Page 52 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
“What?” I ask around my second mouthful. I’m making an absolute mess, and I don’t care.
“It’s just fun to see someone else’s reaction to our test batch. I think he took my suggestions well.” The pride in her is softer when she’s teasing.
I take a giant third bite in answer, enjoying the way her head tips back as she laughs. I’ve missed that laugh.
“I take direction very well, bambina. You are the difficult one.” Dominick pats Avery’s knee and maintains his view of the ice rink.
It cracks a laugh through me, especially when he gives her a shifty side-eye.
Avery merely shrugs and takes another bite of her pretzel. “Perk of being the woman of the house.”
I will take a twice as difficult Avery if she wants to be the woman of my house. That thought spirals through me. I want a real relationship with her. Not one based on sex and fun and sneaking around the office.
I want to wake up with her in my bed, to bring her coffee and feed her breakfast, to have her sprawled across my couch to watch shows or read a book, to argue about what we’re going to order for takeout, to have her tell me to pick up my dirty socks and not leave my dishes in the sink.
My chest aches with the possibilities of making any of that true. I’ve been dreaming about her for so long, and having the reality within my grasp spreads a desperate feeling between my ribs.
I blink and find Avery examining me. “Where’d you just go?”
Shaking my head, I give her a half-hearted smile. “Nowhere important.”
She frowns at me, but a loudMomdraws her attention away. Her son is leaning over the edge of his team’s box.
Avery goes to him immediately, and even though he has his helmet on, I get a better look at him. Something familiar tugs at the back of my mind as he complains about number nine blocking him so much.
She brushes his helmet like it’s his hair and pouts down at him. It’s sweet. “What does your coach say?”
Charlie huffs. “That we’ll practice after the game, but we’re up again. And I don’t want someone else to do it to me, too.”
Her pout turns into a frown. “It’s a learning process, baby. Remember? We can’t be perfect all the time.”
He groans, head back to look up at her, but he doesn’t argue.
I sneak up beside them because I actually have experience with this. “Hey.”
Charlie looks at me, and again, I get that tinkling familiarity at the base of my skull that I can’t quite access. Is it because he’s Avery’s?
“I had that issue when I first started, too. Being smaller meant they could push me around, but there’s an advantage to it. They’re going to swing high, so duck and reach back with your stick to drag the puck with you. It’ll surprise them.”
“Like how?”
I mime it for him, ducking and pretending to scrape the stick behind me. He’s nodding when I stand up.
“How do you know my mom?”
The answer sticks to my tongue. I’m her boss. Her boyfriend. Her long-lost lover.And the longer I consider it, the more I think I could be your father. I clear my throat and say, “It’s complicated.”
“My friends say when adults say it’s complicated, that means they're dating.”
A buzzer sounds, and Charlie looks back at his mother. Avery smiles down at him. “Have fun. First and foremost. Fun.”
He sigh-groans but smiles at her. “Fine.”
And he’s being sent out on the ice.
Avery takes my hand, and we sit again. Her gaze stays glued to Charlie, but I watch her more closely. She’s closing down like she does at work. When she needs to compartmentalize.
I turn back to the game as a gong goes off in my head. And the truth sinks in. Charlie is mine. He has to be.
