Page 43 of Tell Me Lies

“Surprise!” they yell.

They blow on those annoying party favors that make too much noise, but they look too adorable for me to care. That’s really not what has me in pure, happy shock though. It’s that they’re wearing New England Bay Sharks jerseys. And when Maci bends to set Amelia down, I seeSternsacross her back, making my heart pump faster than normal.

When Amelia barrels toward me, I bend and scoop her up. Clyde is right behind her, wiggling around, looking up at us. And of course, fucking drooling.

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” she says, beaming at me. “I love you so much.”

Call me a pussy, but tears cloud my vision because I have a kid old enough to understand it’s my birthday and to actually acknowledge it. It’s just … special.

My teammates would so call me a little bitch right now.

“Thank you, baby.” I kiss her cheek. “I love you too. The most.”

“Daddy, Daddy! Look at the cake we made you.” Her finger points excitedly at a chocolate-frosted cake sitting on the other counter. It has the number twenty-seven in the middle, along with a candle.

I look at Maci. “How’d you know how old I am?” I raise a brow.

“Google, Mr. Logan Sterns,” she says matter-of-factly. “You did an interview a few years ago and said your favorite cake was chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting. I sure hope you weren’t fibbing.”

She went to great lengths to get this day right for me, looking shit up about me on the internet.

I’ve never had a person do that. Granted, I’ve never tried to have it either. But most women come after me simply because of my connection to the lettersNHLor the wordsprofessional athlete. She’s not looking at me like I’m her ticket out of anything or like I could get her famous. She just sees me as an actual human being, and, fucking A, it’s nice.

Pulling myself from that thought, I wink at her. “I love chocolate cake, and I love me some peanut butter frosting. Good job, Boston. This might be my best birthday yet.”

Her cheeks redden as she rounds the corner. “I didn’t know if you’d want family, friends, or teammates here. But we wanted you to have some sort of celebration.” She pauses, shifting around on her feet. “If you want to spend your birthday alone with Amy, I can make myself scarce for the night.”

“Hell—ooo.” I stop myself from being summoned to pay yet another quarter to Amelia’s nearly full jar. “And, no. I’m the birthday boy, and you aren’t allowed to go anywhere,” I tell her, throwing my arm around her shoulders. “Thank you.”

She relaxes, looking at Amelia. “Do you want to give Daddy his presents?”

My daughter wiggles in my arms, and I laugh as I set her down and watch her rush to the table.

“Daddy! Come sit down!” She climbs up into a seat.

I glance at Maci and shrug. “Guess I need to listen to the boss, huh?”

She nods, her lips forming a sarcastic frown. “Um… duh.”

Walking the few steps to the table, I take a seat at the head, and Amelia wastes no time pushing the blue-wrapped gifts toward me. Maci comes beside her, but doesn’t sit; instead, she stands and smiles softly.

Tearing off the gift wrap slowly, I look down at the first picture, and my entire chest grows warm and fluttery. I take in the photo of Amelia and me in that huge, gaudy sleigh at Santa’s Village. Her smile is enormous, and mine is even bigger.

And then I open the next gift; this one is of her sitting on one of the reindeer on the carousel ride. I’m next to her, my arm slung around her back to make sure she doesn’t fall off. Even though she told me ten times I didn’t need to hold on to her because she was a big girl.We both look so content, and then I think about the woman who took the pictures. Control freak or not, she made that entire day even better. Not just for Amelia, but for me too.

I guess I didn’t realize that we had been missing anything until she was around us all the time. And now, I can’t imagine not having her here.

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Thank you, ladies. I love them.” Leaning forward, I kiss Amelia on the forehead. “What do you say? Should we hang them up?”

She nods quickly before stopping. “Cake first, Daddy!”

“Girlfriend, how about dinner first?” Maci giggles, running her hand over Amelia’s hair.

“Fine,” she grumbles, putting her hands on her cheeks and making us both laugh harder. “I’m going to get Fruity and Tooty.”

When she slides from her seat, running toward her room for her stuffed Highland cows, I look at Maci.

“Come here,” I utter, tipping my head up.

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