The Perfect Assist (Green Bay Bobcats #2)

Prologue

THANKSGIVING LAST YEAR

There’s many ways I’ve imagined waking up in the morning.

Sitting on the deck, coffee in hand as the sun rises over my land.

Or opening my eyes to glance at the clock finding I slept until midday, completely exhausted after winning a big game the night before.

Hell, I’ve even dreamed of waking up with a beautiful woman in my arms a time or two.

Looking over my shoulder, I can’t help but smile at the scene before me. My angelic four-year-old daughter, Sophia, is stretched out diagonally across my king-size bed, sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to the fact that she may have just guaranteed she’ll never have a sibling in her life.

As quietly as I can, I slip out from under the covers, grab my phone, and limp my way into the master bathroom. Splashing some cold water onto my face, I try to recover from the assault that took place three minutes ago.

Once I finally find my bearings, I swipe up on my phone to see what I missed while in Do Not Disturb mode last night: half a dozen DMs from thirsty girls on Instagram that I have no interest in, a few hilarious texts from the boys in our team group chat. But still not a word from Sophia’s mother.

Five years ago, I was a dumb jock in my twenties, thinking I was hot shit because I could score goals in the NHL. With not a care in the world, I’d go out after a game and take home a new piece of arm candy every chance I could get.

All of that changed the day Sophia’s mom showed up on my doorstep telling me she was pregnant.

Claire is a beautiful woman. Tall, with caramel colored hair that falls across her back in beautiful waves, hazel eyes that could bring a man to his knees.

But that day, those beautiful eyes held more than joy and mischief.

She looked scared. Petrified. As soon as she broke down crying and handed me the test, I pulled her into my arms. We spent the morning talking about our options, and I promised I’d be there to support her with whatever she decided.

Claire comes from a very affluent and religious family, so she was adamant about wanting the baby.

We decided we would keep and raise the baby together.

We did our best to make things work. I stopped going out after games and devoted myself to Claire and the baby.

We were good together. She made me laugh.

I made her feel like she was one in a million.

Because she was. She was carrying my child.

It’s absolutely miraculous what a woman and her body can do to bring new life into this world.

I treasured Claire. And little by little, I even found myself falling for her.

The day Sophia was born was the first day of the rest of my life.

She had her mother’s beautiful hazel eyes, a full head of blonde hair that matched my own, and the cutest little fingers that wrapped around mine like they were meant to hold on forever.

I made a promise to Sophia that day that she could hold onto me as long as she needed, that I would never leave her side and I’d be there for her until my very last breath.

Claire made the same promises that day. We ended up getting married a few months later. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Sophia is my reason for everything. Every time I lace up my skates, I think of her and her future dreams. Back then, I’d work hard, come home, and take care of her so Claire could get some alone time.

Claire slipped away from us before I even realized it was happening. She started getting busy with her own dreams of becoming a singer. Don’t get me wrong, Claire has a beautiful voice, and I supported her every step of the way.

It wasn’t until I came home to find Sophia in an hours-old, soiled diaper in her crib while Claire was locked in the recording studio I built for her, that I realized we’d become second-fiddle to Claire and her dreams.

I did everything I could to try to make it work. We’d barely been married a year, and everything was already falling apart. I hired a nanny so Claire could focus on her singing, hoping that would create a more positive environment for all of us.

It was a day before Sophia’s first birthday when Claire took off without warning for the first time.

No note. No text. Nothing. I was sick with worry, calling the police and hospitals trying to locate her.

Calls to her family proved less than helpful, they hadn’t heard from her either.

An entire day went by where I assumed the worst. Something bad must’ve happened. Sophia’s mom was gone with no trace.

And then Claire posted a photo of herself on Instagram saying she had her first gig in Nashville.

The minute I saw that photo, I was at war with my emotions.

How could a mother leave her child a day before their first birthday and not even say goodbye?

But also, the traitorous part of my heart was proud of her.

She was Sophia’s mom and I always wanted her dreams to come true.

But not like this. Not at the expense of our family. Not at the expense of Sophia.

She came home from that trip and swore she’d never leave again without warning. The next time she left was a month later. But at least she left a note that time.

Six months of random disappearing with my heart breaking each time she would up and leave.

I was devastated, not only for my daughter, but for myself too.

I thought I had it all. I was doing everything I could to make my family happy.

How could I fail to keep my wife content?

To the point where she’d rather leave than try and make it work.

Six months was all I could handle before I handed her the divorce papers.

Claire’s selfishness destroyed our family.

I deserved better. Sophia deserved better. No, Sophia deserved the world.

Claire signed the papers immediately and even asked for me to take Sophia full time. It broke my heart. Not for me, but for my beautiful daughter who would never know the unconditional love of a mother.

It’s been nearly four years since our divorce, but time doesn’t make the sting of her leaving hurt any less, especially on days like today.

Which is why I’m furious with myself for being upset over the fact that Sophia’s mom took off again without a word.

I should be used to the fact that I don’t have a missed call or text waiting for me this morning.

But today is Thanksgiving. Claire may be an absentee mom who pops in when it’s convenient for her, but she has never missed a holiday.

I do a quick perusal of Claire’s social media accounts and don’t see any recent videos or photos uploaded that may be a clue as to where she is.

“Goddamn it!” I growl in frustration before flipping my phone over next to the sink. Gripping the counter as tight as I can, I take a deep breath to try to calm the anger that threatens to rise up.

“Daddy?” a soft voice whispers behind me.

Turning around, I see Sophia propped up on my pillow now, with her lion stuffie cradled close to her chest, her worried eyes staring back at me.

“Hey, baby girl. I didn’t know you were awake.” I walk back into my bedroom and slide into the bed next to her.

