Wow.
I knew he was good, knew his body was big and strong and powerful. But I didn’t expect the grace as he skates around for warmups, the speed with which he handles the puck.
And it’s not even game time yet.
“Daddy!” Chloe shouts. “Daddy!”
As though he can hear her voice among the cacophony of the others shouting, his head lifts, eyes shooting in our direction. More than twenty thousand people are here and yet…
He’s looking at Chloe.
Atme.
He smiles and heat blooms in my belly, gathers between my thighs so rapidly I have to lock my knees so I don’t melt to the concrete in front of me.
Holy freaking hell.
The man is even hotter in his hockey getup.
“Hi, Daddy!” Chloe shouts.
He grins, touches his right ear in that adorable secret signal they came up with, then waves.
And I find myself waving back.
Find myself absorbing the impact of the wink he tosses my way.
Then he’s gone back to warming up and it’s not much later that the game starts and?—
What a game it is.
The speed, the skill. The hits that send the glass rocking and the crowd gasping. The goals that the Eagles rack up…and the ones that the Hawks score back.
It’s a total nail-biter, and by the time the third period is over and the Eagles have snuck out a win, my throat hurts from yelling and Chloe isamped.
We go downstairs to say goodnight, and though I have my visitor’s badge out, ready to show anyone who needs to see it as we weave through the halls, it proves to be unnecessary.
Everyone knows Rhodes’s daughter.
“Chloe!” Chrissy calls, sweeping her up into a hug.
A man who looks familiar stands behind her, dressed in a suit that screams expensive and seemingly not caring that Chrissy’s daughter, Mia is drooling on his shoulder.
Chrissy smiles at me. “Finn. Have you met my dad?”
Jean-Michel—Jean-MichelfreakingDubois—introduces himself and suddenly I’m shaking hands with the billionaire owner of the Eagles.
“N-nice to meet you,” I stutter.
He smiles and it’s gentle, the kind of expression that immediately puts people—and me—at ease. “I hear you’ve been volunteering for Chrissy’s rescue.”
“Just a few times a month,” I say.
He chuckles. “I’m sure Chloe—and Olive and Pear—are keeping you busy.”
We talk for a few more minutes and then little Mia decides it’s time to eat, so Chrissy sweeps her out of her dad’s arms and takes her down the hall to her office so she can feed her. And not long after that, Jean-Michel disappears to do billionaire owner things.
But Chloe and I aren’t alone.
