Page 76 of One Pucking Life

It’s true they haven’t been that involved as grandparents, but I don’t let it bother me. I’m not going to beg anyone to be part of my life—I’ll just appreciate them when they are. They’re staying another day, so we’ll all get to hang out tomorrow. I’m glad they’ll get some quality time with their granddaughter.

Their visit couldn’t have worked out better. They got to see the team win the Stanley Cup and are now staying with Caroline, which means Laney—who I want to be able to celebrate with the team more than anyone—can come out tonight.

“She shouldn’t wake up,” Delaney starts, “but if she does, you can?—”

My mom holds up a hand, cutting her off with a smile. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll be fine. He’s grown now,” she says, motioning to me, “but it feels like just yesterday he was a baby. I remember everything. You two go celebrate. Don’t worry about a thing—it’s all under control.”

“Okay,” Delaney says, though I can tell by the way her body stiffens that she’s still a little worried. She takes such good care of Caroline.

“The guest bedroom’s all made up for you,” I offer.

My mom nods, smiling warmly. “We’ve got everything under control here. Go enjoy your night.”

We say our final goodbyes and head out. As soon as the front door closes behind us, I squeeze her hand. “They’ll be fine.”

“I know. I just worry about her.”

“She’ll probably sleep through the night—it was a busy day. And even if she wakes up, my mom will be okay. I mean, she raised me, and look how great I turned out.”

Delaney laughs. “Well, the verdict’s still out on that one.”

I stop on the front porch. Putting my hands on her hips, I pull her toward me. “Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“Yeah?” She puckers her lips.

I nod, pulling a long strand of her strawberry-blond hair through my fingers. I’ve always loved the color of her hair and the way it complements her face. I still remember the first time I met her—outside that grocery store with Jaden when she thought I was stealing her car. Her hair was tied back in two pigtail buns. A few loose locks framed her face. Her big green eyes pierced me with such intensity that it mesmerized me.

I cradle her face in my hands and slide my thumbs across her cheeks, over the adorable splattering of freckles that reside there. “Yeah. Four is your number.”

“Is it?” she asks with a cheeky grin.

“Absolutely. I don’t think there’s another number that could possibly look any better on you.” I press my lips to hers.

Laney always looks amazing, but tonight—with her tight jeans, high-heeled boots, and my Cranes jersey—she’s breathtakingly beautiful.

“Well, don’t say that,” she exclaims when I pull away. “You could get traded to another team, and some other hottie could already claim the number four. I don’t think you’d like the number as much then.”

“Don’t say such horrible things. I’m never leaving the Cranes. Ever.” I grab her ass and pull her flush with my body. “Got it?”

She chuckles. “Got it. Then I’m number four forever.”

“Damn straight.”

I lean in again, unable to help myself, and kiss her. Slower this time. Deeper. My lips linger on hers like I’m trying to memorize the shape of her mouth, the taste of her. And maybe I am. Because no matter how many times I kiss Delaney Hagan, it never feels like enough.

Her hands slide up my chest, fingertips curling into my shirt. I feel the sigh roll through her before I hear it.

“I could get used to this,” she whispers.

I press my forehead to hers. “You better.”

We stay like that for a long moment—bodies pressed together under the soft porch light, the night air wrapping around us like a warm blanket. The streets are quiet, our neighborhood still, save for the distant hum of the city. It’s like we’re in our own little bubble, time slowed down just for us.

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, letting my hand trail down the side of her neck and over her collarbone. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just drag you back inside right now.”

Her grin turns playful. “What’s stopping you?”

“Technically?” I glance back toward the door. “My parents.”

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