Page 59

“Well, thank you for bringing me.”

Carson smiles back at me. “Of course. How did it go with the contractors today? What’s going on with the mold remediation?”

I take a sip of my own drink, gently setting it down on the table top. “It went well. They’re almost finished and it should be safe for us to go back within the next week. The contractors are ready to get back to working and based on the current timeline of things, they’re anticipating another month or so before the house is completely finished.”

He drops his gaze down to the table, his fingers toy with the napkin in front of him as he slowly nods. “That’s good,” he says quietly, his voice semi detached and void of any emotion. “So, I guess that means the two of you will be heading back to Starling Ridge sooner than later.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I reach across the table and cover his hand with mine. He wraps his long fingers around mine, eyes closing as he sucks in a deep breath. “Hey.” He opens his eyes, lifting his head to look at me. “We’re not leaving yet and even after we do, you’re still going to see him.”

Carson’s eyebrows tug together, his lips parting as he cocks his head to the side. “That’s?—”

He’s cut off by our server arriving with our food. I pull away, releasing his hands as I drop my own into my lap for a moment. The server smiles at both of us, setting the plates down, and asks if we need anything else, and then she turns around and begins to walk away.

Carson glares at his plate with irritation woven into his expression.

“What were you saying?”

The irritation washes away as soon as he lifts his focus to me. “What?”

“When she brought our food, you were saying something but got interrupted.”

Like a switch has been flipped, the conflict contorts his handsome features again. He stares at me for a beat before shaking his head, like he’s shaking away a bad thought. “I don’t remember,” he says, his voice low. “It wasn’t important.”

The air between us has shifted, almost as if there’s a tension that wasn’t there before. Carson picks up his sandwich and takes a bite as he looks past me, out at the rippling surface of the lake. I want to know what he was going to say, I want to tell him that everything is important...but I don’t.

I don’t want to push him and I certainly don’t want to prod. Carson Ford is the epitome of a man with golden retriever energy. He’s pleasant and normally happy, so even this little shift in his mood is a stark contrast to how he normally is.

And I don’t want to cause any more tension than there already is.

“How did your appointment go?” I motion to his hand with my fork. He has it beneath the table, resting on his lap.

Carson lifts it in the air, showing me the bandage covering a small section of his wrist. “It went great. I have to start physical therapy, but they said it’s healing faster than they expected. They removed the cast and took out the pins and I should be good to go in a month or two.”

“That’s amazing.” I smile at him, lifting a forkful of my salad toward my lips. “I’m so glad that your recovery isn’t going to take too long.”

He nods, smiling back at me, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Me too. It still sucks that this happened during the playoffs. If it would have happened in the regular season, I couldhave still played with them probably. I wouldn’t have left them short.”

I tilt my head to the side, swallowing my mouthful of lettuce before speaking. “They didn’t lose because you weren’t there.”

“Well, they didn’t win either,” Carson counters, a subtle bite in his tone. “I’m sorry, I’m projecting. This has all been a very frustrating and defeating situation. Surprisingly, this is the first time I’ve ever had to experience something like this.”

“It’s not your fault and there’s nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening. It was a freak injury and you’re lucky. It could have been much worse.”

His shoulders sag, just a touch. “I know,” he agrees, his voice softer. “I’ve been trying to be kinder to myself and not beat myself up over it. All that matters now is healing properly and getting back into it.”

“Do you plan on working on the ice at all during the off season?”

Carson nods. “I’m going to try to get as much ice time as I possibly can. I’m going to meet with our athletic trainer after I get situated with PT and see if we can come up with a routine for me for the off season.” He pauses, taking another sip of his drink. “You can always tell during training camp who wasted their summer doing nothing and who worked their ass off. I don’t want to show up out of shape.”

“That makes total sense.” I give him a gentle smile. “You’re going to come back stronger than ever.”

“I hope so,” he says, his voice quiet, eyes slowly searching mine. “Before, I only had to worry about disappointing myself or my team. Things are different now with Matteo. I want to set an example. I want to be the person he looks up to and someone he wants to be like.”

Something in his tone hits me directly in his chest. That and the way he’s looking at me right now—like he’s afraid of being afailure. And that is the last thing he will ever be in our son’s eyes. “Carson...whether you play hockey or not, that little boy will look up to you. I see the way he is with you and it’s different from how he’s ever been with anyone before. You’re his father. Set an example by continuing to be the amazing person you are. Fuck hockey. It won’t always be there.”

Carson falls silent, his eyes burning holes through mine. His lips part for a second, then he closes them and his jaw clenches. His eyebrows tug closer together, his eyes growing unfocused before something inside him clicks and he relaxes once more. “You’re right. Hockey has always been the most important thing to me. It’s been my entire personality for as long as I can remember, but you are so right. One day, I will have to move on from the sport and I’m beginning to see there’s so much more to life outside of the arena.” He pauses, the rest of the tension leaving his shoulders as he huffs out a breath. “Hockey doesn’t define me as a person or as a father.”

“No, it doesn't,” I agree, smiling at the revelation he seems to be having. “You’re Carson Ford—amazing father, exceptional friend and dare I say one of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know.” I roll my lips between my teeth, anxiety welling inside of me as the words swirl in my brain. Fuck it. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say that you’re quickly becoming one of my favorite people on this stupid spinning rock in space.”