Page 131 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
I barely have time to brace myself before Mia and Nico come barreling toward me, their little feet pounding against the hardwood floor.
I crouch down, catching them both in my arms as they crash into me.
“Hey, monsters,” I murmur, pressing kisses to their heads. “Did you guys have fun?”
They immediately launch into an overlapping, chaotic recap of their trip - something about a big Ferris wheel, a beach, and a scary bird that tried to steal Mia’s sandwich.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Sounds like an adventure.”
“It was!” Nico exclaims, his eyes wide.
Still grinning, I rise to my feet as I step into the living room.
Mom stands up the moment she sees me, arms open.
“Blake,” she says, pulling me into a warm hug.
“Hey, Mom.”
She squeezes me once before pulling back, giving me a look-over like she’s making sure I’m still intact. "You did good tonight," she whispers.
"Thanks, Mom."
I reach out and ruffle my sister’s hair as I pass by, dodging when she swats at me. I just laugh before my eyes finally land on Whitney, standing a few feet away, waiting patiently, a soft smile on her lips.
My chest tightens.
God, I missed her.
Crossing the room in a few strides, I pull her into my arms, wrapping her up against me.
She melts into me instantly, arms wrapping around my neck as I bury my face against her shoulder, inhaling her scent.
“I missed you so much,” I murmur against her neck.
She exhales, arms tightening around me. “I missed you too.”
I kiss her neck, lingering, then find her lips. The kiss is soft but deep, the kind that makes the world fade for a second.
“Ahem.”
My mom’s voice makes us pull apart slightly, though I keep Whitney close.
“Get a room, you two,” she teases. “Don’t spoil my innocent grandkids.”
I chuckle, glancing at the twins, who are too busy playing with their stuffed animals to care.
Looking back at my mom, I say, “Mum, we’re going out. Please watch the kids. We’ll be back soon.”
Whitney huffs, glancing at her clothes. "At least let me change first."
I shake my head, smirking. “You look beautiful,” lacing our fingers together as we head for the door.
We end up at Milo’s Ice Cream Bar, a small spot downtown that stays open late. It’s quiet now, just a few people sitting at tables under the string lights outside.
We order - chocolate for me, vanilla with caramel drizzle for Whitney - and sit at one of the tables.
She smiles at me. “Congratulations, again. You were incredible tonight.”
