Page 16 of Sporting Goods

“Thanks again. This was really nice of you, are you sure I can’t pay you for today?”

He shot a warning look. “Don’t make me get into it with you again.”

“How’s the sale going?” I grinned.

“We’re slammed today, thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I heard a grunt from him, but it was followed with a smile. I turned my focus back to Jax then let it linger to the other side of the extended oval rink. Youth hockey practice.

Guess I’ll be heading over there after this…

God this wasn’t going to be easy.

It would have been if I were in a different town. I wondered if the coaches over on that end would know who Jax’s father was.

“So what’s your issue?” Logan snapped me out of my thoughts and I’d wondered if I said anything out loud.

“My issue?”

“With hockey.”

“I don’t have an issue.”

“You tried that one already. Let’s go for the real reason you’re such a hater.”

My mouth dropped. “Okay. I don’t know you. So I’ll give you close to the real reason.”

“I’ll take it.”

I inhaled a deep breath. “It’s a dangerous sport. Regardless of the safety precautions they have in place now. And it’s bulky and cold and he could lose his teeth and…I don’t want him ending up like his father,” I admitted.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“And that’s as far as it will go,” I replied stubbornly.

He rubbed his left arm. “Well, your kid’s really good. And he tied his skates like a pro.”

“I tied his skates.” I felt the need to add.

“Really?”

“What, women can’t tie skates?”

“No it was just really well done.”

I didn’t bother telling him that I used to teach professional hockey players how to correctly tie their skates. I wondered if it warranted a reply at all then I caught him wince a little and touch his arm again. I watched him do it at least twice on the ice.

“Something wrong with your arm?”

He dropped his hand. “No.” his eyes flashed. “It’s fine. It’s just been a while since I had a workout.”

That was a lie. Maybe another woman would believe he woke up jacked and fit, butthiswoman knew this took upkeep. This body—his perfectly toned and shaped in every direction body was the result of a religiously followed routine workout.

I circled him and placed both my hands on his shoulder. It was rock hard but no sign of tension or trauma. He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. I ignored the intensity of his glare and focused on the arm. My fingers slipped on his bare bicep and I thought I felt something.

“Could you turn your palm up?”

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