“The ice is snowier today. You probably won’t fal as much,” Sam assured Conner.
“Good.” Conner sounded relieved as the two stepped onto the ice, and he moved in front of Sam and stood beneath Sam’s much bigger feet. “I don’t like to fal al the time. It hurts my bum-bum.”
“Didn’t we talk about bum-bum?”
“Yeah.”
They moved their skates at the same time, inching forward. Looking a lot like—dare she even think it—penguins.
“What did we decide?”
“That just because Mom’s a girl, she’s not as smart as boys.”
Autumn lifted her gaze as Sam whipped his head around to look at her.
“Uhhh… I don’t remember saying that.” Guilt worked its way across his face.