Page 146 of Daddies on Ice

“I needed to think. About us, about the baby, about everything.” I step closer, drawn by her warmth. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

She nods, stepping aside to let me pass. The apartment smells like her—vanilla and something uniquely Tish that makes my chest tight with longing.

“I struggled with the pregnancy,” I admit, watching her set the bear on her couch. “With the idea of sharing you, of not knowing if the baby is mine. It went against everything I thought I believed about family, about what’s right.”

Her face falls slightly, and I rush to continue.

“But then I called my parents.” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “They reminded me that love doesn’t always fit intoneat categories. That what matters isn’t what other people think is right, but what makes the people you love happy.”

I step closer, close enough to see the flecks of silver in her dark blue eyes.

“The most important thing in my life is making sure you’re happy and safe. If having Jake, Carl, and me in your life accomplishes that, then I’m all in. Completely, totally, no reservations.”

Her breath catches, and I see hope bloom in her expression.

“I love you, Tish. I love the baby you’re carrying, regardless of whose DNA they have. I love this crazy, unconventional situation we’ve created because it brought us together.”

She reaches up, her palm cupping my cheek, and I lean into her touch like a man starved.

“So what happens now?” I ask, my voice rough with emotion and possibility.

55

TISH

The soft beeping of hospital monitors fills the quiet room as I cradle my newborn son against my chest.

His tiny fingers curl around mine, and I can’t help but marvel at how perfect he is.

After everything we’ve been through, none of that matters now. What matters is this beautiful baby boy and the four incredible men surrounding us.

“He’s perfect, Trisha,” Carl whispers, his voice thick with emotion as he gently strokes Jac’s downy hair.

The silver-haired coach who’s always been so controlled looks completely undone by this tiny human.

Jake leans over from the other side of the bed, his green eyes bright with unshed tears. “Look at those little hands. He’s going to be a hockey player for sure.” His usual playful demeanor is softer now, more tender than I’ve ever seen him.

Ash stands at the foot of the bed, his brown eyes never leaving our son’s face. “Jac,” he says quietly, testing out the name we chose together. “J for Jake, A for Ash, C for Carl. It’s perfect.”

Trent clears his throat from his position by the window. “He looks like a little angel. You did good, Sis. Mom and Dad would be proud.”

I look around at these men—my men—and feel overwhelmed by how blessed I am.

A year ago, I was a struggling single mother who’d just lost her job.

Now I have three devoted partners who love me unconditionally, a brother who’s finally found peace with our situation, and a beautiful baby who will grow up surrounded by so much love.

As they file out of the room, I settle back against the pillows with Jac still sleeping peacefully in my arms. The quiet feels strange after months of chaos, but it’s a good strange. A peaceful strange.

Christmas Day – Jac’s First Christmas

“Jac, look at all these presents!” I coo as we sit in the living room of our new home.

The eight-bedroom house is perfect for our unconventional family, with enough space for everyone to have privacy when needed but plenty of common areas for us to be together.

Jac babbles happily from his bouncy seat, his dark eyes, so much like mine, taking in all the colorful wrapping paper and twinkling Christmas lights.

He’s grown so much and watching him discover the world has been the greatest joy of my life.