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LIAM

I cannot stop thinking about Jessica kissing me in the kitchen.

It took me by surprise for numerous reasons, including it made me forget what had me so ticked off that I was taking it out on my cabinet doors.

We’re both relatively quiet for the next few days, yet I sense a feeling of electric anticipation anytime we’re in the same room together, or when we text at night. It’s become a bit of a routine.

She’s given me room to breathe and if I’ve been living in a tunnel, there’s finally light at the end.

I can type the things I want to say to her better than I can say them aloud.

Namely, that I want to kiss her again, but she can’t know that. I shouldn’t be entertaining it. What’s wrong with me?

I tell myself it was a mistake.

A wonderful mistake that I’d like to repeat every day.

Technically I could, if Jessica and I entered into a marriage of convenience agreement. But it would be phony. Could I live with that? Could she? Would kissing be included in the contract?

Or perhaps the anticipation I’m sensing is that we’re heading to Toronto to play against the Titans, which means Hendrix and I will potentially be going head-to-head.

This also means we’re visiting the family.

With the kid.

And Grandma Dolly.

While Jessica puts away laundry, I step into her space and finally say what I should’ve the other day, “What we did in the kitchen can’t happen again.”

Her brown eyes scan my face.

For a moment, I’m afraid I might see anger or hurt.

Instead, she says, “Good thing we’re not in the kitchen.” Then Jessica presses her mouth to mine. If she misheard me, I can’t say I mind.

It’s instant sweetness, softness, a connection so intense I risk melting. A pulse accelerates and my mind slips onto a single track.

This time, instead of the uncertain territory of our first kiss or the adventure of the second one, the intensity of our mouths moving together falls somewhere in between.

My palm gently cups the back of her head. Her hands grip the spot between my shoulders and neck before sliding upward as mine move down her back. It’s like we’re finally comfortable with each other.

I’m enjoying this way too much and draw back slightly before changing my mind. She made a good point about the technicalities of my comment and our location.

When we part, I ask, “What was that?”

She says, “It was a practice kiss for our wedding day.”

Inside, I jolt. I expected her to say something about glitter and smiles. “So you’ll do it?”

She bites her lip. “I happen to need a husband that comes in your size … if you hire a lawyer for me.”

“Everything will be legal.”

“Except getting married for reasons of convenience,” she says smartly. “The problem is I’m still wearing my jilted bride badge and the Coogan family won’t let me forget that I owe them money.”

“How do they figure that? It was Rexlan who left you at the altar.”

“Sorsha has a complicated concept of the events that transpired.”

I tap the air. “Which is why you need a lawyer.”

“And a big bad husband who’s part beast.”

“You want me to intimidate them?”

She shifts from foot to foot. “More like it’ll make me feel secure knowing that I have you and the full power of your might and money in my corner.”

“And you’ll marry me to protect the kid from Pamberlie in exchange?”

“Gladly.” Her smile isn’t one of unbridled revenge. More like excitement.

“But we can’t do that again,” I say, gesturing between the two of us.

“Of course not. As I said, it was just a test.”

“For what?” The idea of kissing her again makes me dizzy.

“To make sure all the mechanics are working properly. You know, for later like on our wedding day,” she speaks nervously, haltingly as if the truth doesn’t fill the space between our lips.

So we will be kissing again. Part of me isn’t mad about that. Quite the opposite, actually.

The remainder of the week is a continent-trotting whirlwind with games in Los Angeles, where I see my parents. They insist on going to Toronto too. First, we play the Ottawa Outlaws before heading to the Blizzard Dome, the Titans arena.

Because of the travel schedule, I won’t see Jessica until after the game, which I fully intend for the Knights to win even though my brother has a home advantage.

Three twenty-minute periods of ice time make for a sixty-minute game during which we eat it by giving the Titans openings for three power plays, all of which were successful. I get my seventh goal of the season, resulting in a shootout.

Valjean is all over me, doing his level best to cause trouble. I pour all my focus into the game, putting off telling my parents about the kid until afterward.

When afterward comes with a one-point loss, Hendrix is all too pleased with himself. I remind him that I provided over twenty saves.

This season isn’t going as well as in the past, but we’re still on track for the Finals.

I can’t dash after the game because I’m the captain, but I feel scattered. The recaptain I give is lackluster with me reminding the guys to remain focused when I feel anything but. My head is fuzzy and jumps from thought to thought—the game, the kid, Jessica, the kiss, the game, my family, telling them I’m a dad, the game, repeat.

Before I leave the locker room, Grady claps me on the shoulder. “Hey, you did good. Don’t beat yourself up.”

I snort.

“I know you’re your toughest critic, but the Titans are a top team.”

“We can do better.”

“And we will, but, uh, maybe you need to, uh, you know?—”

I glare at him.

