Page 39 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

Shane

H aving Leighton’s and Luna’s family head back to Jersey is a damn relief.

No use pretending otherwise. I might’ve deserved to pop Wyatt that night, but it sure as hell didn’t earn me any points.

Tension hung in the air like smoke after a house fire.

Still, we made it through their visit without anyone else throwing punches, which I’ll count as progress.

But I’ve been carrying this quiet worry around like a stone in my pocket.

That maybe, no matter how much time passed, Leighton would always see me as the guy who snapped.

A loaded gun. Even if I was defending what’s mine, who’s mine, she might only remember the explosion, not the reason behind it.

I’ve apologized a hundred different ways, but it wasn’t until that night at the pizzeria that something shifted.

She let me in, and since then, she hasn’t stopped.

It’s subtle, but it’s real. The way her eyes meet mine and don’t flinch. The way her voice softens when she says my name. The trust is coming back. And that’s the slate I care about. That’s the one I need clean.

Over the next month, the five of us fall into this strange, beautiful rhythm. Mostly at David’s place. Still platonic… for now. No midnight sneaking, no stolen kisses. But the air between us? It crackles.

Touches that linger a little too long. Fingertips that graze down my back when she passes. Her laugh echoing down the hallway. The way she watches me read to Luna at night, like she’s memorizing the shape of the moment. Like she sees it too—this thing between us, still simmering under the surface.

The tension is brutal. Addictive. I feel it every time she’s near me.

Then one morning, after a long, brutal practice, we round the same corner at the same time. I run right into her, knocking her off balance. My gear crashes to the floor, but I don’t care. My arms catch her automatically, one around her waist, the other locking around her wrist.

She gasps. Her palm flies up to my shoulder, holding on. Her chest is pressed against mine, and I can feel her heartbeat pounding as hard as mine. Her breath shudders. I dip my head, breathing her in, a warm, sweet scent, and whisper into the crook of her neck, low and rough:

“I miss you. ”

No one’s around. Just us. Her grip tightens around me. She doesn’t say it, but I feel it in the way she clings to me. She misses me too.

And then, footsteps.

We pull apart like guilty teenagers, breathless. I bend to grab my gear again, muttering a curse and adjusting my jock strap because, yeah, my dick was way ahead of my brain.

Time. Patience. I keep telling myself that.

Because she’ll be mine again. Ours. And when she is, we’ll show her exactly who she belongs to.

Every inch.

Every breath.

Every fucking night.

The season presses on—games, road trips, the same old grind.

But it’s different now. I still pour everything I’ve got out on the ice, but my tunnel vision?

That’s cracked wide open. There’s more to play for now.

More to come home to. Leighton. Luna. Us.

Suddenly, every minute I’m not on the ice, all I want is to spend it with them.

And Leighton’s still up in that booth calling games, laser-focused and sharp as ever, that voice of hers threading straight through me, turning my blood electric every damn time.

We scrape into the playoffs by the skin of our teeth.

And to celebrate? We ask Ava to keep Luna for a few hours so we can enjoy a rare, grown-up night out.

The swankiest steakhouse in Denver, tucked out on the heated patio under string lights and soft jazz, drinks flowing, the city glittering around us.

We’re laughing, relaxed for once, talking wins, summer plans… and whatever might come after.

“You know,” David says, leaning back with a lazy grin, swirling his wine glass like he owns the place. “Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you and Luna just moved in with me. Shane’s basically already there 24/7. And Andy isn’t too far behind.”

Leighton laughs softly, her eyes focused on her wine glass, fingers slowly, deliberately tracing the rim of her glass. “Well, Luna would have her own room. And obviously a playroom.”

She pauses just long enough to let that hang there, then her eyes slide, calculated and playful, from me to David to Andy, a spark flaring bright. “But what about me?” she teases, voice silk and sin. “Who’s going to keep me warm at night?”

Fuck.

Every nerve in my body snaps tight. My cock twitches, hard and fast, like it’s been starving for those words, and the sight of her, looking so goddamn gorgeous in that green silk dress that hugs her in all the right places, doesn’t help.

But we’re in public, and I force myself to shift in my seat slowly, controlled, like I’m not dying inside.

It’s been weeks. Weeks since I’ve had her. Since any of us have. And it’s a special kind of torture.

Andy’s the first to break, that low, cocky chuckle rolling out of him. “Well now, darlin’. We’ve got a few ideas. ”

David’s smirk is all heat and confidence. “Or we don’t make you choose. Bigger bed, simple math.”

Leighton raises one perfectly arched brow, amused as hell, now drumming her fingers on the table.

“Oh, is that right? And how long would it take to get this bigger bed made?” Her gaze rakes over each of us, lazy and lethal, and then she licks her lips—slow, deliberate, a fucking invitation.

“Because, you see… I have a few things in mind. And some of them don’t require a bed. ”

David’s eyes gleam, his voice smooth as glass. “Sounds like the real dessert’s waiting at home.”

Andy grins widely, tipping his glass in her direction. “Now, I do recall warning you before. But let me remind you…that naughty little mouth of yours is flirting with danger.”

Leighton’s tracing a finger along her collarbone now, the blush crawling deliciously down her chest, and her voice, barely a whisper, hits me like a punch: “Good. Just how I like it, Daddy.”

Jesus Christ.

David whistles low. “That’s the sweetest yes to a proposal I’ve ever heard.”

I shoot a hand in the air, grinning like an idiot. “Check, please. No need to waste any more time here.”

Andy snorts, nearly choking on his drink, and David just shakes his head, looking thoroughly entertained. But Leighton? She keeps her eyes locked on mine, steady and burning, and damn if I don’t feel it everywhere.

The bill comes fast, but my brain’s fried, my body useless. I try to focus long enough to sign, but who the hell knows what I tipped? Pretty sure I threw a comma in the wrong place and handed the waitress half my bank account. Worth it.

Because I’ve got one thing on my mind: Pick Luna up. Put her to bed.

And give Leighton a night she’ll never forget.

This is my family now. Messy, a little wild, completely unexpected. But real, and worth every second of the fight.