Page 44 of One Pucking Life

“Hey!” Max calls as he steps into the foyer.

“We’re in the kitchen,” I call back.

He walks in with reusable bags looped around each wrist, his cheeks pink from the cold. “There are my girls,” he says, flashing a smile that’s almost too beautiful to look at. His eyes soften with real affection as he bends to press a kiss on Caroline’s cheek.

The way he dotes on his daughter—and the casual way he just claimed me, even if unintentionally—does something wild to my insides. Okay, maybe he didn’t officially claim me… but it’s close enough to make my stomach flutter.

“Okay, I have returned from the battlefield,” he announces, holding up the bags like a trophy. “And I come bearing spoils.”

“Battlefield?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Close to,” he scoffs. “A million people were there. Maybe it was payday for everyone on the weekend before they were all hosting holiday parties. I don’t know, but it took major grit getting down some of those aisles. Plus, your list had me looking in places I never knew existed in the store before.

“Do you know there is a whole section of gluten-free cookies across from the gallons of water? I’m talking like dozens of brands I’ve never seen before.”

“We’re not gluten-free, and there weren’t any gluten-free cookies on my list.” I press my lips together in a smile.

“I know.” He grins, setting the bags on the counter. “I got lost looking for the fresh dill.”

“Fresh dill is in the refrigerator section, not in the aisles by the bottled water.” I chuckle.

“I know.” He waves his hand in front of him. “Did I mention all the people? Total maze. Long story. All I’m saying is I wentthrough some stuff to get the items on your list.” His smile nearly melts me.

I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, well… speaking of my list. Did you get everything on it?”

He hesitates. “Define everything.”

I groan, causing him to laugh.

“In my defense”—he takes a step toward the counter and begins to unload the bags—“who knew that ‘the yogurt in the green cup with the white lid’ is apparently the unicorn of yogurts? I swear I walked the same dairy aisle five times. I asked a guy stocking milk if he knew where it was, and he just blinked at me like I was speaking Latin.”

“It’s literally the only brand we’ve used all month.”

“Yes, well, clearly, it evaporated from existence. So I got this one instead.” He holds up a container that is most definitely not the same.

I eye it suspiciously. “That’s mixed berry, and it’s diet, which means it has artificial sugars. She’s six months old. She needs full-fat plain Greek yogurt.”

He winces. “Oh. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be right. Okay. Rookie move. I’ll eat that one.” He sets it aside like it personally offended him and moves on. “I did, however, find the exact brand of the baby wipes, thank you very much. And—bonus—I got you the good oat milk you like. It was a complete guess, but I remembered the fancy script font on the carton.”

“Nice save,” I say, crossing my arms and biting back a smile.

He grins. “Oh, and they were out of dill, or at least, I never found it. So instead...” He reaches into the last bag and triumphantly holds up a small plastic container. “Dill pickle hummus. Totally counts.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s not even remotely the same thing.”

“Sure it is. It has dill. And it’s... tangy?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you.”

Caroline kicks from her seat in the highchair, squealing and slamming her palms against the tray. Max turns to her immediately.

“Hey, Care Bear,” he says, his voice softening. He crosses to her, brushing a kiss on her forehead and then her cheek. She grabs his finger in her tiny hand and brings it to her drooly mouth. He doesn’t even flinch.

“What’s up, huh? Did you miss me? Probably not. You’ve got Laney here taking care of you like a champ.”

“Of course she misses you. You’re her only dad, after all.”

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