Page 244 of Waiting Game

My hand tightensin Cole’s as we walk away from the burial site where Lacey Kerrigan was laid to rest.

Quite unintentionally, this was my first public outing as Cole’s girlfriend and the press have been horrifyingly rabid.

I only decided to come because Cole, upon learning the news of Lacey’s passing, had looked so damn sad that I didn’t want him to deal with this by himself.

When he stops in front of the grieving husband, Cole gently rubs his shoulder and softly pats the baby in Ruben’s arms. “I’m so sorry, Ruben. I wish you and London had gotten more time with her.”

He stares blindly at Cole, then his features crumple and he lifts his hand to shield his expression. Those puffy eyes tell a tale of their own. “Me fucking too.” There’s a slight hesitation. Then, he adds, “Cole.”

“Did you manage to figure out how things are going to…”

He breaks off but Ruben seems to know what he’s talking about. “Yeah. Thank you. For suggesting the leave. At least I was there with her. Focused on her. Not thinking about fucking hockey at the end.”

“Anything I can do?—”

“—wecan do,” I correct.

Cole nods and shoots me a grateful smile. “—let us know.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the offer.” Ruben swallows. “It’s…” His breath stutters in and out. “…really hard.”

The understatement has me shifting closer to him. “It’s so easy to want to give up, Ruben. But London’s the reason you have to keep going.”

“I don’t even know how to keep myself in line, never mind her.” He closes his eyes. “I want to go to sleep and wake up. This has to be a bad dream.” The sob that’s torn from him is so much worse because London has no idea what’s going on. She’s gurgling and happy and lost to her surroundings.

Maybe that’s why I start crying too.

This guy doesn’t even know my name, but it doesn’t stop me from lifting an arm and holding him as best I can.

Cole moves into his other side and draws Ruben into a group hug.

“I wish there were something we could do to make this better,” I whisper rawly. “But we’re here for you. I swear. Anything you need?—”

Ruben sags against Cole, who takes his weight. “My old man told me to grow a pair. I?—”

“You don’t listen to him,” I grind out.

“Ignore that jerk,” Cole agrees, clapping Ruben’s back. “You take whatever time you need to get through this. We’re waiting for you on the other side, you hear me?”

Slowly, we shift aside, letting him straighten of his own accord without erasing our support.

“T-Thanks,” he rasps, leaning his head against London’s. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

Gently, I stroke a finger over London’s cheek before Cole tugs on my other hand and encourages us to shuffle forward. As soon as we do, there’s a veritable firestorm of camera flashes.

When we make it into the car, finally free from the press as Burrows puts the pedal to the metal, I ask, “Would you do something for me?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I made an appointment at a tattoo parlor before I knew we’d be attending Lacey Kerrigan’s funeral… Would you come with me?”

His smile is sad. “Yeah. Why not?”

I squeeze his fingers for the ten millionth time today and settle in for the ride after I call out, “Burrows, can you take us to Indiana Ink in Verona, please?”

“Of course, Mia.”

The leather seat squeaks as Cole turns to me. “You know Indy?”

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