Sophia nuzzles her head under my arm as I wrap it around her and pull her close. “Daddy, you said a bad word. That’s a dollar for the swear jar.”

I can’t help but laugh at the innocence of my four-year-old. I’m over here afraid her mom is ruining her life by being gone, and she’s worried about getting paid for my damn potty mouth.

“Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Sophia giggles into my chest. “Yes it will, Daddy. The jar is about to explode with all the dollars we collected this week! And all the Bobcats will be here later today to eat turkey! I’m gonna need another jar, I think.”

She makes a good point. Hockey players tend to cuss every other sentence. She’ll probably have enough money in that jar to buy a car after today.

“You’re right. We should go look for one in the garage before they all get here.”

Sophia looks up at me, questions in her eyes, but doesn’t say a word.

Pushing her messy blonde hair out of her face, I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “What is it, Rakas?”

I can see her biting the inside of her cheek before she looks up at me and speaks. “Is Mommy gonna be here for turkey too?”

Damn it. The look on her face tells me she already knows the answer. But, like me, she holds onto some semblance of hope that her mom might show up when she needs her to.

Pulling her up onto my lap so I can cradle her like I used to when she was a baby, I squeeze her tight before speaking. “I don’t think so, Soph. I know she’s usually here with us on holidays, but she had to go somewhere this year.”

She buries her head into my chest and I hear her sniffle. My heart breaks a little at the sound, and I do my best to explain it to her in terms a four-year-old might understand.

“You know how Mummo and Pappa love you to the moon and back but sometimes miss holidays to fly home to Finland to see the rest of our family?” Sophia doesn’t lift her head to look at me, but I feel it nod the slightest bit, signaling she understands.

“Well, your mom had somewhere very important to be so she’ll have to miss Thanksgiving this year. ”

I know for a fact that, wherever Claire is, and whatever she’s doing, it isn’t as nearly as important as being here with her daughter. But I say it anyway because I’ll never speak bad about her in front of Sophia. No matter how much I may want to.

Sophia finally looks up at me, one last tear drop falling down her cheek before she brushes it away with her arm. “Did Mommy have to go visit family in Finland too?”

The earnest look on her face is almost too much to handle.

I wish Claire had an excuse like that. Unfortunately for me, I have no fucking idea where she even took off to this time.

Not wanting to lie to my kid more than I have to, I choose to be vague.

“Something like that, Soph. But I know she misses you so much.”

Sophia falls back into my chest and wraps her tiny little arm around my ribcage. Squeezing me tight, as if she can squeeze away the hurt from both of us. Just as I drop my chin to the top of her head, I hear her whisper, “I miss her more.”

It’s a little after twelve when the doorbell rings again, signaling someone else from the team is here to celebrate Thanksgiving.

I offered to host the team and their families today since we only have one day off for the holiday.

My house is more than big enough to host everyone.

Honestly, it gets a little lonely here with just me, Sophia, and a handful of staff I hired to help around the house.

It’s the reason I try to host weekly team dinners throughout the season too.

The chaos that’s about to ensue is more than welcome.

Opening the front door, I see my head coach, Lincoln Scott, my assistant coach, Ellie Montgomery, and a petite brunette I’ve never seen before, all standing there with curious looks on their faces.

“Come in, come in.” I move aside and let the three of them into my foyer.

Ellie does a slow circle, taking in the high ceilings and winding staircase just behind us. “Wow, Niko. This place is amazing. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Taking their coats and hanging them in the closet, I gesture toward the living room. “Thank you. I’d like to say I designed it myself, but this was all my mom. She even cleansed the space with sage.”

The tiny brunette perks up at the mention of sage and elbows Ellie in the ribs as she makes her way in front of me.

The three of them follow me around as I give them a small tour of the main floor.

The mystery brunette stays hot on my heels, nodding vigorously in between her “oohs” and “ahhs” as I explain the design of the space.

If my mind wasn’t so consumed with Sophia’s mom and worried about where she is at the moment, I probably would find her completely endearing.

Too bad I can barely concentrate on anything today.

Remembering just how sad Sophia was this morning is a reminder I don’t have the time, energy, or mental capacity to even notice a woman these days. Speaking of Sophia, she comes barreling down the hallway just as we step out of the kitchen, running full steam into my legs.

Pretending to stumble backward as if she hit me with the force of a Mack truck, I grab her under the arms and hoist her up onto my hip. “Can you say hi, Soph?”

My daughter is not shy by any means, but sometimes when meeting new people, it takes her a minute to warm up to them. She buries her head into the crook of my neck and gives a small wave. I can’t help but smile at the gesture.

Just as I’m about to excuse myself and Sophia, she perks her head right up. “Daddy, who are your pretty friends?”

Well, that took all of five seconds for her to feel comfortable. Her multiple personalities at this age have me chuckling as I introduce her to my coaches.

Ellie and Lincoln wave, and when I get to Ellie’s pocket-sized friend, I stall. “And this is…I’m sorry. I’m a terrible host. I didn’t get your name.”

Sophia begins to squirm in my arms. As I’m setting my flailing child down on the floor, I think I hear the woman say her name is Sadie. Before I can say a proper “hello,” Sophia is grabbing her hand and rushing her off to the living room, leaving me with Ellie and Lincoln.

They’re both chuckling as I rub my hand across the back of my neck. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure my daughter isn’t roping your friend into doing her makeup or something just as disastrous.”

As I make my way into the living room, I see Sophia has her farm animals set up and is introducing them all to Ellie’s friend. I’d love to stand here and watch them all day, but the sound of the doorbell ringing again steals me away.

I hear both of them laugh at something as I walk away, and the sound heals something inside of me. Hearing Sophia laugh after being so broken-hearted this morning eases some of the tension I’ve been carrying all day.

But I can’t help but wish it was her mom playing with her and making her laugh like that.