Page 49 of Lock 'em Down

“Nope. Food is always seen as a gesture of goodwill.”

I consider that and have to agree. I narrow my eyes at Mom. “You’re secretly an evil genius, aren’t you?”

“No secret part about it,” she agrees, tipping her head back as she drops a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “My success ratings can’t be beat. I’m three for three.”

I laugh at her reference to King, Jake, and Jensen’s flourishing romances. “I’m already married.”

“And you want to stay that way,” she reminds me.

“You’ll have a harder time with Annie,” I warn her.

“I have different methods for each of my children,” she scolds me.

I sigh. “We were invited to dinner next weekend.”

“We?”

“Me and Cami and you. One of my teammates who recently retired?—”

“Axel Daire,” Mom supplies, proving she follows all of her kids’ hockey careers the same way she follows Dad’s junior team.

“Correct. He and his wife invited us and a few other of my teammates for dinner.”

“They know about Cami?”

I nod.

Mom smiles. “They’re trying to welcome her.”

“They’re good guys.”

“You’re lucky,” she says, relaxing in her chair. “If Cami finds her social circle here, she’ll feel more comfortable in Knoxville. She’ll feel more confident in her relationship with you. But Leif, this is a big change for her.”

“Mom, I got married,” I remind her.

She flicks her wrist at me. “Yeah, but nothing phases you the way it does most people. And Cami…” She shakes her head.

“What?”

“Something happened. I don’t know what, but Cheryl’s hinted at enough to have my Mom sense kicking in.”

I frown, thinking about Cami mentioning her bad breakup from three years ago. It’s strange she wouldn’t have had any serious relationships since, isn’t it?

“Something banana bread can’t fix?” I aim to keep the conversation light because I don’t want to mentally spiral when I don’t have facts. When I’m not learning things about Cami from Cami.

Mom smiles gently. “Be patient with her, Leif. There’s an extra loaf on the countertop for you to bring her.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I roll my neck and stare out over the expanse of lawn. It’s nearly dusk and the sky is a brilliant mix of pinks and purples. A cotton-candy sky, my brother Tanner used to call it when he was a kid.

“I’m going to call your father,” Mom says, standing from her chair.

“He’s at camp this week, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Mom says, patting the top of my head. “In Michigan.”

“Tell him hello for me. And that I’ve got some good memes I’ll be sending his way.”

Mom chuckles. “I will.”

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