CARTER
IF I WERE to add up all the hours, I’m certain I’ve spent more of my life in arenas than in any other place, including my own home, or the one I grew up in. They’re not new to me, the smell, the noise, the excitement that races up my spine every time I set foot in one.
But this, kids dashing around, the smell of freshly baked cookies at the snack bar, the strong coffees every parent clings to to get them through another morning at the rink…well, it’s not new to me, either, but it’s sure as hell not something I’ve experienced in a while.
Being here brings with it a flood of happy memories, years I spent in rinks like this one, where my dad taught me to skate, where my parents cheered me, where they helped me become the person I am today by helping me follow my dreams.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone’s blatant stare, the way they nudge the person next to them as I check out the board that tells me which of the four rinks I need to go. Being recognized at a place like this on a Saturday morning was always going to be inevitable, but this game isn’t about me, so I tug my toque down a little farther and adjust the scarf around my neck as I make my way to the yellow rink.
A shiver shakes my spine at the sharp bite of the rink as I push through a set of swinging doors. Stepping up to the plexiglass in one corner, I smile at the girls zipping around the ice, ponytails flying out behind them. My heart cracks wide open when I spot Olivia standing in the doorway of the bench, talking animatedly to a girl who on skates isn’t that far off in height from her, regardless of this being the eight-and-under league.
“Well, I’ll be fucking damned. Carter Beckett, slumming it at the local rink.”
Twisting, I meet the gaze of the man who’s sidled up next to me. He’s tall, but shorter than me. Broad, but not as broad as me. With dark brown hair and eyes that match, paired with a smirk that tells me he’s been waiting for this day for a while now, just not in the way most people do.
I note the baby strapped to his chest, gnawing on a silicone hockey skate. He’s got a glob of drool dangling from his chin, coating his dad’s jacket. “Should you be swearing in front of your kid? Doesn’t seem like a very good impression to set for little Jem.”
I enjoy the surprise that paints his face when he realizes I know exactly who he is, but how could I not? He looks remarkably like Olivia except—
“Damnit, she really does look like me, doesn’t she?”
“Except—”
“Except I have a kid strapped to my chest instead of a pair of tits?”
“I was gonna say the height difference, but sure, we’ll go with that.” Olivia’s tits are perfect, but I feel like he wouldn’t appreciate that elaboration.
“What are you doing here?” Jeremy asks, looking me over with disdain. I’m pretty sure he’s hellbent on not liking me. “Ollie didn’t say you were coming.”
“She doesn’t know. I’m not supposed to come to any games.”
“And you came anyway?”
“Mhmm.” I do what I want, clearly. Olivia knows that but her brother might not. “Caught an early flight back.”
“You paid for your own flight back instead of flying with the team? Why would you do that?”
Because I’m rich and I can? “Because I wanted to see your sister coach and watch your daughter play. Ollie said Alannah wanted me to come to a game.” All things I’ve practiced saying for when Olivia reams me out for coming.
I turn back to the ice where Olivia’s still talking to that brown-haired girl. Laughing, she grips her cage and gives it a little shake.
“Which one’s your daughter?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I know.
Jeremy points at Olivia and the brunette. “The one who won’t leave her side.”
She throws her arms around Olivia’s middle, hugging her tight, before Olivia ushers her onto the ice with a little pat on her bum.
Alannah’s eyes coast across the stands, likely looking for her parents, and when they settle on Jeremy, her face lights up and she starts waving.
And then she sees me.
Her stick clatters to the ground and her jaw hangs as she stands there, staring. And then shrieking. She’s shrieking and I’m laughing. She jumps up and down on her skates before rushing back to the bench and crushing Olivia in another hug that nearly knocks her on her ass.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Auntie Ollie,” I hear her shouting from here, and Olivia’s fucking lost, looking from Alannah to the ice, to the stands, to her brother, to…
Me.
I lift my gloved hand and give my fingers a wiggle. Her face ignites with the most brilliant, cheek-splitting beam.
