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All eyes are on him as he opens it. Immediately, a smile grows wide on his face.
“Am I going to Arizona?”
He turns the letter toward me, grinning wildly. “You’re going to Arizona State!”
“Good, now you two can stop sneaking into each other’s rooms!” Darcy states happily, coming around to my side.
Both Tristan and I snap our heads up, staring at the little girl like she’s grown a second head.
We didn’t feel we were ready to tell the kids about us just yet. About our relationship. We didn’t want to confuse them, or make anything awkward.
Yeah, awkward. You know, kind of like finding out that we haven’t done a very good job of pulling the wool over his daughter’s eyes.
Tristan’s grinning from ear to ear, and he pulls me out of my chair, swinging me in the air. I feel the heat of his body on me, and it fortifies me, making me no longer afraid of anything.
Ferguson’s sitting in his chair, obviously confused at his sister’s comment, but then he starts clapping. Maybe he doesn’t exactly know why, but he will. We can tell him, just as soon as we’re done celebrating and laughing and enjoying this moment.
They’re my ready-made family, and Tristan is the man I’m going to love for life. Not because I have to, but simply because I want to.
“I love you, Faith Wilson.”
I stand on my tiptoes, giving him a peck on the lips, which is followed swiftly by Darcy’s and Ferguson’s collective, “Ew!”
I laugh, unable to take my eyes off the man in front of me. “I love you more.”
And I do, with all my heart. I love his children just as much.
There was a spark that ignited that love within me the first time I met them at the concession stand. Now, we have the rest of our lives to let it burn.
Unexpected Daddy: A Bad Boy Hockey Romance
Prologue
Craig
The morning begins just like every other morning has before it for the past year and a half. Being a twenty-one-year-old college student on a hockey scholarship allows me to lead a life that consists of the same things on a regular basis—hockey, parties, a bit of studying, and a lot of women.
Okay, so the long line of women might be a relatively new development for me—since my long-term girlfriend, Ella, dumped for me unknown reasons about four months ago—but they’ve become my favorite kind of distraction from what’s missing in my life.
Which just happens to be her.
But I’m almost finished my final year of college, and if my hockey career doesn’t take off right away, at least I will have a diploma in my hand, with the chance to earn my automotive technician licensing.
That’s the thing—not only am I a damn good stick handler, I’m also damn good with my hands, too.
Just ask the pretty blonde woman in my bed. She’s still passed out from the night before, and normally I still would be as well if it wasn’t for the dull headache starting to pulse in my head. I slip out of bed and pull my jeans on, finding them crumpled in a pile on the floor.
Wow, by the looks of things, she and I must have been pulling our clothes off from the moment we got in the door. My t-shirt is on the floor just inside the doorway, and her bra is slung over the chair by my desk on the other side of the room. Other articles of clothing are strewn haphazardly between those two points.
This dorm room must have been barely big enough to contain our lust last night.
It’s too bad I can’t remember it. Or her name, for that matter.
I know I should probably be ashamed of myself, but that would involve feeling something. Something other than the betrayal and pain from Ella’s departure. I can’t even call it a breakup because there was no breakup, just a note saying she was sorry and that this wasn’t how she wanted things to be.
Well, that makes two of us.
By then, she had already been to my dorm room and grabbed the few things she’d kept here for the nights she spent with me off and on throughout the school week, leaving the dorm key I’d given her on my nightstand and placing the note in the middle of my bed.
