Page 37 of The Cupcake Cottage

“Sheiswelcome.”

“She wants something real.” She was eyeing him again. “And you need to figure out what you want.”

Maverick muttered, “I know what I want.”

He wasn’t like Myles when, only a year ago, his friend had used him as a sounding board to help him figure out if Daisy-Mae was The One and if he should reignite things between them again.

If a woman was The One, you shouldn’t have to ask a friend. You just knew.

And unlike Myles, he didn’t have to ask anyone.

** *

Daisy-Mae held Maverick’s hand as Leo, the team’s rookie, said grace. Several players from the team had joined them forsupper since they had played a Thanksgiving game last night and didn’t have time to fly home to visit their families for the holiday.

This was Daisy-Mae’s second meal since she’d spent last night with her parents, her father managing to get the day off for the first time in eons. More years than not, her mother’s lack of interest in the holiday had sent Daisy-Mae to spend Thanksgiving at the Wylders’ as an extension of their large family. This year, even though it felt slightly awkward being in Maverick’s woman-free zone, she hoped this new NHL family filled the large Wylder family void.

To her right, at the head of the table, was Maverick. His mother, Carol, was at the opposite end. Violet was to Daisy-Mae’s left, and Leo had grabbed a seat beside her. Across from Daisy-Mae was Dak, one of Maverick’s old friends, who now worked with the Dragons Charity for Sick Kids. Beside him sat Jenny, a friend who owned the Blue Tumbleweed clothing store in town and who had been flirting and joking with Dylan, a player roughly the same age as Maverick, all evening.

As Leo finished saying grace, Daisy-Mae kept her eyes closed for an extra second, making a silent wish that her friends Jenny and Violet would soon find reciprocated true love. As she opened her eyes, she realized she probably should’ve made the wish for herself as well.

“Are we missing someone?” Daisy-Mae asked, referring to ninth chair which sat empty. Carol had insisted they buy it, and Maverick had fixed it as though it would be needed tonight. But there were only eight people at the table.

“You always want to have an extra chair,” Carol said.

“It’s a thing,” Maverick mumbled to Daisy-Mae.

“A sign of a welcoming home,” Carol said to Daisy-Mae as though this explained everything.

“It’s for unexpected guests,” Maverick whispered.

“Spirits?” Violet whispered loudly, leaning forward, her round eyes on Carol.

Jenny giggled and shook her head at Violet.

By the time dessert rolled around—pie and cupcakes—the table had gotten louder and louder with laughter and stories.

“You don’t get dessert on your plan,” Dylan said to Maverick, hobbling over in his air cast to swipe the cupcake off his plate.

“What?” Maverick looked so startled Daisy-Mae started laughing. Across from her, Dak joined in.

“You’re almost as old as I am!” Maverick made a grab for the cupcake, but Dylan licked the top of it, claiming it.

“You’re both too old to have dessert,” Leo called out.

Dylan and Maverick, both close to aging out of the NHL, turned to him, their expressions dark.

Leo gripped the edge of the table as though preparing to run, his eyes wide.

“What was that, Socks?” Maverick asked, his voice low.

“You calling us old?” Dylan chimed in.

“Just sayin’…” Leo pushed his chair back a bit. “You know…with your broken foot and all… Rehab might be lengthy at your age and you might not—”

Dylan made a quick motion on his good foot as though he was going to lunge at Leo. The rookie jumped up so fast his chair tipped back and hit the floor.

The table erupted in laughter.

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