Love You Right

I blew out an annoyed sigh and tried not to grimace at the feel of the disgusting mixed drink sliding down my throat. This night was turning out to be less than stellar. My friend, Abby, had set me up on a date with a guy who turned out to be a complete and total asshole. Fifteen minutes into the date and I had to excuse myself to use the restroom. By the time I got back to the table, he had been long gone.

"What a bust." I muttered to myself, grabbing the disgusting drink and tossing it back anyway. I couldn't believe I had gotten all dolled up for this.

A few drinks and shots later, I felt considerably better about myself and the night as I found a guy to dance with, allowing myself to let my hair down and my hips shake to the beat of the song. It wasn't until I felt myself falling forward that I even thought to consider how much I had to drink tonight. The guy I was dancing with made no effort to grab me, and I braced myself to hit the disgusting floor beneath. What I didn't expect was to land into a solid, warm chest.

"Whoa." The chest rumbled, my cheek pressing into the smooth fabric of a sweater. I glanced up with red cheeks at the face belonging to the rest of the body. "Are you okay?" He wondered, his hands straightened me upright as I felt the electric chemistry down to the tips of my purple toes. His mouth fell silent and our eyes locked in a heated gaze as his hands tightened around me. When the moment passed, his hands dropped from my arms, and I immediately started to think of ways to slip back into them.

"I think so." I sent him a smile, trying to stop the flaring of my cheeks, knowing it made me look more like a child and less like a woman. But damn it was so hot in here. "I'm Kara." I reached out a hand to him. His hands were surprisingly soft as his fingers wrapped around mine.

"Patrick."

"Thank you, Patrick, for saving me from the floor." I chuckled nervously.

"Well, I just figured you were too pretty to be laying with the dirty, or dancing with it for that matter." He winked at me, blue eyes crinkling with his smooth smile and charm. I had to resist the urge to bite my lip as his tongue slid over his lips.

"Oh?" I questioned, my eyes darkening as he spoke. God, he was gorgeous.

"Yeah." He insisted, leaning in close to whisper in my ear, his breath making shivers of pleasure shoot down my body. "So dance with me instead."

The dance floor was packed with several of my friends and Patrick's teammates, moving their bodies to the beat of the music. I took a gentle sip of my water as I scanned the dance floor, wondering where my new husband was hiding in the sea of bodies. I had last spotted his blonde locks leaning against the bar with a few of his teammates, joking around with Jonathan Toews, who looked a little more than tipsy. I tugged on my chandelier earrings, hating the way they made my ears itch.

"Kara Kane!" My best friend, Brianna, screamed as she stumbled to me, wrapping her arms around me. The champagne bottle she held in her hand, smacked me between my shoulders. I cringed at the feeling of the damp condensation, sliding onto my skin. "Do you know that your initials are-"

"Yes, Brianna." I rolled my eyes at her. She sure was an obnoxious drunk. "Have you seen Patrick?"

"No? Have you seen Brent because now that I've seen him in a tux, I'm thinking only one night with him wasn't enough." She insisted. I pursed my lips to hold in my laughter as Brent slid behind her, removing her arms from around me, and leading her, champagne and all, to the dance floor.

"Hey Dollface, come here often?" Patrick wondered as he wrapped his arms around me, his breath dancing in my ear as he swayed us back and forth. Our fingers laced together perfectly, and I leaned back into him, tilting my face to him as his chin brushed against my hair.

"Only when I'm getting married." I shrugged casually, snuggling into his body. Where have you been?" I mused as we danced gently to the slow song the DJ had switched to.

"Schmoozing with our guests. I figure if they're getting free booze and food, I might as well make them talk to me." He smirked as he twirled me once and then pulled me into the proper dancing technique.

"Oh, I'm sure suffering through your company has been hard for them." I teased, kissing the corners of his mouth.

"Don't you two have the rest of your lives to make out?" Toews asked as he walked by, shaking his head at his teammate and friend.

"He's just jealous because he doesn't even have a date." Patrick smirked as he spoke, looking at Jonathan who rolled his eyes.

"I could've had my pick." The captain muttered.

"I'm sure." I assured Jon as he walked away. When I looked back, Patrick was studying me in the soft lighting.

"You look different, babe." He insisted, nuzzling his nose into my neck and exhaling quietly.

"A new last name must give me a new look then." I chuckled, hoping he couldn't tell the change I had been hiding all day. I didn't want to tell him the news this way. I wanted to let him know when we were alone.

"Or maybe it makes you glow." He gave me a dreamy smile and kissed my temple before ushering me further onto the dance floor.

