Page 37

December

S nowflakes as big as cotton balls fall down around us as everyone skates around the outdoor rink where the Winter Classic game will be played tomorrow at the Minnesota Thunder’s baseball stadium in St. Paul.

The family skate is a tradition they do for each team the day before the game. With this year’s Winter Classic falling on New Year’s Day, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend our New Year’s Eve than with our close friends and family.

“Are you ready for this, Scar?” Gunner asks me as Bennett takes off his skate guards and double checks the straps on Gunner’s helmet.

“I’m ready,” I tell him, aiming my phone at him and pressing record.

Gunner steps onto the ice and instead of the unsteady steps he took in the fall, he glides across the ice with practiced strides.

My cheers of surprise have him stopping, which has me cheering even louder.

“Oh my goodness, when did you learn how to stop?”

Gunner takes off as fast as he can skating back toward me before stopping again. “Bennett teached me!” God, I love this kid so much.

Strong arms wrap around me from behind and I melt into Bennett’s embrace as he kisses my temple.

“I’ve been taking him skating with Griff, Cadence, Carson, Leo, and Lainey each week after I do school pick up when you have your late meetings.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, he wanted it to be a surprise. ”

Tugging his arms tighter around my waist, I reply, “Bennett, you don’t need to apologize. This is the best surprise!”

We stay wrapped in each other’s arms as we slowly trail behind Gunner.

It’s only then that I watch Gemma spin on the opposite side of the ice accompanied by Nathan Connelly.

The rookie takes her hands in his briefly before grabbing her waist and lifting her in the air over his head.

The move looks practiced—rehearsed—which is unsettling.

“That’s weird. Each time I asked Gemma if she wanted to skate, she said she wasn’t ready to be on the ice yet. But she looks . . . familiar with Connelly,” Bennett points out.

“Didn’t Nathan say that his mom used to teach figure skating classes and that’s how he got so good at his edgework in an interview earlier this season?” I ask Bennett.

“Yeah, but he didn’t say he was a pairs partner ever. I think I should go warn our rookie not to hurt himself with those dangerous moves right before a big game,” Bennett suggests but I stop him before he can go intervene.

“Let’s just watch to see what happens. It’s not a terrible thing to see Gems skating again. I mean, look at the smile on her face. I’ve missed seeing that.”

When Nathan sets Gemma back down on her skates, they stride in sync, and it’s uncanny the way they mirror one another like that. Their movements are halted when Colton and Eva skate up to them.

I remove my prying eyes from them when Kenna skates up to me. “Scar, these jackets are amazing. How did I not know you were a designer?” She makes a show of pointing out her favorite parts of the jacket.

My cheeks heat from Kenna’s compliment. “Oh, I’m not. ”

Kenna chuckles and shakes her head. “I’d beg to differ.

The group picture I posted of the players’ significant others in our jackets is blowing up with comments of people asking where they can get their hands on them.

I’ve already had wives from three other teams asking if they can have the name of the designer so they can get custom jackets made for their teams.”

Bennett unwraps his arms from around my waist. “Scar is being modest. She’s most definitely a designer.

And a talented one at that.” His praise has me turning bashful.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Red, the guys were asking about the jacket you designed for my birthday. They wanted to know if you’d make them one of their own. ”

The Classic jackets were something I came up with a few weeks ago when I was designing Bennett’s birthday jacket.

For the significant other’s jackets, I went with a mid-length black puffer style with lime green, oversized zippers and matching patchwork.

Each jacket is customized with lime green stitched last names on the lower back to accommodate for longer hair with their players’ numbers above the last names.

The team logo is on the front left panel of the jacket with Minnesota written down one sleeve and Wolverines down the other.

Griff comes over to us with Rowen in his arms and Cadence skating behind him.

“Where’s Gunner?” Cadence asks me, and I point over to where he’s now skating with Nathan. Cadence zooms across the ice to join them.

Griffin narrows his eyes at Bennett. “What are you going to do about that?”

“About what?” Bennett questions.

Griff scoffs. “About the fact that Gunner has heart-eyes for my daughter. ”

Bennett bends over in a fit of laughter. “G, get a grip. They’re kids. Cadence is eight, you can’t go all overprotective daddy-mode already or you’re going to have high blood pressure by the time she’s a teenager.”

That makes Griff turn to Kenna and pout. “He’s not listening to me, Sunshine. I can’t handle our Little Ray having a crush already. It’s too soon.”

“She could have crushes on far worse kids than a good boy like Gunner, baby,” Kenna informs Griff, and her use of the term of endearment seems to relax him completely.

“You’re always right,” Griff tells her.

“Such a simp,” Bennett coughs out.

Griff winks at Kenna before wrapping his free arm around her and she swoons as she nuzzles into his side. “Proud member of the simp club for over a decade now. Let me know if you want a membership, Benny.”

Carson chooses that moment to skate up to us with Leo and Lainey in tow. “G, what’s the first rule of simp club?”

“You don’t talk about simp club,” Griff and Carson answer in synchrony.

“Exactly,” Carson says as he shakes his head. “Anyway, Benny’s already a member. Has been since he serenaded Scar at your bachelor party. Speaking of which, when are we having your bachelor party, Benny?”

Bennett shrugs. “I prefer not to make a big spectacle of it. Let’s just grab a whiskey together once the season is over or something. We’re not getting married until July.”

“Yeah, no,” Jackson says as he stops beside his brother. “There’s no way I’m not throwing you a bachelor bash. As your best man and only brother, I am making it my personal mission to make your grouchy ass let loose and have some fun. ”

“Well then we better have Scar join us,” Carson suggests. “She’s the only reason Bennett smiles. I think she cancels out the grump in him.”

