Page 13 of Her Hat Trick Daddies
It’s cute. His entire demeanor changes as he talks about his career, those gold flecks in his eyes catching the light. It makes me smile without even thinking. There’s a seductively alluring vibe about him, one that’s hard to ignore. Years of bartending have sharpened my instincts for reading people, and I’m rarely wrong. This guy might be gruff on the surface, but there’s more underneath.
Still, something’s been niggling at me from the back of my mind since he first walked in. Maybe it’s just the unexpected warmth he’s showing—subtle, but disarming. Or maybe… maybe Ihaveseen him somewhere before.
Shit.Has it really been that long since I’ve been with a man? First attractive guy within ten feet of me, and suddenly my hormones are throwing a party and yelling “breed me” from the rooftops.
I let the thought go for now and wrap up the interview, tapping the screen to stop my recording.
“Thanks for your time, David.” I rise, and so does he.
“Happy to make myself available to you, Leighton.” The way he says my name, it’s like a slow caress. And I’d swear there’s more than just warmth in his gaze. A flicker of something flirtatious. Especially when he drops his voice a notch. “We can meet as often as you need.”
When I take his hand again, a jolt of electricity surges between us.
Damn.
Looks like I’ll be carving out more time for him next week.
Chapter 4
Leighton
Italk to David three more times during training camp, and with each conversation, I find myself looking forward to the next just a little more. It’s more than simple curiosity or casual friendliness. There’s a pull between us. Subtle. Persistent. Undeniably charged.
Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe it’s nothing, and I’m just spinning a story out of nothing—dreaming up tension where there isn’t any. What if it’s all one-sided? I’d never dare act on it. Not here. Not now.
But sometimes, just for a second, I catch something in his eyes—an unspoken flicker. A look that makes my pulse stutter and my thoughts spiral. Something thatfeelslike possibility. And if things were different… maybe I’d let myself reach for it.
Still, I keep things strictly professional. Cordial. Respectful. Right up through the end of training camp.
I get a front-row seat to the Avs’ new lineup, and I have to admit, they’re looking strong. Promising, even. My fellowcommentator, Wilson Puleo, and I conduct interviews with various members of the organization, including trainers, players, and coaches.
Outside of that, I make a point to schedule casual lunch meetups with other staff members. Nothing formal—just relaxed conversations, a chance to get to know the people I’ll be working alongside. So far, I’ve spoken to nearly everyone, and one thing’s clear: their heads are in the game. The focus, the drive, the energy, it’s all there.
It feels good to be back in the thick of it: the momentum, the rhythm, the sense of purpose.
As much as I adore my daughter and cherish every moment with her, especially in these fleeting toddler years, there’s something powerful about showing her, firsthand, what independence and ambition look like. I want her to see a woman who goes after what she wants, who builds something of her own, despite the curveballs life might throw at her.
After wrapping up for the day, I drive to Ava’s place—thankfully in my newly delivered leased Camry. It arrived yesterday, and I couldn’t be happier to be done with the chaos of public transportation.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull up and climb out of the car. The moment I see my baby girl, she runs to me and I scoop her into my arms, burying my face in her neck and breathing her in. She smells like baby lotion and sunshine, and lets out a joyful squealas I spin her around, her laughter ringing out like the purest kind of music.
Ava and Sven watch from the doorway, smiling, while little Trevor jumps up and down next to his dad, arms raised for the same treatment. Sven chuckles and lifts him with practiced ease. Then Levi steps behind Ava, hands moving gently over her belly, rubbing slow circles into her growing bump.
For a moment, a quiet ache pulses through me. My life is full with work that inspires me and a daughter who fills every corner of my heart. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the love and warmth of a man: the touch, the presence, the simple sweetness of beingheld.
As if on cue, Eric wraps his arms around Ava from behind and kisses her neck. A cozy moment that only stirs more of my empty feelings.
Just a couple nights ago, during a rare girls’ night out while the guys watched the kids—really just dinner before we both admitted we were too tired for anything more—I opened up to Ava about how I’d been feeling lately.
“How are things going with you?” she asked, concern softening her features.
“Fine,” I said, even though that familiar twinge of jealousy over Ava’s situation with her guys had been nudging at me more than I cared to admit. Not out of spite. Never that. It was more of a quiet longing.
I’ve been trying to settle into the idea that it’s just Luna and me against the world, and maybe that’s how it’ll always be. And most days, I’m okay with that.
“Really?” Ava gave me a look that said she wasn’t buying it, so maybe I wasn’t hiding my real feelings as well as I thought.
“I mean… sometimes I wish I had a man in my life who isn’t related to me,” I admitted. “But it’s not like I can ever track down the three I slept with that night I got pregnant.”
