I don’t want to tell him any of these things because I’m scared that one day soon he’s going to really wake up and notice what he’s getting with me, and I’m terrified that it will become clear to him that I’m not the catch he thinks I am.

So I pick my brush back up and I keep painting.

Chapter 25

Max

“Can I get your autograph, Mr. Fournier?” I hear from behind me. I only give a quick glance over my shoulder, keeping my hands firmly gripped to Annabelle’s waist as she navigates a horizontal rope bridge that sits a few feet off the ground. “Sure thing. Give me just a second.”

I walk with Annabelle along the entire length of the bridge, the kid asking for an autograph following along with me. As Annabelle hops down, I glance over at Jules, who’s pushing Levy on a tire swing. Beyond her, Kate and Zack are standing atop a wide slide built into a little hill, watching as Ben and Rocco take turns sliding down it and running back up the hill again.

“I want to do it again,” Annabelle says as she tugs on the hem of my shirt.

“Anything for you, cutie,” I say as I ruffle her hair. “Give me just a second.”

I turn to the kid. A boy, maybe about ten. His parents are hovering close by, looking worried they may be imposing. And they sort of are, but it’s what you do when you’re in my position. You never take for granted any child who might be looking up to you as a role model. If I were to be an ass to this kid, tell him I’m too busy, what does that teach him?

To be an asshole.

I take a moment, sign the autograph, and then pose for a few pictures, all while Annabelle watches me carefully. When I’m done, I take her by the hand and lead her back to the beginning of the rope bridge. It’s a moderately chilly day for North Carolina, which means mid-fifties for December, thus there aren’t a ton of people out here today.

“Why did you write on that piece of paper?” she asks me as I lift her back up. She places her feet carefully, one in front of the other, her hands holding onto the ropes at her side. My hands go back to her waist as she starts walking it.

“You know I play hockey, right?” I ask her. “As my job.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I have fans . . . and they like to collect my signature or take pictures with me,” I explain to her.

“What’s a fan?” she asks, not taking her eyes off her feet, but truly invested in the conversation.

I laugh and try to give the simplest explanation. “A fan is someone that really, really likes me.”

“Then I’m your fan too,” she says, and fuck . . . if that doesn’t cause my heart to melt.

Seems it’s been doing that a lot around these kids, the more I spend time with them. Jules has done just a remarkable job of keeping them centered and grounded. They’re good kids, not without some faults, but for the most part my day is always better any time I can spend with them.

A glance back over at Jules and I see her watching us, a light smile on her face. I wink at her. Her smile doesn’t lessen but it doesn’t get any brighter either as she turns back to give another push to Levy.

Something’s wrong with her.

I have no clue what it is, because she insists nothing is wrong when I ask her.

But I know differently. She’s been just a little distant since I got back from Chicago yesterday. Hell, the distance actually started when I was in Chicago, because for the first time ever, she didn’t answer the phone when I called her. It had become our ritual when I was at an away game. I’d call her as soon as I made it back to the hotel and we’d talk about the game. She’d taken to watching my games with fervor, chattering away at me excitedly if we won, or with softly empathetic tones if we lost. But she didn’t pick up the phone the other night and it made me wonder.

If I’d had my way about things, I would have preferred to spend today alone with her. We’d talked about it earlier this week, because Kate and Zack were going to use his day off today to take Ben to the Durham Life and Sciences Museum. They’d invited Annabelle, Levy, and Rocco to go along and thus it was the perfect opportunity for me and Jules to have a day to ourselves. I figured maybe we’d go out to lunch, and then perhaps back to my house where we’d spend the rest of the day in bed.

Good plan, except Jules didn’t want to do that. Instead she wanted to go with the kids, and I wasn’t about to tell her no. Spending time with them was just as important to me, and I figured that one day Jules would be mine in all ways. That might mean moving in together or it might mean marriage, but for now I had to take what I could get from her and it didn’t bother me in the slightest. As long as we could be together, didn’t matter if it was when I was balls deep in her or hanging out with her and the kids.

Any Jules time was perfect time.

Except when she’s like this.

Distant.

Closed off.

Unapproachable.

I have no fucking clue what’s going on, but figure I’d try again tonight after the kids go to bed. I’m staying the night whether she likes it or not, and I’m willing to battle a sore back from her couch.

Annabelle jumps down at the end of the ladder and yells, “Again.”

“Of course, again,” I tell her.

I glance again at Jules as she pushes Levy on the tire swing, and hesitate when I see him grab the ropes and pull himself up to a standing position.

“Levy,” Jules snaps at him. “Sit back down.”

He doesn’t obey and instead uses leverage on the peak of the back swing to propel the swing higher.

“Watch, Aunt Jules,” he exclaims when at the peak of the front swing he launches himself off the tire. He doesn’t get much air but I’ll admit my heart jumps into my throat as I watch him hurtle toward the ground, where thankfully he lands with grace on his two feet.

I start to lift Annabelle up the ladder, but Jules is stalking toward Levy, her face a mask of fury that stops me. She reaches him, grabs him by the arm and leans over to get in his face where she yells, “Damn it, Levy. When I tell you to do something, you better damn well do it.”

To perhaps any other parent, this wouldn’t seem like an over the top reaction for a child who doesn’t listen and willingly does something stupid where they could be hurt. But not once since we’ve been together have I ever heard Jules yell at one of the kids. And it’s not just that she yelled, but that she did it while holding onto his arm and with anger vibrating from every pore on her body. She yelled loud, and it garnered the attention of everyone in the vicinity.