Page 33 of Blue Lines and Lullabies

The look on Gabe’s face is priceless. I swear, if I let him, he’d carry Mackenzie around the ice a laThe Lion King, and expect everyone to singCircle of Life. The pride emanating from this man is spectacular. But then I see his teammates, including my brother, and they’re all ready to fawn over little Miss Mackenzie in her adorable little number nine jersey.

Growing up with Grant, I’m well aware of how hockey teams become family, but I’ve never felt part of one … until now. Each guy makes eye contact with me, and the ones I’ve met, Jax, Luca, and Levi, speak to me through the glass. When it comes to my brother, he winks at me. “Motherhood looks good on you, Cass.”

“What?” I gasp.

“You heard me. You’re beaming, little sister.” He knocks twice on the glass, then pushes off the wall and skates back over to the bench, leaving only Gabe at the wall.

“Hi,” he says with a lopsided grin.

“Hi,” I giggle.

He motions for me to show him Mackenzie in her jersey, then swivels his hand around to have me turn. I do, but keep my eyes on him. I don’t miss the darkening of his gaze as he stares at his number on my back. “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, Firecracker.”

“Guess you’ll have to tell me if it’s hotter when I’m in only this when you get home tonight,” I tell him sassily.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he casts his eyes upward. When his eyes meet mine again, he says, “If you stay the entire game, ask one of the wives to take you down to the locker room. I’ll shower as fast as I can.”

I nod, then blush as Gabe’s intense eyes don’t falter. Removing a glove, he puts his hand against the glass and motions for me to do the same. I cover his hand with mine, then quickly grab Mackenzie’s hand and put hers against his. Her tiny hand against his massive one is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Gabe’s responding grin is massive, but I’m shocked at what he says next.

“I love you,” he blurts out, then pushes off the ice and skates away backward. Gabe gives me a soft smile and a wink before turning to exit the ice. I’m silent, completely ill-equipped to process what he said. He loves me? No, he meant Mackenzie. He had to. Right? We’ve only been dating — or whatever this is — for all of twenty-four hours. Granted, we met a few months ago, but can he really mean it?

And why do I feel like shouting it right back to him?

This is insanity. I barely know Gabe.

But I know he brings me a peace I didn’t know I craved. And his daughter is already such an integral part of my soul. I’ve always been the ‘live out loud’ kind of person. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I’ve blurted out feelings within a few weeks of dating almost every guy I’ve ever been with.

So why am I second-guessing my feelings now? Am I finally acting mature in a relationship, or is this the actual first time I’m in love, and I want to ensure it sticks? I settle into my seat as both teams exit the ice, my thoughts fully centered on the hot right winger who seems to have stolen my heart without me even knowing it.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve fully engaged in a hockey game. Even when Grant traveled to Seattle, I typically couldn’t find the time to attend his games. I forgot how I can get engrossed in the action. The crowd, which was loud before, has taken it up a notch. As the end of the first period nears, I can tell Mackenzie is getting restless. There’s no way the noise-canceling headphones are keeping this racket out of her sensitive ears. I decide during the break, I’ll go find the suite where the other wives and girlfriends tend to watch the games.

I giggle gleefully to myself. I’m an NHL WAG. That’s something I never thought I’d say.

The game has been tense, with no goals so far, and there is a clear battle of defenses. According to my brother, Denver and San Francisco have never played well together. With only thirty seconds left in the first period, Denver has a power play, and I shout when I see that Gabe has a breakaway. I immediately stand and watch, my breath held tightly in my chest, as he fakes to the left, then shoots from the right. The red light above the net shines brightly as the arena erupts. Gabe is swarmed by his teammates, then immediately skates across the ice to stand in front of me. His grin is contagious as he stares at the two of us and mouths, “That was for you, Firecracker.”

Mackenzie finally lets it be known that she’s done with the noise and opens her mouth to scream. Gabe points up in the direction of the suites, and I nod. He blows a kiss before jumping over the boards by the bench.

Climbing the stairs, I’m immediately met by Shepherd, the gentleman from before.

“How did you know I was coming?” I ask when we get behind the stands.

“Mr. Dawson called to tell me you were ready to head up to the suite,” he answers.

“They have a phone at the bench? Could you even hear him?” I ask incredulously.

Shepherd chuckles. “I’ve been doing this a long time, ma’am. I can understand the players most of the time.”

As we board an elevator to the suites, I’m suddenly incredibly anxious. I don’t know any of these women. They might be standoffish or obnoxious. Most of the women from Grant’s time in high school and college treated me pretty abysmally in private but were nice to my face in front of Grant. I really don’t know what to expect.

As soon as Shepherd ushers me into the suite, a woman is waiting for me.

“Cassie?” she asks, a southern accent appearing in my name. She’s quite a bit shorter than me, with curly blonde hair, and she looks to be newly pregnant. One hand cups her tiny baby bump as she waits for me to answer.

“Hi, yes, I’m Cassie,” I say, extending a hand to her.

She giggles. “Girl, I’m from Georgia. I’m a hugger.”

I’m engulfed in a hug, and I don’t even know this girl’s name. “And you are?”

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