“There.” Jax points and I train my gaze to where he’s motioning to the redhead across the rink standing beside the benches.
“Don’t know. But it wouldn’t be surprising, I guess, considering she is family to the owner of the team,” I reply with as much nonchalance as I can muster.
“Yeah, that’s definitely her. Since when does Scarlett Carlisle come to team events?” Jax asks curiously. And just as the words leave his mouth, Carson and his wife Dakota skate up to us with their twin son and daughter in tow.
Lainey and Leo Wilder are four now, but they’re able to stride on the ice without too much assistance and they’re both in full hockey gear. Leo is the spitting image of his dad, with honey-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Lainey looks more like her mom with dark, wavy hair braided into a ponytail flowing out of her helmet, though she also has her father’s eyes. I’m actually surprised to see Dakota on the ice, she isn’t the best skater and Carson just shared with us a few days ago that Dakota is pregnant again. That’s likely the reason Carson is glued to her side instead of the twins’s. I hope for their sake that it’s only one baby this time around—the thought of four kids is daunting to me, but they’re a great team so they’d probably take it in stride.
“Wait, did y’all just say Benny’s girl is here?” Carson asks in a tone that is the equivalent to what I imagine a Golden Retriever would sound like if they could talk.
“Y’all?” I quirk a brow at him in question. And for fuck’s sake I had sex with the woman over six years ago. She’s not my girl. She’s nothing but a new inconvenience.
“Yeah, y’all. I’m married to a beautiful Texan and we happen to split some of our time there. Sue me for using slang that, by the way, makesa hell of a lot more sense than saying ‘you all,’” he replies in a defensive tone.
“Touché, Carsey. Don’t let this grumpy ass bring you down; he’s just freaked out to see his one that got away show up out of the blue,” Jax explains.
Ha!He’s so fucking wrong. Though, I can’t seem to stop my gaze from veering in her direction. And when Carson mutters, “Huh, I didn’t know she had a kid,” I can’t deny the way my stomach sinks and my chest squeezes in disappointment. That is, until I take a better look at the young boy she’s seemingly teaching how to skate. What the fuck?
Panic consumes me when I take in his features—brown hair far too similar to my own, and as I skate closer, I see his hazel eyes look up at me with recognition.
Wait, why am I close enough to this kid that I can make out the color of his eyes?
The thought evaporates the moment he opens his mouth and shyly greets me. “Heya there.”
I kneel in front of the trainer he’s leaning on and take him in a little more. The only resemblance to Scarlett I can see in him is his slanted smile and button nose. Other than those features, he looks eerily similar to . . . me.
Clearing the anxiety from my throat, I hold my gloved fist out to the kid so he can give me knucks. “Heya there, bud. I’m Bennett. What’s your name?”
“Gunner,” he replies.
“Nice to meet you, Gunner. And how old are you?” I can’t stop myself from asking.
“I’m five. How old areyou?” he tosses back.
Somehow a chuckle slips past my lips, though I’m not sure how, considering my stomach is in knots and my throat is now even moreclogged with anxiety. “I’ll be thirty-one in a few months. When’s your birthday?” I manage to choke out the question.
“March twentieth. I’ll be six then.”
I mentally tally his age and the world stands still as the numbers and dates align in my head.
Holy shit. He was likely conceived in June. Just over six years ago in June.
My head snaps up to see a skeptical Scarlett’s narrowed gaze on me.
Oh really?
“Can I have a word with you, Miss Carlisle?” I question as I stand from the ice.
“I thought we were past the formalities,Mr. Wilson,” she replies in a snarky voice, crossing her arms over her chest. As if she has any right to be annoyed right now.
“I’d like to discuss some additional scheduling items that have recently been brought to my attention,” I tell her in a low, even tone, letting her know I mean business.
Scarlett skates over to the other girl and I miss what she says to her due to her hushed tone. The girl nods before skating over to Gunner. I wonder if she’s his nanny, though she looks a bit young for that role.
Once Gunner is out of ear’s shot, Scarlett faces me. “I’m all ears, Mr. Wilson. What is it you wanted to discuss?”
“Can we go somewhere more private?”
“Lead the way,” she says, gesturing toward the bench. I lead us off the ice to the team’s locker room, and once I’ve confirmed we’re alone, I turn to face her.
