Page 5 of ICED
The oven beeps. I bend down to slide in the first batch, and when I stand, he’s already cleaned the mixing bowls. I didn’t even ask.
Okay. Maybe he’s not terrible.
Still. This doesn’t change anything.
He’s here for a few weeks. A PR thing. A timeout for bad behaviour, probably. Guys like him don’t stick around. Guys like him don’t settle. And even if they did, they wouldn’t settle for someone like me.
Someone with cracks.
Someone with baggage.
Someone with a three-year-old daughter who still checks the locks twice before bed.
There’s a reason I moved across the country. A reason I sleep with the bat under my bed, even though I tell myself every night that we’re safe.
So no, I don’t care how gentle his hands are or how good his lemon-poppyseed story was.
I’m not looking for a distraction.
Especially not one who smells like warm sugar and trouble.
But when Lila barrels into the kitchen an hour later, allmismatched socks and bright smiles, Jacko kneels without hesitation and says, “Hey, little lady. Wanna help me count how many cupcakes we made?”
And she beams.
God help me.
So do I.
CHAPTER THREE
JACKO
There’s something about the way Mia digs her elbow into my shoulder like she’s trying to tenderise a steak that makes me wonder if physios get a secret bonus for every grown man they make squeal.
“Breathe, Jacko.”
I grunt. “I am breathing. Through the pain. Through the betrayal.”
Mia snorts. She’s perched on her rolling stool beside the treatment table, her dark hair tied up in that no-nonsense bun she always wears on physio days. Her fingers are digging into the tight knot just under my collarbone like she’s mining for gold.
“This isn’t betrayal. This is me trying to keep your shoulder from seizing up and ending your season early.”
I shift on the table, wincing. “Feels like betrayal.”
“Tell it to Dave.”
That earns a laugh out of me, short and barked. “Don’t bring Dave into this. Dave’s innocent.”
“Dave’s a sourdough starter.”
“Dave’s family.”
Mia just shakes her head, biting back a smile. “God help me, I forgot how weird you are.”
She says it fondly, like she’s used to the weird. And I guess she is, being with Dylan. That man’s got the emotionalrange of a bulldozer and the grace of a wrecking ball, but he’s solid. Loyal. And mad about Mia, which kind of makes her part of The Raptors family whether she likes it or not.
She adjusts her grip, pressing her thumb right into the edge of the joint. I flinch.
