Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Oh sweet,” he says, “let me know how it goes.”
“I will, and speaking of,” she says, lips curving up in a smile, “did you forget to answer my email?”
Corbin smirks. “Of course not. I’m still mulling it over.”
“It’s a good idea, and you know it,” she teases.
I glance between them, noting the way she holds her own but teases him too. Then I turn her name over in my head. She must be Mabel as in Mabel’s Cookies. The one who did a partnership with a San Francisco ice cream shop a few months ago.
As if reading my mind, Corbin nods to me.
“Mabel, this is Tyler. He plays hockey for the second-best team in the city. Tyler, this is Mabel. My best friend’s sister,” Corbin says, his tone lighter now, “also known as the best baker in the world.”
“Nice to meet you, Mabel,” I say.
“You too,” she says.
“Her cookies are the best,” he adds.
Mabel lifts a shoulder and holds his gaze. “You know that sounds vaguely dirty, right?”
Corbin wiggles his eyebrows. “I do.”
Mabel rolls her eyes. “I’ll catch up with you later. We can talk about that idea.”
“Absolutely.”
“And nice to meet you, Tyler. Also, I’m sure your team is actually the best.”
“We are,” I say and once she takes off, I glance at him. “What idea?”
Corbin tells me the plans, and color me intrigued. “Will you do it?”
“I think so.”
“Sounds like a recipe for trouble,” I say, thinking of the way he looked at her when she nearly passed him by.
Corbin grins. “But I like trouble.” Then he clears his throat. “But back to you. What’s the plan with Sabrina?”
That’s the question. And I need to figure it out fast.
On the drive home that afternoon, my mind spins with how to make it real. What to say to Sabrina. How to figure out if she’s even ready. How to tell the kids we’re…well, into each other.
And fuck, it’s hard.
They’ve only ever known me with their mom. Since the divorce, I’ve been decidedly single. They’ve been introduced to exactly no one.
Do we just skip ahead and say, Hey, we live together now? And then I move her upstairs?
I really need to talk to Sabrina. Tomorrow, I’ve got morning skate, and then a game in the afternoon. Maybe we’ll have the talk tonight, after the kids go to bed.
Yeah. That’s a good plan. Because all these almosts are getting hard to manage. Pretty soon, I’ll loop an arm around her in front of them without thinking—and that’s not the way for them to find out.
But Corbin’s words keep pressing on my brain. “Have you thought about what that looks like for you?”
I need to figure out what this looks like for all of us.
I put those thoughts aside when we swing by Little Friends and pick up our newest foster—a calico named Olive. Sabrina holds the carrier in her lap the rest of the way home, peeking inside as the kitten lets out a soft meow.
“She’s perfect,” Luna whispers from the backseat.
Parker nods solemnly. “I think she likes us already.”
Sabrina laughs. “I bet she does.”
By the time we pull into the driveway, the kids are plotting how to introduce Olive to her new temporary home and debating when she’ll use Drama’s cat tower. They race ahead as I grab the bag of kitten supplies from the backseat.
Once inside, Sabrina heads for her apartment and unlocks the door. “Oh my god. Maybe I didn’t leave the heater on,” Sabrina gasps, her teeth chattering. “It’s freezing in here.” Sabrina hugs herself.
“The cat can’t stay there then,” Luna announces.
“Sabrina can’t either,” Parker points out.
“Obviously,” Luna says dryly.
“It’s not dangerously freezing. Just, like, fifty degrees,” Sabrina says.
Which is still way too cold for a home.
I check the thermostat. Adjust it. Check it again. Fiddle with the Nest.
Twenty minutes later, her place is still an icebox. I call the repair place, and they say they’ll come in the morning.
“Sabrina, you’ll have to sleep upstairs with Olive,” Luna announces, then wiggles her brows. “Slumber party in the living room!”
“Can we?” Parker asks, clearly already planning the movie and popcorn situation like he did the last time we had one. We’ve got a massive couch with ottomans that slide into the middle, turning it into an even bigger bed.
“Does that work for you and Olive?” I ask Sabrina.
She grins. “All I have to say is…we’d better get in jammies now!”
So, no big talk tonight.
Instead, we’re all bundled under blankets in the living room, with a new foster cat exploring the home, watching Frozen for what has to be the fiftieth time.
And as Anna arrives at the ice palace, I decide I’ll talk to my mom, my sister and my brother as soon as possible. Yeah. That’s it. They can help me figure this out.
I send them a text, and somewhere between Kristoff grumbling about ice sales and Olaf singing about summer, I drift off under the covers, with my kids sandwiched between me and Sabrina.