Scoring Off The Ice (Ice Kings #2) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,88
for Mikah. But that’s it. I’m now his neighbor, and I’ll have to go back to remembering that.
Which I should have done from the very beginning.
It’s Saturday afternoon and Angelo and I have just gotten back to Mikah’s after a walk around Uptown. I took him out early this morning and swung through the farmer’s market, something I’ve never done but will definitely be doing again. It wasn’t even the fresh fruits and vegetables from local farmers that I loved so much, but the energy in the streets. Bright flowers seemed to be on every third stand. There was live music. People, happy to be out and about sipping their coffee drinks from local coffeehouses, getting early morning exercise. Kids of all ages ran around and I stopped and petted so many puppies I’m now itching to get to a rescue event and get myself one.
Ha. Uncle Trent would kill me. But what he doesn’t know….
Regardless, it was a great morning. I spent the rest of it working while Angelo napped and after lunch, I took him to the rooftop where we walked around some more. I pushed him in the lone infant swing. We saw more puppies in their dog parks and then watched a foursome play some incredible competitive tennis. By my count? The losing team is now down several hundred dollars.
I’m feeling refreshed and tired, the perfect early fall combination when we return to Mikah’s. I’ve fed Angelo again and he’s happily sitting in his swing while I clean up the living area. The last thing I want is for Mikah to return Monday and have his home be a mess. Mid-folding a blanket from Angelo’s laundry I started this morning, my phone rings with the FaceTime sound and it takes me several seconds to realize I’m staring at Mikah’s face. And why I’m staring at his face.
Of course. He probably wants to check on Angelo.
With trembling hands and a buzzing sensation of nerves sliding up my arms, I grab my phone and swipe right. It takes a minute for Mikah’s face to appear, and when he does, he looks wrecked.
His hair that’s usually styled nicely is a disaster. His scruff is longer, making him look like hasn’t shaved in days.
“Paisley.” He says my name on a gasp and then his eyes narrow. “Why are you in my home? And where is Viola? Is everything okay? I have been trying to reach her and she’s not answering and Angelo… oh God. Angelo… is he okay?”
“Woah—” I hold up a hand to stop him before realizing he can’t see it. “Viola’s sick, Mikah. Didn’t she call you?”
“Sick. She had a cough. Said it was a cold.”
Oh. This is bad. This is bad, bad, bad.
“Mikah.” I try to soften my voice. “She called me last night and her cough was bad. She said she had a fever and asked if I could take over. I’m sorry. So, so sorry. She said she’d clear it with you.”
“She did not call. She is okay?”
“She didn’t look that bad.” But that cough. I shiver at that wretched sound. “I haven’t talked to her but I can call her.”
“No. I will.” His stressed features seem to ease, and he pulls in a large breath. “Angelo. He is okay?”
I turn so Angelo is behind me, over my shoulder. He has one thumb in his mouth and his other hand is reaching for a duck that spins around over his head.
“He’s good. He slept well. I’ve taken care of him. We went to the farmer’s market this morning and then to the rooftop this afternoon. I’m taking good care of him, Mikah.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to reassure him. He’s seen me with him.
There is a pause, a long one, too long, where he stares at Angelo on the small screen before he closes his eyes.
Oh no. He’s not going to tell me to leave, is he? He can. He can call the nanny service and get a replacement.
“I like you in my home. With him.”
“Don’t.” My word comes out harsh and my cheeks start to burn. “Don’t say that to me.”
His blue eyes, so dark and vivid even through the small screen in my hand burn straight to chest. “I am sorry, Paisley. So sorry. I did… what I did… that was wrong.”
I shake my head. I can’t listen to this. Not now.
“Mikah—”
“I will explain when I get home. But I like you there. With him. It is as it