Page 18 of Blue Lines and Lullabies

“So you do admit it! Do you need a confidence boost, Mr. Big Time Hockey Man?” Have we gotten closer together? What the hell is happening right now?

“God dammit!” he yells before yanking me toward him and covering my lips with his. Gabe turns and pushes me against the wall, his hands finding my ass and lifting me. My legs automatically wrap around his waist as his tongue forces its way into my mouth. He groans into me as I slide my hands up into his hair, my nails scratching harshly along his neck and scalp. I probably have ridiculous morning breath, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

As Gabe’s hand begins to slide toward my center, a piercing cry breaks through my hazy mind, and I become cognizant of what just happened. Breaking off the kiss, I dislodge my legs and drop to the ground, pushing him away from me. I reach up and touch my lips, swollen and hot from his kiss, and I wonder if they look like Gabe’s. His gaze is hazy as he roughly runs one hand through his hair.

“I need to leave,” he grits out.

“Okay,” I stammer, then rush past him into his room to collect Mackenzie. I hear Gabe stomp down the stairs before opening and slamming the front door. Going to the window, I see him stand in the driveway for a moment, his hands clenched tightly into fists before he walks back to the door. I giggle quietly as I hear him shuffle through the house and out into the garage. Looking down at Mackenzie, I notice she’s staring intently at me. “Your daddy is kinda nuts.”

When she coos at me, I decide she agrees.

The morning goes remarkably well. Since it’s my first time fully alone in the house with Mackenzie, I somehow expected she would have difficulty with the transition. I’m pretty sure a three-week-old baby is mostly only aware of eating, sleeping, and pooping. After a rousing tummy time resulted in some impressive explosive vomiting, I gave Mackenzie a bath. Then, I set her down for her late morning nap. When she kept fussing and couldn’t seem to get fully settled, I pulled the bassinet up against Gabe’s’ bed and decided to rest my head until she settled. Surrounded by the aroma of Gabe’s cologne, I relaxed and fell asleep.

When I wake up, I know something is different. I’m hot. And I feel like my body is heavy. Opening one eye, I find Mackenzie still peacefully sleeping, so I decide to quietly leave the room to do some laundry. But I can’t seem to get up.

I hear a sigh behind me, and an arm tightens around my midsection. It’s then that I realize Gabe is wrapped around me. I must stiffen because Gabe murmurs, “Just sleep, Cass. Don’t overthink it. I need this.”

He needs what exactly? Sleep? Me? A body,anybody, to hold onto? Thankfully, Mackenzie stirs, and I have an excuse to get up. “Let me take Kenzie out so you can rest.”

Gabe sighs again and reluctantly removes his arm from around my waist.

Grabbing Kenzie, I nuzzle against her cheek and whisper, “Let’s give Daddy space for his nap time, pretty girl.”

“Like that,” Gabe mutters.

“What?”

“You calling her pretty girl. And you calling me Daddy.”

Oh.

I stumble out of his bedroom without a response.

Mackenzie and I settle into a pattern of sorts. Now that Gabe is fully back with the team, I can relax into caring for her, and ignoring the growing tension between Gabe and me. We’ve never spoken about the kiss, or the spooning during a nap, but every time I’m in a room with Gabe, I feel a heat forcefully pressing down on me. It’s oppressive with how it tries to push me toward him.

The night before Gabe is scheduled to leave for his last extended road trip of the regular season, it all comes to a head. Gabe is packing his suitcase in the living room as Mackenzie is asleep in her bassinet in his room. The monitor on the end table gives us a bird’s-eye view of the bassinet, and Gabe looks at it every couple of minutes.

“I expect hourly updates, and at least two FaceTimes per day, Cassie.”

“I already told you I’d do all of that,” I say warily. Gabe is so keyed up that I’m ready for him to leave so he can get over this major hurdle.

“You understand it’s not that I will be checking up on your ability to care for my daughter?”

“Yes, Gabe.”

He sighs angrily as he slams a handful of shirts into his suitcase. “I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate unless I know she’s okay.”

“I know.”

He looks up at me, his eyes a storm of emotions. “She became my whole world in one short month.”

“I know, Gabe. I’ll update you as often as possible, and send you lots of pictures.”

“Just don’t send anything the hour before the puck drops. It might throw me off.”

For fuck’s sake. “Then turn off your damn phone. You’ll be gallivanting around the country, through multiple time zones, and I’m not gonna do math to try and figure out if it’s within an hour of your game or not.”

“It’s not that hard. Just look up the start time and find the time zone,” Gabe mutters, his eyes narrowing. His lips might be pursed in annoyance, but his eyes keep darting to look at my mouth. Oh yes.

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