Page 72 of Fated Shot

“I meant hockey. Two more years, and we’ll have all the time in the world together.”

My stomach flips. Does that mean he still thinks we’ll be together two years from now? I try not to dwell on the excitement.

“You’re still young, though. My dad played until he was thirty-three.”

“Your dad was a way better player than me. I’m just happy I’ve got to play as long as I have. I’m twenty-seven and already falling apart.” He points to his now almost entirely faded bruise on his torso.

“Oh yeah, twenty-seven, practically geriatric.” I roll my eyes at him.

“I’m serious, Mia. I always knew there would be an expiry on my career. You make the money while you can and then return to the real world. I know you didn’t want this hockey life for yourself. I promise you, it’s just temporary. I just need you to be patient.”

He’s right. I never wanted this. It’s a lot to handle, the loneliness and constant lack of permanency. Players get traded all the time, and their partners and families are uprooted in an instant. It’s difficult, but for Jack, it’s worth it.

“I can be patient.”

“Good, because I’m not letting you go,” he replies with a smile.

After a morning of talking and cuddles, we settle at the kitchen island, lattes in front of us, enjoying our last bit of time together before he leaves.

“I, uh, got you this,” he says, sliding a key card across the counter.

“What is it?” I ask him, reaching over to see the Maplewood logo embossed.

“I thought maybe, well, since you are always so squished in here during your baking, you could use my kitchen.” He cautiously reads my face. “You don’t have to, but I thought maybe if you wanted to—whatever works best for you.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about renting a kitchen space…” Saying it out loud makes me nervous, but in a good way. “I’m sort of at capacity here, I just think I can grow into—well, I want to expand Cookie & Co.”

I wait for his reply, bracing for the brush-off. I’ve grown accustomed to being dismissed, ready for him to tell me it’s a silly idea.

“No way! Have you found a space yet?” I’m searching for any sense of polite humoring in his tone, but it comes off completely genuine.

“Well, there’s this one spot, just a few blocks away—a commercial kitchen for rent three days a week. It has five ovens, prep space, a packaging station, everything.” The excitement in my stomach is already building.

“That sounds perfect, Wyndham,” he says, smiling at me. “Why aren’t you pulling the trigger?”

“It’s a six-month contract, not to mention a huge investment. What if—” I swallow hard at the thought, refusing to vocalize what I’m really thinking.

“I’m just nervous. I think I’m going to keep saving, build up a bit more of a cushion in case…”

“Can I see it?”

I blink at him. “The space?” He nods.

“Oh yeah, um…” I pull up the listing I’ve had bookmarked on my phone for weeks. Scrolling through each picture with him gets me even more excited. It’d be such an upgrade. I could easily be doing three to four times as many orders as I currently am. That is,ifmy customer base actually grows with me.

“Maybe soon,” I finish, placing my phone back down on the counter. He looks like he’s going to push me on it, but I’m too cowardly to admit my fears. Changing topics, I add, “Guess you should head out, eh?”

Checking the time, a frown crosses his face when he sees.

“Probably.”

Taking the last sip of the latte I made him, he walks over and loads it into the dishwasher. When he returns, he pulls me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head as we rock together.

“I’m gonna miss you, Mia-girl.”

“You’ll be back Friday?” I ask hopefully as he nods. The worst part of the season is the travel. Most of the time growing up, it felt like my mom was a single parent during the year. Never thought this would be a part of my life, too. I guess distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?

He grabs the keycard off the table, handing it to me again.

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