Page 2 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

Chapter two

Blake

Ten more minutes until my mother’s flight lands.

Leaning against the hood of my car, I exhale, watching the steady flow of travelers spilling out of the airport doors.

Some people rush toward waiting taxis, others linger, searching for familiar faces.

I should go inside, grab a coffee, maybe stretch my legs.

But before I can move, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Ruth.

I answer immediately. “Ruth? Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine, Mr. Lennox,” she says. “It’s just that Mia has been restless. She’s been insisting on talking to you.”

I sigh, already picturing her - those big, expressive eyes, tiny brows scrunched in determination.

“Put her on.”

There’s a rustle, then a small voice comes through the line.

“Hello, dadda.”

The tightness in my chest loosens. “Hey, princess.” My voice softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you napping?”

“I woke up,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And I needed to talk to you.”

I smirk. “You woke up, baby.”

“That’s what I said,” she insists.

I glance at the board again. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.”

I shake my head, biting back a chuckle. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s watching Nemo again,” she says, her tone full of exasperation.

I chuckle. “Again?”

“Yes.” She sighs, as if carrying the weight of the world. “He says he’s learning whale language.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Of course he is.”

“He was making funny noises,” she whispers, “but Miss Ruth said he’s not a whale.”

“Well, she’s got a point.”

“But I think he wants to be one,” she adds seriously.

“That so?” I lean back, relaxing into the conversation. “Well, tell him he’s going to have to teach me. Might come in handy.”

She giggles. “But Dadda, you’re big. Big people don’t need whale language.”

“You never know,” I say. “What if I meet a whale one day?”

Another giggle. Then her voice softens. “Dadda?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“When are you coming back?”

I glance at my watch. 12:39 p.m. Seven more minutes.

“Soon, baby. I’m just waiting for Nana’s flight.”

There’s a pause, then a small sigh.

I frown. “What’s wrong, princess? Miss me?”

“Huh-uh,” she lies.

I chuckle. “Liar.”

This time, she doesn’t giggle. I can almost picture her pressing her lips together. There’s a pause, then a quieter, “ I miss you .”

A familiar ache settles in my chest.

“I miss you too, baby girl.”

“Tell you what,” I say, lowering my voice like we’re sharing a secret. “I’ll bring you that pink candy you love so much.”

Her gasp is immediate. “The swirly one?”

“The swirly one.”

“With the sparkles?”

“Yep.”

“And the magic?”

I chuckle. “Of course. The one with the magic.”

She sighs, completely satisfied. “Okay, see you soon, Dadda.”

I shake my head, heart full. “Soon, baby. Now, be good and give the phone to Miss Ruth.”

“Don’t forget to buy for Nico, okay? The green ones.”

“Okay.”

“Yesss,” she whispers, like I just told her she won a unicorn.

I chuckle. “All right, princess, give the phone back to Miss Ruth.”

There’s some muffled shuffling before Ruth’s voice returns. “Mr. Lennox.”

I straighten. “What have they been up to since I left?”

She pauses. “They watched TV, built a fort in the living room, played with some toys…, the usual.”

Typical.

“Sounds like a busy day,” I murmur.

My kids are good, but they’ve never been the kind to open up easily - not to new people, not to teachers, not even to some of their cousins. They are always together and avoid interacting with people.

“All right,” I say. “Thanks, Ruth. I’ll be back soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up, exhaling as I lean back against the car. My phone screen fades to black, but I tap it again, my eyes locking onto the picture staring back at me.

Mia and Nico, faces lit up in laughter, wearing matching team jerseys two sizes too big. Mia’s hands are thrown up in excitement, while Nico clutches a hockey stick like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

I trace a thumb over their faces. My kids. My world.

Hockey has been my life for as long as I can remember, but nothing…

nothing… comes close to them. Every early morning practice, every grueling road trip, every bone-crushing game - it all pales in comparison to coming home to their hugs, their laughter, their endless questions about the world.

I would give up everything before I ever failed them.

The way Mia giggles when she thinks I’m being silly, or the way Nico clings to my leg when I’m getting ready to leave. It’s magical, every time. Although being a single dad is challenging, they make it all worth it.

I checked the time again - 12:41 p.m. Mom’s flight should be landing in about five minutes.

With a sigh, I shove my phone into my pocket and step inside the terminal, weaving through the small crowd gathering near the arrivals gate. Soon, the overhead screen flashes her flight status - LANDED.

Minutes pass. People trickle out of the gate, some with wide smiles, others with tired eyes, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. My eyes sweep over them absently until…

I freeze.

