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Hope beamed and skipped away. “Okay! You can sit at the kitchen table, Miss Mara. I’ll be right back!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mara smiled as she watched Hope high-five her dad as she passed him, then charge up the stairs.

  “Sorry,” Zane said softly, coming over to Mara. “She’s a bit of a ham with guests.”

  Mara raised a brow. “Don’t apologize for her excitement. I love it. Super cute, and it’ll serve her well later.”

  Zane didn’t look convinced, but his easy smile showed his true feelings. He looked at the wall of pictures, exhaling to himself. “I have a big family.”

  “Okay . . .” Mara came to his side and faced the wall with him. “I got that.”

  He laughed beside her. “No, I mean it’s huge. My parents divorced when I was six.”

  Something cold swirled in Mara’s chest as she looked at him. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

  To her surprise, he smiled. “Don’t be. My parents parted on good terms. The marriage ended, but their friendship didn’t. Look.” He pointed at a picture of a middle-aged man walking a middle-aged woman down the aisle, both laughing. “That’s my mom’s wedding to Wayne. Dad gave her away.”

  “You’re kidding.” Mara moved closer to the picture, wanting a better look. Sure enough, between the two of them, she saw everything that would add up to Zane in appearance. “That’s incredible.”

  “My parents co-parented my sisters and me,” Zane told her, tapping at another picture. “In every sense of the term. We were together for everything. We may have rotated houses, but we were all a family. Everyone was at my hockey games. Everyone went to Alexa’s soccer games. Everyone was there when Kerri was the lead in the high school musical. Instead of two families, we had one huge one.”

  Mara couldn’t help but smile at the warmth in his tone as he spoke about his family. It was the same tone he had for Hope, and it just wrapped her up like one of the quilts in the closet. “How huge?”

  Zane chuckled and gestured at one more picture, this one looking more like a mob. “Eight kids in all. Wayne had two, and Rae, my stepmom, had two. Then Dad and Rae had Logan, and that wrapped things up pretty good.”

  “Are you close with them?”

  “Oh yeah. We’re all close. Look.” He plucked a picture off the wall and held it out to show her. “Alexa’s wedding, three summers ago. Dad and Wayne both walked her down the aisle.” He shook his head, grinning at some memory. “My uncle Ted gave a prayer before the dinner. Dad’s brother. At the end of it, he shouted out something about getting an amen from the back, and all of my cousins and siblings shouted amen back.”

  Mara snickered, taking the picture from him. “That’s hilarious.”

  “What’s hilarious,” Zane told her, “is that my stepsister Kaylee asked him to give the blessing at her wedding the next fall.”

  “So?”

  Zane met her eyes, laughter dancing there. “Kaylee is Wayne’s daughter. No relation to Uncle Ted. At all.”

  Mara shook her head in disbelief, grinning at what she saw in Zane’s expression and the image he was painting in her mind. “That is amazing. Did he do it?”

  “Of course. He’s the family prayer-giver at all important events now.” Zane looked back at the photos, and she detected some nostalgia in his gaze. “Divorce tears some families apart. But in my case, it made my family bigger. Better. I respect my parents a lot for that. Especially now.”

  That piqued Mara’s interest. “Now?” she prodded hesitantly, wondering if he would open up. It was probably too soon. Had to be too soon. They barely knew each other, after all, and a few hours of flirting wasn’t anything at all, really.

  It was nothing.

  “I got divorced five years ago,” Zane said without looking at her. “Hope’s mom . . . Michelle. She decided this life wasn’t for her. Wanted out. I thought we could do everything like my parents did, wasn’t worried about it. I’d seen it done, so I knew it could be done. I knew my parents were the exception in that department, but I wanted to try.”

  Dread and guilt prickled at Mara’s neck and in the soles of her feet. She scrunched her toes in an attempt to alleviate the feeling. “What happened?”

  A bitter smile crossed Zane’s lips, and he turned to face Mara directly. “She didn’t want to co-parent. She didn’t really want to parent at all. I have full custody of Hope, but Michelle can have any holiday she wants, and four weeks every summer. She’s barely asked for any of it. I realize the actual divorce could have been uglier, but I didn’t expect it to feel so cold.”

