Page 72 of Scores Of The Heart

“Is that what I think it is?”

I bite my lip, nodding.

“Shit, Cindy,” he mutters, glancing over his shoulder. “I could kiss you right now if your dad wasn’t standing right behind me.”

I giggle. “Time for that later,” I assure him. “You were great out there, you really were.”

He grins his head off. He still hasn’t showered and changed, and the mixture of his sweat and adrenaline running off him is really sexy. “Thanks, baby. I loved knowing you were out there.”

“I love watching you.”

He squeezes my hand discreetly and lets it go. “We gotta get out of here soon,” he says. “I need to shower first. I stink.”

I giggle again.

“Are you saying it’s true?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Not at all,” I say sarcastically, but I can’t save myself from laughing.

“I bet you don’t wanna be wearing this jersey right now.” He waves it towards me and I laugh, pushing him away.

That’s when my dad decides to casually walk on up to us and we both stop like we’ve been caught with our hands in the cookie jar.

“Sir, um... Coach,” Tyler quickly amends.

I try to not laugh behind the back of my hand. So much for subtle.

He smacks Ty on the back in congratulations, even though I know they’ve already gone through it in the locker room before they all came out here.

I’ve never seen my dad look so frigging happy and my heart swells.

It’s been a long, hard road for him, starting at junior level and working his way up into the NHL.

I know the move and the divorce weren’t easy, but I’m glad that he’s stuck with his dream and now he can call himself a Stanley Cup champion too.

I’m so proud of him.

I reach up to hug him and he holds me tight as Ty watches on.

“I’m so proud of you, Dad,” I say, getting pretty choked up.

He pulls back to look at me. “Not without both you and your sister’s support could I have done this,” he says. “You remember that, Cinds. I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

It’s the first time he’s ever shown affection like this in public in front of one of his guys. It’s a really touching moment.

“I’d better get that shower,” Ty says, giving me a wink.

Dad beams from ear to ear. “You better, son. You’re really starting to stink!”

I can’t help but laugh as I watch Ty’s retreating back.

“Swiped yourself a jersey I see?” Dad muses, looking down at it, covered by my warm jacket, so he can’t see whose number it is.

My heart pounds in my chest, as it’s not usual for me to be wearing an actual player’s jersey.

“Just something I picked up on the way in,” I say as nonchalantly as possible.

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