Page 25 of Hockey Nanny

“You’re just lucky I’m letting you win.” I flicked a popcorn kernel at her but she caught it, and sent it right back at me. My reflexes won out, and I snapped it from the air with my tongue. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “See? I’m so much more than a pretty face.”

Henry bounced over just in time to ruin the moment. “What next?”

I slung an arm over his shoulder and nudged Carissa with my hip. “Next stop, the skee-ball showdown. Prepare to lose, seriously.”

She laughed and shoved me back playfully, her eyes sparkling.

Henry had barely gotten his second ball onto the lane before he was bouncing on his toes, squealing. “Again! Again!”

I grabbed a ball for myself and tossed it, letting it roll up the lane with a satisfying thunk into the high point zone. Henry cheered, pumping his little fists. Carissa leaned close, murmuring with that playful smirk of hers, “You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Taking it seriously?” I shot back, smirking. “This is for Henry. Everything we do tonight is for Henry.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Sure. For Henry.”

Henry grabbed my other hand and spun in a little circle, shouting about how our team was unbeatable. He was pureenergy, running in little circles, clapping and pointing at the balls that rolled successfully. I had to bite back a laugh at how intensely he celebrated, treating every point like a Stanley Cup-winning goal.

Carissa grabbed the next ball and took aim, her focus all business. The ball shot up the lane, landing in the 50-point slot. Henry bounced in place, almost knocking over the barrier between lanes.

I shook my head, laughing. “Cheater. You planned that.”

“Planned it for Henry,” she said, giving me a pointed look, letting the words carry their weight without having to explain.

I threw my next ball and missed the top slot completely, earning an “awww” from Henry. Carissa’s ball went high again. She grinned at me, triumphant.

I pretended to scowl, but there was a heat rising behind my ribs. She was ridiculously cute when she got competitive. I had to admit it. She had that laugh, that spark in her eyes, and the way she focused, serious but playful at the same time. I felt a little guilty for all the times I’d given her a hard time, the teasing and tests of patience. She didn’t deserve that. Not really. Not tonight.

Henry grabbed a handful of tickets from the machine and waved them like a flag. “We need a prize!”

I bent down, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s see what we can get.”

Carissa laughed, crouching beside me to help Henry choose a prize. “Okay, Henry. What are we going to pick?”

He pointed to a small stuffed penguin that had a lopsided smile. “That one! He’s funny.”

“Funny’s good,” I said, pulling more tickets from the machine. Carissa leaned in and helped me slide the tickets into the dispenser, and the machine coughed out the prize. Henry squealed, holding it to his chest. “My team wins again!”

“You two are a terrible influence,” Carissa said, elbowing me lightly. “I didn’t even have a chance.”

“You didn’t need a chance,” I said, holding up my hands, playful surrender. “Henry’s happiness is our scoreboard. Look at him. That’s a perfect game.”

Henry ran off a few steps and came back with another game in mind, a little digital racing track that lit up with neon lights. “This one! This one!”

Carissa followed him, laughing, and I grabbed the second controller. “Alright. Let’s see if I can beat you both.”

She smirked over her shoulder. “Doubt it.”

Henry perched on a stool between us, giggling, his little hands waving in the air whenever the cars zipped past the finish line. I let Carissa win, just once, watching her face light up. Henry laughed louder than I’d heard all night.

“You did that on purpose,” she accused, laughing.

“I did it for Henry,” I said. The truth wasn’t far from it. Seeing her grin, hearing Henry roar with laughter, it made the coil in my shoulders loosen a fraction. She caught my glance and grinned, a subtle acknowledgment that maybe she knew the whole thing was a setup.

After the race, Henry darted off toward another game. I grabbed her hand, steering us toward the tickets counter. “We’ve got enough for one more prize, think he’d pick a helicopter or a car?”

“Helicopter,” she said instantly. “He’s obsessed, remember?”

I nodded, feeling that tug again in my chest. The tug for Dawson and Gage. I hated that it never left. Always there, in the background. Every time I laughed, every time I ran, it was lurking somewhere under the surface. I didn’t want them to see it. Not tonight.