“Damn,” Jeremy mutters. “Was totally counting on her being pissed at you for showing up unannounced.”
Before I can agree, Alannah whips across the ice, leaps into midair, and slams her lanky body against the glass in front of me.
“I’m gonna score a goal for you!” she shrieks. “I can’t wait for you to see!”
“What about me?” Jeremy asks. “You gonna score one for your old man?”
Alannah scoffs. “Get lost, Dad. There’s a new man in town.”
Jeremy swears under his breath before gesturing toward the stands. “Well, come on. My wife refuses to stand, and she’s had her panties in a knot since she saw you walk in here.”
Olivia’s team crushes the other. It gets so bad that she has to tell the girls to ease up halfway through the second period. Alannah scores two goals and gets an assist, and like she’s got my DNA, she points at me after both goals before winding up her arm and pretending her hockey stick is a guitar and she’s rocking out to an insane solo. Her mom, Kristin, is mortified, burying her face in her hands, and Jeremy and I battle for the loudest adult in the stands.
I win, obviously, but Jeremy will try to tell you differently. Maybe that’s why when the girls exit the change room together, we elbow each other out of the way, trying to be the first one to get to them. I win again. Obviously.
Olivia’s nose scrunches with her smile before she attaches herself to me. “You’re here, and I’m not even mad about it.”
“Does that mean I get to do more stuff I’m not allowed to do?” For example, there’s this hole that I—
“No.”
Damnit.
Hooking a finger under her chin, I tip her face up to mine for a soft kiss, ignoring the gagging noise her brother makes. I’ve missed these lips so much it’s ridiculous. “I missed you, pip-squeak.”
“Hey.” The little girl at Olivia’s side gives me a half wave before leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, like this here is no big deal. She flicks her head up in a nod. “Hi. What’s up? I’m Alannah. You can call me Lana. Or Lanny. Or Al. Or Allie. Or just…” She lifts a lazy shoulder and lets it fall. “Alannah.”
I don’t have a chance to respond before her small fists are at her mouth, barely covering the shrieking burst of laughter flying from her throat. She launches herself at me, gangly limbs wrapping around my body.
Chuckling, I hold her tight. “You kicked some serious ass out there, Lanny. Oh shit. Am I allowed to say ass? Oh shit. I said shit. Shit, I said it again.” Well, this is going swimmingly.
“Daddy says bad words all the time.” Alannah slides down my body and throws her arms around her parents, kissing her brother on the cheek. “Sometimes Mommy makes him go down to the basement for a time-out and then he has to put money in the swear jar. Then Mommy uses that money to buy new shoes and the fancy wine.”
My gaze slides to Kristin. “How much money do I owe the swear jar?”
“Four swears equals four dollars.” She holds out her hand, curling her fingers into her palm. “Pay up, buddy. Mama needs the fancy wine.”
I slap a ten in her hand and tell her to keep the change, because I’ll probably owe more by the end of this day.
Alannah rummages through the messenger bag hanging off Olivia’s shoulder, coming out with a Sharpie. “Can you sign my stick?”
“Can I sign your stick?” I shake my head as I scrawl my name over the taped blade. “Dude, I should be asking you to sign mine after the way you played.”
“Dude.” Alannah lets out a puff of giggles, extra anxious as she swoons back onto Olivia, who lets out an oomph as she’s forced to hold her niece up. “Carter Beckett just called me dude.”
I flash her a wink. “What are you guys up to now? Can I take everyone to lunch?”
“Yes! I’m having lunch with a superstar, I’m having lunch with a superstar,” she sings, doing some sort of weird dance. Flossing, I think it’s called?
“Oh, well, we have that thing…” Jeremy scratches his head.
Kristin slaps his hand away. “We have no thing. Don’t pretend like you aren’t fangirling hard right now at the thought of having lunch with him. You can’t wait to text all your friends.” She smiles at me. “We’d love to have lunch. Thank you so much, Carter.”
“Where are we going?” Alannah asks as I sling my arm around her shoulders and head for the parking lot.