“If that’s what it takes for you to agree to let me throw you a party, Scar is more than welcome to join.

I promise, no strippers or anything crazy.

But you only get married once, we’ve got to do this right,” Jackson points out and my stomach sinks.

He’s lying to all of his closest friends and family because of me.

I can’t stop the guilt from souring my mood.

“What do you say, Little Red? Maybe we could do a joint party and you can serenade me this time,” Bennett suggests and I smile at him but he must notice how it doesn’t reach my eyes. “We don’t need to figure it out right now. We’ve got plenty of time.”

I’m not sure if it’s the guilt or something else, but there’s a sudden sinking feeling in my gut that I can’t seem to shake.

Bennett

Later that evening as we’re getting ready for bed, Scarlett and I are brushing our teeth before she starts her elaborate skin care routine.

“Be honest, do you really think you need all of those elixirs in your twenties?”

She screws up her face at me. “Elixirs? I think you mean serums. And to answer your question, yes. If I take care of my skin in my twenties, my thirty and forty-year-old self will thank me. You know, now that you’re thirty-one, you should have your own skin care routine that consists of more than just using your body wash in place of a face cleanser. ”

“I’m pretty sure it’s all the same. You’ve just fallen victim to the beauty industry’s marketing,” I point out before tugging my shirt over my head and tossing it in the hamper.

“Ugh. How come you doing something as simple as putting your shirt in the hamper is so sexy?”

I waggle my brow at that. “Does my cleanliness turn you on, baby girl?”

“You know, it just might.”

Propping my hip against the bathroom counter, I watch in fascination as Scarlett puts a third product on her skin. “Is that the moisturizer?”

“No, that’s the last step,” she explains.

“How many steps are there exactly?”

“Tonight, only five.”

“Only five? As in some nights there are more? Like, how many more are we talking?”

“Some nights if I double cleanse because of a mask and then I still do my regular serums along with my night serum, then”—she pauses to count—“eight. Actually, no, nine.”

I nod as if that’s not completely ridiculous. She’s a marketer’s dream, having fallen right into their trap. “Wow. Well, what if I start out small with a cleanser and the moisturizer?”

“That would be a great first step,” she replies as she uses a dropper to pour an amber liquid onto her fingers.

“Okay, hand me your cleanser,” I tell her, holding my hand out. She squeezes a dime sized amount of product onto my hand and I stare down at it. “What am I supposed to do with that little of product?”

“A little goes a long way. Just wet your other hand and lather it into your skin,” she explains.

I do as she says, pretending to face the mirror while stealing glimpses of her beside me at her own mirror. “So,” I start but clear my throat. “It sounds like the jackets you designed were a hit. And Dakota mentioned you were already working on a design for when we make playoffs.”

I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this, but I want to let Scarlett know I’ll support her in any way I can.

“I love how you say ‘when’ not ‘if,’” she teases.

“Not making the playoffs is not an option,” I tell her. “What are you thinking for the jackets?”

“Well, I was thinking of designing a more lightweight jacket since we’ll be indoors instead of the puffer jackets for the cold outdoor weather,” Scar explains.

“That’s a great idea. I know Kenna had said a few wives from other teams messaged her. Would that be something you’d be interested in?”

“Sure, I’d love to design jackets for other teams, but I don’t exactly have a lot of spare time on my hands. Not only am I learning how to take over for my grandfather, but I’m also trying to plan a wedding while raising my two siblings.”

“I know. You wear so many hats, and yet you somehow manage to make it look easy.” I pause to rinse my face. “My offer to help you during the off-season still stands,” I remind her.

Scar turns to face me, propping her hip against the counter as I do the same. “It would be great experience for when you retire. You said you’re thinking GM or VP, right?”

“Yeah, that’d be the ultimate dream. But it’ll take time to work my way to one of those positions within an organization.”

She winks at me. “Well, considering your wife will be the owner of the team you’ve played your entire career for, I’d say you have an in with upper management.

And you’d be far more qualified for that role than I would be .

. .” Her words trail off as she gets a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s perfect,” she gasps.

My brows pinch in confusion. “What’s perfect? ”

“We’re already getting married so I can obtain ownership, but then once you retire, you could take over the day-to-day of ownership and I could pursue my passion for design or merchandising.” A wide, radiant smile splits her face, and I’m temporarily stunned speechless at the sight.

When I finally manage to find my voice, I point out, “There’s only one problem, Red. I don’t plan on retiring in the next three years. I’d only be thirty-four, and if I’m able to still play at the level I am now, I would like to play until at least thirty-five.”

She waves her hand dismissively at me as she closes the space between us. “So I wait it out another year, that’s not a big deal in the scheme of things. It’s much better than waiting until Gemma or Gunner would consider taking over ownership—a job I know Gemma has no interest in.”

Wait, now I’m even more confused. Scarlett was the one who was so concerned about sticking to the three-year agreement. Now she’s considering extending it, what, indefinitely? And not only that, but she’s trusting me to take over for her?

I must do a shit job of hiding my confusion and frustration because before I know it, Scar is stepping away from me, slowly backpedaling until she’s nearly out of the bathroom.

“Oh my gosh, I’m such an idiot. I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking. I’m going to go get a glass of water and head to bed.” She stumbles back a few more steps. “Good night, Bennett.”

“No. Scar, let’s talk about this,” I start but clamp my mouth shut, flexing my jaw in frustration as she hurries out of the room.

What the fuck was that? I can’t seem to keep up with or get a read on Scarlett’s stance on us. One minute I think she’s falling for me as hard as I’m falling for her, and the next I’m sure she’s dead-set on sticking to the originally agreed upon rules of no feelings and a three-year timeline.