Page 104 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector
When we step back outside, the sunlight is slanting lower across the lot.
Jenna loops her arm through mine. “Okay, boss lady. You’ve earned a drink. No arguments.”
I start to protest about emails, lists, and everything still left to do.
But she cuts me off with a look.
A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. “Fine. One drink.”
“And if your hot hockey player calls, you’d better put him on speaker.”
I shake my head, laughing as we head to our cars.
Even in the middle of all this chaos, she still knows how to pull me back to center. We linger over one quick drink, and then I head home.
By the time I get back, the sun is already dipping behind the trees.
I set my bag down by the stairs. Miss Taylor looks up from the oven as I step into the kitchen. “Did I miss anything?”
“Just a lot of pre-game predictions.” She tilts her head toward the living room where Noah’s voice carries. “Noah has decided it’ll be five to two tonight.”
“I like the confidence.”
Miss Taylor chuckles, pulling a dish out of the oven.
I round the corner just in time for Noah to spot me.
“Ava!” he calls. “Come watch with us!”
Liam pats the cushion between them.
I glance at the clock. The game’s not far from puck drop now. I make my way over, sinking onto the couch between them as Miss Taylor brings plates to the coffee table.
“Snack dinner tonight,” she says with a wink.
There’s cut fruit, mini sandwiches, popcorn, and the boys’ favorite: pretzels with cheese.
Noah tugs my sleeve. “Do you think Daddy’s gonna win?”
I smile, ruffling his hair. “I think he’s going to play his heart out.”
Miss Taylor hands the popcorn to Noah and lowers her voice as she sits. “You know he’s going to come out flying tonight.”
“Like a dragon,” Noah says proudly.
When the puck drops, we lean in close to the screen. Every time Jackson gets the puck, Noah shouts “Go Daddy!” at the TV like he can hear him.
By the end of the first period, the SteelClaws are up 1–0. The boys are radiating with energy.
“All right, time for bed,” Miss Taylor says gently, standing.
Noah slumps dramatically. “But Daddy’s winning!”
Miss Taylor gives him a look. “You can watch the highlights tomorrow after school, all right?”
Liam sighs but hops down, blanket trailing. Noah groans in exaggerated protest but follows Miss Taylor.
The house quiets again, leaving me with the glow of the TV and that familiar ache of missing Jackson.
