Page 83 of Pucking Daddy

Lily looks at me for permission. I nod. "Go have fun. I'll come find you."

As Talia leads her away, chattering about which station has the best hot chocolate, I become acutely aware of being left alone in enemy territory.

Not enemy, exactly. But unfamiliar. Exposed.

"Come on." Jaxon's hand brushes my lower back—the same spot from before, the gesture that has become something of a signature. "I'll introduce you to some people."

The next hour is a masterclass in subtle interrogation disguised as friendly conversation.

Wives and girlfriends of players approach with bright smiles and questions that are just pointed enough to feel like tests.

"So you two are dating? How did you meet?"

"Jaxon mentioned you just moved here. Big adjustment?"

"Lily seems attached already. Kids can be such good judges of character."

I answer each one carefully—yes, we met at a bar; yes, huge adjustment; yes, Lily is wonderful. The truth, just not the whole truth.

Jake Morrison's wife reappears halfway through, falling into step beside me as we watch the kids race around the obstacle course. "You're handling this well."

"The questions?"

“The whole thing.” Talia sips her coffee. “This world isn’t easy to navigate. There’s politics, scrutiny… People either crumble under it or turn into someone else.”

“Which one are you?”

She laughs. “I was the former coach’s daughter. Avoided hockey like the plague. Then I met Jake.” She shrugs, a smile tugging at her lips. “Now I love it.”

Her gaze drifts to where Jaxon stands with Jake and a few other players. "He's different with you around. Looser. The guys have noticed."

I don't know what to do with that information, so I file it away and change the subject. "Lily's killing it out there."

"She's got good balance. Must come from somewhere."

We watch as Lily attempts to skate between two cones, wobbles dramatically, and recovers with a triumphant whoop.

My chest aches with something I refuse to name.

After the ice time, everyone migrates to the players' lounge for refreshments.

The space is comfortable—leather couches, a well-stocked snack bar, windows overlooking the empty main rink.

Lily has found a group of other kids and is deeply invested in some game involving toy pucks and imagination.

I settle into a corner with my coffee, content to observe, but Jaxon drops onto the couch beside me.

"You survived."

"Did I pass?"

"With flying colors, according to Talia." He stretches his legs out, and his knee brushes mine. Neither of us moves. "She said you were 'refreshingly genuine.' Her exact words."

"High praise from the queen of hockey wives?"

"She's not—" He catches my smirk and shakes his head. "Yeah, okay. She basically runs the whole WAG infrastructure. If she approves of you, everyone else follows."

I watch Lily across the room, her laughter carrying over the ambient noise. "She's happy here."