Page 148 of Meant for Mayhem

I caught her before she collided with my legs and lifted her into my arms. “Hi, kulta.”

She grabbed both sides of my face and planted a sticky kiss on my nose, leaving a trail of icing behind.

“That’s disgusting.”

Leena giggled and did it again.

Shannon stopped beside us, wearing a black skirt, tights, and a band tee with a lace long-sleeve shirt underneath. But instead of her typical flannel shirt tied around her waist, it was my jersey.

I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?” she said, her hand resting on my chest.

“I have a few minutes.”

“You mean you wanted to make sure everyone appreciated the way you spoiled us.”

I gestured at the half-empty buffet. “Clearly, it wasn’t enough.”

Jace was already at the buffet again, grabbing even more food.

“That kid is a bottomless pit,” Shannon said. “Last night he ate an entire pizza and then asked what was for dinner.”

“He has a game tomorrow, right?” Logan said around a mouthful. “He’s carb-loading. He’s an athlete.”

“He’s young and growing, but you two are old and deteriorating, so what’s your excuse?”

I pinched her side, drawing a high laugh out of my wife.

She squirmed away, and Leena immediately copied me, trying to tickle Shannon.

“Et tu, tiny traitor?”

Leena babbled a response that wasn’t Finnish or English, but had so much expression, I could tell she was amused.

The suite door opened behind us, and I turned to see who else was here. Leena looked behind us too, then practically launched out of my arms when my mom came in. I set her down, and she raced across the room as Mom wheeled inside.

“My sweet girl.” Mom barely had time to lock her wheels before she caught my daughter against her chest and kissed every inch of her face. “I missed you so much.”

Leena patted Mom’s cheeks talking in a combination of English, Finnish, and words only she understood.

Mom looked up at us, tears shining in her eyes. “She has so many words now.”

“That’s because her mama is brilliant,” I said.

Shannon turned toward me, a smile pulling at her lips. Even after weeks of Leena calling her Mama, the word still softened every sharp edge she had.

“I don’t think I get all the credit here,” she said.

Dad stood behind Mom, looking around the room. A framed jersey I’d worn in last year’s Stanley Cup hung on the wall, along with several other memorabilia from my time here with the Yeti, and yet this was his first time seeing it.

He’d called several times since Christmas, but I hadn’t answered. I didn’t know what to say to him, and I had no reason to believe another conversation would end differently from the others. Still, his attention moved around the crowded suite before settling on me.

“Mikko.” He put his hands into his coat pockets. “Can we talk?”

Shannon’s brow arched, the question in her expression clear. But just as she’d faced down her brothers on her own, this battle was mine to fight.

I kissed her temple. “Two minutes.”