Page 61 of The Slapshot and the Single Mom
I kiss her again. She’s adorable and happy, and I can’t help it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“What about you?” she asks, looking at me anxiously. “Did you have fun?”
Laughing again, I nod. “I did. I’ve never been on horseback before, but it felt good.”
“You’re both naturals!” calls the guide from our ride who’s taking the saddle off his own horse, having handed over mine and Maggie’s horses to other people to take care of. We could’ve gone on a group ride, but I decided to pay extra and keep it private just for us. We’ve been out in the public eye a lot more the last few weeks, including going to another baseball game a couple weeks ago with Dozer and Marissa. While it was fun, there’ve been a lot of photos of all four of us floating around ever since.
I’m not sure if that’s what’s been bothering Maggie lately. When I’ve asked, she always shakes her head and says it’s no big deal, but I can tell something’s off. I point blank asked if I’d done anything to upset her when we talked on the phone earlier this week, and she reassured me that wasn’t the case. “You’re amazing, and I feel lucky I get to spend time with you,” were her exact words. Since she doesn’t use a lot of hyperbole when talking about positive feelings, I’ve taken her at her word.
I asked about work, and she brushed it off, saying her boss is his usual asshole self, but that it’s no surprise and she knows how to handle him. The only other thing I can think it might be is her upcoming court stuff with her ex.
I know she filed to change the custody agreement, and while she’s told me about the dates for mediation and the hearing, she’s been pretty light on details other than that. She said she doesn’t like talking about it because it makes her anxious, which makes me think that’s the most likely cause for her recent distraction and low level anxiety. It’s made me extra determined to make our date nights as fun and stress free for her as possible.Which I’ve come to learn means not making her choose all the time.
When we first started dating, I thought she’d welcome getting to pick our activities. But she seems to like it best when I either offer her a couple of choices based on things going on in town that weekend or pay attention when she makes passing comments, like about horseback riding, and make it happen.
Once we drove past a new restaurant, and she said, “Oh, that sounds like a fun place to try.” So I made us a reservation for the next weekend.
Seeing her this happy has me feeling a little more relaxed. If I can keep making her happy, then at least she’ll have something in her life to look forward to even when other things—like her ex and how he’s jerking around their kid—make her stressed.
“What should we do now?” I ask, lacing my fingers with hers as we head back to my car.
Her coy smile in the low light of dusk makes me grin. “Hmmm. I think we should head back to your place.”
“Oh, yeah? What should we do there?”
She laughs, the sound light and easy, and I love it. I want to hear that sound as often as possible. Every day would be great, though I know that’s not possible right now. Not with the fact that she has a kid and custody court dates looming over her. Even if she didn’t have a kid, it’d be too soon to discuss moving in together—I’ve witnessed that go wrong with teammates enough times that I’m not dumb enough to think I’ll be an exception.
But Iwishit were an option to see her every day. Or at least more than once a week. Even if it was just dinner together a few nights a week. I don’t want to push, though. Not where her kid is concerned. She’s understandably hesitant about disrupting his life too much.
I just want to be able to be there for her. To help her as much as she’ll let me. I know she can take care of herself. She’s strong and independent, and I don’t want to take that away. I only want to be someone she can lean on so she doesn’thaveto do it all on her own. I see the way it wears on her, and I know that’s why she likes not having to make all the decisions when we’re together. She has to manage everything else all the time, and it’s a relief to not have to be in charge for once.
Obviously she’d still be in charge if I came over for dinner. She has a kid to take care of. I have no desire to get in the way of that. I just want to do the dishes or help her cook and be there to relax with her after she gets Liam to bed.
Even if I’m jumping the gun with that, even if that’s not possible for months yet, I still like the idea of it. It’s something to work toward. And I know once the season starts, I won’t be available as often either, so we’ll have to make adjustments to our Friday night date schedule. But we’ve made it work so far. I’m confident we can figure it out.
She bumps her shoulder against my arm as we get close to the car. “Everything okay in there? You got really quiet all of a sudden.”
I smile at her, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “Everything’s perfect. I’m with you. We’ve had a great date. And now we get to go back to my place for dessert.”
She laughs uproariously. “Dessert, huh? Didn’t we have that with our picnic dinner?”
My grin turns wolfish. “Second dessert.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” she murmurs as I unlock the car and open her door for her.
“Absolutely.”
Once we’re back at my place, our mouths are fused and we’re tugging at each other’s clothes, dropping things as they come off, leaving a trail behind us on the way to my bedroom.
Maggie’s naked by the time we’re in my room, and I’m down to my underwear. I have her boosted up, her legs wrapped around my waist, and a laugh bubbles out of her when I gently toss her onto the bed. She lands with arms and legs splayed, reaching for me when I climb over her, her smile making her look even more gorgeous, her hands caressing my face, warmth and affection clear in her eyes.
I settle over her, turning my head to place a kiss in her palm. “I love you, Maggie,” I whisper, the words coming out before I can stop them. I’ve thought it enough times over the last couple of weeks. But I’ve hesitated to say it, worried it might be too much, too soon.
Her lips part on a sharp inhale at my words, and she searches my face, the way she always does when she wants to make extra sure I’m being serious. Then her face relaxes, the warmth coming back to her expression, her lips curving in a faint smile. “I love you too, Jack,” she whispers back.
And if there were any shred of doubt that this woman is perfect for me, those words effectively erase it.
She reaches down and shoves at the waistband of my underwear. Grinning, I take over, pushing them down until I can kick them off and reaching for a condom. She plucks the packet out of my fingers and rips it open, looking adorable as she examines it to find the right side.
