I Want You Back (Want You #1)(33)

“Nope.”

“Good. Because you’re not an idiot, dumbass. She’s skating circles around the rest of the girls. Someone is bound to notice that.”

“Let them.”

“I cannot believe you took her to the Hockey Grail.”

I couldn’t believe he was ragging on me about it. “She needed to test skates, and they’re the only sporting goods store that also has a skating rink right in the store.”

“Did she even try figure skates?”

“She wasn’t interested. And now when she and I skate together, she’ll be able to keep up better.”

Nolan faced me. “You plan on taking her to the rink on a regular basis?”

“She said she missed it. And frankly I miss it too.”

“Mama Luce ain’t gonna be happy about this, bro.”

“How will she know? I’ll keep Mimi’s gear at my place.”

“Lying to her? Dude. That’s never gone well for you.”

“True. But I suspect chatterbox won’t be able to keep a secret for long anyway, so I’ll deal with it as it comes up.”

Just then Mimi skated up. “The party is over. Uncle Nolan, can you help me get ready to go?”

“Sure. But why me?”

“Because I heard Dallas say you could get girls out of their clothes fast.”

He choked on his last bite of cake.

Way to go, Dallas, saying that stuff to a kid who takes everything literally. “Sweets, that’s not something that should be repeated, okay?” To Nolan I said, “I’ll talk to Dallas about those type of slipups this week.”

“You do that. And I’ll do this.” Nolan stood. “Lead the way, short stuff.”

I’d started picking up the trash around us, when I heard, “Sir? Could I have a word with you?”

I offered the woman a quick smile. Getting recognized had always been part of the gig. “Sure.”

“Does your daughter play hockey?”

Say what? “No. She doesn’t play. Why?”

“I noticed she had on hockey skates, not figure skates.” Upon seeing my frown, she clarified, “It can be an oversight for parents, especially if they’re pink. Anyway, I’m the ice manager and it’s my job to keep an eye on things. And your daughter certainly caught my eye. She’s got a good, fast, solid gait on ice. Does she take lessons?”

“Uh. No.”

“Well, she’s got one helluva natural talent then. Have you ever considered putting her in a hockey program?”

My eyes widened.

And the lady mistook my reaction. She rolled her eyes. “It’ll teach her team-building skills and make her a stronger girl. Hockey is great exercise; it strengthens hand-eye coordination—”

“You don’t have to sell me on it. My daughter’s mother would hate it, constantly worrying about head injuries, broken bones and missing teeth.”

The woman opened her mouth. Shut it. Then she sighed. “Hockey is a contact sport. So those types of injuries are a possibility, but there’s officially a ‘no checking’ rule in girls’ and women’s hockey.”

A familiar quick whistle sounded, followed by, “Jaxson. I’m taking Mimi out to the car.”

“Be right there.” Then I faced the woman again. “I appreciate your input.”

Her mouth hung open. “Holy crap. You’re Jaxson Lund.”

I grinned. “Guilty as charged.”

Then she smacked her own head. “You just let me babble about the benefits of hockey and you’ve won the Stanley Cup three times. Three times! Good lord, man, I’ve been a Wild fan for years, but even I cheered on the ’hawks in the finals in 2015.”

“Good to know. You should also know I wasn’t critiquing your hard sell of your hockey program. All Mimi has said to me is she wants to skate fast . . . nothing about hockey.”

She frowned again. “That’s odd. She asked me to come over and talk to you about enrolling her in the program.”

That’s why the little sneak had disappeared with her uncle.

“We have a class for new players starting next week.”

“This is something I’d have to discuss with her and her mother in depth.”

“Understood. But this is a basic skills class. If she likes that, then you can address the possibility of her playing, even in a noncompetitive league.”

I raised an eyebrow at her.

She laughed. “Right. Forgot who I was talkin’ to for a moment. And you lived the dream that many of these kids strive for from an early age, so I don’t gotta give you the spiel about commitment and cost, even on the recreational level.”

“Recreational hockey is something I don’t know a damn thing about. But I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention to anyone the possibility of Mimi giving classes a try.”

“This discussion and the follow-up is absolutely confidential, Mr. Lund.”

“Please. Call me Jax. Right now I’m not a former pro hockey player, I’m just a plain old confused father trying to do the right thing for his kid.”

She grinned at me. “I think we both know what that thing is.” She pulled a business card out of the first aid kit attached to her belt. “I’ve got more time to talk in the mornings, so feel free to give me a holler if you need anything.” She offered her hand. “Damn nice to meet you, Stonewall.”