Page 37 of Slap Shot Daddies

Regardless, there's no turning back now; I've committed to seeing this through.

Halting just outside her office door, I release a slow, measured breath. The faint rustling of papers from within sends a tight knot twisting in my stomach.

She's definitely in there.

I rap my knuckles twice against the door.

Silence hangs briefly.

Then, a voice calls from inside the office. “Come in.”

I push the door open, stepping inside with a mix of trepidation and resolve.

Kenzie glances up from her desk, her dark eyes widening slightly with surprise. She appears weary, shadows under her eyes hinting at a restless night. Perhaps she spent the night pondering us, just as I did.

Good.

A grin spreads across my face as I hold up the frame. "I made you something."

Her brows knit together in curiosity. “What is it?”

I advance, placing the frame gently on her desk.

Her gaze drops, eyes scanning the carefully chosen words enshrined behind the glass.

And then…I witness the moment her breath catches in her throat.

Her fingers, trembling slightly, reach out to trace the edge of the frame, and in that instant, I understand with absolute certainty that I've just secured my first victory.

Kenzie doesn’t just smile. She beams.

She lifts the frame, her eyes lingering on the inscribed words, before standing with a sense of purpose and moving to the wall beside her desk.

She pauses for just a heartbeat, contemplating the perfect spot, and then hangs it precisely where it will catch her eye every time she glances up from her work.

"That's perfect," I say, admiring the way it complements the space. "Adds some personality to this vet office."

“Thank you,” she says, her voice soft.

“It was nothing,” I say humbly.

She smiles at me. “Well, I don’t think it was nothing.”

“How are things going?” I ask her.

“Fine,” she says with a sigh. She settles back into her chair, stretching her fingers toward her keyboard with determination.

As soon as she presses a key, her lips compress into a thin line, betraying a flicker of discomfort.

"Hurts, huh?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow in concern.

Kenzie exhales sharply. "A little. It’s fine."

I move around her desk, gently nudging her chair away from the computer with a touch as light as a whisper. "Nah, it’s not. Let me help."

Her head tilts up, eyes narrowing slightly with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "You want to type up my notes for me?"

I tap my temple with a knowing grin. "Don’t let the hockey fool you, sweetheart. I can type.”

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