Page 7 of Playboy Husband

CALLUM

Ileaned against the boards with my arms crossed, watching the last of the older boys make their way off the ice. Coaching wasn’t my job, but when Gage had mentioned they could use an extra set of hands at the rink, I’d volunteered immediately.

Hell, it’s fun giving these kids a hard time.

Plus, this was hockey in its simplest, purest form. Just a game that gave the kids a healthy outlet for all that energy they had to burn.

“Good hustle today,” I called to the older boys, earning myself a few tired salutes and cocky grins. I remembered when that had been me, and damn, I missed it. I shook my head. The next session was starting soon. This wasn’t the time to reminisce.

Two smaller kids waiting nearby started roughhousing, already shoving each other as they skated toward their coach. I smirked, watching the taller one effortlessly dominating the other.

“Isn’t that the Brody kid?” I asked Gage as I watched them stumble closer, seeing the taller one cut in front of the little one without even seeming to try. “That kid you told me about the other day?”

Beside me, Gage snorted. “Yeah, that’s him.

I’ve been talking to the head coach to age him up.

He’s ready, bigger, faster, and way more skilled than the other kids in his age group.

I honestly think the kids in his team are frustrating the heck out of him, but it’s a non-starter because Brody’s mom won’t allow it. ”

“Why not?”

“She’s cautious.” Gage shrugged, then glanced at me. “You might know her, actually. His mom. Maisie Morgan? She went to Cal Poly too. A couple years behind us. She was on the dive team.”

The name hit me like a puck to the chest. “Maisie Morgan?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I remember seeing her with you a time or two. She was that hotshot diver we partied with for a while. She had a full ride. Olympic aspirations. All the talent in the world to make it too, but then she just fell off the map. You have to remember her.”

I looked up on instinct, scanning the stands until I saw her. Sitting a few rows up with a pile of papers in her lap, she was staring right back at me with an expression on her delicate features that screamed horror.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail today instead of tumbling loose around her shoulders like it had last night, but it was definitely her. Maisie. My Maisie. My future wife who had left me standing on the sidewalk.

My stomach dropped as beer-soaked memories suddenly started funneling back into my brain. I honestly hadn’t recognized her in that bar. She’d grown up a lot, her features sharper and more mature now, but hearing her full name had triggered something buried deep inside my mind.

Blurry memories of house parties and us dancing together flickered behind my eyes. I remembered the humid scent of chlorine still clinging to her hair and the way her small body had wrapped around mine.

So, yeah. I remember Maisie now. I remember her for being the one girl who ever saw through my bullshit and never fell for my charms.

Until that night.

I still wasn’t sure what had changed or why she’d suddenly let me catch her after chasing her for so long. It had only been one night and my memories of it were fractured into bursts, but it had also been unforgettable.

I swallowed hard, shoving my hands into my pockets as if that might ground me. What the hell is she doing here? Why is she looking at me like that? And why the hell is my heart pounding like I’ve just taken a check to the ribs?

Also, she’s a mom? When the hell did that happen?

The thought clanged around in my skull for a few seconds as I stood there like an idiot, watching her pack up her things like she could erase her presence here if she moved fast enough.

Maisie Morgan.

I hadn’t let myself think of our night together in years. Then she’d shown up at a bar after answering my ad for a wife and now she was here, with a kid who looked like her but played like he’d been built for the NHL.

“Give me a minute,” I muttered to Gage, then skated straight for the exit.

My hands fumbled a little with my laces, but I yanked my skates off as fast as I could and jogged up the stands two steps at a time, reaching her before she’d finished cramming all those papers into her bag.

“Maisie,” I said when I reached her, a little breathless, but that was mostly shock instead of exertion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She froze, her narrow shoulders stiffening when she must’ve realized I was standing right in front of her. I was a big guy and she was tiny. I’d essentially boxed her in. She would have to crawl over me or fling herself off the back of the stands to get away.

Judging by the fire flashing in her vibrant green eyes as she finally looked up at me, she was considering it. “What are you doing, Callum?”

“Is that why you ran out last night?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice low and steady. “Was it because I didn’t remember you?”

Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t say a word. Clearly, she didn’t plan on speaking to me. She still looked as pissed off as she had just before she’d turned and raced away, so I tried to ease the tension with a crooked grin and a joke.

“So, what, is Brody my kid or something?”

The scowl she gave me in response could’ve stripped paint. It certainly would’ve made a lesser man cover his balls and back away. “Brody’s father isn’t in the picture.”

A strange relief washed through me, but I stood my ground, sliding my hands into my pockets and leaning against the seat in front of her. “At least you’re talking to me again. That’s a good sign. Can we please just start over? I’d really like to know why you answered that ad.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why did you post it? Was it some kind of sick joke to you? Are you trying to reel in women that way because you’re getting older and you’re losing your touch?”

That stung more than I wanted to admit. My jaw tightened and suddenly I was the one scowling, but at the same time, something in me lit up at the bite in her voice.

God help me, I like still like this back and forth with her.

She wasn’t batting her lashes like every other woman I’d met in the last decade. She was mean, and for some reason, I wanted her to keep going. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Let’s try again,” I said. “You obviously need something or you wouldn’t have walked into that bar. What I need is a wife. Let’s talk about it. I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“No, we can’t.” Her chin lifted, her shoulders squaring under her plain, cotton shirt and fitted, three-quarter-sleeve jacket. “I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Her eyes locked on mine, her gaze clear and cutting. “Because it’s you, Callum. That’s why.”

I ground my teeth, trying to come up with something, anything, to say back to her, but the sharp blast of a whistle pierced through the air. My head jerked toward the ice on an instinct I would probably never shake.

A couple of boys were scrapping in the corner, their sticks clattering in the wake of their clash, and one of them was unmistakably Brody. Maisie went completely rigid.

“Move,” she snapped, shoving me aside as she stood up, her voice tight with panic and her gaze glued to the ice. Her cheeks paled.

“Sit tight,” I said, already turning away from her. “I’ll get this.”

“Callum—”

Before she could even finish, I was practically flying down the stands. After quickly shoving my feet back into my skates, I raced back onto the ice. The kids froze when they saw me coming.

Brody didn’t look scared, though. If anything, he looked ready to scrap with me too. His chin was lifted, his fists clenched like he wasn’t about to back down from anyone.

Hell yeah, kid. That fighting spirit will take you far in life. If you can learn to control it.

Surprisingly, this kid reminded me a lot of myself at his age. Too confident and not willing to put up with the other boys not paying attention or giving their all in practice.

I skated over, nodding at a younger coach who had slung his arm around the other, smaller boy. “I’ll take it from here.”

The guy looked relieved enough to melt into the boards. He nudged the other boy, keeping a gentle hand on his shoulders as they skated away.

I met Brody’s gaze and crouched down until my eyes were level with his, my voice low but firm. “Take off your skates, kid.”

He frowned and then let out a soft scoff. “What? I don’t even know who you are.”

“Take ‘em off,” I repeated, still keeping my voice quiet enough that his teammates wouldn’t overhear me but making sure he would realize that there was no point in arguing. “You’re done practicing with the little kids.”

His head jerked like I’d insulted him. His eyebrows jumped up as a storm started churning in that angry green gaze he’d obviously inherited from his mother. “I wasn’t—”

“You’re too rough for them,” I cut in, leveling him with a stare. “You need to play with kids your own size. Even if they’re older. You’re moving up to the next league, little dude.”

The silence that followed was heavy but almost electric. Brody’s expression was caught somewhere between disbelief and pride as he stared back at me, his mouth twitching like he didn’t want me to see him smile.

I straightened and glanced back at the boards where Maisie was waiting. She stood just off the ice, her arms wrapped around her chest like she was physically trying to keep herself together, but her eyes were locked on me, wide and unguarded. She stared at me in a way that damn near broke my heart.

She’s really been doing this alone? Raising this kid, this fierce oversized seven-year-old who’s already half her size, by herself?

I went over to her and said, “I’ll see you tonight,” keeping my voice low so only she could hear. “We’re having a redo. Same time, same place.”

Leaving her standing exactly where she was, I went to find Gage. Brody wasn’t wasting another practice stuck in the wrong group. Not if I had anything to say about it.