“How long has it been?” The words slipped out.

  His eyes met mine and he held my gaze before answering. “About six months.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, six months since she left, our marriage was over about two years ago.”

  “And what about you?” This time Dean took my left hand in his and his calloused thumb rubbed over my ring finger.

  “About the same,” I whispered. The signs were all there and I had ignored them. I left Chad six months earlier, but he had been sleeping with someone else for two years before that. I knew what it was like to live in an empty shell of a relationship.

  His hold on my hand was loose and I let it linger. My gaze went from my fingers to Dean’s hand to his eyes. My heart hammered in my chest. Was my hot neighbor going to kiss me? Was I going to kiss him? I could feel my upper body leaning in toward him, without any conscious thought from my brain. The wine had made the room just the perfect level of fuzzy and had given my brain a break from overthinking. While I rationalized, Dean bridged the gap between us and set his lips softly on mine, my hand still in his. The moan I didn’t know I’d been holding in escaped from between my lips and when he cupped my cheek with his free hand, holding me close to him, all the tension released from my body and I let him kiss me.

  I didn’t want to pull away from Dean’s soft lips, and he didn’t seem to want to stop kissing mine either. My body was screaming for him, but the cardboard box between us blocked my chest. I arched toward him, the ache for Dean spreading from my heart to between my thighs.

  It didn’t seem like there was anything that could pry this man’s lips from mine – and I wasn’t going to complain. A loud crash broke the spell and a smash of pink and black plates slid from the broken cardboard box I had been leaning on.

  Our eyes snapped open at the same time. Maybe Dean wasn’t psychic, but the ghost of his ex-wife’s dishes sure knew how to ruin a party.

  “Shit,” Dean muttered.

  “Let me help.” I looked around the room for a broom or anything I could sweep up the porcelain bits between us.

  “It’s getting late.” Dean sighed and didn’t meet my eyes.

  Nodding, I stood up. He didn’t have to spell it out. “Thank you for dinner.”

  Dean stood. “Let me walk you home.”

  Always the gentleman, I thought to myself – after kissing me and then basically kicking me out. “It’s alright. I should be able to make it twenty feet on my own.”

  “Not in those.” He pointed to my stilettos by the door. He attempted to bring levity to the situation, and I appreciated it. “Maybe it’s time to take the new ones for a spin.” The box from the undisclosed sender sat beside the front door. I pulled the tissue from the boots and put it, along with my leather boots into the box.

  With my feet safely planted in the very warm and very practical boots, Dean started to put on his big black boots.

  “Don’t. Please, Dean. I get it. You’re a gentleman.” I clicked the heels of the rubber-soled boots together. “But now that I’ve got these boots, I’ll be just fine.”

  Dean opened the door. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

  I nodded and stepped out into the dark cold night.

  “Amber?”

  I felt his hand on my wrist and turned. “Yes?” The snow was starting to fall and it would have been the most perfect romantic kiss of my life.

  “It’s not a good idea.” His lips formed a tight line.

  “I know, Dean.” I forced a smile. “I know.” Visions of a snow globe make out session disappearing faster than the Laketown sunset.

  Boots crunched on snow as I trod down Dean’s driveway and up my own. I knew that he was watching me, making sure I got home safely, and even though I understood, it totally wasn’t a good idea to bang my hot single dad neighbor days after meeting him, it still felt like rejection.

  Again.

  Seven

  Dean

  The night before didn’t feel real and the minute I blinked my eyes open I wondered if I’d dreamt about the kiss with Amber. The memory of her lips on mine played in a loop, and as the hot water from the shower beat down on my tired shoulders, my cock throbbed with its memory of Amber’s body pressed against mine. Somehow the woman embodied both a naïve sweetness and a coy seductress, a combination I didn’t think was possible, and was a big fucking turn on. My dick felt like it was going to explode just from remembering her in that gold zippered dress. I leaned my hand on the tile of the shower and I felt like a teenager again, groaning and shuddering as I came after only a few strokes. Thank god, I thought to myself. I needed to get that energy out of my body. There was no way I was going to go and bang my neighbor. That would make all of the summer street parties just a touch awkward, and I had Chloe to think about.

