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“It’s kind of nice having Tank wait on me hand and foot. He actually carries me to bed, which would be romantic if he didn’t employ the fireman hold, simply so he can smack my ass along the way.”

Both women laughed.

Dean didn’t. One, because he didn’t need to hear any specifics about his daughter’s physical relationship with one of his players, and two, because he didn’t even know she’d hurt her ankle.

Which just proved the guilt he was feeling was well founded. He’d been letting work—and Vivian—distract him.

He hadn’t known his daughter was hurt, that she was engaged. And he absolutely hated that she thought she needed to wait until hockey wasn’t weighing on him before sharing one of the happiest moments of her life. As if a couple of losses mattered more than her.

Although…wasn’t that exactly what he’d taught her to expect?

His stomach lurched.

Without another glance toward the office, Dean quietly pushed away from the wall and walked back to the elevators. His lunch with McKenna would have to wait. He didn’t want to impose on her time with Ellie, even though he knew both women would insist that he join them.

He closed his office door behind him—something he rarely did—hoping that would keep people out.

Lowering himself in his chair, he sat there, staring at nothing. The scouting reports were exactly where he’d left them and the game film was still waiting to be viewed.

For once, none of that felt important.

All he could think about was the daughter he’d promised himself he’d do better for. So much for that. He leaned back, tilting his head upward, studying the ceiling as his thoughts rushed from one thing to the next.

Since he was taking himself on one hell of a guilt trip, he filled up the tank and kept on driving as he considered his brief phone call with Vivian this morning. She’d tried to sound upbeat but exhaustion had frayed the edges. Apparently, Pip had a fever, stuffy nose, and a cough that had kept them both awake most of the night. She’d had to cancel lunch, and while he completely understood, he’d been disappointed.

His first instinct after they hung up had been to blow off work and grab his keys. But he’d shut that down hard. It wasn’t like he could just arrive at her house whenever he wanted. Pip didn’t know there was anything between him and her mom, so he couldn’t go barging in with chicken noodle soup and children’s Tylenol without confusing the little girl.

Besides, he had a meeting with the GM this afternoon. One that he couldn’t miss.

Dean rubbed his forehead wearily. Couldn’t miss…or wouldn’t?

Ugh.

He was full of the could I/would I questions today. And while it was annoying, he understood that the answers mattered. If he and Vivian were really together—no secret relationship—would he have rescheduled the meeting so he could spend the day making tea, taking Pip’s temperature, and convincing Vivian to get a couple hours of sleep?

Of course, he would.

The answer flashed fast—but there was another voice in the background, casting doubt.

It was easy to imagine himself being the kind of man who put his family first. Easy to say the words, but harder to do when the thing on the other side wasn’t hypothetical. The meeting was an important one, especially in light of those last two losses. His answers to the GM’s questions, as well as his game plan going forward, could quite possibly impact his continued work with the organization.

The old Dean had believed that providing for Ellie and McKenna was him being helpful, that it was enough. He’d been wrong.

He tried to put all of this aside because, right now, the point was moot. He and Vivian weren’t a couple. Hell, he wasn’t even sure all their sneaking around could be called dating. Vivian had put a limit on this thing between them right from the outset, determined to protect Pip. That alone told him that, despite all his soul-searching, there was a good chance the answers he was seeking didn’t matter.

Maybe he and Vivian were never going to be anything more than friends with benefits. They’d certainly been building a pretty solid friendship…mingled with incredible sex.

Dean groaned, hating every bit of that description. Even if it was accurate.

“Put it all away,” he murmured to himself. He needed to mentally prepare for his coming meeting, and stressing out about Vivian and McKenna wasn’t helping his fucking headspace right now.

He’d just opened his notes on his computer, determined to concentrate on the task at hand, when his office door flew open and Victor stormed in. He slammed the door behind him as he stomped over to Dean’s desk.

Leaning forward, Victor pressed his fists to the flat surface. “Are you fucking sleeping with my sister?” he barked.

Dean froze—just long enough that Victor’s angry eyes grew even darker.

His hesitation was damning, so Dean scrambled for a stall. “What?”