I tried to hide my blushing cheeks from his and rested my ear on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, finding comfort in it. We stayed glued together like that well after the song ended and through the next five before we were summoned back to our table for a few more toasts. I took gingerly sips of my champagne, hoping no one noticed, and trying not to cringe at the gulps Patrick was taking. When the toasts were completed, I rested my head on Patrick's shoulder.

"Is it about that time?" Patrick wondered, placing his lips on my head, his fingers lazily combing out the soft curls that escaped over the course of the night.

"Mhm." I mused to him, lacing our fingers together as we made our way through our guests and out the door to the awaiting limo with Just Married written in flawless cursive. Bubbles were blown instead of the tradition rice as we descended the stairs to the loud cheers. I grinned as Patrick slid me into the seat quickly, waving goodbye and slamming the door on the rest of our guests.

"Now for some of our own personal bubbly." Patrick grinned, popping the cork and pouring two glasses.

"Pat, I think we've had enough." I insisted, giving him a look.

"Kare, don't think I didn't notice your small sips during the toasts. I think your problem is that you haven't had enough." Patrick rolled his eyes at me playfully. I didn't say anything, just watched as he gulped a large portion of his glass down.

"Don't you think you should slow down?" I wondered carefully. "You know, for the post-wedding fun?" His eyes blazed a deep blue when they met mine. Visions of rolling around in the sheets, hot, sweaty, and completely satisfied came to mind.

"Babe, we drink champagne to celebrate." He insisted, leaning forward to place a wet sloppy kiss on my lips. The alcohol seeped into my mouth and I resisted the urge to spit.

"Patrick…" I whispered to him, reaching out to touch his lips. "You're right about celebrating, but I can't celebrate with that." I gave him a small smile. Patrick ignored my words and leaned in to drag his teeth against the sensitive skin below the shell of my ear. His tongue gently caressed my lobe before his teeth scraped over the skin, careful of my earrings as I tilted my head, his lips moving down my neck.

"You're right. Why use alcohol when we can celebrate with sex." He mumbled, his breath hot against my wet skin.

"Patrick, we have more to celebrate than just me being Kara Kane." I placed my hands on the side of his head, but he grabbed my arms and pinned them to the leather seat.

"Yes, we need to celebrate the fact that no other guy will get you like I do ever again." He chuckled as he moved to the other side of my neck, marking my skin until it was red.

"Patrick, I'm pregnant."

It seemed as if the whole world stopped as Patrick froze, his lips a centimeter against my neck. If he had been breathing, his break would of danced across my skin, but he wasn't. His fingers slackened their hold on my arms, and I could feel the oxygen in my lungs constricting as I held my breath in. I had envisioned how he would react to the news. I pictured him speechless, but this felt different. Patrick almost seemed… scared.

"Patrick?" I questioned, pealing my arm off the leather seat and threading it through his strawberry blonde hair. "Are you going to say something?"

"Are you sure?" He pulled away, his blue eyes wary but alert. The lust had drained from his blue orbs and I felt a small iciness lodge into my heart where the warm, happiness had once been. He didn't look happy.

"What?" I asked, taken aback by his response. Not exactly the picture perfect reaction.

"I mean, are you [i[sure?" He asked, sitting back into his seat, running his hands through his hair like he did when he was exasperated.

"Yes. I went into the doctor and everything." I let out a small, nervous laugh. "Are you okay?"

"Kara, I just… I need a second."

"Excuse me? I tell you I'm pregnant and you say 'I need a second?' Patrick…"

"What do you want me to say Kara?! I'm not going to lie to you!"

"Lie to me?" I jerked my head back, my eyes narrowing at him. Patrick ignored me and placed his head in his hands. "Honey," I soothed him gently after taking a few moments to pull myself together. I placed my hands on his bicep gently. I leaned over his hunched up shoulder and pressed my lips against his temple, sweetly shushing him.

"Kare, what do I know about being a dad?" Patrick whispered to me, after a few minutes of silence. "I'm not ready."

"Luckily for both of us we have six and a half months to prepare." I kissed his jawline as I felt his shoulders relaxing. "I know you're scared, and I'm scared too." He looked over at me, his blue eyes holding a frightened tinge to them until he took in my watery eyes. He turned towards me again, his thumbs poised under my eyes to catch my tears like always.

"You're right. It's going to be okay. We'll figure it out." He soothed me, his hand running over my bare shoulders and up and down the curve of my spine. I sniffed and closed my eyes, willing myself to breath.

Patrick and I could do this.
***

My heart leapt into my throat later that winter at the sound of the door crashing open in what I presumed to be the kitchen. I clutched at my chest as I sat up as quickly as my large belly would let me. I glanced to Patrick's side of the bed, sighing deeply when I saw he wasn't there. The time on the clock stood in bold, blue letters against the dark room screaming the 3:45 time at me. The baby responded to my fright with a series of kicks to my ribs and I grimaced as I rearranged his feet as best I could.

