Page 97 of One Good Puck
Well, damn. I can’t help but grin harder at how teasing and playful Abby is being.
“Coach Porter, you look pretty happy. Are you smiling like that because you won tonight?”
I look up and notice the entire room full of reporters is focused on me.
My smile fades. I frown and put my phone away. “Uh, yeah.”
I notice Xander scrunches his lips, like he’s trying not to laugh. I glare at him.
“I don’t think you’ve ever smiled like that during post-game press,” another reporter comments.
I bite back an annoyed sigh. The last thing I need is abunch of reporters to know that I’m flirting with Abby over text.
“I’m very pleased with my team’s performance tonight,” I say gruffly. I glance up at Ryker, who’s standing a few feet from me. “I was impressed with St. George’s slapshot.”
Ryker raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not buying it. Neither do most of the reporters in the room, judging by their confused expressions.
“You were smiling at your phone screen because you were excited about your player’s slapshot?” one reporter asks.
I start to sweat, feeling the heat of their disbelief. But I try to play it off with a frown and a no-nonsense response.
“Yeah. I was. Any other questions?”
I answer a couple more questions about the game. Post-game press ends, and I walk out of the media room with Ryker and Xander.
“Way to play that off, Coach,” Xander teases as we head down the hallway.
“Watch it, Williams.”
He grins and adjusts the Bashers baseball cap he’s wearing backwards on his head. “You were texting Abby, weren’t you?”
I huff out a sharp breath, annoyed at how quickly he figured that out. Ryker gives me a curious look.
I think about lying, but it’s no use. Xander knows me. He’s played for me for three years. He’s engaged to my daughter. He’s figured me out by now.
“Am I that obvious?” I say, loosening my tie.
Xander laughs. “Yeah. You only smile like that around her.”
He and Ryker walk off toward the locker room. I headto my office, silently acknowledging that Xander is right. No one makes me smile quite like Abby.
When I arrive home and walk into the living room, I see Abby on the couch with Emma. She’s sleeping with her head on Abby’s lap.
I smile at the cute scene. “How’s she feeling?” I ask softly.
“A lot better. She should be fine to go back to school the day after tomorrow,” Abby says.
“Glad to hear that.”
She aims a warm smile at me. “Thank you for doing our laundry earlier today. You didn’t have to.”
“It was no problem.” I strip off my suit jacket and hang it over the back of the armchair next to the couch, then sit down.
Abby shakes her head. “I’m sorry I left her dirty bedsheets and clothes in a pile in the hallway,” she says. “I meant to get a load started, but she woke up earlier than I thought she would and wanted a snack, and I got sidetracked and forgot all about the laundry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Abby. It wasn’t a big deal at all. I remember what it’s like to have a sick kid. It drains all your energy.”
She lets out a tired chuckle. “You’re right about that. Oh, and thank you for stocking all those different flavors of Gatorade. Emma was so sick of drinking ginger ale.”
