Page 108 of Icy Pucking Play

I look at Sophie, who's watching me with those warm brown eyes that see too much. That see me like no one else has.

"What do you think?" I ask her. "Want to come back? For real?"

"I don't know..." She pretends to consider. "The Ice Man can be pretty grumpy..."

"Hey!"

"And he's a horrible golf instructor..."

"That's just…"

"And he makes really questionable coffee choices..."

"Says the woman who puts vanilla in perfectly good…"

She kisses me mid-sentence.

"Yes," she says softly. "I want to come back. For real."

"Good," Julia announces excitedly. "Because we have some things to discuss."

"We do?" I keep my arm around Sophie, not ready to let go.

"Yes. Like how you're going to make up for being an idiot these past weeks."

"I wasn't…"

"You kind of were," Ryland cuts in. "I mean, you practically bit my head off multiple times at practice."

"One time!"

"I beg to differ. Either way, it still counts. You were a mess."

"Can we focus?" Julia pulls out what appears to be a list. "First item: Sunday dinners are mandatory again."

Sophie grins ear to ear. "Absolutely."

"Yes. Mom's been stress-cooking enough for an army because she hated that you were apart."

Julia consults her list. "Which brings us to item two: no more pushing people away because you're scared."

I shake my head. "I wasn't scared…"

"Please." She fixes me with a look. "You were terrified. Still are, probably."

I glance at Sophie, who's watching me with that patient expression that somehow makes me want to be honest.

"Maybe a little," I admit.

"Progress!" Cynthia calls from the kitchen. "He admits he has feelings!"

"Don't push it," I growl, but there's no real heat in it.

Because how can there be when Sophie's looking at me like that? When my daughter is practically vibrating with happiness? When my family is collectively deciding my emotional well-being is their business?

"Item three," Julia continues. "The feature."

Sophie tenses slightly against me.

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