"It's just your dad." I soothed him, wishing I could hold him close to me as I heard Patrick pounding up the stairs. How could he be doing this to me when I was seven months pregnant? This was his fourth night out past two AM in a row. When was he going to understand that he was going to be a father? That going out after a tough loss didn't soothe the burn the way he wanted it to? This baby was going to come whether Patrick was ready or not, and I had a feeling, even after all the baby books and lamaze classes, it was the latter I would be bringing our son into. The thought made tears burst into my eyes as Patrick attempted to open the door.

"Mother fuck-" He muttered as the door swung open and he stumbled in. I glowered at him from my propped up position as he gave me a lazy, drunk smile. "Baby!" He exclaimed loudly before slapping his hand over his mouth with a small giggle. "I'm so happy to see you." He wiggled his brows at me, drunkenly drawing out the vowels in his words.

"That's why you came home before four AM?" I asked dryly. I watched as he stumbled his way through our master bedroom, discarding his clothes as he entered the bathroom.

"Is it that late?" He called out to me, turning on the water and splashing his face and neck. My posture went ridged and I felt the utter disappointment settling into the depths of my stomach. How could he be this irresponsible when our baby was due in less than two months now? I blew out a sigh at all the questions I didn't have the answers to.

"Patrick." I called quietly to him, sitting up straighter and turning on the lamp.

"Yeah?" He asked, crawling onto the bed with a lazy smile, leaning in for a kiss. I pulled away, shaking my head at him.

"You need to sleep this off in a different room." I told him quietly. He reared his head to look at me, taken aback by my statement as I picked at our gold comforter.

"Kare, I'm sorry that I was out late tonight-"

"That's the thing Patrick. It's not just tonight. It's been every night this week." I stressed to him, my eyes beginning to tear at the hurt look on his face. How dare he make me feel guilty for taking a stand. "You can't keep doing this. Once the baby is here, it's not okay for you to come stumbling in drunk at four in the morning." I shook my head at him.

"Kara… I'm sorry." He whispered, trying to reach for me.

"Patrick, I don't wand to hear that you're sorry; that's not good enough. You need to change. I need you to grow up; we need you to grow up." I grabbed his hand and placed it on the baby. " I need you to be the man I know you're capable of being. We need that. I'm scared Patrick, and with every night you come home stumbling and drunk, my fears increase."

"Baby, you don't need to worry. I'm here, and I-I will changed. I'll do whatever it takes. But you don't need to be afraid because I'm not going anywhere."

"I need you to show me, not tell me." I whispered to him as a tear slid from my eye. He swiped it away with his thumb before it could trickily down my cheek, leaning forward to kiss my lips tenderly.

"I'll show you." He murmured, a strong hand on my neck and my stomach, pressing me into the pillows and surrounding my with a fragile bubble of resolution.
***

"Hey dollface, come here often?" Patrick Kane leaned in the doorway of the kitchen as I washed a few dishes that wouldn't fit in the jam packed dishwasher. I smirked down at the plastic dinosaur fork I was scrubbing, before looking at him.

"Often enough considering my superstar husband considers doing dishes beneath him." I threw him a poised smirk as he pushed off the door jam and sauntered over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and rocking me gently.

"Why would I do dishes? That's women's work." He gave me a snide grin as I whirled around at him.

"Patrick Kane!" I exclaimed, whipping him with a towel. "You're sleeping in the garage tonight."

"I was kidding!" He howled at me as I snapped him in the stomach with the towel again. "I will do the dishes." He insisted, hip checking me out of the way gently. I scooted to the side as the sound of little feet pattering against the dark wood floors reached my ears.

"Daddy!" A.J. screamed loudly, running at his father's legs as fast as his tiny feet would carry him. Patrick released me from his grip and dropped to his knees to catch his little bullet safely. He tucked his head under his chin and held him tight for a moment before pulling away and smothering his face with kisses.

"Oh daddy missed his favorite baby."

"I'm your only baby!" A.J. exclaimed with an infectious giggle. I placed a hand on Patrick's head gently and tilted his face back to kiss his lips.

"I think daddy's little man missed you too." I grinned against his spread lips and kissed him one more time.

"But not mama?" He inquired from me, his eyebrows wagging suggestively. I narrowed my lids at him before walking past to the living room. "What a view." I heard Patrick murmur to a naive A.J. before tickling his sides. I shook my head with a smile as I scooped up my four year old's toys, tossing them gently into the baskets along the wall.

