Page 3 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

Mia shakes her head, arms crossed. “No, you can’t. You don’t even know how to skate.”

Nico gasps. “Yes, I do!”

“Do not.”

“Do too!”

“All right, all right,” I laugh, setting them back down. “We’ll see about that. Now, where’s my…”

Mia suddenly tilts her head, eyes scanning the room. “Wait…, where’s Nana?”

I gasp loudly, smacking my forehead in exaggerated horror. “Oh no…, I forgot Nana at the airport.” I drag a hand down my face, shaking my head.

They gasp in unison, eyes practically bulging out of their little heads.

“No!” Nico shouts, gripping my shirt like I’ve just committed an unforgivable crime. “Daddy, why?”

I swear, this kid is highly dramatic when he wants to be.

“I was in such a hurry to see my two favorite humans that I…,” I say, voice full of regret, “I got in the car and drove off without her.”

Mia’s hands fly to her mouth. Nico looks two seconds away from a meltdown. Nico places his hands on his hips, looking way too serious for a four-year-old. "Daddy. That is not good."

Mia claps a hand, eyes still round. "What do we do? Dadda, you have to go back! Nana is old.”

“No need,” I hold up a finger, “I can fix it.”

Their gazes snap to me. "How?"

I lower my voice like I’m about to reveal a huge secret. "I’ll perform a magic trick. I can make Nana appear right here in front of you."

Nico squints, skeptical. "You’re lying, Daddy. You are a hockey player, not a magician."

I place a hand over my heart. "Huh! I can be both. Watch."

Nico’s eyes sparkle with excitement. "What do we do?"

"But," I say, holding up a finger, "I need your help. First, I need each of you to give me a special magic word. A really good one."

Nico claps his hands, thinking hard. “Um…, Abracadabra spaghetti!”

Mia rolls her eyes. “No, Nico. That’s not magic.”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s not!”

“All right, all right,” I laugh. “It’s great Nico. What’s your magic word, Mia?”

She tilts her head, tapping her chin. “Hmm… Poofity poof nana come back.”

I smirk. "Solid choices. Now, close your eyes. No peeking!"

“Why?” they ask in unison.

I stroke my chin, pretending to think. “Hmm…, because sometimes, magicians like to surprise their audience, and you love it when you get surprises, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Magic gets shy, and if you peek, it will run away and won’t work, and then Nana will be stuck at the airport all week…, and we won’t be able to bring her back. We don’t want that, do we?”

He watches as their eyes widen in horror at the thought, their little faces full of concern.

“No, Daddy!”

“Exactly,” I nod, giving a dramatic pause. “So, no peeking, or Nana stays in the airport, and you’ll have to wait for her to come back with all her gifts."

That does the trick. Both kids quickly squeeze their eyes shut, their little hands covering their faces tightly.

I motion for Mom, who’s been trying - and failing - to stifle her laughter, to quietly step inside. Then, taking a deep breath, I wave my hands dramatically over their heads.

“AbrACADAbrA SPAGHETTI!”

“POOFITY POOF NANA COME BACK.”

I added my own. "LENNOX-LAMBOOZLE!"

I throw my arms in the air. "Nana, appear !"

"Okay, open your eyes!"

They open their eyes and gasp loudly when they see her.

"NANA!" They shriek, running straight into her arms.

"It’s really her!" Nico cries. "Daddy, you really are a magician!"

I smirk, crossing my arms. "Told you."

Mom laughs, kissing their heads. "Oh, I missed my munchkins so much! And guess what? I brought so many gifts for you."

Their little faces light up like Christmas morning.

But as Nico rushes off, Mia suddenly turns back to me. She lifts her arms. "Dadda, up!"

I scoop her up, settling her on my hip.

She leans in, whispers, "Dadda, I know that Nana was outside. I saw her dress and bag behind the wall."

I blink, caught.

"But…," she continues, grinning, "good job. I won’t tell Nico."

I raise a brow. "Oh, you’re keeping my secret?"

She nods solemnly, pressing a tiny finger to her lips. "Shhh."

I mimic her, touching my lips with a grin. "Our little secret."

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Dadda.”

"Go get your gifts before Nico swipes them all!" I tell her, setting her down.

Her eyes widened in horror. "Nicooo!" She screams, then takes off running toward the living room.

I chuckle, shaking my head, as I follow her, and lean against the wall, watching them with a grin.

Mom comes over and nudges me. “You’re doing a great job with them, you know.”

I glance at her. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah. What single dad would raise their kids to be as good as this?”

Sighing, I rub my hand through my hair, “But they don’t relate well with kids their age, even most adults. They are so anti-social and it worries me.”

Mom squeezes my arm. “Blake, honey, they’re only four. Some kids are social butterflies right out of the gate, and others take their time.”

I exhale, running a hand down my face. “Yeah, but what if they never outgrow it? What if they always keep to themselves?”

She gives me a knowing look. “And what if they’re just waiting for the right people to come along? You know, not everyone needs a big crowd to feel comfortable. Some kids take a little longer to find their people.”

I let that sink in, my eyes drifting to Mia and Nico as they excitedly rummage through their new gifts.

“You were the same way, you know,” she adds. “Quiet, picky about who you let in…, until hockey.”

I huff out a laugh. "Yeah. I barely spoke to anyone outside of you, Dad, and Coach."

"Exactly," she says. "And look at you now - star goalie, handling media like it’s second nature." She squeezes my arm. "Again, some kids just take their time. And even if they stay a little reserved, that’s not a bad thing. Maybe they just haven’t found their ‘hockey’ yet!”

That makes me pause. “I just want them to be happy, mom.”

“They are happy, Blake.” She gestures toward them. “Look at them. They have a dad who loves them more than anything. And they have each other.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah…, they do.”

Mom pats my arm. "You’re good with them, Blake."

I glance at the hallway where they disappeared, a warmth settling in my chest. "They’re my world, Mom. I just don’t want them to struggle, you know? Especially feeling the absence of a mother."

She squeezes my arm gently. "They won’t. You’re raising them with love, patience, and a good dose of magic tricks. They’ll be just fine. Just keep being their dad, Blake.”

But as I stand there, watching my kids squeal with excitement over their gifts. These kids—they’ve got me wrapped around their tiny fingers, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Suddenly, my mind drifts for just a moment.

Back to the airport.

Back to Whitney.