Page 102 of In Your Wildest Dreams
I blow out a breath and peek over the top of the stroller at Callum. His eyes are open, but he’s just laid back, chubby fingers in his mouth and completely unfazed. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute or I might have left you a couple miles back.”
Leo chuckles and takes the stroller back from me. “Same time tomorrow?”
I don’t bother responding as I lift a hand in a tired wave and head inside.
I find Bridget in the shower. She smiles shyly as I step in to join her.
“Hi.” She rubs sudsy hands over her stomach and breasts. “Tough run?”
“I learned a hard lesson about physics and weight distribution.”
“O-kay.” Her brows scrunch together.
“Leo brought Callum in a jogging stroller. It’s harder than it looks,” I explain.
A smile spreads across her face. “I cannot picture you running with a stroller.”
“I looked cool as hell. I’ve got future DILF written all over me.”
Sliding a hand over her wet skin, I rest my hand on her hip and pull her closer. My lips brush over hers quickly. I know she doesn’t have time for what’s on my mind so I let her go.
“I was thinking, we should go on a date.”
“A date?”
“Yeah, a date. We put on clothes, leave the house, go eat some food, maybe see a movie or…whatever.”
The spark in her eye is at odds with her initial hesitation. “When?”
“Tomorrow night? We don’t have a game and you’re off work, right?”
“Okay.” She moves to stand under the spray of water, rinsing off the soap. “You’re not worried about being seen out with me? You’re kind of a celebrity around this city. Even if we don’t run into Gabe, it’s possible it’ll get back to him.”
“It won’t. Trust me. I know just the place to go.”
* * *
When I pull up behind the building twenty minutes outside of the city, Bridget looks unsure.
“Where are we?”
“You’ll see.” I hurry out of the truck and around to her.
Together we walk, hand in hand, into the old ice rink. It’s a far cry from the big and fancy arena where the Wildcats practice and play, but the sounds and smells are the same.
The game has already started, but we find seats behind the bench of the Mini Mite team.
Bridget’s mouth hangs open as she looks from the little kids skating around the ice to me. “What is this?”
“The Razzle Dazzle Unicorns.”
She laughs. “I’m sorry, what?”
“That’s the name of the team.” I unzip my jacket and show her I’m wearing a purple T-shirt that has the team name in bold across the front.
“How? And why?”
“I help coach when I have time.” Which lately hasn’t been much. “They’re actually pretty good. Watch number eleven.”
