Page 55 of Power Play

“That sounds like fun,” I manage.

“Great. I should be home by the time she’s waking up from her morning nap.” He sips his coffee, his dark eyes on me. “Unless you guys want to come with me and she takes a stroller nap?”

I blink a few times. “You want us to come to the rink?”

“We’re just getting in a quick lift. I’ll be out in an hour, tops. You can see where I go everyday.”

“I’ve been to the arena.”

“The rink is different. It’s more… intimate.”

“Okay,” I find myself agreeing. “Let’s go to the rink.”

He grins at me, and the happiness on his face makes my stomach clench. He’s so fucking beautiful. Maybe it’s a weird thought to have about my husband. He’s not classically handsome, not with the giant nose that’s been broken a few times and the deep set of his hooded eyes. His features are striking, sure. But it’s his happy-go-lucky, easygoing personality that makes him beautiful.

We get packed for the rink before he changes Emmy into a warmer outfit, and to both our surprise, she doesn’t scream bloody murder when he puts on her booties.

The training facility is in Brighton, and with midmorning traffic, it takes nearly half an hour to get there. I’m still not used to the constant traffic in Boston turning a seven-mile drive into something infinitely longer. I thought Phoenix was bad, but now I know there’s no comparison.

Al swipes his team badge through the security gate, finding a parking spot near the entrance since there are only a handful of cars here at this time. He pulls Emmy’s stroller from the trunk and settles her in it. As I expected, she passed out as soon as we got in the car, and I drape a lightweight blanket over the top of the stroller. Hopefully, she’ll sleep better knowing her dad is nearby. I know I did.

He wheels the stroller through the front doors, stopping at a small security station.

“Steve, this is my wife, Riley. This is Steve. He’ll get you authenticated so you can come by without me.”

“ID please, ma’am,” the guard says.

He’s tall and wide, with a shiny bald head damp with sweat. I catch sight of a photo on the desk behind him. He’s standing with another man, each of them holding tiny newborns. They look happy.

We don’t have any photos of both me and Al with Emmy. I have a bunch of him with her, and plenty more by herself, and I’ve even taken a few selfies while holding her. But there aren’t any of the three of us together. Our family.

Steve types a few things on his computer, then gestures for me to stand in front of his booth. He takes my photo, and two minutes later, I have a brand-new security pass.

“This will get you into both the rink and the arena, so you’re good to go,” he says.

“Perfect, thank you.”

“Welcome to the family.” He grins. “We’re glad to have you.”

“Me too.”

Al clears his throat. “We’ve gotta get going.”

“Right. Have a good workout, Gonzo. Riley.” Steve salutes us both.

“The administrative offices are in the west wing,” Al says as he pushes the stroller down a hallway. “The rink is on the other side of the building. But we’re not skating today.”

“That might be fun. I’ve never done that before.” When he stares at me, I add, “Ice skating.”

He stops in his tracks. “You’ve never skated?”

My laugh bounces off the surrounding walls, and I cringe for a second, hoping it won’t wake Emmy. “Foster kid in Arizona. Never had the opportunity, and even if I had, it would have cost too much.”

“Okay, that’s it,” he says, grabbing hold of my hand. “We’re going to skate.”

He turns to the right, leading me down another hallway and into a lounge with couches and several long tables, two pool tables, and a giant TV. He stops to grab a bottle of water, handing it to me.

“Any of the drinks and snacks in here are fair game,” he says. “Feel free to watch whatever you want on the TV. I’ll be back soon.”