Page 58 of Hockey 101

How do I count the ways? What’s that game where you shoot each other with fake guns?

Paintball? Laser tag? he asks.

Combat is not a date, I state firmly.

Jack chuckles and squeezes my hand. Oh, don’t worry. I know what women like to do on dates.

I scoff. Someone sounds overconfident.

He continues smoothly, Women enjoy something personalized. You know, when the guy has put some thought into what to do.

And you learned this through your past…uh, dating experiences? Great, Andy—way to mention his ex right off. He must enjoy that as much as I’d like to chat about Bryce.

You mean Cori? No, she usually decided that we were doing, although it turned out she hated that. Jack’s tone is matter-of-fact, with no bitterness or complaining. I learned from listening to my sisters complain about their dates.

You know, I don’t know very much about your family. Unlike me, Jack doesn’t overshare whenever he gets nervous.

I have three older sisters. Like, a lot older. Amelia, the youngest one, was ten when I was born. Margaret is two years older than her, and Bea, the oldest, is two years older than Margaret.

Wow, that is a big gap. There’s only a four-year gap between me and my younger brothers, which felt wide enough.

My dad was a widower, and my mom is his second wife. First, she was the family dentist. My sisters encouraged my dad to ask her out. There aren’t a lot of dating options in a small town, and they thought she was the nicest one.

And it worked out, I say.

Jack chuckles. Well, he’s a bit shy, so he ended up going for a bunch of dental appointments until he could work up the courage.

I laugh. I can picture his whole family now. The quiet patriarch and three bossy, interfering daughters—women a lot like me. So, you grew up on a farm?

Yeah. A cattle ranch, actually. But my dad decided to retire from ranching, so he sold the place to Bea and her husband.

Your sister took over the business? Was there any pressure on you as the only son? I ask.

Nope. My dad’s not like that. It was pretty clear that Bea was the one who loved ranching the most. His eyes crinkle as he smiles. Is this what it’s like to be interviewed by you?

Sorry, I have a bad habit of switching into reporter mode. But I genuinely want to know more about your life outside hockey.

He shrugs. I’m pretty boring. Eat, sleep, play hockey. Actually, here’s a Sinclair family fact you might find interesting: Bea met her husband on a reality show.

What? That’s insane. Which one? I demand.

It’s called Farming for Love. It’s a Canadian show. They have four farmers on at a time, and each one gets to choose from seven available partners. And instead of only straight men, there are women and gay farmers on as well.

Wow, I never realized farmers were so desirable, I tease.

We sure are, ma’am, Jack drawls in a terrible Texan/Saskatchewan accent. I may have finally found something he’s not good at.

Did you know that there are farmer-only dating apps? he adds.

Wow, so you’re a farmer and a hockey player? You must be Canada’s sexiest man. I try to stay serious but dissolve into giggles.

Jack shakes his head. Yeah, I should go back home. I keep meeting women like you, who dislike hockey and rural life.

Hey, I grew up in a small town too, I protest.

And now you can’t wait to move to a big city, he points out.

Jack’s focused on the road, so I steal the opportunity to gaze at him. Good-looking and a good listener. Jack is all green flags.

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