Page 82 of Icebound Hearts

Sawyer nods at the front door where he dropped his gear bag on the way back into the kitchen. “Ready to go.”

“Keys?”

“I knew I was forgetting something. See? This is why we have the list, buddy,” Sawyer tells Jake, and he giggles as Sawyer goes fishing for his keys. He normally keeps them in a bowl by the front door, but he doesn’t find them there after rummaging around in the bowl for several seconds.

But then Jake melts down into uncontrollable giggles, so Sawyer turns to give him a knowing look. Jake laughs one lasttime as he lifts one side of his little behind and pulls out his dad’s keys to jangle them.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you’re trouble,” Sawyer tells Jake.

He takes the keys, then attacks Jake’s side with his fingers, tickling him until he’s full-on cackling and squirming to get away. But Sawyer hoists him up and turns him upside down by his ankles, making Jake laugh even harder, and gives him a couple of gentle play shakes.

“Anything else hiding in those pockets we need to shake loose?” Sawyer asks over Jake’s peals of laughter. “Nope, guess that’s everything.”

Sawyer spins Jake right side up and sets him back in his chair at the kitchen table. Jake’s face is flushed bright red from all the blood that rushed to it, but he’s beaming and laughs again when Sawyer ruffles his hair. Sawyer really is such a great dad to Jake, so patient and playful, and seeing the love they have for each other like this never gets old.

“Alright, now that my little prankster has played his tricks, I’d better get going before I’m late,” Sawyer says.

He approaches me, and I feel myself tense as he gets closer until he catches himself, freezes, and lets his hand fall. With his back to Jake, he fixes me with a heated look, letting his expression say everything he can’t.

“I, uh, I’ll see you two later.”

“Yeah. Have a good practice,” I say, my voice coming out mousy because I’m flustered. Sawyer spins and strides back to Jake to plant a kiss on top of his head.

“Be good for Ms. Violet.”

“He always is,” I say, and Jake beams at me.

After Sawyer leaves, I finish getting Jake breakfast, then take him to school. I spend the day doing some easy chores aroundthe house—and, let’s be honest, daydreaming about Sawyer—and then I pick Jake up from school and bring him home.

At sunset, I chase the little boy out to my car to go to the arena. He’s wearing a little jersey with his dad’s number on it, and he practically leaps into my car when I open the door. He’s been on pins and needles ever since he got home from school.

He loves watching his dad play hockey, but he doesn’t get to go to Sawyer’s night games very often, so we spent the late afternoon researching the opposition, since Jake couldn’t stop talking about it.

The St. Louis Cyclones have been doing pretty well this season, but I don’t think they stand a chance against the Aces tonight. We have home team advantage, and if Sawyer plays even half as well as he did the last time Jake and I watched him play, then it’s going to be a shutout.

The players are on the ice warming up by the time we get to the arena, and I glance around quickly, spotting Callie and Becca near the glass, along with a few of the other WAGs. We head toward them, Jake tugging eagerly on my hand.

“Violet!” Callie calls, waving at us. She’s wearing a jersey with Reese’s number on it, and she kneels to Jake’s level as we approach. “Hi, Jake. Are you excited for the game tonight?”

“I can’t wait!” he says, his body practically vibrating with excitement.

“Awesome. I’m glad you’re here to cheer our guys on.” She raises her hand for a high five, and Jake slaps his palm against hers. “There we go! That’s exactly the kind of enthusiasm we need. We’ve gotta be the best, loudest fans in the stands.”

Jake nods enthusiastically, and she ruffles his hair as she rises to her feet again. We exchange hugs, and I hug Becca too.

“Glad to see you survived the club the other night,” Becca says quietly in my ear when we part. “Sawyer didn’t seem too happy.”

“He was just worried about me.”

Callie must have overheard, because she smiles softly and leans in to bump her shoulder against mine. “Typical protective hockey player, huh?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah, Reese has the same kind of protective streak. I’m sure you know that. I’m actually glad Sawyer saved me from myself that night. I’m sure I would’ve felt much worse the next day if he hadn’t.”

“We should’ve kept better tabs on how much you were drinking,” Becca says, looking a bit guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine!” I wave a hand. “That’s on me. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out like that, I didn’t realize how much of a lightweight I had become.”

“Girl, tell me about it,” Callie says, and we all laugh.

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