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October

I ’ve only made it three steps into the house when McKenna’s dog, Ranger, comes barreling toward me. He leaps up to stand on his hind legs and assaults my face with kisses. I am so not a dog person. Or at least I wasn’t a dog person until I met this sixty-pound Golden Retriever whose personality is scarily similar to Carson’s.

Only after Ranger has thoroughly drenched my face in slobber do I hear someone command, “Ranger, down.” The voice isn’t one I recognize, and neither is the man in front of me. “That’s my goodest boy,” he coos to the dog as he pats his head.

The man notices my puzzled expression and introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Griffin. Kenna’s uh . . . I’m Cadence’s dad.” Griffin smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

He doesn’t offer his hand to shake, so I wave awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Griffin. I’m Dakota, Cadence’s nanny.” In the months I’ve worked for McKenna, we’ve talked from time to time. A few weeks ago, she mentioned Cadence’s dad for the first time, knowing he would be playing against Carson at his debut game this last weekend. She called last night to inform me that Griffin would be in town for a few days getting to know Cadence before he flies back to Colorado.

“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you. Kenna says you’re a miracle worker with Cadence.”

“Aw, I don’t know about that. But that little darlin’ sure makes it easy when she’s such a sweetheart.”

A door upstairs opens, followed by loud footsteps in the hallway. I’ve barely made out what he’s wearing as Carson struts down the stairs like it’s his own personal catwalk in full costume. He’s dressed in a deep purple suit, completing the look with light green hair and full Joker makeup.

Today is Halloween, and Carson clearly went all out with the themed costumes he picked out for Cadence, McKenna, and himself.

“There she is! Happy Halloween, Austin. I’ve got your costume upstairs in my room.” He thumbs behind him, before continuing, “I really outdid myself this year, if I do say so. Griff, I put your costume in the guest room.”

Griffin is now the one wearing a puzzled expression. “Austin?”

“Inside joke,” Carson replies without elaborating.

Griffin shakes his head, his face lighting up with a bemused smile before he heads up the stairs.

Carson watches him retreat for a second before he returns his gaze to me, tucking his hands into the pocket of his purple suit pants. How does this man even make a villain costume look attractive?

“So, what was today’s pick?” he asks.

I slowly blink at him, trying to solve the riddle he sometimes speaks in. “Pick?” I question.

He shrugs his shoulders, hands still in his pockets. The move would look downright adorably boyish if it weren’t for the way the creepy makeup on his face distorts his typical golden glow. “Yeah. Which book did you pick to read today?”

My cheeks heat the way they always seem to do under his attentive stare. “Oh, um, well, ever since I moved to Minnesota, fall has quickly become my favorite season.” I pause, clasping my hands together, before realizing what I’m doing and dropping them to my side. “The crisp air and falling leaves feel sort of whimsical, which puts me in the mood to read fantasy books.”

A lazy smile takes over Carson’s face as he stares at me. It’s unnerving having this man’s full attention and unyielding gaze on me.

“Fall just so happens to be my favorite season as well. In fact, Halloween is tied with Christmas for my favorite holiday.”

I chuckle at that tidbit. “You don’t say . . . I would’ve never guessed,” I say sarcastically.

“I know, I hide it pretty well. I’ve been told I have a great poker face,” he goes on.

“You have not,” I tell him in a fit of laughter.

“Alright, so I’m not exactly the best at holding back my emotions. But isn’t that a good thing? When I like something, there’s no hiding it,” he explains, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“I suppose it’s not a bad thing,” I admit, hugging my arms to my chest. “Hey, did you say you had my costume upstairs?” I ask, and he nods in response. Dipping my head, I give him a shy “thanks” in response before slipping past him to get changed.

Upstairs on the bed, his bed, is a shirt that says “Daddy’s Lil Monster,” pleather pants that are red and blue, hightop Converse sneakers, and a blonde wig that is already pulled up into two pigtails, one dyed red, the other blue.

Dear god, please help me. I can’t do this. I can’t go out in public looking like this. If a photo of me ever got back to Aaron somehow, he would probably kill me for looking so indecent.

A few minutes later, I crack the bedroom door open and peek my head out. I see two figures dressed in all black at the other end of the hallway. I recognize McKenna’s voice as she talks to Griffin. They are dressed as Batman and Catwoman, and Carson wasn’t lying, he really outdid himself. All of these costumes look as if he stole them from the production set himself.

McKenna turns toward me, and I see a smiling Cadence dressed up as Wonder Woman.

“Look at you, Cadence! I love your costume,” I say to her. She claps and squeals, her whole body going rigid in her mom’s arms with excitement.

“Are we going to your parents’ neighborhood to trick-or-treat?” Griffin asks.

“Yeah, I think Carson was just loading the stroller into his truck. Figured we could all ride over there together,” she replies.

The four of us head downstairs to the kitchen to pack up a few snacks for Cadence—because as sweet as she is, Cadence goes from fine to melting real quick when she’s hungry.

“I’ll get the snacks while y’all get her bundled up,” I suggest. It’s only October, but in Minnesota, it gets colder for Halloween. Or maybe this Texan just hasn’t adapted to the cooler climate.

Carson joins me in the kitchen once he’s loaded his truck. He walks up to me with a twinkle in his eye. “Harley-girl, you look amazing,” he compliments me as he grabs my right hand in his. “I almost forgot—a few of the accessories were still in my truck.”

Before I can pull my hand from his, Carson’s entire body goes rigid when he spots the bruises on my wrist. He doesn’t tighten his grip, but he gently tugs my wrist closer while thoroughly inspecting my purpling skin.

