Page 79 of One Kind Goal

Morgan explained where she’d left him and several large hockey players took off.

“Don’t worry,” Brett said, rubbing Morgan’s arm. “You and the kid are safe in here. I cleared the media out and was about to text Sawyer.”

She looked up to see Nia swinging her legs on a bench across the room, the Anchors goalie making her laugh as he juggled balled up socks.

“I hope Nia wasn’t filmed in any way. Sawyer was so happy her mother let him take her to this game. It makes me furious that some idiot ruined that because he had a gripe with the Anchors.”

“A gripe with us?”

“Yeah.” Morgan rubbed her forehead. “He said you guys cheated, which is total bullshit. He was just starting trouble.”

“Fucking morons.” Brett’s other hand tightened into a fist on his knee. “You want some water or something?”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks.” She peeked over at Nia again, but the girl appeared to be well entertained still.

Brett looked at Nia too. “I can’t believe Sawyer has a kid. She’s adorable. How old is she?”

“Four. I guess her mom grew up with a famous parent and she didn’t enjoy that. She didn’t want Nia to be in that situation too. Sawyer hasn’t gotten to see Nia much.” Morgan stood and paced in front of Brett. “I hope I got her out of there in time.” Because if she hadn’t . . . she didn’t want to finish that thought.

“You did what you could,” Brett said.

“I could have acted sooner. I just couldn’t believe what was happening. To see my brother spread-eagled on the floor and then Sawyer’s mouth was all bloody . . .” She shook her head. “We’d had a wonderful time watching the game and then everything went to shit.”

The locker room doors blew open and Sawyer came barreling in, the other hockey players who had gone to support him coming in a moment later. The blood had been wiped away from his face, but the fire in his hazel eyes burned brightly. His left hand was fisted by his side. When his gaze landed on Morgan, he strode over to her in two big steps.

“Are you okay?” He looked her over then pulled her in close, his big body surrounding her.

Morgan wrapped her arms around him, her palms flattening on his back and her cheek pressing to his chest. “I’m fine. Are you?” She angled her head back to take in his jaw. “That prick made you bleed.”

“I’m fine.” He released her and looked at Nia who was tossing a sock ball with the goalie now. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah,” Brett said. “Max has done a pro-level job keeping her occupied. I guess all his experience with his twins comes in handy now and then.”

Sawyer scrubbed a hand down his face and sifted out a long breath. “Security took that dickhead. He won’t be watching any more hockey games here in Montreal.”

“Where are Charlie and Austin?” Morgan asked.

“Getting some ice for Austin’s cheek. He slammed it into the flooring pretty hard when he fell.” A muscle in Sawyer’s jaw ticked. “I can’t believe that fucking bastard started with us like that. We were minding our own business.” He glanced Nia’s way again then took Morgan’s hands in his. “Thank you for getting Nia out of there.”

“I’m not sure I got her out of there fast enough, Sawyer.” Morgan slid her hands free of his and took up pacing again. “I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave you and Austin.” Which was foolish. What did she think she was going to do? Fight off those unruly fans herself? Hell, they’d started by bumping into her and she would have face-planted if it weren’t for Sawyer grabbing her shirt.

Taking her hands again, Sawyer stilled her and said, “You attempted to protect Nia, and that means everything to me, Morgan. Everything.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Daddy!” Nia ran over and leaped into Sawyer’s arms when he held them open to her. She fingered his jaw where slight bruising was visible. “Why did that man hit you?”

“Because he has no manners,” Brett said.

“And he’s a sore loser,” Morgan said. “The Anchors won, fair and square.”

“We worked hard for that win,” Max said. “The net was a busy place for me tonight.”

Sawyer held out his left hand and the two of them exchanged a quick handshake. “Dude, you defended the net as if it was under siege.”

“You bet I did.” Max held up a puck. “And your secret daughter here needs to take this home. It’s the last-goal-of-the-night puck.”

Nia took it and held it to her chest. “Thank you, Max.”

“You got it, cutie.” He gave her arm a light pinch. “It was so nice to meet you, Miss Nia.” Max shifted his gaze to Sawyer. “Finally.”