Page 124 of The Pucking Arrangement

Erin’s eyes widen, then her face flames.

“Papa is up too!” Ris exclaims. “And he makes the best pancakes. You should come help, Erin.”

“I’ll go change first,” Erin mumbles, frazzled.

“But you’re wearing Papa’s shirt,” Ris points out. “That’s good for cooking.”

I absolutely do not laugh at Erin’s face.

“Give us five minutes, Amnushka. Go pick out your clothes.”

The second Ris bounces out, Erin flops back onto the mattress, dragging a pillow over her face. “Oh my God.”

“Could be worse,” I muse, nuzzling her neck. “She could have come in last night. I forgot to lock the door.”

“Dmitri!”

“What? I’m just finding the silver lining?—”

“We should talk and sort this out,” she cuts in.

My entire body goes still.

But before she can continue, Ris’s voice carries from down the hall.

“Babushka’s coming next week! I can’t wait!”

Erin groans like she’s dying and yanks the pillow over her face. “Kill me now.”

As Ris’s steps fade, Erin peeks out from under the pillow, her face matching her hair.

“So,” she says weakly, “Fire Island?”

“Beach house,” I confirm, grinning at her disheveled state. “We go every summer after playoffs. No cars, just sand, houses, bikes, and kids running wild. Ris loves it.”

“And the seagulls?”

“Lots of them. But sadly, they don’t dance.” I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But the nightmares there are terrible. You will need someone to comfort you.”

She grins. “Right. You wish.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,solnyshko.” I graze my lips along her ear, feeling her shiver.

“Papa!” Ris’s voice carries through the door. “Can I wear my skating dress? Also, do octopuses really like figure skating?”

Erin dissolves into silent laughter against my shoulder.

“I should get up.” She sighs. “I promised to take Ris to Kaycee’s this afternoon. You should take it easy and recharge before tomorrow’s game.”

“Stay a little longer.” I tighten my arms around her, not ready to let go. Not ready to face the day. Not ready to think about how badly I want to ruin her all over again.

“PAPA! I CAN’T FIND MY SOCKS!”

“Coming, Amnushka!” I call back, then turn to Erin with a grin. “This is parenthood.”

She throws a pillow at my head, laughing.

We need to talk.

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