Page 118 of Moms of Mayhem
“Hi,” he said when he pulled back. His forehead rested on mine for a second before standing up. “I missed you.”
I chuckled, pushing him slightly back from me so I could see him better. “I saw you seven hours ago.”
“I know.” Beckett leaned in for one more kiss. “Too long.”
I pointed toward the kitchen. “What’s this about Shannon?”
He looked over his shoulder, smiling at where Shannon and his mom stood together in the kitchen. In hushed tones, he told me about what happened when he dropped her off after Pilates, and how she’d ended up back here. Anger ripped through me at everything her father had said, and that she hadn’t told me how bad it was.
“It all happened kind of fast.” His hand found mine. “But she needs somewhere safe. And Mom needs someone she trusts.”
Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes; a mixture of hurt for everything my friend had been going through, and a new level of adoration for this man I was not prepared for. “Did you steal my employee?”
He grinned, then ducked down to kiss me again. “Nah.Just offered her room, board, a stipend, and a car. She can keep doing her schoolwork and working for you around Mom’s appointments. We’ll work it out.”
“And Lori’s okay with it?”
“Thrilled,” he said. “Honestly? So am I. Mikko and Logan seem to think Frankie’s going to call me back to Denver any day now, so I feel better about leaving, having a plan in place for her.”
I nodded, because that made perfect sense, and it was a perfect solution for everyone. But each mention of our time being nearly up made my chest tight, panic sinking in.
He tugged me back into the chaos in time to see Lori bustling around with the confidence of someone determined to out-stubborn her own diagnosis. Her hands trembled, and one foot dragged slightly as she moved. Despite it all, she was warmth and light as she carried a bowl of popcorn the size of a small child to the coffee table.
“I told them the kitchen closes when the game starts.” Lori set the bowl down with a grin. “But no one listens to me anymore.”
“Wedon’t listen?You’rethe one who tried to make cinnamon rolls earlier,” Beckett muttered as he passed by. “Could have burned down the house. We’re lucky to be alive.”
“I heard that,” Lori called sweetly.
Jace had already claimed one corner of the couch, socked feet propped up like he owned the place. “Come on, Mom. It’s hockey night.”
“Oh, pardon me.” I stepped around Logan’s legs, who was laid across half the rug like he was posing for a beach calendar.
Ty and Mikko were near the TV discussing the paninisthey’d had for lunch, while Shannon slipped into the kitchen behind Lori, like she’d done it a hundred times before.
My friend reappeared and pressed a paper plate into my hands. “There’s pepperoni and supreme left. Go fast—Logan eats like someone’s chasing him.”
“Thanks,” I said, searching Shannon’s face for her feelings on the day’s events.
She nudged me with an elbow. “I’m good, I promise. Better. This is good. A lot, but good.”
I looked around. At my brother, enjoying himself with friends. At Lori, battling a degenerative disease with more grace than I knew possible. At Rowdy, currently stealing pizza off the coffee table. At Jace, wearing the biggest grin as he casually chatted with some of his idols. At Shannon, somehow fitting in among the chaos.
And finally, at Beckett, leaning against the kitchen counter, bottle of root beer in hand, baseball cap turned backward like it had been all afternoon. His eyes were on everyone, quietly observing, checking in without needing to speak.
Every single person in this room was here because of him.
Every piece of this little puzzle fit because of him.
The realization I was in love with him hit me like a punch to the chest.
Not just the man who was kind to my son or who made me feel seen. I loved this version—this messy, beautiful, deeply loyal man who’d made it his personal mission to make everyone around him feel his love, even when his own heart was barely hanging on.
And he was leaving.
I felt the crack of it splinter through me—quiet and sharp and unavoidable. The NHL would call him back at anyminute, and the whole point of this recovery stint had been temporary. Get better, get cleared, and go. That was the deal.
But this wasn’t temporary. Not to me. Not anymore.
