Page 10

“Most of the other WAGs don’t work,” she’d confided to Sheridan during one of their video chats during the past week.

“We go to Pilates together a few mornings a week as a group. Everyone is very nice. But sometimes it’s good to get away from the world of hockey and do something for yourself, you know? ”

“Except I’m not a wife or a girlfriend of a player,” Sheridan told her. “It wouldn’t be right for me to join them at Pilates or anything else.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Claire had argued. “You’re part of the Mayhem family. Granted, your situation is unusual, but you have as much right to be a part of the WAGs as anyone else. It’s a non-issue. You’ll see. Everyone is already excited to meet you.”

That piece of information had left Sheridan more than a little intimidated.

She’d never really had close friends. Growing up, the hours after school were spent doing chores at home or at the bar so her ailing mother could get some much-needed rest. Once her mother was gone, her dad and Jamie demanded all her attention.

There wasn’t any time for a BFF, much less a squad of girlfriends.

She’d hoped college would provide her the opportunity to flex her wings and find friends.

But then Finn came along, and Madison needed her help.

Night school didn’t exactly provide the same interactions as living in a dorm on campus.

And it wasn’t like she was involved with the WAGs in Boston.

That was Madison’s territory. It was only a matter of time before the Mayhem WAGs would out her for the poser she was.

“I’m bringing my skates, too,” Finn was saying. “Gunner said there is a mini rink in the family lounge. And sometimes they go on the ice after the game.”

“We’ll see,” she said about more than Finn taking a few laps around the ice.

Finn’s phone rang.

“I’ll bet that’s Alek.” He pulled it from his backpack and quickly answered it. “Hello?” After a moment, he repeated himself. “Hello?” Shrugging, he hung up and put the phone back into his backpack.

“Nobody was there?” she asked.

“Nah. Dad gets a lot of calls where no one is there.”

“That’s odd.”

Finn shrugged again. Sheridan made a mental note to check the phone and block those callers when her nephew yelled in delight.

“Yay! We are in Wisconsin. Almost there, Hattie.”

The dog nuzzled his shoulder. Sheridan mentally braced herself before repeating her mantra for the next year.

I’m doing this for Finn.

Alek tried not to squirm beneath the shrewd gaze of the Mayhem’s owner.

At thirty-five, Maxim Kellogg could have been a contemporary of most of the players on his team.

Except for the fact the man was heir to a billion-dollar beer company, and he signed their paychecks.

One-on-ones with Kellogg weren’t exactly the norm.

The Mayhem were six days into the new season, and they’d already dropped their first three games.

The season was long, and it wasn’t unusual for any team to start out slow, especially since the Mayhem had yet to play a game on their home ice.

But it was hard to ignore that Alek had allowed eleven goals to slip into the net during that time.

Not a good look for a team hoping to make it to the finals.

Coach and the team’s GM weren’t too stressed about it.

Both men told Alek to shake it off. Apparently, Kellogg preferred to address the situation head-on.

Probably because the guy had signed Alek to the second-highest contract for any goalie in the league.

In the year since, Alek’s play hadn’t exactly lived up to all the zeros in his paycheck.

The whispers on sports talk radio at the end of last season were growing louder with the team’s less-than-stellar start to this year.

Alek couldn’t deny that the distractions of the past two weeks had played a role. Not an hour went by when he didn’t question his rash decision. But then he’d hear his mother’s voice reading Jamie’s letter.

You’re the only dude I know who will be the perfect father and role model for my son.

When he should have been focusing on his play, he’d been juggling all the details associated with Finn and Sheridan moving in with him.

Including having a fence installed to contain a dog the size of a pony.

Of course, the boy and his dog were attached at the hip.

Foisting her off on a relative or friend wasn’t an option.

Finn insisted the dog was well-mannered. Apparently, his father had trained her himself. Leave it to Jamie to have a pet that’s more beast than fur-baby. Alek clenched his fists tightly.

Bottom line: His piss-poor play between the pipes was all his former best friend’s fault.

Kellogg would probably think poorly of Alek for blaming a dead guy, though. Thankfully, his long-term houseguests were arriving today. He’d get them all settled in tonight, then Alek would turn things around in the Mayhem’s home opener tomorrow.