  As I lathered up my hair, the gold zipper appeared again, this time it was half undone, exposing Amber’s mid-back, complete with bikini tan line. And something that hadn’t happened in years, a second raging hard-on, told me that I was revisiting my horndog teenage years. I squeezed my eyes tightly and let the water batter my closed lids, but instead of that damn zipper disappearing from my mind, it continued its journey, each click of the tabs as they separated revealing more and more of Amber’s back.

  Fuck. I was screwed. I wasn’t going to be able to look at her without impure thoughts ever again.

  I twisted the shower knob to cold and grimaced as the freezing water sent goosebumps over my body, the stabbing pain of the cold water chased away that damn gold zipper.

  Chloe had finished a bowl of cereal and was playing on her phone when I walked into the kitchen. She tucked it under the table, thinking I hadn’t noticed.

  I held out my hand and tried to keep my voice calm. “Phone.”

  “Ugh, Dad.” She slapped the device into my hand.

  With the phone safely stowed in my pocket, I didn’t respond to her increasingly teenager-like attitude. Her school friends all seemed like good influences, but I knew that there were a few older figure skaters that I’d rather not see my daughter hang out with. One thing I was truly thankful for was the fact that the majority of the Laketown hockey players practiced at McManus Place. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to worry about any figure skater/hockey player drama for at least another ten years.

  The remainder of her cereal had already started to form a braille crust on my grandmother’s fine china.

  “Rinse your bowl,” I ordered.

  Chloe rolled her eyes, but picked up the bowl and rinsed it. “What’s with these dishes?” she asked.

  “They were your grandmother’s. I thought that we could use them instead of the other dishes.”

  Chloe held the bowl in her small hands and traced the scalloped gold edge. “They’re pretty.”

  I really didn’t care what they looked like. They could have been plastic from the gas station for all I cared, just as long as they weren’t Kira’s. A glance at the door and the boxes of thrift store dishes stacked beside it reminded me that yes, the evening with Amber had been real. “They are pretty. And we might as well use them instead of storing them in a box somewhere.” The words sounded like Amber’s, but as I looked at the dishes, I realized that my mom would have been happy that they were being used. And that Kira was out of the picture. She never said as much, but I knew that Mom didn’t trust my wife. Turns out she had been a much better judge of character than I was.

  It still tugged at my heart that Chloe didn’t look back at the car anymore when I dropped her off at school. I waited until I saw her bouncing backpack disappear inside the front doors and then headed to work.

  The mixture of gasoline, body odor, and a few other unidentifiable smells comforted me as I stepped inside the arena. There was no other place in the world, at least anywhere that I had been, that smelled like a hockey rink. What most people would define as stink, smelled like a hug from an old friend to me. Regrets about kissing my neighbor, worry about my daughter growing up without her mother, wondering if I’d ever get laid again, all disappeared with the smell of nacho cheese and stale popcorn. An hour before the players started arriving, I settled into my office and flicked on my computer to review some plays and check my email. The most recent, a message from Vincent sent at midnight last night, confirmed that there would be a new player on the roster. I almost spit out my coffee when I saw who it was.

  McManus had broken the bank. Excitement stirred in my guts, and it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that I was on my fifth black coffee of the morning.

  A quick knock on the door interrupted my visions of the Otters sweeping the playoffs. “Morning, Coach.” Pacey peeked his head in the door.

  “Morning, Pacey. You’re never going to believe who just got signed.”

  Pacey’s eyebrows rose to meet the bottom of his helmet. “Who?” He opened the door wider and stepped inside my office.

  The smile spread across my face before I could stop it. “If you could pick any northern professional player, out of any of them, who would you choose?”

