Page 97 of The Secret Play

“And now, for the story everyone is talking about this morning,” the anchor said, a bright smile plastered on her face.

The screen cut to footage from the arena, showing the team skating into the heart formation at center ice. Winnie’s tiny figure appeared in the spotlight, holding the bouquet of flowers. Then it shifted to me, down on one knee beside Gemma, as the crowd erupted in cheers.

My stomach sank. Was my hair really that gray all over?

“While the Atlanta Fire clinched a crucial playoff victory last night,” the anchor continued, “it’s what happened off the ice that’s stealing headlines. Head Coach Casey McConnell proposed to journalist Gemma Grimaldi in a heartwarming moment that had the entire arena—and now the nation—cheering.”

The screen shifted again, this time to Gemma’s article about our relationship. The headline was overlaid with a banner readingLove, Fire, and Ice.

My jaw dropped. “It got picked up nationally?”

“Apparently,” Gemma said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“And it’s not just the proposal,” the anchor went on. “Grimaldi’s article about her journey with McConnell and their daughter has been gaining traction across major outlets, with many calling it one of the most touching sports-related human interest stories of the year.”

The screen filled with footage of the Kiss Cam moment again, and I groaned softly, running a hand over my face.

“This is surreal,” Gemma muttered.

Nico leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I mean, it’s kind of romantic. For an old guy like you.”

“Watch it,” I said, throwing my spoon at him.

To no one’s surprise, he caught it.

Winnie appeared in the doorway, holding the massive bowl of cereal with both hands. Milk sloshed precariously close to the edge, but she somehow managed to make it to the table without spilling.

“What do you have there, kiddo?” Megan asked.

“It’s my breakfast,” she announced proudly.

Nico chuckled, scooting over to make room. “You sure about that? Might be enough breakfast for my whole team.”

“I like cereal,” Winnie stubbornly declared.

We joined them at the table, Gemma still shaking her head at the absurdity of that bowl. “Winnie, that’s too much, even for you.”

“Hockey guys need a lot of food to be big and strong,” Winnie said, grinning.

Gemma’s sharp gaze fell on Nico. He defensively said, “She wanted to know why I needed a whole bag of microwave popcorn last night, but she and Megan split one.”

“You ate microwave popcorn last night?” I asked, half in a gasp. “You know the chemicals in that stuff will affect you on the ice. How many times do I?—”

“Coach, we just won the Cup. I’m allowed to have a bag of popcorn. Do you really think what I did last night is worse than what any of the other players did to themselves at Smokey’s to celebrate?”

I couldn’t help myself. I smirked at Megan. “I don’t know. Was it?”

She turned eight shades of red. “No. We told you. Popcorn, movie, dozed off. Nothing else happened.”

“Sure.”

Maybe she wanted to change the topic. Megan turned to Winnie. “You want to be a hockey guy?”

Her little head bobbed enthusiastically. “I wanna be just like Uncle Nico and Daddy.”

Daddy. That word stole my breath. I teared up—I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know she’d call me that just yet. I’d thought…well, I didn’t have a plan for any of that. I figured I’d roll with whatever she and Gemma decided. If that meant I was Casey to Winnie for the rest of her life, it was fine. I wanted them to be comfortable with me joining their family, whatever that took.

But Daddy, the morning after I proposed? It shook me in the best way possible.

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