  Understanding began to dawn, and Mara’s eyes widened. “So when Hope said she never gets to shop for a mom . . .”

  Zane nodded once. “She was being literal. We call on important dates and when Hope asks to, but it’s rare that Michelle picks up.”

  “And Grandpa Charlie?”

  “Michelle’s dad,” Zane rasped, swallowing hard. “Great guy. Amazing guy, really. He came to me two years ago and asked if he could be in Hope’s life again, even if Michelle didn’t want to be. I was hesitant, but who am I to take Hope away from her family? Turns out, he’s one of her favorite people on earth.” He stepped closer to Mara, his eyes turning warmer despite the solemnity of the discussion. “She has no idea he’s her mother’s father. It kills me to do that, but after everything, that’s what Charlie wants. And might even be what’s best for Hope. And I have to think of what’s best for her in everything now.”

  “So you’re not looking for your next relationship to end in divorce, I’m guessing,” Mara said without thinking.

  Zane’s eyes flashed, and he took a step closer to her. “Absolutely not.”

  Mara exhaled slowly, unable to take her eyes off of Zane’s. How could she be so attracted to him when he was talking about such a sad situation? How could he be so calm and matter-of-fact? How could he be looking at her that way when she was asking so many personal questions?

  “Sorry,” Mara whispered as her cheeks flamed in delayed response. “It’s none of my business.”

  “I don’t care,” he whispered back. “I don’t mind sharing any of this with you. You thought I was married until this morning. If I’d known that the first time I met you, I would have said something. I’m not married, but I have been married. I haven’t dated anyone seriously since then. Never found someone worth spending my time on, let alone Hope’s.”

  Mara’s breath stuttered in her chest, her lungs almost cramping with anticipation as hordes of butterflies took flight in her stomach.

  “I’m not a player,” he went on, still whispering, “and I’m not casual. Hope is everything. My family is everything. You asked me about serious, here it is: I take any and all relationships seriously. In this, I am the same on the ice and off. When I’m in, I’m all in. All in, all intense, all the way. All heart.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Mara managed to force out, her voice catching at least twice.

  The corner of his mouth quirked in an almost smile, and he reached out to touch the braid across her brow. “Because I don’t like that you woke up this morning thinking I wasn’t interested. Or available. I want this to be your business, Mara. I want to be your business.”

  “You can’t,” she squeaked, shivering released in full force at the touch of his fingers against her hair. “You barely know me.”

  “I know.” His smile spread, and something about it made Mara smile too. “So time for you to fix that. What do you do for fun, Mara?”

  Fun? What was fun? Did she do fun things?

  Snap out of it; the beautiful man asked you a question!

  Mara blinked, wondering if her smile was as loopy as it felt. She forced herself to focus, blinking again. “Give me space to breathe or think,” she told him, “and I might remember.”

  Zane’s eyes widened, and then he threw his head back on a laugh. “Oh, Mara, that was amazing.”

  “What?” she demanded, laughing as she took a measured step back. “I’m a red-blooded female, and
you smell insanely good, for one, and thinking goes to the backburner.”

  His smile turned ticklish, and he slid his hands safely into his hoodie pockets. “Fair enough. Distance. Better?”

  “Better.” She cleared her throat and smiled politely. “Fun. Bake, although that’s practically a chore, so it’s only fun sometimes. I do play volleyball on Monday nights.”

  “Oh yeah?” He lit up at that, the ticklish heat fading, thank goodness. “Like in a club?”

  Mara shook her head. “Nothing that formal. Just a bunch of has-beens and wannabes playing around. The community center has courts open until nine, so we just head there.”

  “Interesting . . .” Zane mused, looking her up and down. “Volleyball. I can see that.”

  “Come on, Miss Mara!” Hope called, coming down the stairs at the perfect time. “We have so much work to do! Daddy won’t help; he hates Valentine’s Day.”

