The Parent Playbook (Love on Thin Ice)

21. Angel

CHAPTER 21

ANGEL

T he Ice Breakers scraping through with a win in the second game is like finally catching a breath after being underwater too long. Sure, I’m not the one out there on the ice, but somehow, I feel every win—and loss—right along with the rest of them.

I remember the slump of Scotty’s shoulders after the first game, that look in his eyes. It was like he’d personally let down every single person in the stands, not to mention every kid counting on Happy Horizons. Seeing him like that made my heart do a weird somersault. I’m supposed to be the tough one, the one who scoffs at sentiment and rolls her eyes at the faintest hint of drama.

But there I was, watching him after that loss, feeling something akin to … what? Pity? Sympathy? Nope, I refuse to get that mushy. Let’s call it a reluctant solidarity. Because, let’s face it, when Scotty’s down, it’s like watching a sad puppy—I want to do anything to see him smile again.

So, yeah, relief was the main flavor of the night when they finally clinched that win in the second game. Relief, and even a dash of pride, because who knew I’d start caring this much about a hockey game ?

When Scotty caught my eye at the end of the game, his grin wide and full of pride, I felt like I was right there with him and I shot him two thumbs up.

Yep, two thumbs up for the man who’s been turning my life inside out. It was goofy, but to the king of dad jokes, it fit.

But that was yesterday, and today is a whole new day … with my new accountant!

As I shuffle through what can only be described as a mountain range of neglected invoices and mismatched receipts, Marcy gawks at the state of affairs.

“Do you have last year’s W-2 forms?” Marcy asks, her voice tinged with a hopeful note that quickly fades as she sees my blank stare.

“Um, would you believe me if I said the goat ate them?”

Marcy doesn’t miss a beat, and she definitely doesn’t laugh. “And the bank statements?”

“They’re probably in a safe place,” I say, scratching my head. “But I’m sure I can look them up online somewhere, right?”

“How about the receipts from quarter two … any year?” Marcy tries again, her pen poised over her notepad, ready for action.

“Oh, those are filed under ‘G’ for ‘gone with the wind.’” That earns a smirk from Marcy.

She sighs, but there’s a glint in her eye. “I understand why you said ‘perseverance required’ in the job posting now.”

“Um, sorry?”

She lets out a quick exhale and strikes a pose that’s halfway between a librarian and a caped crusader, armed with a calculator and a red pen, her glasses slipping down her nose.

“Fear not, citizen,” she declares with a dramatic flourish, looking entirely too cheerful about the mess. “I am here to save you—and Happy Horizons—from the clutches of tax oblivion!”

Marcy—our very own financial superhero with the patience of a saint .

“You’re either very brave or very misguided. Either way, I’m glad you’re here.”

Just as Marcy begins to explain her battle plan for our financial records, Andy bursts through the door, words tumbling out faster than I can catch them. “Mom! Mom, you have to come tonight. There’s this movie about Planet Earth and I’ve got to see it with Lily! She gets free on-demand movies at the lodge where they’re staying, and she said we could come over tonight, pretty-pretty please?”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep up. “Slow down, turbo. And this was whose idea?”

Andy grins, barely pausing for breath. “Scotty’s! He said you should come too. Said it’d be good for the kids—and the parents—to hang out. He made some dorky dad joke about it being a ‘parental guidance’ movie night.”

It does sound exactly like something Scotty would say. “All right, but only if there’s popcorn.”

Andy’s already halfway out the door, pumping his fist. “Yes! Thanks, Mom! You’re the best! I know that watching this movie will inspire Lily and me to find—ahem—less socially disruptive ways to reverse climate change.”

That’s my boy.

I turn back to Marcy, who’s watching the whole exchange with a bemused smile. “Looks like you’re not the only hero around here today,” I say, grabbing my jacket. “Now, if you can keep the IRS at bay, that’d be great.”

With a heroic nod, Marcy salutes with her calculator. “To environmental victory and tax deductions!”

Something about this impromptu movie night feels a bit … funny. I can’t put my finger on it, and I could be well off base, but why wouldn’t Scotty call me himself?

Then again, he’s probably knee-deep in whatever hockey coaches do between games. And I don’t really want to question it.

I want to see him .

It’s been ages since I’ve been at Hawk River Lodge. The last time I was here, I was invisible in a maid’s uniform, not walking in as a guest. The expansive entry boasts a high ceiling crisscrossed with dark wooden beams, and a stone fireplace dominates one wall, casting a warm, flickering glow across the plush sofas and vintage hunting trophies and I feel like a cat at a dog show.

Surrounding me are members of the Ice Breakers, their towering figures and broad shoulders filling up the space. They seem at ease, laughing and talking among themselves. I’d forgotten that most of them were staying here.

As I awkwardly adjust my purse, a player breaks away from the group and heads straight for me. “Hey, you’re Angel from Happy Horizons, right?” he asks, his tone friendly yet earnest. His face is familiar …

“That’s me, local charity overlord and occasional preteen wrangler,” I reply, trying to match his ease and failing spectacularly.

He laughs and extends his hand. “Cooper Montgomery. We met at the Regent’s Hotel when the team first got to town, but you had been—um— distracted that night.” I sense something in his tone of voice that’s almost teasing. “I’ve got to say, I thought I’d hate coming to Maple Falls—no offense—but it’s actually pretty great here. What you’re doing for the kids, that’s … it’s really something. Thanks for letting us be a part of it.”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome!” I stammer, feeling every bit the awkward hostess. “We’re all about dragging unsuspecting athletes into our chaotic little world. It’s our specialty.” I flash a grin that I hope looks more grateful than nervous.

“I also want you to know that Scotty and I go way back. There’s no better guy around than Scotty MacFarland. You should know that. Have a good night.”

