Page 71 of A Major Puck Up

“Now start at the beginning. Where did you find her?” Liv asks.

“I hosted team dinner tonight, so most of the guys were over.”

Beckett nods. He and I talked about this earlier. Taking over mid-season as head coach hasn’t been easy, but I want the guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. That starts with making sure they trust me, and hosting team dinners will hopefully nurture that trust.

“The doorbell rang. I assumed it was another one of the ridiculous packages that Sara set up to be shipped to Seb—” I shake my head. If I never see another pink dildo or flavored underwear, it will be too soon. “Anyway, it wasn’t. It was her.”

Vivi tilts her head back, spits her binky out, and gives me a gummy smile that hits me right in the heart. I can’t help the way my lips tip up in response to her. I’m not sure if a single smile has come to me this easily since I last held Millie. If memory serves me, the last time a smile came to me unbidden, it was as Millie launched herself into my arms at the airport when I picked her up on her last trip home. The trip that ended everything.

“So there was a baby sitting at your door, and you just assumed she’s yours? The fuck is wrong with you?” My brother scowls.

“Nothing is ducking wrong with me,” I correct him, rubbing Vivi’s silky head, soothing her in case Beckett’s tone sets her off again. “She’s mine. There was a note explaining everything.”

Liv eyes me. “What did the note say?”

“That her mother couldn’t do it and that she’s mine. That’s basically it.”

“So if Millie isn’t her mother, then who is?” Beckett asks.

I look down at my daughter as if she could tell us who brought her into this world. “No ducking clue.”

“I don’t get it.” Beckett grits out. “Give me a list of women you’ve slept with. I’ll find the mother.”

“What does it matter? She’s here. She’s mine. I wouldn’t let whoever the woman is near my child again anyway. Not after the way she left her at my freaking door.” Dread swirls in my gut at the what-ifs. “What if I hadn’t been there? Who knows how long she would have sat there alone.”

“Gavin,” Liv says softly. “We need to find her mother.”

“No.”

Liv and my brother share a look, but I’m not interested in their opinions on the matter. Honestly, I haven’t put much thought into who her mother could be. While Millie was in my life, she was all I cared about. And before her? Fuck, I couldn’t tell you the last time I had a one-night stand.

That first night, the connection between us was so strong. I was certain it was the start of something real, and then I found out she was Ford’s daughter and she moved to Paris. For over a year, I did my best to forget her.

Then she came back into my life in June, and she was all that mattered. Until she broke me.

Until I told her I wanted a family, and she told me she wanted to continue hiding our relationship from everyone we knew. At that moment, I thought I’d never have a child. That I was destined to be the fun uncle and nothing more. And now I have Vivi.

I honestly don’t have the answers Beckett and Liv think are so crucial, and I’m not going to concern myself with finding them either. Like me, Vivi was all alone in this world, and now we have each other. As far as I’m concerned, we’re better off without her mother.

“How old is she?” Beckett asks.

I tilt to one side, studying her, then I lift her foot. “I don’t know. Is there, like, a marking that would tell us that?”

Liv chokes out a laugh. “Gavin, she’s not a tree. We can’t count rings or wrinkles.”

I shrug. “Can’t a doctor tell? She needs a birthday. Is there a registry somewhere?”

“Oh my god. He can’t be serious,” she mutters.

I frown at my brother, who is looking back at me, equally thoughtful. “He’s got a point. The vet could determine how old Deogi was, and we didn’t have any paperwork for him.”

“Oh my god. I’m dealing with Dumb and Dumber. Beckett, no. Gavin, think. Who was the last woman you slept with before Millie?” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m even saying those words. If Ford finds out you slept with his daughter?—”

“Focus, Liv,” Beckett says. “Ford won’t find out. But seriously, Gav. You have no idea?”

I sigh. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does if we want to know how old she is.” Liv slaps her knee with a huff. “I can’t do this alone. I’m calling Dylan.” She pops up, deposits June in Beckett’s lap beside her sister, and with a disgusted look at both of us, she strides out of the room.

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