Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)
Pucking Sweet: Chapter 85

My tongue feels dry. That’s the first thought I have as I wake in the ICU. I don’t have to open my eyes to know where I am. I know the sounds of a cardiac intensive care unit better than any person ought. There’s that sterile smell hospitals have, and the gentle whir, hum, and beep of all the machines. An oxygen hose wraps around my face.

I don’t want to move. I know what they did to me. I know what sits in my chest, just beneath the skin. And I’m so goddamn grateful. Like the doctors said, with my heart, it was only a matter of time. A pacemaker gives me more time. Who knows, with advancements to devices and new medications, I could live to be a hundred.

Ten years, a hundred years, I’ll take them all. Every day with my loved ones is a gift I won’t be taking for granted.

Part of me wants to feel angry about it all. My career is over. My last game was my last game, and I didn’t even know it. But I think maybe it’s better this way. There were no tears, no long speeches from the guys. No one had to live with being the one who ended my career with a hard hit. This was such a freak thing. An accident—

Oh shit.

Jamal. That’s his name, right? Skinny kid with glasses. I’ll have Poppy get in touch with him for me. He doesn’t need to carry this. It’s not his fault.

I just have a weak heart.

“Cole?”

I smile. Lukas’s voice is like a balm on my weary soul.

“Hey, bud. I saw you starting to move a bit. You just relax, okay? I’m here.”

“Poppy,” I manage to say, not feeling ready to open my eyes.

He takes my hand, squeezing it. “She’s good. She’s upstairs. Claribel is still with her. Poppy made me come down here and sit with you. You’ve been terrific company by the way,” he adds. “I haven’t been bored at all.”

I open my eyes. It could be day or night. I can’t tell because there are no windows in this room. Lukas is sitting at my bedside. This is still the ICU, so they’ve got him in the protective clothing—mask, gown, gloves. “Hey,” he says. “How do I look?”

“Better than me,” I mutter.

“Not possible. You’re a sexy beast.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight.”

I pause for a moment, readying myself for the worst. “How bad is it?”

He shrugs. “You’ll understand more of the jargon than me, but they said the implantation went well, and your heart seems to be responding so far. Normal rhythm. Given the emergent nature of the incident, they wanna hold you at least overnight—”

“Wait—she’s upstairs?” I try to sit up but fall back with a groan.

Lukas puts a hand on me. “Whoa, easy there. Let’s not move just yet, yeah?”

Things still feel a little fuzzy and I’m so tired. “The baby—what’s happening?”

Even through the mask, I can see that he’s smiling.

“Oh god . . .”

“He’s perfect,” he says. “He was born around 6 p.m.”

I sigh with relief. Closing my eyes, I send up a prayer of thanks.

“He’s a little nugget,” Lukas goes on. “He only weighs, like, six pounds. I can’t remember the length. But he has ten fingers, two tails, and the cutest little flippers for feet, just like we wanted.”

I smile, opening my eyes again. “And Poppy?”

“Bud, she was a total champ. She cursed like a sailor and nearly broke my hand, but we got there in the end. She’s doing great. No complications. And Little Bud is happy and healthy. Wanna see?”

I nod.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials Poppy. “Here, lemme try to do a video call.”

She picks up immediately. “Hi, honey,” she says, her voice filling this room.

“Hey,” Lukas says through his mask. “I’m here with Coley. He’s awake.”

“Oh, thank god,” she says, the relief evident in her tone. “Let me see him.”

Lukas stands and leans over the side of my bed, keeping the camera facing us so I can see Poppy. She’s propped up in her own hospital bed, a pile of pillows behind her. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and a silky floral robe is tucked around her shoulders. She looks beautiful. I take in my own tired features before my eyes are right back on her.

“Hey, honey,” she says at me. I know from her tone that she’s trying not to cry. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I admit. “You?”

“Oh, you know, the same.”

“Can I see him?”

She nods. “Yeah, Claribel was just changing his diaper. She’s bringing him over now.” There’s a bit of jostling as she moves the camera back. Then I see Claribel’s shoulder in the shot as she hands my son back to his mother. He’s swaddled in a little white blanket dotted with anchors. “Can you see him?” Poppy asks.