I intend to say something, though who knows what’s the right kind of response to an unprompted wingman when I thought what was happening between Scotty and me was a secret. Or at least private. Or at least unbeknownst to a professional hockey team.

He’s talking about me to the other guys? He’d only do that if he were serious about me. Scotty isn’t the type to go off telling tall tales of the women he’s won over.

And he’s totally won me.

Cooper offers me a salute and walks away just as Andy runs up.

“Mom, Lily’s over there!” He points excitedly toward the back of the lodge where I make out Lily’s bright head of hair.

“Hi, Angel!” She gives me a massive and unexpected hug, but leave it to kids to make what might otherwise be awkward feel as natural as breathing. I hug her back.

She leads us down a long hall. “We’re separate from the rest of the team because, you know, family friendly and all. Dad likes to go to bed early. But I love our suite.” She swings the suite door open. With the enthusiasm of a seasoned show host, she announces, “Ta-da! Welcome to our humble abode!”

She steps aside, sweeping her hand toward the interior with a grand gesture.

Right at Scotty’s mostly naked body standing in the center of the sitting room.

There’s a towel around the part that matters, but I’m stopped dead in my tracks. His hair drips, a few rogue drops meandering down his chest.

“For crying out loud, Dad!” Lily’s voice squeaks as her hands fly up to cover her eyes.

Scotty’s face blooms a deep crimson. “Whoa! It’s you! All of you!” he stammers, clutching the towel with one hand as he darts toward the bathroom.

Andy, eyes wide as saucers, spins around to avoid the scene. “Looks like bad timing.”

I can’t help laughing as my face heats up.

From behind the safety of the bathroom door, Scotty’s muffled apology floats out. “Give me two minutes—please! ”

“That’s one way to kick off movie night,” I mumble as the bathroom door clicks shut.

I press a hand to my cheeks, trying to cool the unexpected blush. The kids have settled into the sofa, and I’m silently thanking every star that my brain has enough decency to not vocalize my very detailed appreciation of Scotty’s—um—fitness regime.

Now dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, Scotty re-emerges from the bathroom, his earlier mortification replaced by an amused smile. The kids are already sprawled in front of the massive TV, captivated by the vibrant display of the opening menu of a nature documentary.

Scotty sidles up next to me, his voice low and teasing. “Well, it’s a surprise to see you here. I’m guessing the kids might have stretched the truth a bit about tonight?”

I feel a flush creep up my neck, remembering the all-too-revealing entrance earlier. “Yeah, seems like it.” I tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “They mentioned something about you suggesting this little movie night shindig.”

Right on cue, Andy pops up from the couch, his eyes darting between us. “We’re gonna make popcorn! Lots of it!” Lily jumps up to join him, both kids practically bolting for the kitchenette.

Scotty chuckles, watching them disappear. He rubs the back of his head, a gesture so endearingly awkward it sends a tingle down my spine. “Well, now that we’re here, we might as well make the most of it, right?” His tone is light, but there’s a softness in his eyes that suggests something more.

I nod, trying to ignore the slight quickening of my heartbeat. “Might as well,” I respond, more to my heart than to him. The memory of his nearly bare form flashes through my mind, mixing awkwardly with the fact that he’s sitting—right—there.

“I thought about what you said,” he begins. “I overreacted about the suspension business. But it was an important moment for me, you know? To see the effects of being in a new place on Lily’s well-being. It really shined a light on the situation. ”

I’m not sure I’m following, but I nod anyhow.

He opens his mouth to go on, but the kids rush back in.

“Set it up, Dad. Andy, this bowl’s for you, and I get the green one. The adults can have the small bowl on the sofa. Dad is always complaining about his dentist bills.”

Scotty blushes for the second time of the evening. “I’ve got this one molar that’s such a pain in the—never mind. Let’s see what these planet-saving documentaries are all about.”

The documentary rolls on, the screen alive with sweeping vistas of rainforests and oceans, a narrative of a family’s eco-mission weaving through stunning natural landscapes. I have a funny twinge of suspicion that the kids were setting something up, as the family on screen looks a lot like the makeshift family forming right here in this sitting room. I sneak a glance at the kids, finding them sprawled out, deep in sleep amidst a fortress of popcorn bowls.

Elbowing Scotty gently, I nod toward the kids. “Look at them, all tuckered out from saving the world.”

He chuckles, a low, warm sound that vibrates through the space between us. It’s a sound I love so much that I replay it in my head. “Yeah, not surprising with Andy being up at the crack of dawn these days.”

I raise an eyebrow, turning to face him. “How do you know about his early mornings?” The question slips out sharper than intended, my curiosity piqued.

“Ah.” Scotty’s cheeks tinge pink again , a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He looks over at Andy and cocks his head to the side. “Must’ve been Lily chatting about it. You know kids, they spill everything.”

This man is so utterly endearing. His face is like it was earlier when we walked in on him wearing just a towel and a whole lot of awkward.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Seeing them like this,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet rumble as he nods toward Andy and Lily.

“It is.” I don’t know what’s coming over me, but I let myself edge a little closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body roll across me like waves.

He notices, I think he does anyway, as he shifts, coming a fraction closer himself. My heartbeat kicks up a notch, and I can’t tell if I’m all woman or a melting adolescent, because I haven’t felt this way since that long.

The room is dim except for the glow from the TV, painting everything in soft, shifting light. It feels like we’re in our own little bubble, which is weirdly comfortable, even with the kids snoring away next to us. Scotty shifts closer still, and I don’t know if I can stand this anymore. I turn to him, his eyes looking deeply into mine, a shining almost-sadness in them as his breath caresses my cheek with one word.

“Angel.”