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He shook his head. “She’s bold. She’s not scared of anything, and there’s no such thing as a stranger to her.”
“She’s a firecracker. And yeah, I can see how that’d be scary for you.”
“The first time I met her, I picked her up from her grandparent’s house, and she just latched on to me. She looked at me like, ‘So, we doing this?’ And from that moment on, she was my buddy. I took her with me everywhere.” He grinned, remembering how she’d justexpected to be in his arms at all times. As if she’d always been there.
“I love your bond. It’s so special.”
“Yeah. But now that you’ve brought it up, I can see how my overprotectiveness is going to get her hurt. I don’t know how to let her loose in a situation where I can predict the outcome.”
“Jaime.” Her voice brushed over his skin like a soft breeze. “Is it an outcome or is it a worst-case scenario?”
“What does that mean?” A parent had to think two steps ahead to keep his kids safe.
“Well, you’re super focused on what can go wrong, but are you taking the time to notice her strengths? Are you thinking about what she’d be good at? Instead of catastrophizing, maybe think about what she’d love to do. You say she has your recklessness, but maybe she has your athleticism, too. She told me she was good at sports, and when I asked her what she plays she said she was too little.”
Embarrassed, he dropped his gaze. “That’s what I keep telling her.”
“Well, she’s only six, so there’s plenty of time. Has she asked to join a team or take lessons?”
“She’s watched me play, so yeah, she wants to skate.”
“You never know. She might be as good as her dad.” Her lips curved in a teasing grin.
He wanted to kiss that sexy smile right off her mouth. Instead, he focused on the most intriguing part of that sentence. “How do you know if her dad’s any good?”
“I peeked.”
“You peeked, huh?”
“In the barn. While you were playing.”
“And what did you see?”
“I saw the greatest forward in the history of hockey unable to get a single puck past you.”
He chuckled. “Then, I got lucky. You chose the right moment to watch.”
“Sorry, buddy. My family’s die-hard Brawler fans. I know my hockey, and you’re good. But look, maybe Kinny will hate sports, and she’ll turn out to be a brilliant artist. Or a baker like me.”
“Five minutes in a kitchen, and she’d turn baking into a science experiment. Light my whole house on fire.”
“Not you jumping straight to the worst-case scenario.”
Damn, he did do that. Caught, he held up his hands. “You’re right.”
When she flashed him that bright smile, happiness streaked through him.
Honestly, he hadn’t noticed the darkness he lived in until she turned on the lights.
He hadn’t understood the emptiness until she’d filled it.
“I have to assume it’s because you saw what happened to your friend. With that kind of trauma, it’s no wonder you’re so anxious about Kinsley getting hurt.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t want to talk about it, but in this moment—in the kitchen he’d designed to feel cozy despite its size—surrounded by fresh-baked desserts created by this woman who had such a hold on him—he couldn’t hold back. “I keep reliving it. From the elation of a good landing, to being with my friends…and then, to the shock of watching Booker’s body twist and jerk right before landing.”
She touched him. Just a light hand on his arm. And it was the exact contact he needed to stay grounded.
“It’s like a reel that plays on constant repeat somewhere inside me. It’s torture.” His vision blurred, and he blinked furiously. He would not cry.