  Mara gave Zane a curious look as she started for the kitchen. “Does he? Interesting.”

  He made a face, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Guilty. Least favorite holiday of all time. Not a fan.”

  “Hmm” was all Mara said as she continued on, pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down at the table as Hope laid out all of their supplies.

  “What?” Zane followed them in, leaning against the stair railing. “What’s ‘hmm’ supposed to mean?”

  Mara took a leaf out of his book and shrugged. “The man who’s all heart doesn’t like the holiday of hearts. Interesting.”

  He lowered his chin to give her a more direct look. “I don’t need a holiday of hearts to have one, Mara. Promise.”

  She could see that—had seen that—and she was beginning to feel that. Still, it was something she would tuck away in the back of her mind to ask about later.

  Maybe.

  She turned her attention to Hope and the task before them. “Right. Okay, kiddo, I love Valentine’s Day, so we got this. Let me show you how to make lacy hearts.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m being social. You always say I need to be more social.”

  Josie gave Zane a derisive look that only someone related to him would give. “Risking your body is not what I had in mind.”

  Zane frowned at her, lacing up his shoes. “I’m not risking my body, Jos.”

  “No? This from the guy who almost cried when his team played dodgeball against the Cougars for the Northbrook Challenge, because it could hurt him?” She snorted and went back to mixing cookie dough. “Boy, you are three kinds of stupid, and only one of them is okay.”

  “And which one is that?” he asked, knowing the answer would more than likely be ridiculous.

  “The one where you’re tripping over yourself for Mara. That’s an acceptable and even cute stupid.” She gestured at him with her dough-covered spoon. “This is the just-plain-dumb kind of stupid.”

  “What’s the third?”

  Josie glared at him. “I do not have time to list all the ways you are stupid.”

  Zane grinned. “You said three, so there’s gotta be a specific one you’re thinking of.”

  His cousin huffed, stirring the dough with more energy. “How about provoking me? That’s really stupid, and you know it.”

  He pretended to think about that, then shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it.”

  The stirring stopped, and she gave him a death-by-evil glare. “Inserting your size-thirteen foot into your piehole of a mouth. That’s your special kind of stupid.”

  Sometimes he really adored his cousin. Zane shrugged one shoulder. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

  Josie sighed in irritation but cracked a smile. “So help me, Zane Thomas Winchester, I will intentionally put salmonella in your cookie dough one of these days.”

  The threat made him laugh, and he pushed up to his feet. “With this body? I wouldn’t feel a thing.” He pounded his stomach. “All iron, Jos.”

  “I’d like to take an iron to you.” She shook her head and looked at the clock. “Better get going. You said it closes at nine. I’ll stay over tonight, so you kids have fun as late as you want.”

  Zane came over to her, swiped a fingerful of cookie dough, and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. “You are the best, Josie-Jo. I love you.”

  She wiped her cheek off and smacked his back with her free hand. “You better, mister. Tell Mara hi.”

  He chuckled and waved, heading out to the garage and his car, excitement bubbling up within him.

  It was strange, feeling so much so fast, but it was also as natural a progression of feeling as he could ever remember having in his life. Mara was all warmth and fun, natural and comfortable and easy. Spending pretty much all day Saturday with her had been amazing, and it seemed like he had known her forever now. He’d had an away game yesterday, but Cleveland was an easy jaunt, so he wasn’t in any way tired from that.

  He’d been texting Mara almost the entire time he was away. There was nothing like finishing a game and finding a congratulatory text from her, and his stupid grin had taken ages to go away.

  Boomer had monitored the entire thing out loud for him.

  Zane had given him a couple of good body checks in practice today in retaliation. Boomer was a tough player and would give as good as he got, but he wasn’t as intense as Zane.

  No one was.

  That was the point.

  He hadn’t seen Mara today, given his schedule and her schedule, and they didn’t have any plans set for the week. He couldn’t wait until they decided on something, so he was being impulsive and inviting himself to something he probably shouldn’t be doing.

  Recreational volleyball.