Never one to mince words, Kellogg got right to the point. “Are you sure taking on a kid right now is what you want to do?” he inquired over his steepled fingers.

“Absolutely,” Alek replied.

The word rolled off his tongue a lot easier than it had the week before. Kellogg wasn’t the first person to ask him that over the past ten days. Since the funeral, Alek had been fielding the same question from his family, his teammates, and himself.

“If you’re concerned this will impact my play, don’t be.” Alek tried to project as much confidence as he could, despite both men knowing there were no guarantees in life.

“Your play is the least of my worries. The season is barely a week old. And you’re one of the best in the league.”

The owner’s reassurance had Alek’s shoulders relaxing.

“Raising a child isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Kellogg continued. “They should always take priority. Sometimes even before hockey.”

“Nothing about my work ethic is going to change. You have my word.” Alek may be getting new roommates, but the goal wasn’t changing. The Mayhem were winning the Cup this season, no matter what it took.

Kellogg shot him a look that clearly said “we’ll see about that.”

Alek was aware the man was speaking from experience.

He had grown up the bastard son of the team’s original owner, Norm Clarkson.

Old Man Clarkson had spent three decades ignoring the existence of his “love child,” only recognizing him months before his death when he gifted him his hockey team and a percentage of his beer company.

According to the gossip, Kellogg almost turned his inheritance down out of spite.

The Mayhem players were glad he didn’t. Kellogg was a fair and generous owner.

Most of all, he wanted to win as much as Alek and his teammates did.

It didn’t hurt that his half-siblings owned two of Milwaukee’s other professional sports teams. The competition among the family was rumored to be fierce, not to mention great fodder for the media.

As a result, Kellogg spared no expense getting the talent and the facilities needed to ensure the Mayhem were always competitive within the league—and his newfound family.

“It’s a responsibility I’m taking very seriously,” Alek assured him.

Kellogg nodded. “In that case, he’s a lucky boy to have you.” The phone on his desk rang, putting an end to their discussion. “Whatever you or Finn need, we’ve got your back.”

Alek waved his thanks as he stepped out of the owner’s office. When he closed the door behind him, he heaved a big sigh of relief.

Gus, Valentine, and Picard surrounded the desk of Kellogg’s executive assistant, Lori Lewis.

“Did you see the dessert menu?” Picard was saying to her.

Lori leafed through the leather-bound menu. “They look amazing. Sign me up to do a tasting with the pastry chef before you open the restaurant.”

Picard winked at her. “Play your cards right, and I might name one after you.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You should know by now your flirting doesn’t work on me, Zachary. I’m not one of your adoring groupies who mail their panties to the arena.”

Properly chastised, Picard carefully took the menu from her and returned it to its box.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this business venture. I’m proud of you,” she continued, her tone a bit softer. “Take it as seriously as you take your game, and there’s no way it won’t be a huge success.”

Alek joined them. “As long as he’s not doing the cooking. Dude can’t even make a grilled cheese without burning it.”

“Har, har,” Picard said. “You’re talking about the next big thing in steak houses.

People will be driving up from Chicago for our food.

” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, we need to get going. The first chef is interviewing tonight, and we’ve got food to taste, my friends. Dinner is on me.”

Crap . Alek had totally forgotten that was this evening.

“Erm, I’m afraid I’m going to have to bail. Finn is arriving shortly.”

Picard opened his mouth, likely to give him a hard time, before he closed it again.

He nodded instead. Like the Mayhem’s owner, his teammates were all quick to support his decision to bring Jamie’s son to Milwaukee.

Picard had played with Jamie on various US teams throughout the years.

He was as shocked by Jamie’s death as everyone else.

Offering up a sympathetic smile, Lori handed him a folder adorned with the Mayhem logo. “Here are your additional family passes for Finn and his caregiver.”

Alek bowed slightly. “You are a queen.”

She stood from her desk. “And don’t you boys forget it.”

That was unlikely to happen. The woman had become the Mayhem’s undisputed team mom the moment she walked into the facility on her first day, anticipating the needs of the players and their families often before they did.

