Chapter 15 Sitting on the couch, my mom smiles at me, nodding down at a sleeping Avy in my arms. "Let me carry her into her room," she whispers, standing up slowly and coming beside us. As she reaches for her, I widen my eyes. "Mom, she's seven. Not two or three," I practically hiss. "You'll hurt your back, trying to carry her up the stairs." My mom is in her mid-fifties and in fabulous shape. I need her to stay that way too. She always wants to do the most when it comes to my babies, and I appreciate it more than she could ever know. But she needs to not be Superwoman sometimes. She gives me a look that tells me instantly to shut the hell up before rolling her eyes. She slides her hand under my daughter and lifts her up. It's a bit of a struggle to stand with her, but once she does, she takes off for the stairs. Only stopping to look over her shoulder at me. "You know, I'm not decrepit," she sasses. "You're not putting my ass in a nursing home just yet." "Oh, bummer," I tease her before sighing. "I know, Mom. I just ... don't want you to hurt yourself." Ignoring me, she heads up the stairs slowly but surely, taking one at a time, until she makes it to the top. I hear the wood creaking under her feet. I'm impressed because I've carried Avy up there recently, and it's no easy task. Reaching for the TV remote, I flip through the channels until it lands on a picture of a familiar stadium, the home of the Bay Sharks. I stare at the television, wondering where my dad, Gramp Frank, and the boys are sitting in the arena. Even when the boys have a game on, I hardly pay attention. Since Aviana just came home yesterday, I promised Cash and Cane I'd put the game on once she fell asleep. The reporters talk about the game and how the Bruins center, Cam Hardy, is having a terrific night. They talk about how the Sharks center, Walker James, is one of the only talents that rivals Hardy's strengths. And then, right when my mom plops down on the couch again, the cameraman finds Tripp, and the reporters dive into what a game he's had, letting nothing get past him yet, even well into the second half of the game. He guards his goal, just like he always does, and I swear it's like watching a different person from the one I've seen during pickup and drop-off for Cash's lessons. A different one from the guy who proposed we get married just this morning. Feeling my mom's stare, I quickly look away and grab my glass from the coffee table before standing. "I'm going to get some club soda. Want one?" "Sure. I'd never turn down something bubbly," she says, staying on the couch as I walk into the kitchen and pull open the fridge. "That Tripp Talmage is something, huh?" she calls to me, and I swear I almost drop my cup, feeling like I've been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. "Not bad to look at either," she adds just as I'm pouring a club soda over ice. Pulling in a breath, I carry our glasses back into the living room and pass Mom hers. I debate not saying anything back, but when she peeks at me while she takes a sip, I know that's not an option. "What are you getting at, Mom?" I say point-blank before relaxing back. "Go on. Hit me with it." She attempts to look offended, but fails. "Fine. You got me." She shrugs. "That man seems to have taken a liking to your kids, is all I'm saying. I mean, first, he offers free lessons to Cash, and then he visits Avy in the hospital, bringing her a damn stuffed hedgehog." When I narrow my eyes, she grins. "I know everything, baby girl. Everything, I tell ya." Tossing my head back against the cushion, I sigh. My mom and I are extremely close. I can tell her whatever, and I know it'll be safe with her. But what I am considering telling her ... it's a huge deal. So big, in fact, that I'm not even sure I should say anything at all. "What is it, Frey?" She reaches over, patting my hand. "Talk to me, babe." There's no easy way to say what I'm about to tell her. It's not a good thing. How could it be good? It's illegal. But ... here I go. "When he found out my insurance wouldn't cover Avy's surgery ... Tripp offered to marry me so that I could have his health insurance," I blurt out. "Well, first, he offered to just pay for the entire thing, but I said absolutely not." I grimace. "I am not a charity case, and it would be a hundred thousand dollars-at least." My mom scooches closer, swiping her hand over my hair. "Sweetie ... why didn't you tell me that the insurance declined it? You know your dad and I would love nothing more than to help." That has me pulling back from her. "That right there is why I didn't tell you," I snap. "Dad worked his entire life for his retirement, Mom. He wants to travel with you." I shake my head. "I refuse to take money from you all. I'd rather-" "Marry a man you don't really know?" she asks, cutting me off. Only she doesn't seem angry, but instead ... intrigued. "Well, no," I say quickly. "I am not marrying Tripp Talmage. Ever." "Why not?" my mom throws back intuitively. "I mean, his health insurance is good. He's a damn stud muffin. Your kids like him. What's the issue?" I stare blankly at the woman who supposedly carried me for nine months and then pushed me out into the world and raised me. "Are you on crack?" I say sharply. "You know, now, I'm questioning if you are ready for a nursing home after all." I gape at her in disbelief. "I hardly know the guy." "If he were a killer, he would have been caught by now," she utters. "He's too high profile to hide it." "Mom, what the hell are you even saying?" I feel myself growing angrier by the second. "First off, I don't know him." My throat suddenly feels achy. "Second