Page 21 of Wake Me Up (New England Bay Sharks #5)

Cane is a big Cam Hardy fan—even though he plays for the Bruins—so when I see Cam skating toward me, I know what I’m going to do.

I know I’m a fucking weirdo when I keep doing this nice shit for these kids.

But they lost their father. They’ve been through hell, and if I can make them feel a bit better, I’m going to do it.

“Not only did I lose, but I also had to miss my daughter’s hockey game.” He shakes his head, but plasters on a grin to hide his disappointment. “Good game, brother,” Cam says genuinely, even though his team just lost. “Hard to take a loss, but if it’s to this team, I guess that’s all right.”

When he throws an arm around me, I pat his back. He’s one of the best in the league, but he’s also an all-around good dude too.

“Your daughter plays hockey?” I ask, and he nods proudly. “That’s badass, man,” I toss back because that’s cool as hell.

“You played a hell of a game, Hardy,” I say, giving his back one last smack before he releases me.

“Hey, do you have a few minutes after this to sign a couple of autographs for two kids who are fans of yours?” I pause, punching his arm. “Yeah, I know. They must have something wrong with them to be Bruins fans.”

“Ha-ha, so funny,” he utters, shaking his head. “Sure, man. Anything for a big dawg like yourself.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” I say before lifting my glove up.

Holding his fist up, he bumps his glove against mine and skates away.

I know the past couple of days have been tough on Cash and Cane. I hope this makes it a bit better.

“I can’t thank you enough for the tickets,” Freya’s dad says before holding his hand out toward his grandsons. “Or for introducing them to so many players. This will be a night they won’t forget—that’s for sure.”

I look over at Cane and Cash, who are showing each other all the autographs they got. Both are grinning ear to ear and look pretty damn happy.

Good. That was the goal for me tonight. Just take their mind away from everything else going on at home. They deserve that.

“It’s no big deal,” I say modestly. “Glad they had a good night and enjoyed themselves.”

Freya’s grandfather steps forward to talk, and in the past hour or so that I’ve been around him, I can tell he’s a bit of a hard-ass, but I can also sense it’s an act and he’s just one of those old men who thinks he’s funny.

“So, you’re trying to date my granddaughter, huh?” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

I look at his son-in-law, widening my eyes because I don’t really know what to say to this dude. I glance nervously back at the old man to find his eyes still on me, only he’s moved even closer.

“Ignore him. He’s a crazy fucker,” Freya’s dad says, shaking his head. “Cut it out, you old bastard, would you? He did a nice thing.”

“Nice things come at a cost, you know. I was a young man once before.”

“Yeah … when dinosaurs roamed,” he utters with a chuckle.

He turns his attention to me, thankfully being a buffer so that I don’t have to answer his father-in-law.

Instead, Frank walks off toward the boys, muttering so mething.

“That was a good game, Tripp. You know, I was worried about this season with Kolburne, but somehow, you fellas have pulled it together.”

“Thanks,” I say with a nod. “We’ve got a strong team, no doubt. I wasn’t sure how today would go. The Bruins always give us a run for our money.”

“It’s that damn Cam Hardy,” he says, shaking his head. “Then again, Walker James matches his talent and hustle.”

I smile, agreeing with him. “He does, and oddly enough, Walker was actually kind of, like, Cam’s replacement at Brooks University back in their college days. Coach LaConte lucked out big time when they gained Walker after losing Cam.”

“I’d say,” he says, eyeing me over. “I heard the Sharks got a new goalie. You’re not planning on retiring, are you?”

I have to chuckle at how straightforward he is for not being a reporter and not really knowing me. I don’t really know how to even answer it because I don’t know the answer myself.

“Nah. Not yet anyway.” I clap my hands lightly, ready to change the subject. “How’s Aviana doing? Happy to be home, I bet.”

He pulls his hat off, scratching his head before pulling it back down. “I think she’s doing all right. Better than the rest of us, I’m sure.” He grimaces. “Hate the thought of that little angel being on an operating table, you know.”

The fear is written all over his face, and I can’t say I blame him. Surgery is a big deal in any case, especially when it’s brain surgery. But it’s on a child. A tiny seven-year-old child. He has every right to be nervous.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine what y’all are going through.

Wish there were something I could do to help.

You know … Aviana,” I utter, not wanting to sound too invested because sooner or later he’s going to catch on that I care more than I should about Freya and her kids.

He’d probably assume I’m trying to take advantage of his widowed daughter, and I don’t want that.

“Giving us this night out helped the entire family.” His expression becomes somber as he watches his grandsons now talking to his father-in-law.

“The girls had a night in, and we all got to come out for this game and meet some of the best players in the NHL. Thank you, Tripp. Sure meant a lot to all of us.”

I fight the urge to shift around on my feet because even though he’s being nice as hell, he’s making me uncomfortable as fuck because he’s looking at me like I’m a great guy. In reality, I want his daughter—badly. But I am glad that I was able to help his family out, even if I wish I could do more.

“Boys, you ready to head home?” he calls to Cash and Cane. “Before your mama has my ass for having you out too late.”

As if on cue, Cash yawns. “Good idea. I have practice at seven thirty in the morning.”

Cane throws his arm around his brother lazily before rubbing the top of his head aggressively. “You’ll be okay, golden child. You’re good for it.”

When Cane drops his arm from his brother, he walks over to me and holds his fist out. “Thanks, Tripp.”

I bump my fist to his just in time for Cash to hold his out.

“Yeah, thank you. This was fun.”

“Anytime, really.” I mean it too. I like this family, and I’d get them tickets anytime they asked me.

Even though that’s weird.

Ol’ Grump—I mean, Gramp—surprises me when he holds his hand out. He doesn’t smile at me, but when I shake it, he nods once.

“Thank you,” he utters.

I try not to smile because it’s clear he’s putting his pride aside for a second.

Before he drops my hand, he moves closer to my ear so that only I can hear his words and gives my hand a firm squeeze. “Don’t hurt my granddaughter though, you hear? She’s special.”

“No, sir. I don’t plan to do that,” I answer promptly, not knowing what he expects me to say.

It’s not like we’ve even gone on a date or anything. This dude is getting ahead of himself.

They all turn and walk away, but before they get out of sight, I call after them.

“See you next week on the ice, Moneybags!” When he and his brother both look over their shoulder at me, I point toward Cane. “And you ought to join too.”

“Nah … but if you want to go to the indoor batting cages and hit a few, I’m all in,” he tosses back, amused.

And then they are gone, and even though I’m glad I got to see them … I wish like hell I could see their mom.