Page 85 of Pucking Daddy

Across the room, Lily looks up and waves at us, grinning. We both wave back.

"There's a charity gala next week," Jaxon says, still watching his daughter. "Black tie, major donors, press coverage. Simone thinks we should attend together."

I stiffen. "Together together?"

"As a couple. Publicly." He finally looks at me. "I know it's a lot. It's not just showing up—it's cameras, questions, performing for people who'll pick apart every detail."

My instinct is to run. I'd spent my career invisible, valuable precisely because I fade into the background of other people's lives.

Stepping into spotlights, onto red carpets, into the scrutiny of people looking for weaknesses—that is the opposite of everything I've built.

But I think about Lily. About the hearing. About Jaxon's face when he talks about foster homes and absent fathers.

"Okay."

He blinks. "Okay?"

"I'll need something to wear." I manage a smile. "And probably a crash course in small talk with billionaires."

"Zara—"

"This is what we agreed to, right? Whatever it takes." I stand, brushing off my jeans. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised Lily I'd help her build a pillow fort in the kids' area."

I walk away before he can respond, before I can think too hard about what I've just committed to.

The gala will push me so far outside my comfort zone I'll need a map to find my way back.

But as I kneel beside Lily and start stacking cushions according to her exacting specifications, I catch Jaxon watching us.

Something has shifted between us today—not just attraction or convenience, but understanding. The kind that comes from showing someone the parts of yourself you usually keep hidden.

It should have scared me more than it does.

Later, as the event winds down and families start leaving, Jaxon finds us in the pillow fort. Lily has fallen asleep against my shoulder, worn out from the excitement.

"I've got her." He lifts her carefully, and she mumbles something about dragons before settling against his chest.

We walk to the car in comfortable silence, Lily snoring softly between us.

The day has been a test, and somehow I've passed. But the gala looms ahead—a bigger test, with higher stakes.

"You didn't have to say yes," Jaxon says as he buckles Lily into her car seat.

"I know."

He straightens, standing too close in the parking garage's dim light. "Why did you?"

I think about lying. About giving him some practical answer about contracts and agreements. But after everything we've shared today, that feels wrong.

"Because you asked. Because it matters." I climb into the passenger seat before I can say anything else. "Now take us home, Coach. Your daughter needs her bed."

He rounds the car, and as he slides behind the wheel, I see the ghost of a smile on his face.

Home. I'd called it home.

And the scariest part is how right that has felt.

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