Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen

Dominik Mason was getting very good at taking care of bumps and bruises. Even imaginary ones. A man would have to be bleeding on the ice to get this kind of sympathy, but when Bran whimpered and pointed to his toe before bursting out in tears, he immediately picked up the toddler and brought him to the kitchen to inspect the ‘injury’.

There was none.

This had happened before, but Bran crying still got to Dominik every time and had taken a few visits with Bran’s therapist to feel like he was handling this right. He obviously couldn’t scold a baby for faking an injury, but the therapist had gently explained, while it was a cry for attention—even though both Dominik and Sahara were giving Bran plenty—he shouldn’t make too much of the little boy pretending to be hurt.

Bran was unintentionally testing them. He needed to see how they would react if he was hurt, or sad. Their reaction would teach him trust and coping skills, and indulging him with a Band-Aid on a made-up wound was harmless. The therapist said he’d grow out of the behavior in time.

The tears still broke Dominik’s heart.

Sitting Bran on the kitchen table, Dominik dried the little boy’s tears with his thumb, then pulled off the tiny sock covering the ‘injury.

As expected, there was nothing. Not even a red mark. Dominik checked twice, just in case.

“Show me where it hurts, buddy.” Dominik schooled his features as Bran pointed at his other foot. “Oh! Silly me!”

Bran giggled, then sniffed, holding still as Dominik eased off his other sock. He touched the center of Dominik’s chest with a finger. “Ouch.”

Almost a perfect impression of ET. Dominik grinned. He’d thought the kid was too young for the movie, but when Sahara suggest a weekly movie night of the classics, that was the one Bran latched on to. He asked to watch it almost every day now. It was the movie Dominik put on when he was alone in the house with the toddler and needed to workout, do paperwork, or answer calls.

“Yes, it hurts my heart when you’ve got a boo-boo.” Dominik still couldn’t say that last word without internally snickering, but he kept his expression serious as he grabbed the colorful, Spider-Man Band-aids from Sahara’s ‘everything drawer’. He’d gotten somewhat used to her organized chaos, though now that he was back from Chicago, he’d probably spend some time setting the house to rights.

He loved his woman, but one look inside the cabinets that morning made him consider banning her from the kitchen. Dean Richter had pretty much done that with his partners—then again, they were likely to burn the house down. Sahara wasn’t that bad. She just didn’t see the need in putting all the mugs together. Or piling plates with their sets. And the Tupperware? Of course it could just be tossed into the cupboard. So long as the door shut after, right?

“More ouch.” Bran nudged him, then pointed at his forehead. “Here.”

Dominik chuckled, pulling out another Band-aid. “I think you just like these Band-aids. How about we get you some stickers? And a sticker book?”

“Yes!”

After allowing Bran two more Band-aids, Dominik decided to distract the kid with some toys on the living room floor while he checked his neglected messages. He’d gotten an email from Rebecca Bower, which asked all players to avoid commenting on the latest social media ‘faux pas’ by White.

Do I even want to know?

As the captain of the team, he should probably know what was going on, but the email was days old and Becky likely had it handled. If not, he’d get another email. Or a phone call.

His other emails were from his manager—endorsement offers for him to consider—and hundreds of emails from fans he’d forwarded for Dominik to reply to personally. There was also a box of letters, which sat in a box in Dominik’s office. He’d start on those tomorrow.

He used to avoid things piling up like this, but between trips to Chicago to spend time with his mom, or his siblings, and having kids around the house, his carefully organized life had taken a hit. Sahara took on more than her share managing the house and the kids, but over time he’d done what he could to find some balance. She’d have the bulk of the responsibilities during the season unless he hired help.

Which he was seriously considering, no matter how much she insisted she could handle things. He refused to let her put her ambitions to become a manager for the Ice Girls once she retired from the team on hold. They were building a family together, one that had come to them without much warning, but that they both wanted more than anything.

Even with the clutter, tears, Legos to step on, and sleepless nights. The sweet baby smiles, countless hugs, and knowing there were three young people who trusted him so much made every bit of uncertainty worth it.

The front door opening, then shutting softly, drew his attention and he set his phone aside, not surprised to see Heath pad quietly into the living room in his socked feet. His young mentee always came in quietly, whereas Sahara rushed in breathlessly, and Kimber slammed the door while kicking her shoes off, as though everything she did was meant to announce her presence. The girl made up for the quiet of her brothers in spades.

“Kimber out?” Heath stood in the doorframe, curly reddish-blond hair damp from his workout, lips curving slightly as he watched his little brother play. “It’s almost eight.”

“Her curfew is at 10.” Dominik leaned back against the sofa, studying the young man as Heath’s expression hardened and he stared at the wall. “We discussed this.”

“She’s fourteen. Why does she need to be out so late?” Heath squared his shoulders, finally meeting Dominik’s level gaze. “Who is she with? She doesn’t know anyone around here.”

Since Heath usually used as few words as possible in any conversation, the questions were good, but Dominik wasn’t sure what to make of them. Or how to respond. He’d encouraged both teens to go out more, make new friends, feel safe enough to make Dartmouth their home, but while Kimber had done that with enthusiasm, excited to return and tell him and Sahara all about her day, Heath had become more withdrawn. He’d know what Kimber was doing if he’d asked her himself, but the two rarely talked anymore.

Come to think of it, Heath had stopped opening up to anyone.

Was there something going on with him he was afraid to discuss? Dominik being his team captain might make disclosing certain things difficult, but only during the season. If he was getting in trouble with his buddies.

Maybe pulling more pranks?

Please don’t let it be more pranks.

Heath was already suspended for the first preseason games due to a few ‘jokes’ that had gone too far in the rivalry he, Richards, and Hunt had with the ‘Trouble Triplets’. The last thing he needed was to draw attention from management again. With the team’s future so uncertain, trading a young player like Heath might be appealing. He was skilled enough to be valuable, but any signs of being ‘problematic’ could lead to him being shipped off to a team who believed they could ‘work with him’. While a team on the market would want to avoid making waves with their core players.

Dominik had been thinking about the possible move a lot. He’d stick with the team.

But he wanted Heath with him. The boy wasn’t ready to be on his own.

His silence seemed to irritate Heath, but the young man only sighed and crossed the room, slumping into the armchair closest to the window. He laughed as Bran looked up abruptly and leaped off the floor, into his lap.

Hugging his brother tight, Heath glanced over at Dominik. “She’s made friends.”

“Yes.” Dominik settled in to wait, knowing after months of learning how to make Heath comfortable that the young man would take his time sorting through his thoughts before speaking again.

If at all.

Finally, Heath nodded. “And if I want to know who she’s with, I should ask her.”

“Yes, but it’s not a secret. She’s hanging out with some girls in the local midget girls hockey team. I bought her some roller blades the other day and she’s practicing on them until the local rink opens.”

“She wants to play hockey?”

Dominik nodded, chuckling at Heath’s confused look. “Maybe she hasn’t told you because she wants you to be impressed. You know how much she admires you.”

Jaw clenched, Heath stood, giving Bran one last squeeze before setting him on the floor near Dominik. “She shouldn’t.”

With that, Heath strode out of the room.

As though that ended the conversation.

Not likely. Dominik moved to stand, but Bran grabbed his arm, eyes wide. The toddler didn’t speak, he simply climbed into Dominik’s lap and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

Looked like the talk would have to wait.

Sighing, Dominik pressed his lips to Bran’s soft, light auburn curls. “I think we’re going to need more than a Band-aid this time.”

Still sucking his thumb, Bran nodded.