“Well, what’s your favorite food?”
“Pizza and chicken wings, dude!”
“Dude.” I drop my head back with a groan. “We’re gonna be best friends.”
“Can I ride with you, Carter?”
“Alannah,” Jeremy sighs. “No. He wants space, I’m sure.”
My shoulders pop up and down. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Please, please, please,” she begs her dad, gripping his coat, giving him a shake.
“Fine. But you have to take your booster seat.”
“I’m almost eight.” Alannah huffs, crossing her arms and popping her hip out, real Attitude-y Judy. “Car seats are for babies.”
“And when you’re eight, you can ditch the booster.” He shoves it into my chest with a grin, as if I have any fucking clue how to install this thing. “But for now, you’re still my ittle-wittle baby.”
Olivia laughs at the face I’m making, taking the seat from me and clipping it into my backseat. “You’re an angel,” she whispers, kissing me on the cheek. “I came with them, so I can ride with you, but my bag for the weekend is still at home.”
“Perfect.” Because I’m slightly terrified to be alone with a child. I don’t know if I can be trusted with a little person’s life.
I help Olivia into the front seat, leaning over her to click her seat belt in place, which is unnecessary because she’s an adult and all. It’s an excuse to get close enough to smell her. And she smells delicious, like fresh-baked banana bread, same as always.
“I wanna eat you up,” I murmur in her ear. “We’ll pick up your bag after lunch, hot stuff.”
“Hot stuff.” Alannah giggles from the backseat. “Auntie Ollie, I’m dude and you’re hot stuff. Carter’s so funny.”
Forty-five minutes later, I’m six pieces deep in one of the three pizzas at our table, I’ve lost count of how many wings I’ve eaten, and I’m highly impressed at the way Alannah tries her damnedest to match me bite for bite.
“Holy cow.” She licks her fingers before placing both hands on her stomach. “You can really eat.”
I look at the pile of chicken wing bones in front of her. “So can you.”
“Yeah, but I just finished a killer hockey game, worked my butt off, and scored two goals. What’s your excuse?”
“My excuse is I just watched Auntie Ollie coach hockey and now I need to devour something.”
Olivia’s boney little elbow gets right up in my ribs, making me keel over with a grunt. Kristin snickers from across the table and Jeremy drags two hands down his face.
Alannah scrunches her nose up. “Huh? I don’t get it.”
“I’m a big boy who needs all the food he can get.”
“Yeah, you’re huge! Auntie Ollie’s a little baby pip-squeak compared to you!” She gives Olivia a pitying smile. “No offense. You have to be careful you don’t crush her when you hug her, Carter.”
Yes, when I hug her…
“Can you hold him?” Kristin asks Jeremy, passing baby Jem off as she stands. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure,” he replies, but the second that baby is in his grasp, he stands, leans over the table, and plops him into my unsuspecting arms.
It’s a fucking miracle I don’t shriek.
I mean, a baby? I don’t know what the hell to do with a baby.
I hold the little chunker at arm’s length. He’s still gnawing on that damn hockey skate, drool dripping down his chubby arm. He blinks up at me with these huge blue eyes, gurgles, and giggles.
“Oh shit,” I whisper, chuckling. “You’re kinda cute, little buddy.”
Olivia’s elbow hits the table, cheek resting in her palm as she shoots me her wide, dopey grin, so beautiful.
“Do we look cute?” I ask, snuggling Jem into my side. He presses his wet mouth to my cheek in something like a super-sloppy raspberry.
“So cute.” It’s more sigh than words as her chest deflates.
“Oh. My. God.” It’s Kristin, back from the bathroom. Well, not fully back. She’s two tables away, feet glued to the floor while she flaps at the air. She dashes over and whips her phone out of her purse. “Can I take a picture?”
I nod as Alannah shoots up from her seat and rushes around the table, screaming about how she needs to be in the picture. When she joins us, she wraps her arms around me and Jem, gluing her cheek to mine.
