“You are an amazing father. We couldn’t be more proud.”
Father.
That reality still seemed to hit him like a fist to the gut, even three years after he’d learned of Lily’s existence. The responsibility that title laid on his shoulders stole his breath and touched everything he did. Would continue to affect every decision he made for the rest of his life. And every time he thought of Lily, he welcomed all of it.
“Well, I had an exceptional role model, didn’t I?”
She chuckled. “I’ll tell him you said that.”
“Do.” He glanced at the bar. “Can I talk to Lily for a minute?”
“Yes, but don’t forget our deal.”
“Oh, Mom, really?” he complained, remembering her unrelenting requests for a sleepover with all the granddaughters, sans Beckett. With this Kim turmoil going on, he had an overwhelming urge to stay close to Lily. “What if I come get her after she falls asleep?”
“Then she’ll miss waking up with Rachel and Amy. She misses the whole morning routine of lying around in the sleeping bags, eating breakfast while they watch cartoons, getting dressed together, doing each other’s hair—”
“God. Fine.” He gave up. No one argued like his mother. And it was in Lily’s best interest. “Don’t worry about me going through withdrawals all night. Why couldn’t you schedule this during one of my away games?”
“It had to fall on a weekend night and fit with Sarah’s, Rachel’s, and Amy’s schedules too.” She grinned. “Remember, it’s not all about you anymore.”
He sighed dramatically. But he’d never believed everything was about him. His parents had drilled that into him early.
A burst of giggles erupted in the background, and a sweet ache surged inside Beckett. “Okay, okay, what about this—I’ll come over and sleep on the couch. She won’t even know I’m there until she wakes up, and I’ll let her stay and play with the girls. I promise I won’t cramp her style.”
“Oh my God, Beckett.” His mother gave him a pitying look. “You realize she has to go away to college someday, right?”
“Shit, don’t do that to me.” He dropped his head and covered his face with his free hand. “That’s cruel.”
His mother’s laughter made Beckett laugh too.
“How do you get through away games?”
He wore himself out on the ice, trained extra hard, and found an occasional hookup—because that had become the only time he could hook up without traipsing strange women in and out of Lily’s life. Which was—without question—unthinkable. And, of course, he missed Lily like crazy. But he told his mom, “I think about getting back home.”
His mom passed the phone to Lily.
Her dark eyes and button nose filled the screen. “Hi, Daddy.”
Beckett’s grin slid into his chest and lit him up from the inside out. “Hey, beautiful. How was school today?”
“Good,” she chirped. “We finger-painted. I played with Becca and Colby on the swings.”
“What did you paint?”
“You skating.” Her perfectly smooth brow pulled into a frown, and her little nose scrunched up. “But Colby used all the bright blue, so I didn’t have the right color.”
He chuckled at her diligence to get his uniform right. “I’m sure it’s great. Can’t wait to see it. Is Becca over her flu?”
All Lily’s frustration vanished. “Yeah.”
Something distracted her, and she looked away.
“Are you having fun with Rachel and Amy?”
“Yeah,” she said, her gaze still clinging to something else in the room. “We’re gonna watch Frozen.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “Give me a kiss, and I’ll let you go.”