Page 87
THIRTY-ONE
GAVIN
“Just give me a minute,” I say as I survey Vivi’s car seat and beg my exhausted brain to remember which way the base goes.
“Need help?” Millie stands behind me with my daughter in her arms.
Lake and Ford are behind her, and they’re all waiting for me to figure out how the fuck to make this work.
With all of Millie’s luggage, the Pack ’n’ Play, and the four bags I packed full of her stuff because I had no idea what she’d need, I had to shift the car seat to the other side to make it all fit.
“It snaps here, right?” I glower at it, drenched in sweat and anxious to no longer be the subject of scrutiny. “It’s a children’s item. Shouldn’t it be childproof?” I grumble.
“Lake, will you take Vivi?” Millie says. A second later, there’s a gentle hand on my back. “Can I help?”
Wiping at the sweat forming on my brow, I sigh and back up. She might think it’s a simple task, but it’s complicated as fuck. But if she insists, I’ll just sit back and watch her lose her mind. Maybe then I’ll feel a little better about myself and my ability to raise a child.
All weekend, she’s been stepping in, helping make bottles, rocking Vivi to sleep, attending to her every need before she can even make a sound. Proving with her every move that I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.
But even she can’t?—
“All set.” Millie pops up and brushes her hands off.
All set? Is she ducking kidding me?
“How did you do that?” I hiss.
Ford has given me more than my fair share of looks this weekend. I think he’s giving me grace because he knows I’m stressed, but I’ve barely been more than cordial to Millie since Friday night. He’s likely regretting encouraging me to hire his daughter and move her into my home.
Please reconsider it. I wish I could just tell him why it’s the worst idea he’s ever had.
“Like I’ve told you every time you’ve asked, I used to babysit a lot. Not much has changed.” She reaches for Vivi, but I’m quicker.
“Thank you for having us,” I say to Lake as I settle Vivi against my chest.
When Ford pulls his daughter into his arms, I turn away so I don’t have to watch them together. The less I see Millie behaving like a well-rounded adult, the better. Latching on to my anger is my only form of defense at this point.
“When do you find out the baby’s sex?” Millie asks as Lake envelops her in a hug.
As they pull apart, Lake rests her hands on her stomach and turns to Ford. “This one over here doesn’t want to know.”
“Dad! We need to be able to plan.”
Ford drapes an arm over Lake’s shoulder. “It’s a baby. He or she needs very few things in the beginning. Besides, I’m not a huge fan of pink. Look at Vivi, here. She looks perfect rocking the blue.”
I huff out a laugh. “It’s all from Aiden. If he had it his way, Langfields would only wear blue.”
“I, for one, would love to know what we’re having,” Lake says. “So work on your father.”
Ford drops a kiss to the top of her head. “You know it’s almost impossible for me to say no to you. Don’t add Millie’s puppy dog eyes in. I’ll never survive.”
Millie pouts and bats her lashes. “Please, Daddy?”
Ford groans, and Lake shakes with laughter beneath his arms.
“I’ll call you when he’s set up the appointment,” she says with a wink.
I’m struck stupid by the easy way they’ve interacted this weekend. What happened between December and now to facilitate such a monumental change?
When Millie turns to get in the car, she bumps into me because I’m frozen in place, staring like an idiot as I try to figure out what her endgame is.
“Gonna get in the car, Coach?” That nickname in her sexy lilt is the kick in the gut I need.
I nod another goodbye to Ford, and with my resolve strengthened, I place my hands at ten and two on the wheel and drive the fuck away.
Ten seconds down the road, the chatter starts. “How do you like living in the hockey building?”
“Fine.”
One-word answers. I can do this.
“Did you move in there before or after you stole Vivi?”
I shoot her a quick scowl before I focus on the road again. In my periphery, she’s beaming.
“Before.”
“Should I call you Coach, or should I go with something more appropriate?” She taps on her plump lips.
Fuck, even with my eyes on the road, I can’t help but fixate on her every move. “Oh, I know, baby daddy?”
“No.”
“Are you going to give me more than one-word answers?”
“No.”
“Fine, then Vivi and I will just have to do all the talking, right, bestie?” She spins in her seat and smiles at Vivi’s reflection in the mirror installed above the baby seat so I can keep an eye on her in my rearview mirror.
As soon as Vivi spots Millie, she smiles.
Fuck my life.
“How about we order dinner from that Italian place in Chelsea you love?” Millie asks, settling back in her seat.
“No.”
“Chinese?”
“No.”
“Fine, we’ll do the Thai place, but only if you order extra Pad Thai. You always eat the peanuts off mine, and that’s my favorite part.”
“Ms. Hall, we will not be eating together. We are not friends. You are here to take care of my daughter. That’s it. I have to leave for the arena by seven a.m. most days. Normally Vivi comes with me, but I’ve been told wearing my daughter while coaching grown men on the ice isn’t the most responsible thing, so I’m trusting you to take care of her until I get home. Then you’ll be relieved of your duties, and you can go hang out with friends or your brother. Really anyone but me .”
I merge onto the highway, white-knuckling the steering wheel as my heart beats out of my chest and refusing to look in her direction.
“It’s been four months, Gavin,” she says softly, lifting her hand like she might settle it on my arm, or maybe my leg.
I shift closer to the door. I can’t let her touch me.
“Exactly. Four months since you told me you didn’t want kids. Since you told me you couldn’t do this. I’m a father now. The only parent that little girl has. She’s my only thought. My only concern. If you can get on board with that—if she can become your priority, rather than a pawn in whatever twisted game you’ve come up with—then fine.” I swallow back the rage that’s threatening to bubble over and grit my teeth. “I can tell she likes you, and since I want to give her everything, I can deal with having you around. But that’s as far as this goes. Can you handle that?”
I keep my focus on the road. As long as I don’t look at her, I can do this.
“You used to like me, you know? I was once your favorite person.” The words are laced with a desperate sadness that claws at me, leaving me raw.
I don’t dare say another word, and I don’t look at her.
Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh. Her voice is stronger when she replies. “I can handle it.”
I’m not sure whether the heaviness that settles in my chest is a permanent thing now, or if this is as close to relief as I’ll ever get when it comes to her.
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