  Pacey tilted his head thinking, and then he snapped his gaze to me. “Lockwood?”

  I snapped my fingers pointed at Pacey. “You’re good. And he’s starting next week.”

  Pacey’s mouth gaped open. “I wonder how much that cost McManus?”

  Gunnar Lockwood was the number one player in the league. He was big, fast, and feared. Signing a player like Lockwood this late in the season was unheard of but I didn’t care. “It’s the shot in the arm this team needs.”

  “I sure hope so.” Pacey leaned on his stick. “I’ve heard…” his voice trailed off.

  I looked up from where I had just scribbled Lockwood over the Lion’s position in the starting lineup. “What? What have you heard?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Pacey turned to leave. “I’m going to go set up the drills.”

  I held up my hand. “Wait. Finish what you were going to say.”

  Pacey’s lips flapped as he blew out an exasperated breath. I could tell that he didn’t want to speak up, but I needed to know the word on the street if I was going to turn the season around… and keep my job. “I’ve heard that the Wildcats have been trying to unload him for a while now. He’s a leading scorer, but the rumor is that he’s impossible to coach, and he’s not a team player.” It was his nice way of saying that the guy was a total asshole.

  I folded my hands on my desk. Gunnar Lockwood wouldn’t be the first hothead I’ve had to tame. “Well, that’s about to change.”

  A grin spread across Pacey’s face and he gave a quick mock salute. “Roger that, Coach.”

  Having a player like Lockwood on the team could do one of two things: propel us forward, or rip us apart. It depended on how I led the team. For the first time in years, a flicker of excitement licked at my chest. It was time to step up and coach the shit out of this team.

  “Oh, and Pacey.”

  Pacey paused with his hand on the door. “Yeah?”

  “Let me be the one to break the news to the guys. They’re probably not going to take it well.”

  Pacey nodded. “Then they’d better pull up their bootstraps. Or whatever the hockey equivalent of bootstraps is.”

  There was a lightness, almost a laugh in Pacey’s statement, but underneath that lay the truth. The guys needed to accept and work with Gunnar, or their season was going to go from bad to worse.

  Clipboard in hand, dry erase marker in the other, I set off to break the news to my team.

  Eight

  Amber

  It was like Christmas morning at the office. Boxes had piled up around me, but I didn’t want to open or unpack anything until all the components had arrived. I wanted a big grand reveal for my office design project. So far it was the only design task that had landed on my desk, or rather, my kitchen table. The process had been frustrating. What would have taken two days to arrive in Florida, had taken a week to get to Laketown. The last week had been a long seven days of awaiting packages and avoiding Dean. The weekdays were easy, I just waited for him and Chloe to leave for school, but on the weekend, I had to peek out my curtains before venturing out of the house, just in case.

  Wearing the big winter boots had felt ridiculous at first, but by the end of the week, I felt like a Viking warrior every time I laced them up. Luckily, while it had been arctic cold, the sun had shone every day for the past week and I hadn’t had to get out the snowblower. I’m sure that Dean was thankful for that as well, and I wondered if he was avoiding me too.

  Armed with a pair of scissors, I set to unpacking the accessories that were going to make my office the epitome of cabin chic. Thankfully, I didn’t have to paint, the round logs of the building were going to play perfectly into my design.

  “Amber.” I looked up from the sea of bubble wrap. Melissa had opened the door and stuck her head in. She nodded at the southwest-style throw pillow in my hand. “I see where you’re going with that.” Without any emotion on the woman’s face, I couldn’t tell whether she liked the rancher look or not.

  Melissa didn’t seem to do any work, and I was starting to wonder if this business was a front for something nefarious. With zero design jobs, how could Mel D. Cottage Designs possibly stay in business?

  “Thanks.” I decided to interpret her statement as a compliment.

