Page 22 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

Leighton

W ell, that didn’t go quite as planned. But at least now they know who I am. The first step’s done.

The next one? That’s the real bombshell.

Before I can even start to figure out how I’m going to tell them about Luna, my focus shifts to the news. I’m scared—for the rookies involved in that pileup, for anyone else caught in it. The second the guys left, I pulled up local coverage, and the footage isn’t easy to watch.

“Interstate 70 traffic is at a complete standstill in the westbound lanes due to a massive seventy-car pileup, caused by two separate jackknifed semi-trucks,” a reporter in a bright yellow rain jacket says, nearly shouting over the storm.

“Emergency crews are on site, but at this time, it’s unclear how many injuries there are.

No fatalities have been reported. We’ll continue to bring you updates here on Local 8. ”

Once I finish drafting a few statements with Wilson for release from the stadium, I gather my things to head home. But just as I’m pulling out, I spot Eric getting into his truck and roll down my window.

“Hey, Eric. I’m on my way to pick up Luna. Any update on the pileup?”

He glances over, face tense. “Hey, Leigh. No, nothing yet. A few of the guys headed that way, but with that kind of traffic? I don’t know how they’ll get through.”

“They’ll probably have to get police escorts or something.”

“Yeah, could be,” he says. “If I hear anything, I’ll text. You do the same?”

“Of course. See you at your place,” I say with a wave, and head out.

By the time I get to Ava’s and the guys’ house, the scent of garlic and fresh tomato sauce hits me the second I step inside. My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten all day, nerves and adrenaline winning out. But now? I can’t wait to crash whatever dinner they’re having.

As soon as I open the door, I see Ava standing at the bottom of the stairs, smiling widely at Lu-Lu. “We’ve got a surprise for you, don’t we, Luna-girl?”

Luna grins, nodding, then hands Ava her sippy cup like it’s a delicate treasure.

“Hi, baby! What are you gonna show Momma?” I clap, wide-eyed with excitement .

Instead of climbing or asking for help like usual, she turns and walks up the stairs. One foot at a time. Steady. All on her own.

“Oh my god, Lu-Lu!” I rush after her, scoop her into my arms, and kiss her cheeks over and over until she’s giggling so hard she hiccups.

Tears sting my eyes. Not just from pride, but from the fear curling in my chest. What if the guys don’t want her? What if I’m the only one who sees what a miracle she is?

“You’re going to grow up too fast for me,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her tighter, memorizing the feel of her small frame.

But just as quickly, she squirms, eager to be back on her feet, and I let her go. It’s starting already. The slow slip from needing me every second.

“Thanks, Ava. Maybe next she’ll be bouncing a ball or swinging a mini hockey stick down the street,” I joke, wiping at my eyes and laughing lightly.

“You better believe Levi and Eric have been all over that with Trevor,” Ava says with a smirk. “I can see Luna tagging along. Sven, though. He’s been so mellow lately. All he cares about is that everyone’s happy and healthy. Whatever path they go down, he’s good with it.”

“That’s a nice change of pace.” I pause. “Oh, speaking of Eric, he should be right behind me. I saw him in the parking lot. ”

“You staying for dinner?” Ava asks, already knowing the answer. “Sven’s making his famous spaghetti.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” I grin, giving Ava a playful bump on the shoulder.

Once the kids are fed and off to their little corner of playtime, I finally tell Ava and the guys what happened today. That at least the guys know who I am now, but they still don’t know the part that really matters.

They don’t know about Luna.

God, I don’t know how much longer I can carry this. It’s getting heavier by the minute. Especially after today, being around Shane, looking at him closely, really studying his face…

That’s when it hit me. He has those slate-gray eyes. That rare, stormy kind of gray you don’t see every day.

Just like my little girl. His little girl.

And suddenly, I start spiraling, thinking about the pileup, the chaos, the timing of it all. Was it a sign? A warning from the universe? Some kind of cosmic signal telling me to hold off, or worse, to stay silent?

No. That’s ridiculous. That’s just my anxiety doing what it does best: taking up space and making me doubt everything.

Ava and the guys tell me to trust my gut. They remind me I’m not alone, that if this goes sideways, they’ve got my back. And I love them for that. I really do.

So I gather my things, scoop up Lu-Lu, and head home .

But the minute we walk in the door, she’s fussy, more than usual. Nothing’s wrong exactly, but she fights sleep with every tiny ounce of her being. It takes over an hour to get her down. By the time I do, I’m so drained I could cry.

