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“I know, I know.” She patted my hand. “But neither Lars nor the baby are your responsibility. The man has the resources of a billion-dollar franchise at his disposal. The baby will be fine.”

Would she? Was that the only concern, that she was fed and sheltered?

I hated to think of her most basic needs being efficiently met yet no one was worried about the impact this change would have on her emotional growth and development.

But Aurora was right: not my monkeys, not my circus.

That should have left me relieved instead of irritable.

“I’ll let you sleep.” I rinsed out my cup and put it in the dish rack. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Or I can just drop in for breakfast tomorrow and hear it myself. I assume the baby’s staying the night here?”

“Where else?” Lars had my parents wrapped around his little finger.

Aurora stood and gave me a hug. “I’m so glad you’re home, honey. I’ve missed you. Talking on video call wasn’t the same.”

“No, it wasn’t. I missed you so much.” Seeing her in person reminded me that she wasn’t getting any younger.

I wanted to hear her stories, learn all about her daughter, the grandmother I never met who had died when my dad was a teen.

“Could I come see you tomorrow? I’d love to chat about you , not all this Rebels drama. ”

I also needed some homespun wisdom to get me through the next few weeks and months. Aurora always knew the right thing to say, plus she was a hoot.

“I have Tai Chi in the morning, so stop by in the afternoon.”

With one last kiss to her forehead—she was a tiny thing—I returned to the house, back through the front door.

Standing at the entrance to the kitchen, I remained half-hidden so I could assess the situation.

Mom was at the stove heating up some of the formula Vicki had included in the diaper bag.

Dad was inventorying the baby supplies on the table.

Eggsbee snored softly in his doggie daybed.

As for Lars? The man of the hour was holding the baby, probably under sufferance. Yet my heart contracted at the sight.

He still looked scared, but there was something else.

Curiosity. Like the baby was a puzzle.

I found this amusing, and because I found it amusing, I was no longer angry with him.

Aurora was right, I needed to be kinder about this.

Maybe he wasn’t going to bail as soon as someone said he could do so legally.

Or maybe he would. But you know what? It was none of my business. Lars Nyquist was none of my business.

That torch I’d carried was well and surely doused. A man who could barely look at his own flesh and blood was not romance material. I could move on, not even be embarrassed about what happened last year because Lars had shown me a side of himself I didn’t enjoy.

Then he caught my eye and arched an eyebrow as if to say, can you believe it? And there went my heart again, skittering like an oversexed bunny.

Yeah, I could believe it. I could believe that this man could assess a situation, recalibrate as needed, and figure out a new game plan.

Hockey players were professionals at adapting.

That initial panic appeared to have subsided, and in its place was a man who saw a challenge. Who might even be up to it.

Was that sexy? It shouldn’t have been, but maybe I saw sexiness in everything Lars Nyquist.

“Addy.” My dad smiled at me. “Could you do me a favor and get the second bassinet out of the basement? And anything else you see down there that might be useful?”

Lars looked up with a frown. “Kershaw, you don’t need to give me all this stuff.”

“Why not? Unless you’re planning on sending your non-existent PA out to shop for you, you may as well take it. And our help.”

Lars gave a brusque nod, followed with a quick glance my way. “Thanks, Adeline.”

It didn’t take long to find what we needed. My mom had packed everything away, labeling all the plastic totes clearly. Clothes, toys, equipment. Through one of the transparent boxes, something familiar caught my eye.

Bear! My soft teddy, given to me by Erik Jorgenson, the legendary former Rebels goaltender. I’d been obsessed with it as a kid, and the way my life had been going lately, I probably wouldn’t mind holding onto it to see me through the night.

Something else in the box snagged my attention—blue copybooks.

I opened one and flipped through the pages of stats in my girlish script.

I wasn’t sporty like the boys, but this was my way to contribute to the Kershaw family business.

After each game, I would show my dad how he’d done, as if he didn’t have a team of experts at Rebels HQ to give him the goods.

Your TOI isn’t as good these last three games, Dad.

That’s one of the stats GMs care most about!

And points are becoming really important to defense.

I’d obviously read that somewhere. I lived in constant fear of my dad being traded, taking me away from my best friend Rosie and upending my life as I knew it.

“I can take that.”

I jumped so high, I almost hit the low ceiling. I turned to find Lars at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry, thought you heard me.” He stepped forward, out of the shadows, and took a long, hard look at me. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

Closer again. “You’re shaking.”

I inhaled a couple of short, sharp breaths. “Just got a fright, that’s all.”

His look of concern almost undid me. I turned away, grabbed Bear, and placed it in the tote box along with the supplies.

“That’s your guitar, I’m guessing,” he said.

I looked at the instrument’s hard case in the corner, covered in Hello Kitty stickers and other labels that screamed “little girl.” “That’s my old one. My newer one, a Martin, is upstairs. But it needs to be restrung after I was away for so long. Old strings become brittle and prone to breaking.”

Quit your babbling. You’re worse than Mabel.

“I bet Tilly will love hearing whatever new songs you come up with.”

Nonsense songs for babies were about the limits of my intellect right now.

Lars reached for the bassinet and our hands brushed. I pulled back quickly, not liking how I felt around him, all fluttery and floaty. I should have been over it, and now this new situation was dragging me into his orbit again. This crush needed to die.

He frowned. “Adeline, are you still pissed at me?”

Yes, but not because of what you think. “No. I’m sorry I got all judgy back there.”

“I get it. I didn’t respond as graciously as I could have. It was a knee-jerk reaction to very surprising news. I’m not even sure she’s mine.”

“Mom says she has your eyes.” I agreed. I’d spent enough time gazing into them at the Empty Net. That kid was Lars’s through and through.

“Not sure that’s definitive. People say I don’t look like my dad but there’s no doubt I’m his son.”

He sounded somewhat bitter, though whether it was because of the lack of likeness or the certainty that he was Sven Nyquist’s son, I couldn’t discern.

I didn’t know the entire story, but I gathered the gambling issues had driven a wedge between them.

I couldn’t imagine never speaking to my father, or him leaving this earth knowing I didn’t want to see him.

I searched for something to say to smooth over the awkwardness.

“Not sure I look like my dad all that much. The boys all do.”

“You favor your mom more. But your eyes—those are the Kershaw green. And beautiful.”

My body flushed, but then I remembered that he was likely trying to pacify me because he needed my family’s help.

“Spend a lot of time gazing into Theo Kershaw’s eyes, do you?”

“Gotta practice our telepathy for the games, y’know.”

I laughed. It wasn’t so much funny as it was a welcome release of tension.

Another tilt of his head. “Are we friends again?”

“We weren’t before.”

“But everything’s changed. And I need all the friends I can get right now, Adeline.”

Adeline. It sounded sensual on his tongue.

Above our heads, the faint cry of the baby could be heard. Lars winced at the reminder that his life had changed irrevocably.

“I’d better see what the little madam wants.” He took a step back with the bassinet and one of the larger totes. “Thanks for your help. I won’t forget it.”