This is the messy, sticky,perfectSunday morning I never knew I wanted.
Zoey catches me staring while Morgan’s distracted drawing a syrup portrait of Prowl the mascot on her plate. She sets her coffee down and brushes a kiss to the top of Morgan's head.
"Go get dressed, kiddo. We're meeting your uncles for lunch at The Leopard Lounge at noon."
"Ohyes!Uncle Declan said he'd teach me how to arm-wrestle!" Morgan declares, racing out of the kitchen. "Don't worry Colt, I'll get payback on Gabe Devereaux for you!"
Zoey comes to stand beside me at the stove, laughing as her daughter's taunt echoes through the entire upstairs level. "You didn't have to do all this."
"I wanted to." I lay my knife and fork down, completely stuffed. "You looked like you needed the sleep."
"I did." She leans her head against my shoulder for a second, and the simple gesture makes my chest ache. "Thank you. For last night. For… everything."
"Anytime, Morrison."
I dip down and kiss her, slow and deep, tasting blueberries and maple syrup on her lips. Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt, holding me there like she doesn't want to let go either.
When we break apart, my forehead rests against hers, and I open my mouth, ready to ask aboutus, about whether we need to tell Morgan what's going on, about whatever the hell this is becoming—
But then Zoey kisses me one last time, and before I can say anything, she says, "I'm gonna grab a shower."
"Right. Yeah." I clear my throat. "I'll do the cleanup. Then I better get down to The Den. Willa hates it when I'm late."
She disappears and I distract myself with the clean up.
The thing is…
I know whatIwant.
I want to show Zoey the world. Give her the damn empire she sketched out in that notebook. I want to watch her stand in a commercial kitchen ten times this size, wearing a chef’s coat and smiling like she knows she’s built it all herself.
I want to be the one Morgan runs to with her card tricks and her weird dolphin theories.
The problem is…
Now the worst of my injury is behind me, I’m not going to be just…here…all day every day. Hanging out, testing pastry recipes, dreaming up the next way to make her smile.
My life is about to kick back into gear.
Full throttle. Hockey 24/7.
Skating drills. Team meetings. Media prep. Game schedules. Away trips that’ll have me sleeping in hotel rooms in different cities for days at a time.
Not to mention the exhaustion that comes with it.
Soon, I won’t be the guy in her kitchen every morning. I’ll be the guy checking in via text from an airport lounge, missing pancake breakfasts and hoping I haven’t missed too much.
I stand there for so long, thinking aboutthatlife, that the soapy water turns lukewarm in the sink.
The back door swings open, and Morgan skips into the kitchen, her Snow Leopards jersey already on over a bright pink t-shirt, her hair in two messy braids.
“Buddy! Are you doing dishes?" She covers the cute giggle sound she makes. "You know, we have a dishwasher, right? It’s that big silver box under the counter.”
Then, she turns quiet for a moment, her small face unusually serious.
"I was just thinking… are you going to be here forever, or is it just for the partnership thing?"
I freeze, dish towel in hand, my entire body going still as I look at her.