Page 87 of Hockey Nanny

Dawson

I clutched the adoption papers on the lounger, sun warming my shoulders, eyes sweeping over the pool. Henry shrieked with glee as Boone tossed him through the water again. For a long moment I just sat there, stunned by how lucky I’d gotten, how easy it all felt when the people who mattered most were right here, alive, and laughing around me.

Carissa appeared at the edge of the pool, freshly showered, hair damp and gleaming, skin glowing in the sunlight. She looked at me like she could read every thought I’d been trying to bury. “Come on,” she said, her voice soft but firm, teasing. “Pizza’s ready. Celebration pizza.”

Henry’s head popped out of the water, eyes wide, and he called up at me with the kind of unfiltered joy only a kid could pull off. “Dad! Pizza!”

He scrambled out of the pool, water dripping from his hair, Boone and Gage on his heels, all of them laughing and chasing each other toward the house. That one word—Dad—hit me in the chest and refused to let go.

Carissa didn’t hesitate. She settled onto the lounger, straddling my hips lightly, her hands cupping my face. One thumb brushed beneath my eye, then the other, and she kissed me first over one eye, then the other. Her mouth found mine next, and everything else fell away.

Her lips were warm, soft, and insistent, but it wasn’t just the physicality, it was the way she knew me, all the pieces I’d tried to hide from everyone. All the parts I thought were broken. I let my hands settle on her hips, feeling the press of her body against mine, the steady weight that grounded me in the middle of this chaotic, beautiful life we’d built.

I kissed her back with everything I hadn’t dared to give before. My lips moved over hers, slower at first, savoring the sensation of her breath mingling with mine, the quiet, electric tug of familiarity and trust. I could feel the heat radiating off her, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat pressed against my chest. I plunged my tongue into her mouth, not urgently, but with a sort of reverence.

She pressed closer, arms sliding around my neck. This was one of my favorite parts. When it was just us. Her reminding me how hard I’d fought to dismantle my carefully constructed defenses, and what that meant for us. Her fingers threaded through my hair, holding me like she wouldn’t let go. Except for a pizza party. Henry’s voice filtered through to us, and I knew our time was growing short.

I pulled back just slightly to look at her, tracing the curve of her jaw with my thumb, the tiny smile playing on her lips.

“Carissa,” I breathed, voice rough with everything I hadn’t said before. “I… I wouldn’t have any of this. None of it. If it weren’t for you.”

She sighed, her body melting against mine. “You’re welcome.”

We laughed like a couple of love-drunk teenagers, sneaking a rare moment alone. And to be honest, that’s what it felt like with her.

I kissed her again, slower this time, letting the words sink in, letting the sensation of being held by her, of having Henry inour lives. Officially our son. This wasn’t just a kiss. This was recognition. Gratitude. Love that had survived every doubt I’d ever had about myself and the future I could have. All the years I’d spent pushing people away had lifted the second I was able to admit to myself that this was mine. And in its place I got something steady, fierce, and unshakable.

When she pulled back, her lips ghosting over mine, she asked, “Ready for some pizza… Dad?”

“Stop, or you’re going to get me going again,” I said, secretly reveling in the lightness that had become my life.

Carissa pushed up from the lounger and held out her hand to me. I didn’t hesitate. My fingers slid into hers, and she tugged me upright, pulling me with her as naturally as if we’d been walking side by side our whole lives. My heart kept time with hers, quickened by her grip, the warm sunlight, and the laughter echoing from the house.

She squeezed my hand, letting me know she was here, and that we were here, together. My chest tightened with the fullness of finally having all the pieces fall into place. I walked with her like that, feeling a thousand feet tall as she led me into the house.

Into ourhome.

32

~

Carissa

The dining room was loud, messy, and perfect. Pizza boxes lay scattered across the table, some half-empty, some barely touched, cheese strings clinging to slices as we passed them around.

Boone had sauce on the tip of his nose and he kept refusing Henry’s attempts to wipe it off, which sent the kid into a fit of giggles. Gage was smirking over the way Henry insisted on dipping his slice in ranch, and Dawson… well, Dawson was carefully wiping his hands on a napkin while trying not to spill anything on the floor, which, let’s be honest, was hopeless.

And in the middle of it all was my dad, sitting at the head of the table like he’d been adopted into this chaos by some strange twist of fate. A twist I thought would never happen when I took the plunge and told him I was dating all three of them. At the same time.

He’d looked a little bewildered at first, but he fell in love with Henry the second he met him. The rest was easy. Now he laughed freely, teasing Boone about the sauce on his face, and giving Gage a hard time.

Dawson loaded a plate with two more slices and held them out to him across the table. “Mr. McCabe. I got you one pepperoni, and one plain cheese.”

“I keep telling you, call me Arthur,” my dad corrected with a smile.

Dawson rolled his eyes, but I caught that tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, the one that said he’d conceded on some level. Boone teased him relentlessly, forgetting how nervous he’d been around my dad for the longest time.

Henry, meanwhile, had been bouncing between laps and chairs, piling cheese on his pizza like a tiny architect building a mozzarella monument. He suddenly stopped mid-bite, set down his slice, and went to climb into my dad’s lap. He gazed up at the old man with that earnest little face that could melt glaciers.