Whenever anyone had a problem, Lori was their first—and usually last—stop to get it resolved.

“Did you say caregiver?” Valentine interjected. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. The nanny just went to the top of the list of prospective”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“Brides to Melt the Ice-Berg.”

“Not this again.” Alek glared at his teammate.

Valentine was pushing ahead with his cockamamie scheme to find him a wife.

During the team’s first night on the road, he’d made a game of querying everyone associated with the Mayhem, fishing for prospective brides.

He added the women’s names to a spreadsheet he carried around on his phone.

One of the broadcasters even added his granddaughter—who was barely sixteen.

Alek hated being at the center of such a ridiculous exercise, especially since they were supposed to be getting their shit together for the season.

“There’s no nanny on top of any list because there is. No. List,” he told them. “And no nanny, either. Finn’s aunt is coming along to take care of him.”

Valentine groaned. “One with fat ankles and sagging boobs, I presume.”

Alek bit back a grin because neither described Sheridan.

Her ankles were perfect, and her boobs, well, they weren’t centerfield worthy, but they’d definitely felt full and perky pressed against his chest when he’d embraced her at Jamie’s funeral.

Not that he should be noticing his former best friend’s little sister’s boobs.

Or any other part of her.

Lori pressed a sticky note to the folder containing the family passes.

“This is my daughter’s contact info. She’s thirteen and has completed all the babysitting classes.

Hannah goes to the upper school where Finn will be attending.

She can pitch in if you ever need afterschool care.

” She picked up a tablet and stylus and headed in the direction of her boss’s office.

“Enjoy your night off, gentleman. Try not to stuff yourselves at the tasting.”

“Did you know she has a kid?” Valentine asked Picard as the two men walked away.

Picard shook his head. “Honestly, I’ve always pictured her as the Mary Poppins type who kept everything she owned in a satchel.”

Valentine smacked Picard on the shoulder. “Who made a better Mary Poppins? Julie Andrews or Emily Blunt?”

“Not even a fair contest. Emily Blunt is so much hotter,” Picard replied as they drifted out of earshot.

Gus bit back a chuckle before turning to Alek. “Everything okay in there with Kellogg?”

“Yeah.” Alek nodded. “He wanted to make sure I know what I’m getting into.”

“And do you?”

His best friend’s question felt like it was coming out of left field. “You were the first person to tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

“You are. With Finn. But what about with the kid’s aunt?”

What the hell?

“It’s not like I can take care of Finn on my own, even if Sheridan would let him out of her sight. What exactly are you implying?”

Gus sighed. “It’s that Claire and Sheridan have been video chatting.” He lowered his voice. “Valentine and Picard are going to want to put her on the top of their own lists once they find out she doesn’t have fat ankles. Or saggy boobs.”

Hell, has Gus been checking out Sheridan’s rack?

“Over my dead body,” he ground out through his tight jaw.

Gus’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah, so it’s like that, huh?”

“No!” Alek glanced around the office when he realized he was shouting. He dragged in a calming breath. “It’s not like that with Sheridan. She’s Jamie’s kid sister, for crying out loud. I don’t think of her in any other way. End of story.”

It was a wonder his joggers didn’t burst into flames.

He’d been thinking of her in lots of other ways since seeing her again.

Most of them involved her naked beneath him, her hair spread out on his pillow and her legs wrapped around his waist. It was an insane fantasy, though.

They may have parted as enemies, but Alek would never take advantage of his former best friend’s sister.

Because that would be a crime as bad as Jamie’s.

“Hmm.” Gus did that thing where he practically made his lips disappear as he nodded in approval.

“You’re sticking to your principles. That’s good to know.

Of course, that’s a whole lot easier said than done once she’s living under your roof.

” He patted Alek on the back. “I wish you luck, my friend.”

“I don’t need any luck,” Alek replied to Gus’s retreating back. “I have this under control.”

His friend had the nerve to bark out a laugh as he turned the corner.

Alek remained where he was, hands on his hips. He didn’t need any damn luck. He needed a willing woman to take his mind off the untouchable one who was about to move in with him. Maybe Valentine’s list could be of some use after all.