  Melissa stepped into my office, and that’s when I noticed there was a pretty young woman at her side. This woman looked as out of place in Laketown as I did. My breath caught in my throat and I wondered if Melissa had decided to replace me. I brushed my hands on my jeans and stood up.

  “This is Faith,” Melissa said.

  “Hi.” I plastered a smile on my face and extended my hand.

  Faith returned the smile, although hers looked genuine, and let me shake her very bony hand. I was quick to notice the very on-trend manicure. “Hi,” she said.

  “This is my daughter.” Melissa smiled and squeezed the girl’s shoulder.

  I hoped that the exhale of relief wasn’t noticeable. And a closer look at Faith revealed the exact same forget-me-not blue eyes as her mother. It wasn’t blatantly obvious, but with a closer look, the familial resemblance was there. “I thought you were going to say that this was your sister.” I gave an obvious wink to go with my obvious line.

  “That’s quite the compliment for me, but I’m not sure Faye is ready for those cliches just yet.”

  Faith smiled and gave a light shrug. “You’re gorgeous, Mom, so that’s totally a compliment.”

  I couldn’t decide whether Faith was the sweetest early twenty-something I had ever met, or the most arrogant.

  Melissa cackled and drew her blonde hair into a mess on her head and jutted out her hip like a model. “Thanks, Faye.” She dropped her hair and grinned. “Amber, Faye is studying interior design so she can grow up just like her mama.”

  It was clear that the two of them were close and I felt a twinge of jealousy at what seemed to be a perfect mother-daughter relationship.

  “Where are you studying?” I asked.

  “Chrysanthemum College. It’s my last year.”

  “I’ve heard good things about Chrys College.” I hadn’t, but it seemed like the polite thing to say. I was just about to ask about her instructors when Melissa interrupted. “Faye’s in their co-op program.”

  I nodded. “Cool.”

  The mother-daughter duo cast a glance at each other and Faith’s cheeks turned pink.

  “Faith is going to be doing that co-op here.” Melissa pointed to the floorboards on my office floor.

  I knew it. She WAS taking my job.

  “Oh.” I picked up one of the boxes to try to hide my shock, but my mind was already racing. Why had I moved all the way from Florida to this damn town? How could she do this to me? Hire me and then replace me after one week on the job? It couldn’t have been the Santa Fe style pillows, she had just seen those.

  Melissa continued. “She won’t get in your way, but I asked her if she’d rather shadow me or you, and I’m not taking it personally.” She jabbed her daughter with her elbow. “But, after seeing your portfolio, Faye would rather work with you.”

  “Ohhhh.” It was starting to become a lot clearer.

  “I know we’re springing this on you, and I’m sorry about that. But er…” she seemed to be lost for words for a split second and then cleared her throat. “Faith’s plans have changed and she wants to be near home for a while.”

  I worked best alone, and if I wanted to be a teacher, I wouldn’t be here in Laketown, that’s for damn sure. But, Faith’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and the protective wall around my heart seemed to crack a little. Something told me I could let Faith in, that I could trust her, even though we had barely spoken two words to each other.

  “I’m a hard-ass.” I set the box on my table/desk. “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re the boss’s daughter.” I tried to keep a stone-cold face, but the grin cracked its way through.

  Faith grinned back. “I’m so excited to work with you.”

  “The feeling is mutual, Faye.”

  Her grin disappeared. “It’s Faith.”

  I could’ve sworn Melissa had used the name Faye more than once. “Sorry about that, Faith.”

  “It’s just,” Faith’s lips drew into a line. “My mom and…” She was struggling. “My mom is the only one who calls me that.”

  I nodded. “Understood. When do you want to start?”

  The mother-daughter glance happened again. I felt like the new kid at school who had been left out on all the plans. “I was hoping she could start right now.” Melissa brushed her hands together. “I’ve filled her in on the Mel D. Cottage Designs project, and her first assignment is going to be getting the rest of the space looking as good as your office.”