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All I could promise Anthony was that I wouldn’t mention anything to the kids until he had a firm sentence or was released. Not that I need to worry about custody anymore—the children are officially under my care now. If Anthony wants visitation rights, he’ll have to come to them.
“Mom, you coming?” Archie’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I quicken my pace to catch up, mustering a brighter tone. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
I step inside, chilled air rushing to meet me, carrying scents of cold metal and frost.
My gaze lands on Henrik across the rink, bundled skates under one arm. He’s wearing a black knit hat pulled down over his waves, only making his bright blue eyes stand out more. The flannel shirt I sent him two weeks ago strains across his broad chest, hugging muscular arms. His worn jeans sit low on lean hips.
The five o’clock shadow accentuates his chiseled jawline.
Everything about him radiates a rugged masculinity that quickens my pulse. Those stormy blue eyes I could lose myself in for days. That crooked smile makes my knees weak. I don’t know how I never noticed that bad boy charm masked under his good guy persona when we were young. But I’m definitely noticing it now.
My heart does a little dance, a mixture of nerves and excitement fluttering in my chest. Introducing Henrik to Tilly and Archie feels like a significant step, one that’s both thrilling and daunting. What if they don’t like him?
I shake off the nerves as he strides over, confident as ever, with a heart-stopping smile just for me.
Sure, they’ve had long conversations on FaceTime while we were living at his parents’ penthouse, but now this feels more real.
But Tilly shrieks, “Look iz Beefoot!” before pelting herself at him. Henrik drops the skates to catch her, chuckling.
Archie glances my way with a smile. “Your friend is here.”
Inod, hoping I look calmer than I feel. “Remember? He promised to teach you to skate once we got to Kentbury.”
“I like him,” Archie proclaims simply, and, somehow, hearing him say that relaxes all the muscles in my back.
“Kids, this is Henrik.” I will my voice not to shake. “You’ve seen him on videocalls.”
“Hi.” Archie gives a little wave but hangs back shyly.
“He’s my Beefoot!” Tilly announces, arms locked around Henrik’s neck.
Henrik grins, setting Tilly down gently. “Hello, Tilly, Archie. Got skates for everyone.” He crouches to Archie’s level. “Let’s get you ready to hit the ice.”
His warm, welcoming manner seems to put both kids further at ease. I exhale slowly, the knots in my stomach loosening. Maybe this won’t be so nerve-wracking after all.
As Henrik helps them with their skates, Archie’s shyness begins to melt away. He starts telling Henrik about the ski resort. “Uncle Bishop promised to teach me to ski in November,” he says with a wide smile.
Tilly, not to be outdone, chimes in about her plans to make snow angels in our big backyard. But she’s also going to bake cookies with Gigi.
“Gigi?” Henrik arches an eyebrow looking at me.
“Great-grandma Genie,” I respond. “Seems easier to shorten it a little.”
“Smart thinking.”
I stand back a bit, happiness welling inside as I observe the three most important people in my world bonding. I’m content taking things slowly, letting this new chapter unfold organically. Seeing them together like this, laughing and smiling all around, I feel a quiet sense of belonging settling over me.
Henrik eases the kids onto the ice, sticking close in case they wobble. But with skating trainers for balance, they’re naturals—or maybe it’s just the mother in me thinking they’re perfect.
“Good job, Archie,” Henrik encourages, hand hovering protectively behind his back. “You’ve got this.”
Tilly tries pushing off on her own, arms pinwheeling comically. Before she can face-plant, Henrik catches her, chuckling. “Careful there, you little daredevil.”
Tilly giggles gleefully. “Zee me skading, Beefoot?”
“I sure did. You’re doing awesome,” Henrik encourages.
