Page 121 of Pucking Daddy

“I do,” I insist, tightening my grip just slightly. “You just… you changed everything for him.”

“I did it for you,” he says. “And you’re welcome.”

And the way he says it, like it was never even a question, does something dangerous to my heart.

For a moment, we just stand there, holding each other.

Finally, I pull back just enough to look at him. “We should probably talk about the court case, huh? Your attorney wants to do a video prep session this afternoon. Testimony rehearsal.”

“We can use the conference room at the arena,” he says. “Quieter than here.”

"Works for me."

He straightens, but his hand remains on my shoulder, thumb brushing absently against the curve of my neck.

"Lily asked about the court this morning." I turn to face him, watching his expression shift. "She said if anyone asks, she'll tell them about grilled cheese and glitter."

Something flickers in his eyes—fear, maybe, or something softer. "She shouldn't have to deal with any of this."

"No. But she's handling it better than we are." I reach up, covering his hand with mine. "She's resilient. You raised her that way."

I break eye contact first, gathering the papers into a neat stack. "We should get moving. Long day ahead."

***

The arena's conference room smells like stale coffee and dry-erase markers, but it's private—tucked away from the media circus that seems to follow Jaxon everywhere these days.

I've set up my laptop at one end of the table, the attorney's face filling the screen, while Jaxon paces near the windows.

"Describe your role in Lily's life," Rebecca Sullivan says, her voice crisp through the speakers.

She is silver-haired and sharp-eyed, the kind of woman who has probably never lost a case and doesn't intend to start now.

I straighten in my chair. "I'm her primary caregiver during Jaxon's work hours. I handle school pickup, meals, activities, homework. I'm there when she wakes up and when she goes to bed."

"And beyond the logistics?"

I pause, thinking. "She trusts me. When she's scared or confused, she comes to me. When she needs help with something—tying her shoes, understanding why the sky is blue, figuring out friendship drama with her classmates—I'm the one she asks."

I glance at Jaxon, who has stopped pacing to watch. "My presence brings stability, I think. A home filled with consistency and support."

Rebecca nods, making notes. "Good. Specific and emotionally resonant without being saccharine. Now, opposing counsel will likely challenge the legitimacy of your relationship with Mr. Halberg. They'll suggest it's a manufactured arrangement designed to influence the court."

“It’s not manufactured.” The words come out sharper than I intend. “We’ve built a real connection. The stability in this household—the way Lily has flourished—that’s not something you can fake.”

"Excellent." Rebecca's pen taps against her notepad. "Maintain that conviction. Judges can smell insincerity a mile away."

We run through a dozen more scenarios—questions about my background, my qualifications, my intentions for the future.

Jaxon jumps in occasionally, his responses measured and precise, the coach in him emerging whenever strategy is discussed.

I notice how he defers to me on matters related to Lily's daily care, how he references specific moments I've shared with his daughter as evidence of our bond.

"One more," Rebecca says. "They may ask about the intimate nature of your relationship. Whether it predated the employment arrangement."

My stomach drops. Beside me, Jaxon goes very still.

"We don't have to answer that," I say carefully.