“Sorry, no, I have to pick up my daughter, and I’m already behind.”
“Go get your girl. I’ll rope Rowe into helping. Hey, Peachy!” He bellowed as he went off to find Austin. Smiling at the antics that took place here, I rushed through my shower, skipping the razor, and jumped into my rental. While I missed my Porsche, it turned out to have been serendipitous that I’d sold it. I was a family man now. Which meant I’d need a family-type car. Maybe one of those SUVs with the screens in the back of the front seats. I bet Sophie would like that. Grinning like a fool, my head filled with ideas for my next car purchase, I pulled up in front of the hotel that was housing my newfound kin. I dashed into the lobby and into the nearest elevator.
As I rode up, I contemplated the changes that had taken place in my life. There had been so many, all rather large, and yet here I was, going on three months sober. My daughter and… the doors opened to let an older couple in. I smiled and smashed myself against the wall as the man and woman continued their conversation about boating. So exactly what was Isaac to me? Not exactly my brother-in-law because I’d not married his sister. He was simply my daughter’s loving uncle and caretaker. And he was adorable to boot.
When I rapped on the door, he opened it and his expression was not adorable.
“You’re late,” he informed me. I nodded sadly. Seemed Isaac was not a fan of being tardy.
“I’m sorry. I should have texted. I’m really garbage about contacting people. I’m not used to answering to others and I just forget.” He didn’t appear to be much swayed. “The owner had some reporter come in for an ice-side interview that didn’t go well.”
“I understand,” he said, but I wasn’t sure that I was that easily forgiven. “We’re ready to go. Just let me grab our bags.”
“Ring for the porter,” I said, stepping into the luxury suite just as Sophie looked up from a coloring book. She gave me a timid smile that made my belly feel as if there were a flock of butterflies trying to burst free.
“Oh, I’m not sure if we need to bother him.” I sat down next to Sophie as Isaac began hoisting bags to his shoulders.
“It’s his job,” I replied, then asked my daughter what she was coloring.
“A cow,” she informed me as she continued to fill in the entire page with a blue crayon.
“I love blue cows,” I said, which got me another smile. “Are you ready to move in with me? I have a new room painted just for you!”
“I ready!” She threw down the crayon and climbed into my arms. I cradled her close, inhaling the sweet scent of baby shampoo on her hair. She weighed less than nothing. “You have a pokey face.” She patted my scruffy cheeks, and I laughed at her candor.
I dropped a kiss to her warm brow as my gaze met Isaac’s. It was impossible to guess what he was thinking, but not what he was feeling. I could see worry and apprehension in his gaze. Which I fully understood. He didn’t know me at all, and yet, he had put all his trust in me. I would not let him or my baby girl down. He didn’t have to worry about that.
“I’ll take care of her,” I whispered, and he nodded, but the concern lingered in his blue eyes. Perhaps it would take more than a weak promise from an ex-drunk to convince him, and rightfully so. I’d go above and beyond to show him that I could be the father Sophie needed and deserved. Once we had the medical issues behind us, our lives would be sunshine and applesauce, as my grandmother used to say. Sophie would grow up to be big and strong and incredibly smart. Isaac could return to the life he had before he’d been called into being a caregiver for my daughter. Hell, perhaps he could stay here in Boston. Maybe we could explore this spark of attraction between us. The world was full of glorious possibilities now that Sophie was part of my existence.
Chapter Seven
Isaac
He was holding Sophie, and I hated it.
Fear burned in my gut because this huge, rough hockey player with all his issues picked up my daughter… niece… as if he had every right to do that. Which he did. Which made me miserable, angry, contented, hopeful, angsty, and fuck knows what else, all at the same time. Not to mention he’d been late for whatever ridiculous reason he’d tried to hand me, which I couldn’t come to terms with because my life with Sophie was regimented to the minute, and I’d been disappointed when he hadn’t arrived the very second that I’d been ready for him. Hell, he should be running on my and Sophie’s schedule, not the other way around. We were packed. Sophie was coloring in a comic book I’d created for her, and I’d made sure that all my defenses were in place, settled into how I was going to handle him showing up. Then he hadn’t arrived, and I’d had too much time to worry about all the things that could go wrong with what we were doing. I wavered between staying and going, and I even unpacked my case once, only to shove everything back in when I realized I was being dumb. But there were all these questions in my head.
He was holding Sophie, and I loved it.
Seeing Sophie cradled in his arms, knowing he was saving her life, was the most heroic image I’d ever seen, something that would inspire any superhero, and my artist’s eye wanted to capture him in bold strokes that portrayed his strength, and his confusion, but also his determination to do what was right.
I followed him to the elevator, the case I was tugging caught on the door, and I held out a hand to stop him from helping me because I was perfectly capable of carrying all this stuff in one go.
“We should have called someone to help us with the cases,” he chided softly, and I glared at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring down at Sophie with such a look of wonder in his expression that I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Sophie deserved this quiet moment where everything was okay. When the doors shut, she tipped her head and stared at Joachim and then over to me with a wide smile. She must be feeling good, rested after getting a couple of hours sleep. I envied that Joachim was seeing her at her absolute best, when she wasn’t in pain, when her belly wasn’t bloated, and when her eyes weren’t screwed up in tears. I’d seen good times, but I’d been present for so many bad moments. That must be why I was feeling possessive until guilt flooded me because I shouldn’t be thinking negatively about Sophie being well. His hazel eyes brimmed with something akin to awe, and he didn’t say anything until we left by a back door, walking to the car, which he’d parked a short stroll from the hotel. He’d taken one of the cases from me, hefting it as if it weighed nothing, and I followed on behind, sure that he could carry all three in one hand, plus Sophie, plus the burden of everything that had changed for him.
Competent. Capable. Strong. Determined. Fighting his demons.
Sexy.
Sexy?
That was not what I should be focusing on, but I couldn’t help it because my uneasy thoughts made me desperate for something else to latch onto. Not to mention I’d filled the time while waiting for him this morning, irritated, checking out Google articles that would tell me he was a waste of space whom I shouldn’t trust.
Yes, there’d been stories of rehab, Instagram meltdowns, arguments at his old team, but a lot of what was posted was balanced by how he played. Whatever the demons, he was clearly good at his job. A career I knew very little about, only that it was hockey, and he was a defenseman. Pundits said that for all his issues, he was a good player, as if that excused the drinking and acting out. Too often professional sports had a toxic environment where a player was given too much leeway as long as they performed for the team.