I consider pouring myself a glass of wine… maybe a bottle. But my days of getting sloshed to cope are behind me. Instead, I run a hot bath, toss in some bath salts, and set the baby monitor on the vanity. She finally stays asleep. Thank god.

As the water climbs around me and the bubbles soften everything, my body and my thoughts, I let my eyes drift closed. And for once, instead of dreading what might happen next, I let myself imagine the best-case scenario.

The guys fall in love with Luna the second they see her.

Shane just knows. David and Andy step in without hesitation.

We fall into a soft, messy version of “friends with benefits,” where all three of them offer to babysit just because they want more time with her. They dote. They protect. They love.

By the end of it, I’m smiling to myself. My limbs are heavy, warm, weightless.

But it’s all just a dream. A wish I haven’t dared say out loud.

And as soon as I crawl into bed, that little fantasy shatters under the weight of every what-if. My brain doesn’t deliver more daydreams. No, it hits me with the opposite, on loop.

All the ways this could go wrong.

I’m walking the halls of Ball Arena, Luna cradled in my arms. At first, everything looks normal, until it doesn’t. The lights dim. The air turns cold and damp, and the walls twist into something darker, like I’m in a cave in the mountains instead of a corridor.

Still, I reach the press room door.

“Come in, Leighton,” David’s voice calls, low and flat.

Inside, the three of them stand at the podium like they’re giving a press conference. No crowd. No cameras. Just the three men, hands on their hips, faces like stone.

“Guys… this is Luna. She’s our daughter.”

Andy’s eyes harden as he scoffs. “Pfft. Another shake-down for money, if you ask me. You don’t belong here.”

Luna buries her face in my shoulder and starts crying.

“She’s yours,” I insist. “Isn’t she beautiful? And so sweet.”

“No,” Shane snaps. “She’s not mine. Why would you lie like that?”

David steps forward, his voice booming. “Get that thing out of here. You’re done. We’re done. Don’t come back.”

They start laughing. Not with humor, but something colder, crueler. Sinister.

Luna screams. I try to move—want to run—but I can’t. I’m frozen, drowning in their voices, their rejection.

I wake up choking back imaginary tears from my nightmare, drenched in sweat, my pajamas clinging to my skin. My legs swing out of bed before I can think, and I rush toward the crib, her cries still echoing in my ears .

But as I half-stumble across the room, I stop short. She’s not crying. She’s sound asleep, peaceful, untouched by the nightmare I just lived through.

I slump forward, bracing myself on the edge of the crib, clutching the white-painted rails with trembling hands. My breath is shallow, ragged. The images from that dream, those cold, angry faces, their voices laced with hate, won’t leave me. I know it’s not real, but it sure as hell felt real.

I don’t sleep another minute. Since I’m already up, I check for updates on the I-70 pileup. No fatalities reported. Miraculously, the lanes were cleared within a few hours. But there’s still no word on Strisik or Panabaker. I hope they’re okay.

When Luna starts to stir, those soft little coos I love so much, I scoop her up and hold her for a minute. As I trace the curve of her cheek, soft as velvet, I wonder how anyone could look at her and not fall in love.

Everyone who’s ever met her says the same thing: she’s cute, sweet, silly, and endlessly lovable. I hope the guys see that too.

***

The stadium is buzzing this morning, probably with talk about the pileup.

I could track down David, Andy, or Shane.

Ask how the players are doing. But I don’t.

I can’t. Because every time I picture their faces, all I see is the dream, twisted with disgust, voices sharp and cruel.

The memory clings to me like smoke, curling through my thoughts no matter how hard I try to shake it off.

Even if their real reaction wouldn’t be that extreme, rejection is still on the table. And I’ve worked too damn hard to shield Luna from anything that might break her. I won’t let this be the thing that does.

At least my family, my dad and my brother, loved her from the start. Even before I had it all figured out. Even when I didn’t have answers.

Wyatt, for all his overprotective-cop energy, adores her.

Sure, when I told him I was pregnant, he nearly blew a fuse and swore he’d gun down the bastard responsible.

I wasn’t exactly on his favorites list either.

He can be judgy as hell. Guess that comes with the badge.

But once he cooled off, he turned into the best damn uncle a girl could ask for.

Never, not once, did Wyatt look at us the way those three did in my dream.

To stop myself from spiraling further, I knock once and step into Cecille’s office. “Morning. So, any updates on Strisik or Panabaker?”