He drops the studded cuff from his hand and looks up, his gaze meeting mine. “How did you get these bruises?” he questions.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This can’t be happening. Why didn’t I just refuse to dress up? The sweater I was wearing covered my wrists, effectively hiding the bruises Aaron left there.

Think, Dakota.

I pull my hand from his grasp and try to play it off. “Oh, no. These look suspiciously worse than what happened.”

“Then what happened?”

“What happened?” I echo his question.

“Yes, what happened? And please start talking fast, Dakota, because my mind is drawing a lot of conclusions.”

I break eye contact with him, his piercing blue eyes feeling like they’ll probe the truth right out of me.

“My husband and I were, uh, well, you know . . . being intimate?” My face heats from the lie, but Carson must mistake it as me bashfully blushing.

“So, just to clarify, these dark bruises on your wrist were consensual?” he presses.

“Carson, this conversation is completely unnecessary. These are the results of a moment of passion,” I lie, intentionally avoiding answering his question. Though it isn’t too big of a stretch—they are the result of a passionate argument in which my husband laid hands on me for the first time.

Can I even classify it as “laying hands on me” when all Aaron really did was tightly squeeze my wrist for embarrassing him in front of my brother the other night?

Yes.

No. Everything is fine. Aaron apologized profusely the next day when he saw my wrist. He even brought me an ice pack and promised he’d never lose his temper like that again. Besides, I’ve already decided I’m filing for divorce the moment I can afford to cut ties. I just need to stand my ground and play the part of a doting wife for a few more months.

Instead of stewing on the way my heart sinks at that, I push past Carson to grab my jacket before heading outside to get in the truck. I need fresh air away from Carson’s imploring gaze.

We’re a few houses down the street from Carson and McKenna’s parents’ house when Carson gets recognized for the first time by a group of women in their early twenties. They ask Carson and Griffin if they can take photos with them, but Carson politely declines saying, “I’m sorry, ladies. We’re actually having some family time tonight. I would hate for the photos of what we’re dressed up as to circulate and ruin our disguises. I’m sure you can understand, right?”

The women all nod their head in understanding, and Carson gives them an appreciative grin, adding a wink for good measure that looks downright wicked with his Joker makeup.

At that, he turns and runs over to Cadence, crouching down to pick her up and lift her onto his shoulders. Cadence squeals in delight and grabs onto the longer, now green, hair on the top of Carson’s head.

“Ouch, Cadey Cat. Be careful with Uncle Car-Car’s hair.”

“Yes, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to those golden locks,” I tease. “Then what would the ladies have to grip on to?”

My eyes widen with panic. I’m not sure what possessed me to go there, but I regret the words the moment they’ve left my mouth.

Carson turns around to walk backward, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he slows his pace until I’m nearly toe-to-toe with him. “Are you flirting with me, Harley-girl?”

This man and his nicknames.

Also, am I flirting with him? I’m not even sure I remember what flirting is. But if the lowering of his voice and slightly crooked smirk on his face are any indication, I’d say he appreciates my accidental attempt at flirting. He’s stopped walking now and is looking down at me intently, almost as if he’s imploring me to play along.

Feeling slightly unsure of myself, I decide a change of subject and deflection is the right move here. “So, did you know those women back there, or is your costume maybe not as good of a disguise as you thought it was?”

He sends me a knowing look and softly chuckles at my pivot. “We went to high school with a few of them. My guess is they likely knew we’d be bringing Wonder Woman trick-or-treating around our parents’ block, and they wanted to shoot their shot.” I frown at that, and he casually shrugs his shoulders as if that kind of behavior is totally normal.

“I’ve had a lot of unwanted attention on me since high school. Things only got more intense after my college team won a national championship and I got drafted only a couple months later. I don’t enjoy being in the spotlight, especially when Cadence is with me, but it’s a small sacrifice to pay in order for me to play the game I’ve loved since I put on my first pair of skates.”

It must be the cold air or something because my eyes start to tear up of their own volition. I can’t imagine it’s easy not knowing people’s true intentions when you’ve got the level of popularity it sounds like Carson has had for years now.

“That sounds like it’d be really hard—lonely, even.”

“Ah, shucks. Are you worried about me, Super Nanny?” he playfully brushes off my comment. “It’s not so bad. Especially when I get to play with some of my former teammates, Bennett and Jackson Wilson. It’s been really good for me because they’re going through the same thing. Honestly, it’s even worse for Bennett—he’s been somewhat of a hockey prodigy from a young age. He was drafted first overall straight out of high school. The attention surrounding him would be far more suffocating. It’s probably why he has such a tough exterior.” Carson chuckles to himself. “I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime. Benny is a great guy, but he can come off as a standoffish dick from time to time.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got them.”

“And Griff too now. We might not be on the same team, but I’m hoping with him discovering Mack had Cadence that he will be around again more often.”

At the mention of her name, Cadence perks up and tugs on Carson’s hair again as if they’re the reins to steer him away from this conversation and back to trick-or-treating. I look over my shoulder to find Kenna and Griffin both staring at us with a few feet of distance between them. Kenna’s body language is guarded, and Griffin looks unsure of himself, like he wants to close the distance between them but isn’t sure if he should.

I turn back to Carson and point my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to walk with your sister for a bit. Why don’t you and Griffin bring Cadence to the next house?”

“Sounds good. Oh, and Austin, thanks for being such a good friend to Mack.” I’m about to respond when he cuts me off, lifting one of his hands from Cadence’s feet. “I know, I know. It’s part of your job. But that doesn’t mean I can’t thank you for being so good to my girls.”

I close my mouth and bite the inside of my cheek. He doesn’t have to thank me, because Kenna’s friendship has quickly become something I cherish.

And when he said his girls . . . I couldn’t help but wonder—what would it be like to be his?