A familiar figure moves through the crowd, her head tilted down, eyes glued to her phone.

It has been years. Years.

But I would recognize her anywhere.

The rush of memories is instant, unwanted. Late-night whispers. Laughter echoing through cold skating rinks. The way she used to look at me before everything…

She is about to pass me and before I can stop myself, the name slips past my lips.

“Whitney?”

She pauses mid-step, tilts her head up, and turns.

For a split second, recognition flashes in her eyes, quick and sharp. Then, just as fast, it fades into something unreadable. Cool indifference.

“Blake.” Her voice is cool and polite. Like we’re nothing more than old acquaintances crossing paths.

But I barely hear it.

Because she looks good.

I take a second to really look at her. The years haven’t changed her much.

She’s still stunning. Even more so, maybe.

Her long, dark hair is swept back in a perfect, effortless ponytail, strands of it curling just enough to frame her face.

The soft glow of the terminal lights catches her skin, in a way that makes it hard to look away.

She’s wearing a simple fitted blouse, jeans, and a sleek black warmer that clings to her frame, and her makeup is minimal but perfect.

She always had that effortless beauty, the kind that doesn’t need to try.

The kind of beauty that sneaks up on you, knocks the breath from your lungs before you even realize it. No exaggeration.

I swallow hard, suddenly aware of how out of place I feel at this moment. Clearing my throat, I ask, “How are you doing?”

“Good. Doing good,” she responds, her lips curving into a polite, almost rehearsed smile.

“Wow.” I exhale, running a hand over my jaw. “What are you doing back in town?”

Her gaze flickers past me. “Keith’s wedding.”

Ah. Of course.

“Right.” I nod, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Good to see you, by the way.”

She tilts her head slightly, studying me for a moment before responding. “You too.”

Silence lingers between us, thick with everything unsaid.

I should leave it at that. Walk away. But curiosity wins.

“How long are you staying?”

“A few weeks.” She shifts her bag on her shoulder, her posture straightening.

I nod slowly.

I wish I could think of something to say. Anything. But nothing comes.

“Well.” She clears her throat, as if pushing herself into motion. “I should go. It was, uh…, good to see you.”

“Yeah,”

She starts to walk past me, heading for the exit. I watch her, and for some reason, I can’t stop looking. I can’t tear my eyes away until she disappears out the door.

“Blake!”

I turn around, and there’s my mom, coming toward me with that signature smile. She wraps her arms around me, and I return the hug tightly.

“There’s my boy.”

“Good flight?” I ask, stepping back to look at her.

“Yeah, yeah, but I missed you.” She leans up to kiss my cheek, the warm pressure lingering.

I smirk. “It’s only been a couple months.”

“Too long,” she huffs, looping her arm through mine.

I smile at her, the familiar weight of her love comforting, grounding me.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say.

“Yeah. I have so many gifts for the kids -you have no idea.” She bounces a little, grinning.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I guide her toward the car. But as we drive off, my mind drifts back to Whitney.

Years apart, and in a few seconds, she has managed to stir things up in me.

****

As soon as I step through the front door, I hear the rapid patter of little feet against the hardwood floor.

“Daddy’s home!”

“Dadda’s home!”

Mia and Nico come racing toward me, their little faces lighting up with excitement. I barely have time to brace myself before they crash into my legs, hugging me tight.

I laugh, scooping them both up, one in each arm, pressing kisses onto their heads. “Hey, kiddos. Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” They chime in unison.

“We watched TV, and we played, and we ate lunch, and…,” Mia starts listing off their day, her little hands gesturing dramatically.

“…and I beat Mia in the dinosaur race,” Nico adds proudly.

Mia huffs, crossing her arms. “Only because you cheated.”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not times infinity!”

“All right, all right, we’ll settle this later.” I chuckle, setting them back down.

“Welcome home, Mr. Lennox.”

“Thank you Ruth. You can go home now if you want.”

“I definitely will. Bye sir, and bye kids.”

“Say bye to Miss Ruth,” I say to the kids.

“Bye, Miss Ruth.”

“Now, wait one moment,” I say, placing my hands on my hips before lifting them one after the other, “I know when I left home, you guys were lightweight and small. Did you grow while I was gone? You feel bigger.”

“Nooo…,” Mia giggles.

“Yes!” Nico argues, puffing out his chest. “I ate all my carrots today. Miss Ruth said I’m gonna be as big as a goalie one day!”

“Oh yeah?” I ruffle his hair. “Gonna take my spot on the Avalanche, huh?”

“Yup.”