Page 95 of Slapshot Bride

“You must be Riley. I’m Wyatt. I’m his favorite,” The younger man introduces himself.

I see Easton roll his eyes, but he doesn’t leave my side.

“Don’t tell him I said this. But I think I’m his favorite, even though we have a love-hate relationship,” Wyatt whispers beside me, and I can’t help but laugh.

I try to imagine him annoying Easton in the locker room.

“You wish,” Easton cut in.

“See?” Wyatt says, arms spread.

“He's lying, Riley,” Easton says from beside me. “don't encourage him.”

“Come on, don’t be like that, man,” Wyatt says. “I brought you a drink.”

He presses a lemonade into my hand. “It has absolutely no alcohol because I have no idea what you drink yet, and I wanted to make a first impression that didn't end with an ambulance ride.”

He winks at Easton. “Also, I'm shamelessly trying to get on your good side, so your man here can go easy on me the next time I get on his nerves.”

My laughter finally dies down, and I take the drink.

“Wyatt. I already like you.”

“Easton, she likes me.”

“I heard.”

Kai grunts something from the grill that sounds like she has taste, and Wyatt hits his own chest.

Theo comes over next, a tall defenseman with a three-year-old attached to his hip. The three-year-old has curls and a juice box.

“Riley, this is Emma. Emma, this is Riley.” Easton does the introductions again.

“Yeah, Papa Bear is here,” Wyatt announces.

Emma looks at me for approximately one second and then reaches for me.

“Oh,” I say.

“She does this all the time when she meets a new person,” Theo says. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I want to.” I hand my drink over to Easton, who has stepped aside, and I take the little girl. She settles into my hip like she has always been there.

“You have kid experience,” Theo says.

“Not at all, but she’s lovely.”

He looks at his daughter, who is now inspecting the collar of my shirt with the seriousness of a jeweler.

The afternoon goes by.

I get to meet Coach Brennan and some of the other teammates. Easton and everyone make it easy. I also meet Quinn, the one woman in the group.

I join her on the wide deck at the back of the house, while the boys go about chatting. She’s dressed in cutoffs and a Hockey Camp t-shirt from what looks like 2016, one leg up on the bench, drinking a beer with the ease of a woman who grew up in this yard.

She's Coach Brennan’s daughter. She's home from her senior year of college for the summer. She sees me coming with Emma on my hip and grins.

“Hi Riley, have a seat.” She taps beside her. “And yes, I’ve heard about you from the guys, and how you’ve had Easton wrapped around your finger.” She winks.