off, what about this?" I hold my hand up, showing her my ring. My ring that my husband gave me. "Mom, I'm married," I whisper. "I will always consider myself married." I tell her the honest-to-God truth. Single women can choose to marry men for their benefits. But I am not single. "Jamie didn't choose to leave us, you know." I look down at my ring, holding my hand out to examine it. "And I can't take Tripp's money. The last thing I want to do is be indebted to a man like Tripp Talmage." Her head flies back like I said something crazy, and she shoots me a look of confusion. "I mean, I haven't been around the guy, so I don't really have a leg to stand on here. But what exactly do you mean by a man like Tripp Talmage? Because I have to tell you, babe, everything I've seen has been good." She waves at the television. "Half our family is at the game tonight because he gave them tickets. Your dad just sent me this ten minutes ago when you were in the bathroom." She grabs her phone, tapping the screen with her fingers before holding it up. The display shows my two boys practically right on the ice, both enjoying popcorn and a soda. "Look at them, honey. And look at those seats, Frey. A once-in-a-lifetime experience, if you ask me." Now I rear my head back because I think this woman might have lost her damn mind. "Mom, I really thought you had a long time to go before I checked you in to one of those nice establishments with bingo and pudding, but you are talking crazy." I drop my voice down, as if someone were here, listening. "It's illegal to enter into a marriage for health benefits. You realize that, right?" "Yeah, so let your dad and me lend you money," she says, calling my bluff. "No!" I stand up in frustration, pacing the room. "I am not about to do that. I am not taking everything you've worked your entire life for just because I followed the boy and not my career." "Now you're talking crazy," she says, clearly annoyed. "You might not have gone to law school like you wanted to, but you and Jamie created a beautiful life together. And soon, you'll be able to take over the bakery." In my heart, I know I'll likely never be able to take over the bakery. My grandfather is practically married to the place, and that isn't something I can do, having three kids. Not to mention the huge financial burden it takes, especially in the times when people aren't buying treats. "Listen to me," she says, pulling my hand, forcing me to sit back down beside her. "I am not saying you should do something so crazy as marrying a man you don't know just to get your daughter surgery since your stubborn ass won't take money from the people who brought you into this world, but I am going to say this ..." She stops, squeezing my hand. "Have you ever, just once, stopped and paid attention to all these things Tripp keeps doing to help you? And have you ever wondered why?" She inhales, smiling at me. "He's not looking at you like charity, baby. He sees you as someone worth helping. And I'd say he's pretty dang fond of your kids too." Releasing my hand, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and relaxes into the sofa. Snatching the remote between us, she turns it up. "Now, let's watch the Sharks finish kicking the Bruins' ass, yeah?" I look blankly at her, but eventually, I work up a nod. I've spent all this time wondering why Tripp is so determined to do nice things for me. It's never crossed my mind it's because he likes me. And that makes it even more set in stone that I can't, under any condition, marry this man for his health insurance. Because if a man that successful and that good-looking is interested in a widowed mother of three, there's only one reasonable explanation. He's batshit fucking crazy. Obviously. I told Cash and Cane to stick around after the game-as long as it was okay with their mom. In the stands, I can see they are decked out in their gear, and I'm sure they'd love to have their shirts signed by the guys. Cane is a big Cam Hardy fan-even though he plays for the Bruins-so when I see Cam skating toward me, I know what I'm going to do. I know I'm a fucking weirdo when I keep doing this nice shit for these kids. But they lost their father. They've been through hell, and if I can make them feel a bit better, I'm going to do it. "Not only did I lose, but I also had to miss my daughter's hockey game." He shakes his head, but plasters on a grin to hide his disappointment. "Good game, brother," Cam says genuinely, even though his team just lost. "Hard to take a loss, but if it's to this team, I guess that's all right." When he throws an arm around me, I pat his back. He's one of the best in the league, but he's also an all-around good dude too. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ ƒind ηøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Your daughter plays hockey?" I ask, and he nods proudly. "That's badass, man," I toss back because that's cool as hell. "You played a hell of a game, Hardy," I say, giving his back one last smack before he releases me. "Hey, do you have a few minutes after this to sign a couple of autographs for two kids who are fans of yours?" I pause, punching his arm. "Yeah, I know. They must have something wrong with them to be Bruins fans." "Ha-ha, so funny," he utters, shaking his head. "Sure, man. Anything for a big dawg like yourself." "Thanks. I appreciate it," I say before lifting my glove up. Holding his fist up, he bumps his glove against mine and skates away. I know the past couple of days have been tough on Cash and Cane. I hope this makes it a bit better. "I can't thank you enough for the tickets," Freya's dad