Page 151 of Pucking Daddy

I fall back against the pillows, covering my face. “She just gave us relationship advice.”

He exhales, still smiling. “I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Good plan.”

The laughter fades into something softer and Jaxon is still looking at me. It’s that same look from before. Warm. Sure. A little amused.

“Ahem,” I say, trying to recover some dignity. “Where were we?”

His mouth curves slowly.

“Research,” he says.

My stomach flips again.

“Right,” I murmur.

A pause.

Then, from down the hall—

“DAD! PANCAKES!”

I let out a soft laugh.

“Your study has been… postponed.”

He pushes himself up, running a hand through his hair.

“Come on,” he says, glancing back at me. “Let’s go feed the tiny dictator.”

***

After we survive breakfast with an entirely too-cool Lily, I take her to school. The past few days have been so hectic I’ve barely had her to myself, and I savor the time we get.

After a quick hug, she’s off, disappearing through the doors, and I head back home.

Home. It still feels strange to think of it that way.

Back at the apartment, I keep myself busy with chores. Jaxon’s at the rink, back to his practice schedule. His team won against Chicago last night, putting them at the top going into the playoffs.

It’s all working out even better than we could have hoped.

Now all that’s left is to wait for the judge’s decision.

28

JAXON

We Got It

The rink smells the same.

Cold air, sharpened steel, that faint mix of rubber and sweat that’s been part of my life for so long it feels like muscle memory. The sound hits me next—the steady scrape of skates, the thud of pucks against boards, the low hum of voices echoing across the ice.

I stand just inside the boards for a moment, arms crossed, watching.

Nate is already running the drill at center ice, barking instructions with a confidence that wasn’t there a season ago. The lines move cleanly. Sharp passes. Fast transitions. No hesitation.