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I resist the urge to ask if I can give her more than she’s bargained for.
“I’m just saying, we’re all good at something. You’re good with animals. I’d probably forget to feed it or something.”
She arches a brow. “Is that something you want to say to the mother of the child you’re mentoring?”
“Uh,” I cringe. “What I meant…” I scratch my head, trying to get my foot out of my mouth when she laughs and playfully whacks my stomach.
“It’s fine, and I’ll have you know that if I didn’t become a pet groomer, I’d have become a baker. I make a mean lava cake.”
“Mommy, can we have a lava cake?” Gavin asks, not missing a thing.
“Well, I have to make one for Jason’s upcoming birthday. I can probably sneak you and Holden a piece.”
The strangest surge of jealousy goes through me. “Jason?” I ask, sounding like a total, possessive dick, I’m sure.
“Holden’s dad. His birthday party is coming up. You should come.”
As soon as she says the words, her eyes go wide, like she instantly regrets them. “I mean, I’m sure you’re too busy, and that it would be pretty boring for you, and—”
“Sure, I’ll come. I mean, I can
’t miss out on this lava cake you’re so clearly good at making.”
My arm slides from her shoulder, and I miss her closeness as I open the doors to the rink. Cold air rushes over us, and laughter reaches our ears.
“It’s just that Jason is a huge fan,” she says. “That’s why I asked.”
I nod, not at all insulted that she wasn’t asking because she wanted me there. “Am I Jason’s favorite?”
“I think so.”
“Finally,” I say with a laugh.
The corners of her mouth quirk with a grin. “Although, I can’t be completely sure.”
“Jason likes Jonah best,” Gavin kindly clarifies.
I shake my head and laugh at the kid’s honesty, which I really like, actually. These two are definitely not going to stroke my ego, that’s for sure. “No filters on that one, is there?” I tease. I lead them to the bleachers, so I can tug on my skates. I hand Gavin his bag. “Grab your sweater, bud.” It’s chilly in the rink so he doesn’t protest. Gavin reaches into his bag, and puts on his sweater and helmet.
“You don’t happen to have a helmet for me too, do you?” Harper asks, her lashes blinking over worried eyes.
“I can run back out to the truck and get mine if you think you need it. It might be a bit big.”
“I’m sure it’s huge.” I eye her, take in the smile that she’s trying to hide, when she adds, “You know, to house that big ego of yours.”
My jaw drops playfully. “Who told you that?”
She grins. “I think I’ll be okay. I don’t plan to venture too far from the boards.”
I chuckle as I lace up and stand. “Your folks obviously picked the wrong sport for you.” She glances off into the distance when I mention her folks, like she’s remembering a happy time.
“My mother figure skated and thought I would be a natural.”
“Does she still skate?”
She gives a fast shake of her head. “No, she’s gone.”
I take her hand in mine. “I’m sorry, Harper. I didn’t mean to bring up hurtful memories.”
