Page 59 of Pucking Forbidden

“Taking care of you is my life,” I say simply. It’s the truth. Hockey is my job. But she and Sylvie are my world. There is no competition. I’ll always put them first.

“I love you,” she whispers before Sylvie starts screaming louder.

“That’s my cue,” I groan, tucking my dick back into my pants. I press another kiss to Sutton’s lips and then stride from the laundry room, stopping long enough to wash my hands before I hurry to Sylvie. Half of her food is on the floor, like usual. And she’s glaring at me like I’m pissing her off. Also, like usual.

“Hey, baby girl. You finished?”

“Up,” she demands, lifting her arms up.

I chuckle, removing the tray from her seat before unbuckling her and scooping her into my arms. She huffs at me, her eyes narrowed, clearly still pissed that we left her alone for ten minutes.

“You want to hang out with your daddy today, baby girl?”

“Mom-mom.”

I chuckle again. Of course, she’s pissed at me. In her eyes, Sutton can do no wrong. If anything in her world is out of order, it’s entirely my fault, never her mama’s. It’s fucking cute.

“Mom-mom is taking a nap.”

Sylvie huffs again before deciding she’s stuck with me. She lays her head against my chest, reaching up to pull on my beard. “Hotey,” she demands.

“You want to watch hockey?”

She nods solemnly.

I smile, brushing my lips across her crown. God, she’s perfect.

I clean her up and then carry her into the living room to find a game. She sits on my lap, her eyes fixed on the television like she understands exactly what’s happening on the screen. Hell, maybe she does. She spends enough time at the arena. She was practically born on the ice.

Ten minutes into the game, she turns to peer up at me. “Daddy. Hotey.”

“Yeah, baby. We’re watching hockey.”

She frowns. “Daddy, hotey.”

My brows furrow as I try to work out what she wants, and then realization dawns. “You want to watch daddy play hockey?”

Her little head bobs in a nod, her brown eyes wide.

“You can watch me play tonight, baby girl,” I promise, unable to deny her anything…just like her mama.

Her little face breaks into a grin, and she nods, seemingly satisfied. She reaches for my hand, curling her fingers around my pinky, and then curls up on my lap again to watch the game.

Half an hour later, she’s out cold.

I don’t move, though. I just sit right there, letting her sleep on me as the game plays on and her mama rests upstairs. The most important people in my life are safe, happy, and healthy. They’re thriving.

This is the dream.

It’s the fairytale.

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