Page 86 of Cross Check Hearts

His mom’s gaze drifts off to the ice to watch Declan skating with one of the kids. Surprising no one, he’s a complete natural with kids, and they seem to love him.

My heart does a little flip when I realize that he’s not just skating with anyone—he’s skating with a little girl in a sparkly pink helmet who looks absolutely thrilled to be on the ice with him. It’s clear that she’s having a blast, which makes me smile. He tends to have that effect on people.

When my eyes float back to his mom, her smile has faded away, but I notice it slowly coming back, almost like she’s working through some private thought in her head. Declan finishes a lap around the ice with the little girl, then drops her back off with her dad before he slides to a stop on the other side of the boards in front of us.

“Thanks for waiting while I hang out with the families. How are you two getting along?” he asks, his eyes darting between us with a hopeful expression. “Having a good chat?”

His mom gives him a warm smile. “Oh, of course. Hannah and I are getting along wonderfully. She’s been telling me all about Denver.”

Declan raises an eyebrow, looking pleasantly surprised. “Really? And what do you think?”

His mother’s eyes warm as she shakes her head and reaches out to put her hand on his forearm with a gentle squeeze.

“I think you might be getting your wish. Maybe those mountains are starting to call my name after all.”

Chapter38

Declan

I can barely believe my ears, but I’m fucking ecstatic to hear the words that just came out of my mother’s mouth. My eyes shoot to Hannah’s, who rewards me with a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the universe. I wasn’t trying to put her up to anything, and I don’t know what she said to my mom to get her to change her mind, but I’m beyond grateful—and all I want to do is plant my lips on Hannah’s soft mouth to show her just how much this means to me.

But I can’t. Not here, not in front of my mother and the rest of the team… and certainly not with Dunaway watching.

Still, when my eyes meet Hannah’s again, something passes between us, an electric current of unspoken promises, but neither of us says anything or makes a move until my mother clears her throat.

“I’m getting a little thirsty, so I think I’m going to go get a soda from the concessions,” she says. “Do either of you want anything?”

“I’m okay, but thanks. And be careful,” I tell her, and she pats my hand affectionately.

“I’m a big girl. I think I can handle the concession stand,” she says and winks at me before she walks away, leaving me alone with Hannah.

My hand instinctively reaches for Hannah’s, but I force myself to stop. The desire to touch her is so overwhelming that it feels like a magnetic pull drawing me toward her. She looks so damn good in my jersey, and I’m so grateful for whatever she said to my mother that it’s easy to forget where we are and how many people are around us.

I’m dying to know what they talked about, because this is a huge shift.

I stick my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her. There will be plenty of time for that later when we’re alone again. “So what did you say to my mom?”

Hannah chuckles and shrugs. “Nothing too special, honestly. She mentioned that you were trying to talk her into moving here, and I told her that it’s because you miss her. And that Denver’s a nice place to live.”

“That’s all it took?” I ask, arching one eyebrow.

“That’s it.”

“Wow. Well, thanks. Seriously. I didn’t think she’d ever say yes, but maybe she just needed someone with a more persuasive tongue.”

Hannah’s lips twitch upward, and she drops her voice to whisper, “And here I thoughtyouwere the one with the persuasive tongue.”

My entire body ignites at her words, heat surging through my veins like wildfire, but I don’t get the chance to say or do anything else before Coach Dunaway’s whistle blares again, reminding me that there are more kids waiting for a trip around the ice.

“Hold that thought,” I tell her with a heated glance, then skate back to the line of kids.

The next hour passes in a blur of small skaters and excited faces. I do my best to give each kid a memorable experience, but my mind keeps drifting back to Hannah watching from the sidelines. Every few minutes, I steal a glance her way, catching her watching me with those gorgeous blue and green eyes that always seem to see right through me.

After half a dozen kids, my body is on autopilot—lift, skate, spin, high-five, repeat—while my thoughts remain firmly fixed on the woman wearing my jersey.

Just as I’m thinking I might be done for the evening, the crowd thins, and I realize a little boy is standing and waiting all by himself. I have no idea where his parents are until a woman with straight black hair skates up next to us. I smile at her, thinking she’s about to introduce her son to me, but instead she jabs a hand out for me to shake.

“Hi, I’m Jessica.”

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