Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“The loan for Lakeshore Sweets was paid in full yesterday. You own the property free and clear. Congratulations. I’m so happy you were able to find a solution.”
My gaze jerks to Sloane. She’s watching me with a crease between her brows.
“Is everything okay?” she mouths.
I nod, but my head is spinning. “Are you saying someone paid off the loan for the bakery?”
“Yes.” There’s a pause. “You sound surprised.”
A nervous laugh escapes. “Yeah, I guess I am. Can you tell me who made the payment?”
The sound of keystrokes fills the line. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t have access to that information in the system. Only that the loan was paid in full.”
My pulse pounds in my ears. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Congratulations again. We really love when women business owners succeed.”
Even after the call ends, I can only stare at the phone in my hand.
“Well?” Sloane prompts, stepping closer. “Don’t leave me hanging. What happened?”
“That was the bank. My loan for the bakery has been paid off.” I swallow. “Completely.”
Her jaw drops. “You’re kidding! Who did that?”
I shake my head as one name drifts to the surface. “Maybe it was Zane? He stopped by the other day and offered to help.” Even as I push the words out, they feel wrong somehow. “I just can’t believe he came through for me in such a big way.”
Skepticism flashes in Sloane’s eyes. “Zane? You really think so? I hate to say it, but that man doesn’t have an altruistic bone in his body.”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you,” I admit. “But there isn’t any other explanation.”
Even as I say it, my thoughts start to spin.
Why would Zane pay off the bakery loan after years of letting me scrape by alone?
It feels like I’ve uncovered a version of my ex I don’t recognize.
Maybe one who’s finally trying to do the right thing.
36
River
The buzz of the crowd hums through the arena, a steady thrum of energy that vibrates beneath my skin. I push off from the boards, carving a slow loop around the ice, letting the movement settle in my limbs. Warm-ups are usually mindless. It’s all muscle memory, breath control while operating on autopilot.
But that’s not the case tonight.
Tonight feels different.
I’m not just skating against another team.
I’m skating against family.
“Hey!” a familiar voice calls out from behind me, smug and loud enough to carry over the music. “Try not to embarrass yourself out here, got it, Thompson?”
I glance over my shoulder and smirk. “Please. With your lineup? Shouldn’t you guys be playing in the AHL?”
Maverick skates up beside me, his grin sharp beneath the visor. “Says the guy we crushed last time.”
I scoff. “If you remember correctly, I was out with an injury. Wasn’t even on the ice.”
“Likely story,” he mutters, bumping my shoulder like we’re just two guys at a pickup game, not about to go head-to-head in front of a sold-out crowd.
The contact is easy and familiar. After all the years we spent grinding against each other on opposing teams, it’s funny how life turned out.
“Lilah invited Willow to sit in the suite.” His gaze shifts to the glass above center ice. “The whole McKinnon crew’s up there.”
“Yup, she texted earlier to let me know,” I say, already scanning the luxury box. My gaze locks on Willow almost instantly. She’s standing near the glass with my niece on her hip and my nephew waving like a maniac. As soon as she catches my eye, a grin lifts her lips.
That’s all it takes for the tightness coiled within me to ease.
There’s nothing better than having family in the stands cheering you on.
All right, maybe that’s not altogether true.
My gaze drifts to the box after another pass around the zone.
Callie is still MIA.
Part of me wonders if she plans to attend.
And if she does show her face, will she be wearing my jersey?
Will she let me claim her in front of everyone?
“Not here yet, huh?” Maverick asks, keeping pace with me.
Ten years ago, we were bitter rivals, both on and off the ice. I stole his high school girlfriend, and he ended up having a secret relationship with my sister in college.
I was afraid he was using her to get back at me.
And I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It took some time for us to see eye to eye, but now the guy is more than just my brother-in-law. He’s one of the few people I trust with my sister, niece, and nephew. Maverick McKinnon has turned out to be a good man.
He’s an even better husband and a phenomenal father.
Not to mention, a damn good friend.
“Nope,” I say, my gaze searching the suite for what feels like the hundredth time.
“You think she’s going to show?”
“I sure as hell hope so,” I mutter, more to myself than him.
I’ve played in hundreds of games and scored more goals than I can count. But I’ve never wanted anyone in the stands the way I want to see her smiling face in the crowd.