says before holding his hand out toward his grandsons. "Or for introducing them to so many players. This will be a night they won't forget-that's for sure." I look over at Cane and Cash, who are showing each other all the autographs they got. Both are grinning ear to ear and look pretty damn happy. Good. That was the goal for me tonight. Just take their mind away from everything else going on at home. They deserve that. "It's no big deal," I say modestly. "Glad they had a good night and enjoyed themselves." Freya's grandfather steps forward to talk, and in the past hour or so that I've been around him, I can tell he's a bit of a hard-ass, but I can also sense it's an act and he's just one of those old men who thinks he's funny. "So, you're trying to date my granddaughter, huh?" he says, narrowing his eyes at me. I look at his son-in-law, widening my eyes because I don't really know what to say to this dude. I glance nervously back at the old man to find his eyes still on me, only he's moved even closer. "Ignore him. He's a crazy fucker," Freya's dad says, shaking his head. "Cut it out, you old bastard, would you? He did a nice thing." "Nice things come at a cost, you know. I was a young man once before." "Yeah ... when dinosaurs roamed," he utters with a chuckle. He turns his attention to me, thankfully being a buffer so that I don't have to answer his father-in-law. Instead, Frank walks off toward the boys, muttering something. "That was a good game, Tripp. You know, I was worried about this season with Kolburne, but somehow, you fellas have pulled it together." "Thanks," I say with a nod. "We've got a strong team, no doubt. I wasn't sure how today would go. The Bruins always give us a run for our money." "It's that damn Cam Hardy," he says, shaking his head. "Then again, Walker James matches his talent and hustle." I smile, agreeing with him. "He does, and oddly enough, Walker was actually kind of, like, Cam's replacement at Brooks University back in their college days. Coach LaConte lucked out big time when they gained Walker after losing Cam." "I'd say," he says, eyeing me over. "I heard the Sharks got a new goalie. You're not planning on retiring, are you?" I have to chuckle at how straightforward he is for not being a reporter and not really knowing me. I don't really know how to even answer it because I don't know the answer myself. "Nah. Not yet anyway." I clap my hands lightly, ready to change the subject. "How's Aviana doing? Happy to be home, I bet." He pulls his hat off, scratching his head before pulling it back down. "I think she's doing all right. Better than the rest of us, I'm sure." He grimaces. "Hate the thought of that little angel being on an operating table, you know." The fear is written all over his face, and I can't say I blame him. Surgery is a big deal in any case, especially when it's brain surgery. But it's on a child. A tiny seven-year-old child. He has every right to be nervous. "Yeah, I can't imagine what y'all are going through. Wish there were something I could do to help. You know ... Aviana," I utter, not wanting to sound too invested because sooner or later he's going to catch on that I care more than I should about Freya and her kids. He'd probably assume I'm trying to take advantage of his widowed daughter, and I don't want that. "Giving us this night out helped the entire family." His expression becomes somber as he watches his grandsons now talking to his father-in-law. "The girls had a night in, and we all got to come out for this game and meet some of the best players in the NHL. Thank you, Tripp. Sure meant a lot to all of us." I fight the urge to shift around on my feet because even though he's being nice as hell, he's making me uncomfortable as fuck because he's looking at me like I'm a great guy. In reality, I want his daughter-badly. But I am glad that I was able to help his family out, even if I wish I could do more. "Boys, you ready to head home?" he calls to Cash and Cane. "Before your mama has my ass for having you out too late." As if on cue, Cash yawns. "Good idea. I have practice at seven thirty in the morning." Cane throws his arm around his brother lazily before rubbing the top of his head aggressively. "You'll be okay, golden child. You're good for it." When Cane drops his arm from his brother, he walks over to me and holds his fist out. "Thanks, Tripp." I bump my fist to his just in time for Cash to hold his out. "Yeah, thank you. This was fun." "Anytime, really." I mean it too. I like this family, and I'd get them tickets anytime they asked me. Even though that's weird. Ol' Grump-I mean, Gramp-surprises me when he holds his hand out. He doesn't smile at me, but when I shake it, he nods once. "Thank you," he utters. I try not to smile because it's clear he's putting his pride aside for a second. Before he drops my hand, he moves closer to my ear so that only I can hear his words and gives my hand a firm squeeze. "Don't hurt my granddaughter though, you hear? She's special." "No, sir. I don't plan to do that," I answer promptly, not knowing what he expects me to say. It's not like we've even gone on a date or anything. This dude is getting ahead of himself. They all turn and walk away, but before they get out of sight, I call after them. "See you next week on the ice, Moneybags!" When he and his brother both look over their shoulder at me, I point toward Cane. "And you ought to join too." "Nah ... but if you want to go to the indoor batting cages and hit a few, I'm all in," he tosses back, amused. And then they are gone, and even though I'm glad I got to see them ... I wish like hell I could see their mom.