“He’s with Sam,” she muttered absently then looked up at me. “Sam’s a… girlfriend of mine—great friend, she lives with us.” She shook her head. “Sorry I don’t know why I added that.”
I grinned at her sluggishly. “It’s okay, I’m glad you did.”
There was a moment before I stretched out my hand to kill the silence. “Logan—or you know, Mr. Sporting Goods works too.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Rayne.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Tisch take a customer at the next register.
“I guess I’ll take these now.” Rayne said, lifting the box.”
“Glad I could help you sleep through the night knowing it was fair and square.”
She was about to say something when the familiar miniature of Rayne came rushing in. “Mom, what’s taking so long?”
“Mommy was just leaving, come on buddy.”
A petite brunette raced in after him. “Sorry I know you asked to keep him in the car, but he got tired of waiting.”
“You must be Sam.” I smiled politely.
Rayne’s friend scanned me, a slow curve on her lips when she turned to the kid and glanced at Rayne. “Oh um… Jax, hey let’s go look around the store… or something... somewhere else.”
“No, no, no. I was just leaving,” Rayne insisted, practically shoving them both to the exit.
“Mom, did you ask him?”
She didn’t bother glancing back at me. “I did, we’ll talk about it in the car. Come on.”
“Ask me what?”
Rayne shook her head, still avoiding me. “He said he doesn’t know anyone, Let’s go.”
A look of sheer disappointment settled on the kids’ face. Something burned in my chest at the sight.
Before I could think, I grabbed the shoes she left on the counter in her rush and followed them out. “Hey Jax,” I called, catching up. I handed Rayne the merch and kept my eyes on the kid. “There’s a box of stickers in the front of the store if you want to check them out. Free of charge,” I looked at his mother and held up my right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
She nodded at her son and Sam took him over the few steps back to the store.
I turned back to the gorgeous set of blue eyes. “What was it you allegedly asked me?”
She shrugged as though it was nothing. “He’s still pretty set on learning to play… hockey.”
The word came out like venom from her lips. Or was it just me?
“It’s going to be rough to learn to play if he doesn’t know how to skate,” I pointed out, remembering their conversation.
She pursed her lips. “That’s what I was supposedly asking you.” She glanced back to find them both engrossed in the sticker box. Jax already with a handful. “Anyway, thanks for covering. I’m still looking, sort of. He’s not giving me much of a choice. But if he’s going to do it, I want him doing it right. Safely. I’d prefer private lessons, but they’re…” she caught herself, as if remembering who she was talking to, “a little more expensive than a pair of shoes.”
I knew well how expensive private skating lessons were. If this kid wanted to play hockey, he’d definitely need a handful of lessons before someone handed him a stick—even to play with kids his age.
My gut wrenched, picturing the kid falling and failing because of an instructor who’d rather confine and collect than get some valuable hours of lessons in. Because unfortunately, that’s what people were like. Especially around here.
This was where I should have walked away. Let the kid learn the hard way how beastly and foul the sport can be. These two were not my problem. But the wrench tugging at my chest was hard to ignore.
I rubbed my chin. “Still, I don’t feel right about playing along with your lie.”
“Excuse me?”