I nod, tears in my eyes. “You both look so beautiful, baby.”

“Here, hold on—” Poppy reaches for the phone one-handed. She jostles it again as she gets the camera turned around. Then she’s holding it up over our sleeping son, showing me a closeup of his face. One hand is out, clutching to the blanket. I can see tiny little fingernails on each finger. His eyes are closed. His head is dusted with dark, baby soft hair, and his skin . . .

Oh god.

Lukas leans in. “We can do a DNA test if you want, but the kid looks just like you, bud.” He kisses my brow through his mask. “Looks like sex in the elevator won this time.”

I’m so fucking happy. This doesn’t feel real.

“Lukas said you gave him a name?” says Poppy, her smile as radiant as the sun.

“Yeah, I did,” I reply, shifting a little. I want to get closer. I want to reach through the phone and touch them. “If you’re both okay with it, I want to call him Bennett. It means ‘blessed.’”

And we are. God, we’re so fucking blessed. So goddamn lucky. I blink back my tears.

“It’s perfect.” Lukas squeezes my shoulder. “No Colton John Morrow IV? You’re sure?”

I just smile. “Colton is a fine name. But growing up, I always wanted a name that was just mine. A name with no weight to it, no expectation. Bennett is a gift, a blessing all his own.”

“I love it,” Poppy echoes.

“Bennett St. James?” Lukas asks with a raised brow. “We can break with tradition entirely.”

Poppy flips the camera, her face back in view. “Oh no, my babies will have their daddies’ last names. Bennett Morrow.”

“Well, look at you, Miss Old Fashioned,” he teases.

She laughs. “Yeah, I’m nothing if not traditional.”

“What about a middle name?” Lukas asks, looking at me.

I’m quiet for a moment. “I was thinking maybe Anton.”

He goes still. “But that’s my middle name.”

I smile. “I know, that’s why I picked it.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Look, I love you, and I’m flattered, but Anton was my grandpa’s name, and I fucking hated that asshole. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to just skip using any of my names altogether.”

“Lukas—”

“No, I’m serious,” he says, over Poppy. “Babe, if you and I ever have a kid, I want them to be Morrows too. Morrow to me means family. You’re a Morrow, you know you’re wanted and loved. You know you belong.”

She nods. “Okay, Morrow it is. But Mister Bennett still needs a middle name.”

We’re all quiet for a moment.

“Let’s go with John,” says Lukas.

I raise a brow. “John?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, it’s your middle name. It’s a good, strong name. And not all traditions have to end. Four generations of Morrow men with the middle name ‘John’ seems fitting to me.”

“Is that your name, baby?” Poppy turns the phone back around to show us his sleeping face. “Is your name Bennett John Morrow?”

Seeing his face again, all the emotions of the day hit me like a wave, and I start to cry. The sobs cause a sharp pain around the bruising in my chest, but I can’t stop.

“Okay, whoa.” Eyes wide, Lukas leans away from the bed. “What’s wrong, bud? Are you—is this like a heart thing? Are you in pain?”

“I just wanna hold him,” I pant, unable to catch my breath. “Wanna hold them both.”

“Yeah, only they can’t come down to the ICU,” Lukas warns.

“Will you please do something, Lukas?” Poppy cries through her own tears.

He looks around wildly. “Okay, umm…here—” He takes my hand and curls my fingers around the phone. “You’re holding them, okay? Just hold them just like that.”

I hold the phone in both hands as he moves around the other side of my bed. Rattling the rail down, he climbs onto the bed, wrapping his arms around me as best he can. Clutching the phone, I press my face to his chest and let go of all the fear, grief, and anxiety weighing down my chest. Lukas holds me, whispering soothing words of love, telling the three of us about the beautiful life we’ll share together.

When Bennett fusses, Poppy sets the phone down where I can still see them both and offers him her breast. Lukas holds me as I watch her hold my son. She hums softly as she rocks him, letting him feed. My breathing finally calms as I realize she’s humming the Jonas Brothers song I sang to her at karaoke a few months ago. A smile tips the corner of my lips.

We stay like that, the four of us, locked in this quiet moment, until the only emotion left in my still-beating heart is peace.