Page 131 of Moms of Mayhem
His jaw was clenched tight, fingers curled around the duffel bag strap on his shoulder. His pulse hammering in his neck, just above the collar of his shirt.
He’d heard Ryan. Every smug, dismissive word, and he was just as furious as I was over the way he talked to my kid.
My kid.The words echoed in my head, making my heart race with each repetition.
And just like that, I went from rage to pure, aching adoration. It was whiplash. Heart-splitting, breath-stealing whiplash.
Of course,Beckett was here.
Because when it mattered, he showed up. Not out of obligation or for appearances. Not to criticize or make himself look good. But because he loved us. Because he meant it when he said he wanted to make this work.
Ryan had shown up today because it lined up with hisschedule, and it looked good to have a son playing in the state finals. Nothing was ever really about us, always twisted to how it could make him look best, and only when it was convenient.
But Beckett… Beckett showed updespitethe miles, the pressure, the playoff race waiting for him in Denver. He came because his priorities weren’t cloudy—they were crystal clear. And he’d just claimed my kid as his own.
He dropped his duffel bag on the rubber floor, walked past the players coming off the ice and back to the locker room, and grabbed the railing, hopping up until his face was level with mine.
And for the first time all day, I could breathe again.
“You’re not in Seattle,” I said, barely able to get the words out through the lump in my throat.
Beckett shook his head, eyes alight with that quiet joy that never failed to wreck me. “Nah. I heard there was a team of has-beens about to win the State Championship. Figured this was the place to be.”
My heart flipped, and if we hadn’t been in front of half the state and my seething ex-husband, I might’ve launched myself into his arms right then and there.
“Yourkid?” Ryan snapped, his voice sharp and shrill enough to cut through the noise of the arena. His face had gone crimson, lips pinched like he was holding back a full-blown tantrum. “What, you think you can fuck my wife and suddenly claim my kid now too?”
With perfect timing like the universe had planned it, Jace skated off the ice, eyes scanning the stands as he tugged his helmet off. He froze mid-step when he spotted Beckett, then seemed to take in what Ryan had just said.
Beckett hopped down off the railing and met himat the base of the ramp, calm as ever. He clapped a hand on Jace’s shoulder and gave him that grin that always made my kid stand a little taller. Then he looked back at Ryan, gaze steady, voice low.
“Yeah.Mykid,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How can you not love him? He’s got more heart and hustle than half the NHL, and the mouth of a seasoned locker room vet. He’s sweet to my mom and his. And when life punches him in the gut, he just skates harder.”
Then Beckett’s eyes flicked to me, warm and sure and absolutely devastating.
“And his mom?” He gave a low whistle. “She’s not your wife. You lost the right to call her that a long time ago. So yeah, I’ll claim them both, every chance I get. If they’ll have me.”
Jace’s head snapped toward me, brows raised in surprise. But Beckett didn’t flinch. He turned, meeting Jace’s gaze dead on.
“We were going to wait until this summer to talk to you properly,” he said, voice steady. “But I’m all in, Jace. With her. With you. With this whole messy, wonderful life. I love her, and I think you’re the best damn kid I’ve ever met. I’d be proud to call you my family, if that’s something you’d be okay with.”
Jace blinked. A beat of silence stretched—then my arrogant son shrugged, the barest flicker of a grin tugging at his mouth.
“Dude. You think I didn’t already know?” He jerked his chin toward me. “She hasn’t smiled this much in a decade, and I have access to the doorbell camera, dumbass. You’ve been toast since New Years.”
I let out a laugh-sob that broke straight through mychest, hand flying to my mouth. Every nerve in my body buzzed with love for both of them.
“You can’t just stake claim on my kid,” Ryan said.
Beckett turned back to him, that glacier-calm composure hardening into steel.
“Sure I can,” he said. “His biological dad is a real dick and left the position of ‘decent man worth looking up to’ wide open, so I’m stepping in. Gladly.”
Jace smirked, tilting his head toward Ryan. “Fine by me.”
Ryan sputtered, nearly tripping over his own fury when he pointed a finger at me. “You did this. You turned him against me. This is parental alienation, and it violates our custody agreement. I’m calling my attorneys.”
“Cool.” Jace adjusted his elbow pad. “Can they skate? We could use one more defenseman.”
