He should probably tell his dad it was all right, that he’d had a good childhood, but in this moment, his dad was more real than he’d ever seen him, and it didn’t feel right to lie. “I appreciate that, but I don’t really need anything anymore. I mean, I’m twenty-eight. Whatever I wanted as a kid, I’ll have to create for myself as an adult.”
He had never seen so much vulnerability in his dad’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not angry with you. I’ve always understood you’re an actor first.” Actually, he hadn’t understood that until this moment. He’d known his dad had a big, important career, but he’d never considered that his dad hadchosento be a father second. “I’m no different. I’m a hockey player first, so I get it.” Since the attorney’s phone call, he’d had a lot of anxiety about honoring Darren’s wishes—howto do it—but he finally had his answer.
He wouldn’t do to these girls what his dad had done to him. Which meant he couldn’t be a father until he retired from hockey. Between practice, meetings, physical therapy, working out, travel, games, charities, and events, what kind of father-figure would he be?
This conversation confirmed that finding them a forever home was the right thing to do.
As soon as he left, he’d call the PI.
Christmas was over. It was time to find these girls a home.
And if the idea made him a little sick to his stomach, he’d just have to deal with it.
The day before New Year’s Eve, Cole watched his team lose another game. “Fuck.” He ripped off his knee brace and threw it across the room. His team needed him right now. Not in four weeks. He texted his trainer.
Cole: We have to accelerate my recovery.
Trainer: Yeah, tough loss tonight. I get it. You need to get back. But you get on the ice too soon, and you’ll make things worse than before the surgery.
Trainer: All I can say is you’re damn lucky it was a partial medial meniscectomy. Be patient. We’ll get you there.
Every loss took them one more step away from the play-offs. He pulled up the group chat with his teammates.
Cole: Let’s go, boys. I get a few games, but a skid like this isn’t okay. Our effort is lackluster, to say the least, and we don’t look like ourselves. Pick it up, or we’re not going to be playing for much longer.
A bunch of texts came in, one after another. But there was only one that got his attention.
Ranger: We’re not ourselves, asshole. You’re not here.
Yeah, man. I know. I fucking know.
ChapterNineteen
Lostin the steady thrum of the sewing machine, Hailey startled when visitors entered her studio. “Oh.” She lifted her foot off the pedal and got up to greet them. “I took too long. I’m so sorry. I know you have to go.”
Glori had called that morning, offering to watch the girls so Hailey could get some sewing done. Normally, she would’ve said no. She and Cole had worked out a nice schedule covering each other while he skated and trained, and she worked.
But her new friend had said something that stopped her in her tracks. “Let me ask you a question. If I asked Cole if he wanted me to come by and watch the kids so he could get some training in, what do you think he’d say?”
“He’d say, ‘Please and thank you.’”She’d felt so small at that moment, because she knew Cole wouldn’t even hesitate to take up on an offer like that.
“You’re a businesswoman,” Glori had continued. “You have goals that won’t get met if you don’t take advantage of every opportunity to work. So, I’ll ask you again. I have some free time this morning at ten. I can hang out with the girls if you want to get some work done.”
“Please.” She’d smiled so big it hurt. “And thank you.”
But it wasn’t just Glori who’d shown up. It was Knox and Rosie with their children. It had turned into a playdate.
And now, all three of them surrounded her.
“What’re you talking about?” Knox asked. “We’re fine. Cole came home, so we thought we’d come down and see this fabulous studio your boyfriend designed for you.”
“He’s not my—”
All three women gave her challenging looks.
“Fine.” With a flourish, she gestured around the room. “Isn’t it amazing?” He’samazing.