He glances at his feet and then meets my gaze. “Spend some time with your family. Whether they’re totally dysfunctional or entirely wonderful, it can help you reset, you know?”

Grady is a formidable man and player. I’ve gleaned he’s had some trials in his life. But I have a newfound respect for him even though I didn’t really want to hear what he had to say. I don’t intend to be a difficult person to talk to or to be intimidating, but the walls I’ve built to keep out distractions are high.

Yet Grady faced me head-on.

Meanwhile, I haven’t been able to tell my parents that they have a grandson.

“Yeah,” I reply to him when what I mean is thanks .

He gives me a nod and then leaves.

Taking a deep breath, I ready myself. It’s time to be a man.

The Ellises form a human wall in the hallway, all smiles and words of encouragement. Before I can say much more than hello to my sister and her kids, she’s off and running with my nieces and nephews who want to get autographs from the other players. Traitors.

Hendrix slides behind me, claps me on the shoulder, and says, “Nice try, bro. Maybe next time.”

An unstoppable ball of excitement, the kid barrels toward me, signing with one hand and gripping Jessica’s with the other. To anyone who doesn’t know he signs, they’d just think he’s a squirmy super fan who ran out of patience ... I mean, who’d think I’m a dad?!

Hendrix arches an eyebrow. “Is this safe? Authorized? Does Liam have a permit?”

I roll my eyes.

“Liam is great with kids,” my mother says.

It’s not entirely false. Even Ingrid would admit I’m a decent uncle. But that’s in measured amounts of time on holidays and during family gatherings.

My brother freezes mid-thought. His eyes dart between me and the child, his mouth opening and closing without sound. “Who do we have here and why didn’t I know my big bro is a ‘daddy’?” The last word hangs in the air, weighted with shock.

I smile stiffly and deliberately avoid Hendrix’s piercing stare. I’m going to get a lot of flack from him and while I deserve every bit of it and probably more, that doesn’t mean I’ll like it.

He marches toward the kid, who still holds Jessica’s hand. They’re both wearing my jersey. Sweat beads at my temples when Hendrix’s greeting goes unanswered.

Jessica signs to the kid. I recognize Uncle . The kid waves and signs his name with adorably chubby fingers.

The silence that follows seems like it’ll never end as everything happens in slow motion. My mother’s fingers press to her mouth and my father’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife.

It’s not because KJ is Deaf. It’s because he’s mine.

The meaning sinks in even slower now.

Hendrix says, “The little dude has moves. Okay, what’s the sign for awesome?”

I swallow thickly because he understood a lot more quickly than I allowed myself to, which makes guilt claw at my insides.

Jessica shows him the sign and Hendrix repeats it flawlessly, indicating to everyone that he’s awesome.

In a low voice, so only I can hear, Dad says, “Liam, I see there have been ... developments.”

His emphasis on the word makes me wince.

“We met Jess and KJ briefly in the VIP suite, but there was so much going on.” Dad is practically a celebrity around here so it’s no surprise that he’d be occupied with people chatting along with watching the game, but this is certainly a surprise for them.

I grunt, aware that everyone’s eyes are burning holes into me.

Mom, who of course hears everything, steps forward with wide yet soft eyes. “Congratulations!” She means every syllable in the word but likely hurt that I didn’t tell her. That I kept this from our family.

“When exactly were you planning to tell us?” Hendrix asks, his voice tight with disbelief.

I don’t know. This is one of those moments when I realize that despite my size and age, I can be immature and that brings with it shame.

Ever the one to cut the tension, Hendrix says, “Are you going to introduce us to your fiancée?”

Of course, that’s what they’d assume.

Hendrix continues, “I need to know who I’m talking to before I issue a hazmat warning.” There’s a quirk on his lips, but his eyes remain stunned circles.

“This is Jessica,” I mumble, feeling my face burn.

She steps forward gracefully, seemingly unfazed by the family tension crackling around us. “Jess and KJ—short for King Liam Junior. I’m so glad we’re getting to spend some time together. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have?” All adult Ellises present ask in synchronized shock, voices overlapping with varying degrees of disbelief.

Jessica smiles and shakes her head. “No. Liam doesn’t say much, but I’m working on that.”

They chorus laughter, of course, charmed by her despite their obvious surprise at the news, and I feel my shoulders start to relax just slightly.

My father catches my eye over Jessica’s shoulder, mouthing silently, “We will talk later.”

I nod, knowing I have a lot of explaining to do.

But the thing about my family, despite their history on the ice, is that they’re the warmest people on the planet and maybe I knew that even if I avoided coming forth with the truth, they’d accept KJ no matter what.

And maybe their meeting him is the final piece to the puzzle that makes this real.