  He loved the sport, played with his siblings and step-siblings at family gatherings, but he was usually pretty strict about additional physical activities during the hockey season. No sense in injuring himself, or risking injury, over something that wasn’t even related to his sport. If his coaches knew what he was about to do, they wouldn’t necessarily get after him, but they definitely would raise some eyebrows.

  He wouldn’t blame them.

  But he also didn’t have any reservations.

  He wanted to be with Mara, and he wanted to prove that he could be part of her life as much as he wanted her to be part of his.

  Might not make much sense, but there it was.

  His car’s Bluetooth suddenly signaled an incoming call, and he glanced at the dash quickly.

  Bree Stone was calling. Interesting.

  Bree was Clint McCarthy’s better half, and she had decided to take on the impossible task of saving the Northbrook Hockey program. He’d gone to her gala in November, helped with camps when he could, and played in a promo all-star game she’d spearheaded. Now her new nonprofit, Prime Outreach Incorporated, was digging into the deeper stuff. It had been a minute since she’d reached out about another opportunity, but he found himself smiling at the thought of more ideas on her end.

  She hadn’t had a bad one yet.

  Except maybe falling for Clint, but there was no accounting for taste.

  He hit the answer button. “Z here.”

  “Hey Zane!” Her voice chimed with a brightness she didn’t usually possess. “How are things?”

  “Warm and sunny,” he shot back. “Freezing in Chicago still?”

  “Not nice, is it really warm and sunny?”

  He laughed once. “No. It’s forty-seven degrees and going to rain.”

  “I actually feel better now, thanks. Is Hope with you?”

  Zane smiled as he reached a stoplight. “Nope. Baby girl is at home in bed, sorry. You weren’t calling me to talk to her, were you?”

  “I’ll never tell, but while I’ve got you . . .” She broke off for a quick laugh. “What are you doing in like ten days?”

  “Probably playing hockey . . .” He thought out his schedule quickly, gently tapping the gas pedal as the light turned green. “That’s right around Hope’s birthday, and it might ac
tually be a long stretch. Why? Whatcha got?”

  He heard her rummaging around, saying something he didn’t catch to someone there with her. “Sorry, Grizz needed my chair.”

  “What? Rude. You tell that guy I got his number if he’s swiping your chair.”

  Bree erupted in laughter. “Right, okay, that’s my new favorite image. Anyway. Think you can get up here for a dedication of the new team room?”

  Zane frowned in thought. “Wait a sec, it’s done? That was supposed to take another month at least.”

  “I know! But they pulled out a miracle, and they want to dedicate it ASAP. Get this—we’re naming it after Coach Fenwick.”

  A smile flashed across Zane’s face at that. “Perfect. I’m in, if I can. Lemme check a few things, and I’ll text you tonight. That work?”

  “Absolutely. Hey, Zane? Bring Hope with you. I missed her last time.”

  He nodded in secret delight that Bree wouldn’t see, loving how the entire group had adopted his daughter. “I can do that. Gotta go, Bree. Talk to you soon.” He hung up and shook his head, laughing at the sheer madness that had been this rejuvenation of Northbrook.

  It was worth it in at least a dozen ways, and he would do far more than he had done, if required, to see the program saved. Reconnecting with his old teammates might be the best part. They’d never been super close when they were teammates, but in adulthood, they had formed a sort of brotherhood that meant a lot to him these days.

  Funny how that worked.

  Zane shook himself as he pulled into the parking lot of the community center, grinning as he practically jumped out of the car and headed in. He couldn’t say that he had been here before, unless it had been to check out the daycare for Hope, but it couldn’t be too difficult to navigate.

  Once he entered the building, it was actually pretty straightforward. He followed the sounds of tennis shoes squeaking loudly, of a ball hitting the floor with incredible force, and of the unmistakable mixture of laughter, groans, and cheers that spoke of friendly competition.

  It made him smirk to think of that. There was nothing friendly about his kind of competition.

  The first gym had an actual team, so he moved to the second, and he paused at the door, watching for a minute.