Dream Girl Drama (Big Shots #3)

Epilogue

Five Years Later

Sig walked into the house he shared with Chloe in Jamaica Plain, a green suburb of Boston, and set down his equipment bag with a thud. His eyes closed automatically when he heard the harp notes drifting down the stairs, taking a moment to savor the fact that he was coming home to his best friend. And knowing without an iota of uncertainty that she would be equally eager to see him. There was something about a man believing his soulmate was out of reach forever that made him profoundly and eternally grateful to marry her. That gratitude seemed to triple every time he went on the road and returned to her arms.

With a knot in his throat, Sig started up the stairs, looking at the pictures that hung on the wall as he went. Their wedding day, which had taken place in Sofia’s backyard, overlooking the Sound, the country club where they met in the distance. After he’d uncovered the truth about his paternity, there had been a few months of friction between the two couples. Not to mention, the tension between Sig and his mother. After all, either one of them could have put Sig and Chloe out of their misery with a single revelation about his paternity. And Sofia... well, she was Sofia and wasn’t changing any time soon. Ultimately, Sig was too fucking happy to be with Chloe to hold a grudge and his wife felt the same, although she’d created some healthy boundaries with Sofia and didn’t feel guilty about redefining them when necessary. Just one of the million reasons Sig was the proudest husband on the planet.

They chose the dates they visited Darien.

Chloe refused to let her mother so much as pay for a muffin.

And when Sofia referred to Chloe as impulsive now, she responded with thank you, that impulsiveness has served me well .

Watching Chloe thrive so drastically that Sofia had no choice but to grudgingly embrace her daughter’s independence and new strength of spirit? Priceless.

Sig would never be close with Harvey, but the reconciliation between him and the man he’d once believed to be his father had allowed for visits to Darien, so Chloe could see her mother—and being able to fulfill her wishes made swallowing his pride a no-brainer. He’d even let Harvey drag him to the country club for a round of golf once or twice.

Golf. It wasn’t so bad, after all. As an added bonus, he got to think back to the night he’d met the love of his life on that very same grass. A night he’d remember in vivid detail until his very last breath.

Beside the picture of him lifting Chloe’s veil and kissing her, there was one of him standing shoulder to shoulder with Bobby Prince, his unsuspecting real father, a carpenter who now lived in Maine and ran an Adirondack chair design company with his two boisterous brothers. Meaning, Sig had uncles, cousins. Loud ones. A family that wanted to know him. Fortunately or unfortunately, they also fucking loved hockey and were constantly hitting him up for Bearcats tickets so they could come cheer him on beside Chloe... who’d gone back to wearing her pink jersey with pride, of course.

In another picture, Sig held the Stanley Cup over his head, roaring over the victory in front of a sold-out crowd—including Bobby, who applauded from the family section. A dream fulfilled in a way that was better than he could have imagined. For both of them. He’d gained a father, and Bobby, who’d never been made aware of the paternity test results thirty years earlier, was proud to call Sig his son. And give him unsolicited hockey advice.

Rosie still came to her one annual game, though she made sure it was not a game Bobby would be attending, and both of his parents seemed comfortable leaving their acquaintance in the past where it belonged. Sig thought they were being dramatic and stubborn, but Chloe liked to point out that Sig’s stubbornness had come from somewhere—and if he hadn’t been stubborn, he never would have hired that private investigator.

To her, that trait was something to be thankful for.

Sig? He was just thankful for Chloe.

Beside the treasured snapshot of him lifting the Cup was a photo of Chloe the morning she’d handcuffed herself to his truck after catching him on the phone with a dealership. And finally, a snap of their annual baseball game in the park, organized by Corrigan and Skylar, whose story was nearly as fraught as Sig and Chloe’s.

Nearly.

Perhaps it depended on who you asked.

A soft sigh wove its way through the gentle harp notes and Sig took the stairs faster, needing badly to see his wife. Hold her in his arms. He knew from experience that the aches and pains leftover from the games he’d just played on the road would melt away as soon as he was kissing her. She was the ultimate adrenaline hit and she only got more potent, more extraordinary over time. God, the world would have been a dark place without her.

Quietly, Sig turned the corner into their bedroom, a grin spreading wide across his mouth when he saw Chloe was engaging in her favorite pastime.

Naked harp playing.

The sunlight poured in through the window and highlighted the gilded instrument, the leafy design inlaid along the polished wood. It had taken a full year of negotiations, but he’d finally convinced Grace to sell him Chloe’s favorite harp. He’d paid dearly for the thing—and damn, it was worth every single penny to watch the enjoyment wash over Chloe’s features every time she sat down in front of the instrument.

“It reminds me of our story,” she’d said to him once. “It reminds me I was without you once. As I play the songs, you come back to me. Over and over. It’s like joy on repeat.”

How could Sig not buy the harp after hearing that?

Although, unlike Chloe, he did not like to think of a time when they weren’t together. A time when he’d almost left Boston to avoid perpetual heartbreak. He was more than happy to leave that pain in the past... and focus on the present.

And the future.

The curve of Chloe’s pregnant stomach came into view and he swallowed hard, winded by the sudden acceleration of his heart. What on earth had he done to deserve coming home to an angel playing the harp in his bedroom, their future son sleeping in her belly?

Unable to stand another minute without touching her, Sig kicked off the boots he’d forgotten to take off downstairs and padded across the carpet in his socks, approaching from the side so he wouldn’t startle her. To his surprise, though, she didn’t jolt or gasp when he came into view. She simply looked up at him and smiled.

“I knew you were there.”

His heart boomed being this close to his soft, sexy wife, all covered in sunshine. Lord. It was impossible to prepare himself for this level of perfection. “Did you?” he asked, thickly.

“I always know.” She graced the air with a few languid notes. “The house is happier when you’re in it. It turns into a home.”

“What about you? Are you happier when I’m home?” Sig asked, already knowing the answer, but craving the feeling of hearing Chloe say it out loud.

“Infinitely. I’m happy when I know you’re out doing what you love.” A few wistful notes, before she dropped her fingers from the strings and turned on the padded stool. “But I always want you here with me afterward. And every moment in between.”

He knelt in front of her, resting the side of his face in her lap. Inhaling her unique scent. “I’m here now, thank God.”

“I know.” There was a smile in her voice as she ran her talented fingers through his hair. “Your son knows, too. He’s kicking.”

Sig’s head came up so fast, he felt dizzy. “He’s... what?”

Chloe’s laugh rang out. “Feel for yourself.”

Two hundred and thirteen career goals, a Stanley Cup, and the captain patch on his jersey... and none of it compared to gently placing his palms on his wife’s belly and feeling life moving on the other side.

What did compare?

Looking up into the damp eyes of the woman he loved beyond reason and knowing they had a million more adventures to come. To share. Together, always.