Page 92 of Flashback for the Forward

“As much as it sucks dragging the kids all over God’s creation on my own, I have to agree,” Arizona replied.

Austin made a great heads-up pass to his winger through the neutral zone, and I yelled my approval, shifting to the edge of my seat as he and his teammates cycled the puck expertly, taking quality shots on their opponent’s goalie. One of them bounced off the blocker, and Austin was perfectly placed to cash in on the juicy rebound. A quick flick of his wrist, and the puck went sailing into the net.

I was on my feet in a flash, bringing two fingers to my mouth for an ear-splitting wolf-whistle, while watching Austin celebrate before skating to the bench for fist bumps.

My heart was still racing a million miles an hour when I sat back down, and I fanned my face, suddenly overheated from the rush of adrenaline.

“Whoo, that was awesome,” I breathed out.

“Yeah.” Parental pride shone in Arizona’s blue eyes.

Things settled down again; the teams were so evenly matched that scoring opportunities were few and far between.

Crew leaned back to speak to Arizona. “So, is it generally frowned upon to hook up with single moms at these things?”

“Crew!” I hissed, horrified, slapping his knee.

Undeterred, he kept going, “Because there’s a hot little redhead down front who keeps eyeing me like she wants to sink her teeth into me, and I’m inclined to let her.”

Arizona’s lashes lowered to fan her cheeks, and she pulled in a centering breath, saying on the exhale, “Unless you’re ready to step in and become one of these boys’ new stepdaddy, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself this weekend.”

He pouted, grumbling, “Jagger would let me do it.”

“Jagger’s an idiot,” she retorted. “It’s a bad idea. Don’t do it.”

Releasing a beleaguering sigh, Crew said, “Fine. I’ll keep it in my pants. But let the record show I’m not happy about it. It’s been a while since I got any action, and I’m worried that it’s true what they say about losing it if you don’t use it.”

Arizona palmed her face and groaned. “Oh my God. Is it too much to ask to watch a hockey game in peace?”

I nudged Crew with an elbow. “Shut your trap before she starts to regret letting us tag along.”

“All right, I’ll be as silent as a church mouse.” He mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

Climbing up a row, I sat down beside Arizona and whispered, “I give it five minutes. The man loves the sound of his voice too much to stay quiet for long.”

Her laughter had Crew whipping around, a finger pressed to his lips with a “Shh!”

Leaning on each other for support, we dissolved in a fit of giggles at the ridiculousness of the most unserious guy we knew trying to act stern.

Yeah, this weekend away was exactly what I’d needed.

With a win in the books, everyone headed back to the hotel for some rest and relaxation. The kids—players and siblings alike—took over the indoor pool, while the parents migrated to the outdoor patio, cracking open coolers brought from home as they sat around several gas fire pits.

“Beer?” Crew brought a glass bottle into view.

“Sure.” I accepted it gratefully, popped the cap, and took a sip. Turning to Arizona, I asked, “Do you want one?”

She held up a hand. “Thanks, but I can’t.”

The can’t stuck out to me, and I leaned in to whisper-hiss, “Oh my God, are you pregnant?”

“That ship sailed a long time ago.” Arizona shook her head with a laugh before explaining, “I’m ten years sober.”

“Congrats. That’s a hell of an accomplishment.”

Smiling shyly, she ducked her head. “Thanks.”

I swished the liquid in my bottle. “Are you okay with us drinking in front of you?”