Page 78 of In Too Deep

“Did the team know?” Turning my body to face him fully, my heart flutters.

“That he and I met two best friends and fell in love with them? Eventually,” he replies with a noncommittal shrug.

“Was he still working for the equipment team?” I push, trying to extract the answer I want out of him.

Dad nods. “He’d worked his way up to assistant EQM by that time. Though he didn’t stick around for long after it all came out.”

My stomach drops to my knees, and my blood runs cold. “Did... did the Red Wings make him leave? Because he was involved with a player?” I ask tentatively.

Dad looks down at me and does a double take, his brow furrowing immediately in concern. “No, he left because Connie was pregnant with Mark, and he didn’t want to travel. What are you getting at with this, Tori?”

My eyes suddenly burning, a lump clogs my throat. I try to turn away, but Dad reaches out and takes my shoulders in his hands, forcing me to look at him. I’m a terrible liar on the best days, but I’ve never, in my whole life, been able to lie directly to my dad’s face.

“I, uh, I just wanted to... I guess I wanted to know...how you dealt with it? Being in a pack as a player.” I fumble over my words under the crystal-blue paternal stare.

“Are you joining a pack? With who?” he fires back, a little protective edge forming on the edges of his questions.

I swallow and look down at my feet for a moment before I turn my head toward the ice. Spencer, Oli, and Eli are advancing in a line against Evgeny and Grigori, practicing one of their signature pass sequences before Eli snipes a goal over Gabriel’s shoulder. When I look back at my dad, I expect to see him scowling or glaring or something at the boys, showing his disgust and disapproval over the situation.

But to my eternal shock and delight, I find him smiling at me, a twinkle in his eye.

“Just like your mother, picking the best skaters this town has ever seen to bring home,” he teases, pulling me into a side hug.

I let out a startled bark of laughter before I smother the sound with my hand. Spencer looks around for a moment as he skates toward center ice, but Dad and I are hidden in the shadows. My shoulders relax and I step out of Dad’s embrace to meet his gaze.

“You don’t... You think it’s a good idea?” I ask hesitantly.

Dad smiles. “Of course, I support you, Chip. Ever since we found out you were an omega, I knew it was only a matter of time before you found your alphas. Your career means so much to you, so I was worried you wouldn’t find someone who could understand. But those boys do, and since you work with them, you won’t have to be apart from them too often. Which is better than your mother and I ever had it, let me tell you.”

Dad rambles on for another few moments, but I’m still in awe over his instant approval. He’s not telling me to abandon my career to settle down, or telling me how it’s a bad idea to get involved with hockey players. If anything, he seems... excited for me.

“What about upper management? What if they tell me that I can’t be around them anymore, or if they fire me for having an inappropriate workplace relationship?” I interject when Dad pauses to take a breath.

He stops and looks at me seriously, eyes flicking around my features for a moment before he answers. Then he lets out a sigh, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks and shaking his head.

“They might, Chip. I won’t lie to you about that. But you’ve done so much good work for this team, and they’d be crazy to let you go. Hell, I can think of a dozen teams who would kill to have someone like you, my own network included,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity.

Looking around, I swallow hard. Objectively, I know he’s right. I have six, almost seven years of experience, with a skill list longer than my arm. But I love the Mystic, and the idea of leaving them, voluntarily or otherwise, breaks my heart.

Dad’s hand comes down on my shoulder, pulling my attention back to his face.

“You deserve to be happy, Tori. Don’t get caught up in what might be. You’ll land on your feet, one way or another. You are your father’s daughter, after all,” he says, winking at me with a wide smirk.

We share a laugh before watching the rest of practice in comfortable silence. A weight slides off my shoulders as I let his words sink in. And once we part ways for the afternoon, I am certain of what my future holds for the first time in a long time.

I spent my childhoodattending Mardi Gras parades all over the New Orleans area, from Metairie to Slidell and even a few on the West Bank and out in Chalmette. But never once in my life have I had the privilege of riding on a float in one of them.

That is, until today.

Everyone is up at the crack of dawn, loading up Oli’s car with coolers and boxes, the last thing laid carefully on top are the garment bags for the ball tonight. We’ll be able to get ready in a special area of the convention center, which is better than trying to fight our way through traffic to get back to the house.

“We’ve got the water? The throws? The sunscreen?” Tori calls out, reading off her phone.

“It’s all in here, princess. I double checked,” Oli replies with a patronizing sigh.

Tori looks up and glares at him. “How about your dress shoes?” she snipes.

I smother a snort of laughter as he pauses mid-retort before turning on his heel and sprinting back up the stairs from the garage. She turns to look at me expectantly, and I give her a warm smile before sauntering over to her. I take her hips in my hands and pull her close, heart skipping a beat when she doesn’t flinch or pull back from my touch like she used to. I kiss her forehead, and I can feel the shiver run down her spine.

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