Kristin takes about a hundred pictures before she waves Olivia in, and then Jeremy, who comes begrudgingly, but not really. Then she asks the waiter to take a picture of us all, except she calls us her family and I’m part of it. Olivia blushes and I kiss her warm cheek before smiling once more at the camera.
Because fuck yeah, this girl is my family.
“We should have a sleepover,” Alannah says as we head out to the parking lot. “One day, maybe. Like, if you wanted to. I know how to make pancakes.” She beams up at me as her dad takes her booster seat out of the back. “We can crush up Oreos in the batter. Auntie Ollie says they’re your favorite cookie, and they’re mine too.”
“Deal. You make Oreo pancakes and I’ll make Oreo brownies. We’ll have an Oreo-themed slumber party.”
Her face shines like a freaking lighthouse. “Really?”
“Really-really. I’ll check my schedule and we’ll pick a day.”
“You’re the best,” she tells me, amping up my ego as she crushes me in a squeezing hug.
“Seriously, you’re a saint,” Olivia says to me two minutes later when we’re packed into the car, finally alone for the first time in way too long. “You were amazing with her. And don’t worry about the slumber party. I’ll get you out of that.”
“What? Fuck no! Oreo-themed slumber party? That’s like my dream come true, right after you.”
“You want to babysit my niece?”
“Fuck yeah. She’s fun as hell. We’ll take Jem too.” Lacing my fingers through hers, I bring her hand to my lips, sweeping a kiss across her knuckles. “I loved today. I’m glad I got to meet your family.”
“Me too. Thank you, Carter.”
“But I can’t wait to be alone with you.”
“Mmm.” She snuggles up to my arm. “Big plans?”
“Huge plans. And by huge, I mean my dick.”
“Trust me, I knew exactly what you meant.”
“Destroying your little baby pip-squeak body,” I add, using Alannah’s words from earlier.
And that’s exactly what I start doing the second we walk through the door, throwing Olivia over my shoulder and carting her up the stairs.
“I’m gonna lick every damn inch of this flawless body,” I whisper against her lips as I start working on her jeans. My mouth closes over her hip bone, enjoying the way her fingers sink into my hair, scratching at my scalp as I leave my mark on her.
Pushing her backward until her ass hits the bed, I fall to my knees. With her foot in my hand, I start nibbling on her ankle, working my way up the inside of her leg nice and slow, driving her crazy, until she’s wrapping her legs around my head and begging me to lick her.
“Greedy girl.” I kiss the wet spot in the center of her panties. “Look; you’re already wet.”
“Carter.” It’s a warning, a demand. “Take them off and get to work.”
I laugh against the apex of her thigh. “I love getting you worked up, bossy girl.”
Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of the pale blue satin, I start inching them down her legs. I don’t pause when my phone starts ringing on the bedside table, because I’ve been craving this fix for six fucking days and I’m gonna get it.
“Carter.” Olivia’s moan is a breathy combination of desire and irritation, because that phone won’t fucking stop, and she starts reaching for it.
“Leave it.”
“But what if—”
“Leave it,” I growl, ripping her panties off.
Her head falls back with a gasp when the tip of my tongue flicks out over that taut, pink bud. “Ohhh, yes.”
And my phone rings again.
“For fuck’s sake.” Tearing myself away from the only place I want to be, I grab my phone, not bothering to check the name first. “What?”
“Carter? I…I’m sorry.”
I sink to the floor, running a hand through my hair at the broken, shaky voice on the other end. “Adam? What’s wrong, buddy?”
“I just…I just got home.” Adam sniffles and my heart races.
“And?”
“And I…Courtney was…she was…” His voice cracks as he whispers out a barely audible fuck. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know who to call. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can drive, but I can’t stay here. I need to get the hell out.” Each word comes out faster than the last until it sounds like he’s on the verge of a panic attack.
“Okay, man, take a breath.” I wait until I hear that staggered inhale. “Tell me what happened.”
“I caught Courtney in bed with someone else.”
