Page 65 of Crack the Ice

“I do. It’s absolutely beautiful. Did you pick all this out?”

“No, not all of it.” She walks to the little pillows and the round, wicker coffee table in the corner. “But I did pick these out. And Cade picked the bedding. He said it looks comfortable.”

Cecilia’s shoulders shake against me. “It does look comfortable. You two did a great job, and I can’t wait to be in here all the time. But for now, how about you give me the tour so I know where everything is?”

“And when do you think you’ll be in here all the time?” I whisper as I lightly nip at the skin on her shoulder.

“I don’t know. I can bring my clothes over this week. But don’t you think we should tell your sisters before that happens? Sunny’s already agreed to take over my house, so that’s taken care of.”

“Okay, we’ll get them together at some point this week then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I hum against her back. “Okay, go let the kids show you around. I’ll order dinner. You can cook some other time.”

I watch her follow Cade and Lily back down the hall. Our rooms are the only two on this side of the house, a decision I told the kids was because “adults sometimes stay up late and during the school year, that would be bad for their sleeping habits.” I’m sticking with that.

I wonder if baked potato soup is still her favorite? I don’t bother asking. I order half of the Corner Bakery menu. Sans the actual bakery items because I’m sure that would insult her, and hers are infinitely better. I quietly duck out of the house to go pick it up while she lets the kids show her around. They could use a little time to settle and decompress without me hovering.

Plus, if I stayed any longer, I might have sent the kids to their room so I could push her up against the wall and kiss her senseless. Maybe christen her room, beg for her to let me reacquaint myself with the curves of her body.

Truthfully, I don’t see that working out well for anyone but me. Fuck being the responsible one…

TWENTY-THREE

CECILIA

“I think it’s so cool that you have these in here, Cade,” I say, running my hand across the iron pipes of the industrial bookshelf in his room. It reminds me of something you’d see in an uppity New York library.

“These are your dads?” I ask, pausing when I reach the shelf that holds multiple blinged-out belt buckles, a few trophies with a bull on the top, and a cowboy hat hanging off the corner. I knew their dad rode bulls. I also know that isn’t how he died, but other than that, and the little piece of info Mav dropped about the barbecue sauce, I know nothing about him.

“Yeah, he was a beast in the arena. Lived his life eight seconds at a time. I used to want to be like him so bad.” He chuckles, running his hand through sandy blond hair. “But I hated bulls. I hated the rodeo, probably because he traveled a lot. But when he’d take us with him?” He looks up at me, his blue eyes shining with the tears slowly building behind them. “He was so much like Mav is with the team. ‘The rodeo dad,’ my mom used to call him.”

“Did he ever get to see you play?” I ask, moving my gaze from his dad’s trophies to Cade’s. He’s got MVP awards, leadership awards, skill camp medals. The kid is a decorated player, and it looks like he’s been that way for a while.

“No, but I write his name on the back of all my laces so he’s with me when I play.”

My throat tightens as tears prick behind my own eyes. “That’s incredibly sweet, Cade. What a great way to honor him. He’d be proud of you, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. I love my mom, but he was my best friend. Lily’s too. Mom was more of a behind-the-scenes mom, never really comfortable with going out to sporting events and having to do the whole “mingle with moms” thing.”

I snort out a laugh because Caroline said the same thing to me one time when she came to pick up Lily from dance and I asked why she didn’t stay and watch.

“She was our emotional core, always who we ran to when something was wrong, or we didn’t know how to explain how we were feeling, hell, even if we needed a hug. But Dad was the fun one, the outgoing, louder-than-life parent who lived to make all of us smile.”

“And who are you most like?” I ask, turning to rest against the side of his desk.

“Mom,” he says, eyes falling to the floor. “Lily’s definitely the more outgoing one, but sometimes I think it has a lot to do with Dad dying when we were so young. I felt like I had to step up and be the man for Lily.”

“Mav had to do that for Lana too,” I add. “Did you know he was originally supposed to play for Vancouver?”

Cade’s eyes widen as he moves in front of me. “What? Really?”

“Mhm.” My hands wrap around the edge of the desk. “He was going to have to pick between hockey and Lana, but luckily, Savannah Collins just so happens to be my other best friend. I may or may not have begged her to beg her dad to get Mav a spot on the Hawks. As luck would have it, they had their eye on him before Vancouver drafted him.”

“Does he know that you played a role in that?”

I shrug. I never told him. I didn’t think it was important enough. “I don’t know. I didn’t do it for recognition. I did it selfishly because I didn’t want him to leave, but I also didn’t want Lana to be left alone.”