Page 11 of A Match Made In Fall

“That’s awesome,” I say, reaching across the table to shake the boy’s hand. “Stay focused. Keep working even when it gets tough, and don’t slack on your schoolwork.”

The kid frowns, but he nods anyway. “Okay.”

“That sounds like great advice, huh Max?” the father asks with a laugh.

“Yeah,” the kid replies, clearly unamused by the mention of schoolwork.

I’ve been doing this long enough to know what to say when approached with these kind of questions from parents. I quickly sign a mini puck for him and pose for a photo.

The family moves on, and I become so engrossed watching Nick survive the hockey critic that I barely notice Abby approaching with a small group of women. I’m thrilled to see that Isabella is with them.

“Hey, Austin,” Abby says, glancing toward Nick’s table. “What’s happening over there?”

I grin. “Your fiancé is getting a full lesson on how to play goalie.”

Her eyes widen instantly. “Oh no. That’s not good.”

“So far he’s handling it like a champ,” I assure her. “You should be proud.”

Suddenly the guy finally wraps up his lecture and wanders off ready to critique the next player. Nick immediately turns his attention to the family waiting in front of him.

“Ah, looks like he survived,” I say. “I was starting to get worried. He’s come a long way since he got here last season.”

Abby exhales dramatically, her shoulders relaxing. “Thank goodness.”

My attention shifts to Isabella, who’s standing beside Eloise, the café owner, near the end of the table.

“Hey there,” I exclaim. “What happened to the crutches?”

A bright smile spreads across her face. “They are history. I’m free.”

“Congrats. That’s great news.”

She taps the gray boot on her foot. “I upgraded to this very stylish boot instead. I still need to be careful, but at least I’m done with those awful things.”

I laugh softly, but my gaze lingers on her longer than it probably should. She’s just as pretty as I remember from the night we met after the game. Long brown hair falls over her shoulders, framing her face. Her large brown eyes immediately draw me in, and there's something undeniably captivating about the way she carries herself that makes it difficult to look away.

“We’re introducing Isabella to her first North Carolina fall festival,” Abby explains.

“Yes,” Isabella says with a laugh. “My whole family is around here somewhere. Thankfully Abby and Eloise volunteered to show me around.”

“Hey, you,” Nick calls to Abby from his table.

I look over at him with a smirk. “Congratulations on surviving the hockey expert.”

Nick groans loudly. “It took every ounce of self-control I had not to say something that would’ve landed me on the news.”

“I could tell,” I say. “You handled it well.”

Abby walks over and squeezes his shoulder proudly. “I’m impressed. That showed real growth.”

“I know, I’m a new man,” he mumbles.

I laugh before turning back to Isabella.

“So,” I say, gesturing to the merchandise spread across the table, “can I interest you in an autograph? We’ve got mini hockey pucks, programs, photos. It’s only the finest of the Carolina Bears merchandise.”

She laughs. “Sure. Then I won’t have to buy my brother a Christmas present.”