Page 77 of Daddies on Ice
“Shit,” he mutters, reading the screen.
“What is it?”
Carl’s expression grows serious as he turns the phone toward me. “Text from the arena manager. Tonight’s show is sold out, and there are already crowds gathering outside the rink. All wanting to get a look at the woman who was able to steal Jake Sorenson’s heart.”
26
TISH
The bus lurches forward with a mechanical groan that seems to echo the knot in my stomach.
It’s December 17th, and we’re starting off on what I’m afraid will be the most uncomfortable road trip of my life.
The opposing team’s arena is our destination, adding another torturous hour to this already awkward journey.
Every few minutes, my eyes drift up from the stack of Becky’s kindergarten worksheets spread across the small table, only to catch one of them looking at me.
Jake’s emerald eyes hold that familiar teasing glint, but there’s something deeper now, something that makes my cheeks burn when I remember the feel of his hands on my skin just last night.
Ash sits in one of the reclining chairs, his brown eyes intense and unreadable, that protective energy radiating from him like heat from a furnace.
And Carl keeps glancing over from where he’s reviewing game footage, those piercing blue eyes making my pulse quicken every time they meet mine.
The memory of kissing all three of them crashes over me like a tidal wave.
The taste of Jake’s lips, the gentle strength in Ash’s touch, the surprising tenderness in Carl’s kiss, it all feels surreal, like something that happened to someone else.
Someone braver.
Someone who doesn’t spend her nights worrying about making rent and whether her five-year-old daughter is getting enough vegetables.
“Mommy, you’re not helping,” Becky’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. She’s holding up a worksheet covered in addition problems, her dark blue eyes, so much like mine, filled with frustration.
“Sorry, baby.” The endearment comes out rougher than intended, my throat tight with emotion. “Let’s look at this one together.”
The bus hits a pothole, sending our pencils rolling across the table.
Becky giggles, the sound like Christmas bells, and some of the tension in my shoulders ease.
This is what matters. Not the complicated mess brewing between me and three impossibly attractive men, but making sure my daughter feels secure and loved.
“Can I sit with you guys?” Krystal’s small voice draws my attention. Carl’s granddaughter stands in the aisle, clutching a pink backpack decorated with glittery snowflakes. Her red hair catches the light from the bus windows, and there’s something so hopeful in her green eyes that my heart clenches.
“Of course, sweetheart.” The words come naturally, and Becky immediately scoots over to make room. “What kind of homework do you have?”
“Reading and math, just like Becky.” Krystal settles beside us, pulling out a workbook covered in Christmas stickers.
As if summoned by his granddaughter’s voice, Carl appears beside our table.
He’s changed out of his usual coaching attire into dark jeans and a navy sweater that brings out his eyes.
The silver threading through his hair catches the light, and when he smiles down at Krystal, the transformation is breathtaking.
“Mind if I join this study session?” His voice carries that familiar gruff edge, but it’s softer now, gentler.
“Please.” The invitation slips out before rational thought can stop it. Our eyes meet for a heartbeat too long, and the memory of his lips against mine floods back with startling clarity.
Heat creeps up my neck, but Carl simply slides into the seat across from us, his knee brushing mine under the small table.