After an uneventful night in a hotel—where Jessica and I stay in separate rooms—the next day, they offer for us to ride with them to Brookking Sound, but I rent an SUV and we load in for the three-hour trip north.

Having been doing my own thing for a while, I forgot how all-pervasive my family can be. It’s not like being smothered with a damp blanket, but navigating this situation—not the roads, I know them well—feels like a trick shot.

When we pull out of the parking lot behind my parents, I say, “Sorry about that with everyone.”

“No need to apologize. They were wonderful,” Jessica says.

“My wild family?”

“No, you’re the wild one, Liam. They’re rather tame.”

“Stick around, it’ll get worse.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Grandma Dolly and KJ ride in the back while I give Jessica a who’s who of the Ellis family while she signs to her grandmother.

“My dad was born in Germany and played hockey there before being drafted to Canada in the nineteen nineties. He’ll be all too pleased to tell you about the beauty he met shortly after.”

“Your mom?”

“Belinda Bell. They moved to Brookking Sound when Dad retired. When the three of us grew up, they then relocated to sunny San Diego—my sister Ingrid followed.”

“They seem really sweet together. Cara and Pierre gave me an abbreviated version of your bio. Though she didn’t mention that you’re a doting uncle.”

“Mom and Dad are all too pleased because Ingrid has three kids and they love being grandparents.” I glance over my shoulder at my son. “They’re going to spoil him.”

Jessica signs and says, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s literally a grandparent’s job.”

In the rearview mirror, I see Grandma Dolly agree.

Jessica says, “Tell me about your brother.”

“You mean the charmer, the flirt? I’d warn you not to put up with him, but he got a Christmas surprise of his own.”

“I take it he found someone special?”

“Oh no. It was an absolute disaster. I thought they were going to bury each other in the snow. But things wrapped up nicely with a bow.”

Her laughter fills the truck. “Sounds like a Happy Christmas Ever After.”

“Something like that,” I grunt, thinking about my boy waiting for me in the Old Mill building when I got back from the festivities with my family.

“You guys played really well. I knew Hendrix was your brother because you both have the same posture when at attention and the same smile … when you release yours from its bonds.”

And there I thought we were nothing alike.

I say, “We’ve been in skates together since we could walk.”

“Has there ever been rivalry?”

“Do you with your siblings?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know if I have any.”

Her words come with a heavy silence. There is so much I don’t know about the woman my parents think is the child’s mother, who I’m supposed to be marrying.

Clearing my throat, I say, “He’s the right forward. Our positions have different duties, but we challenge each other out there.”

“You’re both amazing … and very physical.”

I snort. We’ve been known to accidentally throw elbows on occasion, especially at each other because we know that after the game, we’ll snap back into being family. I guess. Unlike other players who manipulate, take advantage, play victim … Valjean. “If you have a chance, call him Heinrich. He hates it.”

“In that case, I should ask, is your real name Liam?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

Turns out, she knows a lot about me—what I eat, when I go to sleep, though recently later than usual since we often text at night. How I like my laundry folded—the woman must have nerves of steel to wash my hockey gear. She somehow hides the protein powder the team nutritionist insists I take in a berry smoothie so delicious, that I can’t taste it. And she isn’t stingy with her smiles even when I don’t deserve them.

“I also know that you and your brother live and breathe hockey.”

“That’s about where our similarities end.”

“You’re both tall.”

“I’m half an inch taller.”

“Same nose.”

I grunt. “He’s a goofball.”

“Ah. You’re definitely not that.”

“Are you saying I don’t know how to have fun?”

“Decline to comment.”

Maybe I’ll have to change that, but we’re nearly to Brookking Sound. Home of the Ellis family hockey legacy.

“Did your sister play hockey? Sisters intimidate me,” Jessica admits.

“In that case, Ingrid will not disappoint. She’s type A. But likable. No nonsense, efficient, brilliant.”

“And gorgeous.”

“Pregnant too. She has three kids. This will make four.”

“This means KJ has cousins around his age.”

“Yeah,” I answer softly because how will he be able to communicate with them? Then again, he’s been doing fine at nursery school according to Jessica.

“Is your sister a stay-at-home mom or?—?”

“Somewhere, someone has a bet running about whether she’ll leave her job in marketing when the new addition comes along.”

“Given your moodiness, I thought you came from a broken family. They’re perfect. So why the chip on your shoulder?”

Taken aback, I pause before formulating a response. “It’s not a chip. More like the weight of the past.”

“What makes you say that?”

I’m afraid she’s going to find out soon enough. Brookking Sound isn’t the kind of place to keep secrets. “When you said broken family , your voice cracked like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Starting during my third week in kindergarten, I was placed with multiple foster families. Some better than others.”

Jessica doesn’t say another word. I’m afraid to ask because of what it’ll do to her smile.