Page 9 of Puck Me at Midnight

Simon chimes in, his grin wicked. “You’ve got to admit, man, it’s a good look on you. The kids, the nanny…the whole package.”

I shake my head, refusing to take the bait. “She’s great with the boys. That’s all there is to it.”

“Sure, sure,” Ryan says, winking. “That’s all there is to it.”

The guys laugh, and I shove my gear into my bag, ignoring them. They don’t know how complicated it is, how much I’ve been wrestling with my feelings. Emma’s not just great with the boys; she’s incredible. But the timing is wrong. The stakes are too high. I can’t afford to mess this up—not for me, and definitely not for the boys.

After the game, the team usually separates into two groups. The single guys who are looking to party and the family guys who head out to spend time with their wives and kids. I’m joining the second group for the first time.

We head to their usual spot, a family-friendly pub. Tonight, Emma and the boys are part of that dynamic, and seeing them here, fitting in so seamlessly, makes me sweat. I need to keep these two parts of my life separate, but how am I going to do that without coming across like an asshole?

Emma’s sitting with the other wives—Paisley, Tilly, Avery, and Tuesday. The boys are at the kids’ table, crayons and chicken fingers keeping them entertained. From my spot near the bar, I watch Emma laugh at something Paisley says, her cheeks flushing a little as she shakes her head.

I’m halfway through a beer when Duke sidles up next to me. “You’re staring, man. Might want to reel that in.”

“I’m not staring,” I mutter, taking another sip.

“Sure you’re not.” He claps me on the shoulder, grinning. “Just don’t screw it up, okay? She’s good for you and the boys.”

I don’t respond, mostly because he’s right. And that’s exactly why I’m trying so hard to keep my distance.

“So,” Tilly says, dragging out the word as she leans toward Emma. “What’s it like living with Sexy Spike?”

Emma nearly chokes on her drink, her eyes wide as she looks over at me. “I…what?”

The other women burst into laughter, and I can see the tips of Emma’s ears turning red. She must realize I can hear their conversation because Tilly isn’t being quiet. I have to admit that I’m more than curious about her answer.

“Come on,” Paisley teases. “He’s hot, and you know it.”

Emma shakes her head, laughing nervously. “He’s great with the boys. That’s what matters.”

“Uh-huh,” Avery says, smirking. “Deflect all you want, but we see the way he looks at you.”

“And the way you look at him,” Tuesday adds with a wink.

Emma’s laugh is a little louder this time, clearly an attempt to cover her embarrassment. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Tilly says, her grin mischievous. “But if you ever need a night off, I’d be happy to babysit the boys. Give you a chance to, you know, have some fun.”

That’s my cue, and I say, “That’s a great idea. Let’s plan it for a night we don’t have a game. Duke can help wrangle the little guys.”

Tilly spins to look at me, her smile widening. “Deal.”

Emma’s eyes narrow slightly like she’s trying to figure out what was just agreed to. Before she can overthink it, I lean down, my mouth close to her ear.

“That way, I can take you out for a proper date,” I whisper.

Her eyes snap to mine, wide and uncertain, but there’s a spark there, too. A flicker of something that makes my pulse kick up a notch.

The conversation around us moves on, but Emma stays quiet, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her napkin. I don’t push. We’ve got time to figure this out. And for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to what’s next. So much for trying to stay focused on the game instead of the girl.

Chapter Eight

Emma

Spike looks so good it should be illegal. A dark button-up that stretches across his broad chest in a way that… well, let’s just say it’s distracting. The boys are at Duke and Tilly’s house, and she’s already sent Spike an update with a picture of them, each with a huge bowl of ice cream.

“You clean up nice,” I manage, feeling heat creep up my neck. His cologne, something warm and woodsy, fills the air between us as he offers me his arm.

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