"I was playin' wit' those." He insisted, grabbing the soccer ball I had just tossed into the basket. I rolled my eyes at him as I turned, catch my husband's far off look as he leaned against the wall.

"Daddy! Play wit' me!" A.J. yelled as he tossed the soccer ball to the side again and picked up his plastic hockey stick. His bare feet pattered against the wood floors as he ran to hand his dad it's twin. Patrick chuckled and sank down to his knees, playing goalie and letting A.J. pound shot after shot into his body. "Goal!" My son screamed as the orange puck finally slid past Patrick. A.J. began to bounce around in a circle, humming the tune to Chelsea Dagger.

"Shouldn't you be singing Rock You Like A Hurricane?" Patrick asked of his miniature clone, shaking him slightly as he scooped him into his arms and walked towards the chair I had slipped into. Now that Patrick was home from his most recent road trip, I was allowed to have a moment to myself. Our son responded with a quick shake of his head before tucking his thumb into his mouth. "Buddy, I don't think hockey players suck their thumbs after they're four." Patrick winked at the little boy. A.J. looked down at his thumb and then up at the two of us. His thumb casually slipped out of his mouth as he burrowed in deeper to his father's chest.

"But I wanna." He whispered, yawning tiredly.

"My little bubs is tired." Patrick grinned against the top of his mop head, looking at me and wiggling his brows. "We should get you to bed." He gave his head a kiss, standing up. "But let's take the airplane up the stairs!" He cheered as I leaned my head against the couch pillows.

"Fly over here first and give mama a kiss." I puckered my lips, reaching out for my little boy and smothering his precious face with kisses. "I love you, pumpkin." I gave his lips a small peck as his little hands placed themselves on my cheeks.

"I love you, mama."

"To the moon and back." I whispered back to him, kissing his dainty nose before allowing his father to disappear up the stairs with loud, plane-like noises in my boys' wake.

I sunk pack into the pillows, resting my head against them as I closed my eyes. A few images flashed before my eyes and I smiled at the thought of our wedding night. Patrick had been so scared, so terrified about being a dad. It was comical to think back on that time when Patrick had turned into such an incredible father. From the moment he was born, Patrick had slid contently into his role as A.J.'s dad with the late night diaper changes and feedings, but even more than that, he had turned into an incredible man. He came home every night after the games, ready to tuck our son into bed, and then myself. Every night he wasn't on the road, I snuggled up tight to my husband and drifted to sleep feeling like a princess. I never though that could be something I would enjoy, but now that I've had it, I can't live without it.

"Asleep at last!" Patrick cheered quietly as he returned downstairs, sitting next to me and immediately engulfing me in his arms. "How about a foot rub?" He asked me as he took my cold appendages into his warm, smooth hands.

"That sounds about right." I grinned, "Make it a good one and maybe I'll let you sleep in the guest bedroom instead of the garage." I moaned loudly as his thumbs dug into just the right spot against the arch of my foot. I didn't have to open my eyes to see the intense lust building in his blue eyes. "Not tonight, cowboy." I reached out to him, my eyes still shut, and his hand found mine, our fingers sliding and lacing together. "You know what I was just thinking about?" I stared at him through lower lashes as he quirked a curious eyebrow. "How incredibly lucky I have been to have you and A.J. in my life."

"That's funny, cause I was just thinking the same thing." He leaned over me, dropping my feet and instead focusing on massaging my lips with his. His hand slid down my sides and under my body, holding me to him in a protective and sexy way. I mused my approval and yearning with a moan from low in my chest.

"Mmm, I have something to tell you superstar." I whispered to him when he pulled away to run kisses down my neck. I grinned at his position before letting familiar words fall from my lips. "I'm pregnant." Patrick froze again just like he did that night, pulling away to look down into my face, but this time, an uninhibited grin spread his pink lips. His teeth were practically bursting out of his mouth and he leaned his head back, laughing a joyful laugh.

"I didn't even know how to love you right when we met, and now I've got a hot wife and two babies." He leaned down, pressing a firm but sweet kiss against my lips.

"You're a lucky superstar, Patrick Kane." I combed my fingers through his hair as he slid down my body, placing his head gently against my stomach. "What do you want this time?" His eyes were shut as he leaned into the touch of my nails.

"Whatever you want, Dollface" He whispered to me, kissing my stomach.

"Don't take the easy way out, Patrick Kane." I gently wrapped my fingers through his blonde locks, holding his face up to look into my eyes. He quirked a grin at me, shaking his head and sliding back up to hover over me, lips poised just an inch away from mine.

"A little girl just like her mama." He murmured, "She'll be the only woman I love as much as you." His lips slid against mine while a perfect content, sigh escaped my body.

After 27 years, I finally knew what it felt like to be loved right. And damn it felt good.