Page 56 of Pucks and Likes

“You can’t say that, though. This means telling everyone, and with everyone’s influence?—”

“Elliot,” I say, cutting her off, “trust me.” I’m thankful for the red light as I come to a stop. I set her with a look, and I can see all the insecurities in her eyes. All the guilt and pain she’s inflicted on herself. I wish she’d listen to me. I wish she’d believe me. But all I can do is give her time to realize this is what I want. “Please trust me.”

She swallows once more as her eyes search mine. “I’m not worth all this,” she whispers quietly, and when a frown pulls at her lips, rage burns through me.

I shake my hand in hers, hoping the motion will make her listen to me. “You are. You fucking are, Elliot.” Her lip quivers, and I reach out with my other hand, rubbing her bottom lip. “I love you, mami. I do. So fucking much, and you’re worth it. You are.” I can tell she doesn’t hear me, and I hate that she allows herself to do this. “If Austen said that, or Eliza, how would you react?”

I chose those two of her sisters because they’re softer than Clara and Louisa. Not saying they’re weak or anything, but they are the quieter of the McDavid sisters.

As I expected, anger fills Elliot’s gaze as she shakes her head. “I’d kick their asses.”

I nod. “Exactly. Now stop listening to your brain before I kick its ass.”

As I wanted, she smiles. Even if it is small and only tips her lips a bit, I relish the fact that I brought her joy. “I see what you did there. Smart.”

I grin, leaning in to kiss her nose. “I won’t let you be mean to yourself, not with how much I love you.”

Her eyes glaze over, and I almost feel like she may say it back. That she is finally owning up to the feelings that are like a neon sign in her eyes. She loves me, but the fear of doing so is greater.

Fucking annoying, if you ask me.

A honk comes from behind me, and I flip the guy the bird as I drive off. Yeah, I was distracted, and guess what? Fuck him. I’d rather kiss my girl than drive. Elliot giggles beside me, and I’m obsessed with the sound. It’s better than any goal horn in any arena. Because it’s purely Elliot.

I’m almost to the clinic when she asks, “Have you decided when you’ll tell your mom? Tonight?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m hoping we win tomorrow and shut this series down. Because the Griffins should sweep the Admirals tonight, and then we’ll play them, which will be good since we can go see my mom.”

The Calder Cup isn’t like the Stanley Cup. The first three rounds are best of five games, and then the last two rounds are best of seven. The play-offs are quicker and more intense, in my opinion. I’m excited because if it plays out according to my plans, I’ll be able to take my girl home to meet my mom.

And if I have it my way, it will work out.

Every way I want.

I don’t need to look at her to know she’s gone still on me. “Oh, it slipped my mind that your mom is in Michigan.”

“Yeah. She is planning on moving back home to Texas, but she isn’t sure yet. She loves being by my brothers.”

She nods. “So, we should be seeing her next week.”

“We will see her next week and tell her about our mijito.”

She clears her throat. “You’re not scared?”

“Not even in the slightest. I’m excited.” And I am. But I am also scared my mom might throw her slipper at me for not telling her the moment I knew. I’ll deal with that later.

Her lips fight back a smile as she shakes her head. “Your cockiness is intoxicating.”

I smirk at her. “You love it.”

Her lips twitch. “I do.”

I pull into the clinic and shut off the car. I squeeze her hand once before she lets me go to grab her purse. I get out, coming around to help her out since my car is so low. I pull her up, and she lands on my chest, grinning up at me. “If I get any bigger, I won’t be able to get out,” she says, pulling down her dress.

“Then I’ll lift you,” I promise, kissing the side of her mouth. “Now, come on. I’m ready to know.”

Her laughter is like music as I thread our fingers together and guide her inside. The clinic waiting room is decorated with all kinds of flowers and softness for a comfortable atmosphere for women. It’s too much pink for me, but if I’m about to be a girl dad, I better get ready for it. I walk with her to the reception window, and I can feel her anxiety coming off her in waves.

Before we reach the window, I lean in and kiss her earlobe. Against her ear, I whisper, “I got you, mami, and I don’t care what they think.”

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