Page 55 of The Perfect Snipe

I throw my hands up in the air as everyone chuckles at the show they’re putting on. But Leo places a palm on the small of my back, the warmth of his touch seeping through my sweater and grounding me in the moment. He leans in close to my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “You never know, maybe it’s not me who’ll convince her about the whole assisted living thing.”

“Don’t even start.”

I linger, watching my grandmother who looks so content. Carefree. She’s joking with Roan now, who’s taken a seat on the opposite side of her. My throat tightens at the sight of her so at ease, so alive, so opposite of what the doctor explained to me.

“Looks like we pulled it off.” Leo's deep voice rumbles from behind me as he surveys the room, a hint of pride in his eyes. His hand is still on my back, his thumb tracing small circles that send shivers down my spine.

I nudge him with my elbow. “We make a good team.”

“That we do.” Leo's hand finds mine, his fingers intertwining with mine in a way that feels natural. “Thank you. For all of this. For being here for the kids, for the team . . . for me.”

“You don't have to thank me.”

His lips quirk up into his signature almost-smile. “How ’bout a game of air hockey?”

“Sure.”

“You think you can beat me?” he says, his eyebrows arching with that familiar, teasing look in his eyes as we walk over to the game.

I roll my shoulders back, standing a little taller as I match his pace. “I know that I can beat you.”

“Looks like we’ve got another lovebird competition going on.” Ian smirks as he follows after us. “I’m betting Cat wins.”

My cheeks heat at his words and when my gaze darts to Leo’s, his jaw ticks, his face is also flushed, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

I look over my shoulder, eyes narrowing on Ian. “You better bet on me. No way I’m letting this uptight asshole win.”

The answering growl from the six-foot-five, blond hockey player holding my hand has me smirking. “You and that damn mouth of yours, Hellcat. Call me an asshole again and we’ll have to correct your language.”

Heat pools low in my stomach, my pussy clenching at the possible promise of his words. I lean in closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Bring it on, Daddy.”

He stops short, eyes wide as he stares at me.

I let go of his hand and keep walking, flipping my hair over my shoulder with a smirk. Never been into the whole daddy thing, but I’m not above using a little bit of psychological warfare to win this game.

Yeah, I may be just as bad as Nora.

Leo and I get into position around the table, a crowd now forming around us. He turns on the air and we each pick up a mallet, and I grab the red puck. “Ready to lose, Sparkles. Oh, I know all about that nickname.”

His lip lifts in a snarl, eyes narrowed. But I catch the way the corner of his mouth also tries to pull up into a lopsided smile. “You’re more like a demon cat.”

“Come on, Cat. Kick my dad’s,” Stella turns and looks at her dad, “ass!”

“Stella!” Leo and I say at the same time.

She looks at me, her tiny fists planted on her hips, huffing like a miniature version of her father. “What? You need all the help you can get.”

The puck slides back and forth across the table, the clack against the surface echoing above the cheers and banter.

Leo grumbles after I score for the fifth time, his frustration evident in the way he shoots, sending the puck flying off the table. Again. Roan runs after it, his long strides making quick work of the distance, and gives it to me, winking at his captain.

“Is everyone against me?” Leo huffs.

A collective “Yes” rings out and I can’t help but laugh. So, the event seems to have turned into a bond with Cat and pick on Leo event. Thankfully, Leo is okay with it based off his giant grin.

“Oh. My. God. This chocolate cake is so good!”

I jerk my head toward Stella, who is shoving the biggest piece of cake into her mouth, frosting smeared all over her lips. “Stella! That is supposed to be for later. I can’t believe—”

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