The Mother Faulker
Brilliant, broke, and building stability where none existed before.
I grew up somewhere that assumes your future will look exactly like your past.
Scholarships, discipline, and more late nights than I can count are the reason mine won’t.
I’m within reach of finishing my PhD and building the kind of life where stability isn’t something you hope for. It’s something you create.
Then Lucy arrives.
A little girl who’s already seen more dysfunction than any child should, and suddenly, the future I’ve been working toward carries a lot more weight.
Finishing my doctorate isn’t just about ambition anymore. It’s about making sure Lucy grows up somewhere steady, somewhere safe, somewhere with room to grow.
Which is not the apartment I share with three other people while barely getting by.
Most of the guys who used to live there have moved on with the women they fell for, women I know through the bookstore where I work and a PR campaign I’ve been helping with.
The house that once held half a hockey roster has room for more.
It’s about to become our temporary home.
Built for pressure, burdened by inheritance, best on the ice.
Responsibility has never been my favorite word.
Not when it comes wrapped in estates, expectations, and a family legacy that assumes my life already belongs to it.
Hockey is different. Hockey is something I chose.
Then there’s Hildy.
Brilliant. Stunning. The kind of woman who turns heads the moment she walks into a room, even in thrifted clothes.
Most people underestimate her. That’s their first mistake.
Mine was assuming she recognized me.
But the woman who stole my attention during a lecture, and kept it long after, clearly believed I was just another academic.
She still does.
Which means she has no idea the man she left that lecture with lives at the Puck Pad. The same place she’s about to call home.
What if the night she barely remembers is only the beginning?
Pages
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172