Epilogue
Harley
A year later
The taxi drops me off in front of My Little Bookish Heart. The setting sun washes the sky with warm golden lights over the brick building in front of me.
So far, this is been an amazing day and it’s about to get even better.
Two store employees are standing outside the bookstore, wearing sports jerseys with ‘Hockey Book Boyfriends Do It Better’ written across their chest.
I guess that’s a clue to today’s mystery guest author.
The two bookstore owners sent an invitation for a blind date with a book and a blind date with an author, and no way was I going to miss the event. Since Kaz is hanging out with Erik, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.
I approach the women who are more than aware of my addiction and smile.
The tall redhead with brown eyes holding an iPad returns my smile. “Hey, Harley. Glad you could make it.” She lowers her eyes to the device, her finger scrolling the screen. “You’re good to go.”
“Thank you.”
“Here’s your blind date with a book copy.
” Her colleague, a short Latina with almond shaped brown eyes, hands me a book wrapped in craft paper with all the trimmings that make book girlies giddy—genre themed stickers, colored sticky tabs, a pen, two highlighters, a bag of tea, one of hot chocolate, and a bookmark.
“This is an odd shape,” I say with a frown. “It isn’t a novel.”
“No, but I’m sure it’s puck-tastic.”
I snort laugh as I take the book from her. “Good one.”
“See you inside,” she says, opening the door to the bookstore.
It’s standing room only.
Wow.
I make my way through the crowd of women clenching their wrapped book in the direction of the stage. At my height, if I don’t, I’ll miss all the action.
A waiter passing by offers me a drink. I narrow my eyes on the little white card on his tray.
Blue sparkle cocktail. Sparkling wine, Curacao liquor, and vodka.
I meet the waiter’s eyes. “Right up my alley.” I pluck a flute. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Since there are so many eager readers, there’s no roaming around the bookstore, so I stay put where I’m standing and enjoy my drink.
“Hello, everyone.” One of the bookstore owners is standing on the makeshift stage, leaning into the microphone.
“Thank you so much to all of you avid readers for coming out on this glorious afternoon,” the blonde says.
“Your Sunday is about to get better. This is a double whammy. A blind date with a book and a blind date with an author. We kept the identity of our special guest a secret because once the cat is out of the bag, you ladies are gonna lose your shit.”
That’s a big promise.
“Tuck the copy of your book under your arm and let’s give a big round of applause to our guest author. His resume is impressive. All-Star hockey player. Former center and team captain for the New York Blazers…”
Wait. What?
“Three-time Stanley Cup winner. Olympic gold and silver medalist. Triple Gold Club member…”
What’s going on here?
“Restaurateur and craft beer brewer extraordinaire are also part of his accolades.”
This isn’t possible.
“And last, but not least, philanthropist,” she says. “Kazimir Lindstrom just added another feather to his cap––published author.”
When the hell did he have time to write a book?
“Kaz, if you’ll join us on stage,” the blonde says.
The crowd claps.
Some women whistle.
I’m shell-shocked to do anything else but to stand there like a marble statue.
My heart stumbles, then stops altogether when a devastatingly handsome, rugged, and intoxicating man steps on stage. He’s wearing the hell out of a navy-blue suit accompanied with a white shirt sans tie look.
Jaw meet floor.
“Thank you so much, Laura,” Kaz says.
She responds with an enthusiastic wave and a shoulder shimmy.
Kaz swings his gaze towards the crowd, our eyes colliding.
I shake my head.
He winks in response. “Thank you so much for coming out for my debut book. I’ll read a few passages from it. Please be kind, I’m no audiobook narrator, but Laura assures me, and I quote, ‘Readers eat that shit up’.”
Laura points at him, her grin taking over her face.
Chuckles echo around the bookstore.
“So, now that my identity has been revealed, it’s time for you to rip off the craft paper.”
Tearing sounds bounce off the walls.
With frantic hands, I pull off all the bookish frills and stuff them in my tote bag before tearing the craft paper.
Oh.
My.
God.
I stare in shock at the illustrated cover of a tall blue-eyed hockey player and a short blonde who looks a lot like me, but cartoon style.
“Pucking Perfect isn’t a novel… it’s more of an illustrated book,” Kaz says. “Turns out, writing a book is fu—” He rubs a hand behind his neck. “Sorry about that. Hockey players swear a lot.”
There’s a collective chuckle.
“What I’m trying to say, is that it takes some skills to write a novel because it’s hard work.”
“It’s damn hard,” someone says from the back.
Kaz nods. “Thanks to the generosity of some of my girlfriend’s favorite romance authors who were so kind in guiding me in my journey as a rookie author—their names appear on the acknowledgement page—I decided to tell my epic love story in a way that would ensure I do it in this century.
The words, although not eloquent, are my own.
I commissioned an artist for the illustrations.
I tried drawing them myself, but after a focus group with a bunch of five-year-olds who convinced me I had zero artistic talent, I gave up.
I tried my hand at stock illustrations, but the end result wasn’t to my liking.
My girl deserves the best. So, I turned to a professional. ”
“Your girl is a lucky bitch, Kaz,” a woman says.
“I agree,” someone else says.
I laugh. Yes, I am.
“No.” He shakes his head and smiles over at me. “I’m the lucky one.”
Emotion swells my chest and my ovaries nearly explode.
“Please open the book to the dedication,” Kaz says.
We all obey.
“To the blonde bombshell who came whirling into my life and showed me I was worth loving.”
Women around me awww.
I stare up at him, mouth agape.
He offers a small smile and winks at me.
“Let’s dive into the story,” Kaz says. “Chapter 1.” He clears his throat.
“Even bad days can be magical.” More throat clearing.
“Once upon a time, on a beautiful sunny day, a grumpy hockey player named Kaz was throwing a party at his Hampton cottage, and a beautiful blonde princess named Harley showed up and turned his world upside down.” He turns the book around and points to the two characters.
“He didn’t want to be around anyone else that day, because something really bad happened, but he couldn’t stay away from her. ”
I don’t even know what to make of this.
He turns the page. “Then, there was a lot of drama that unfolded in both their lives and they lost touch for almost a year.” Kaz lifts a finger up. “But serendipity had some devious plans up her sleeve on the day she reunited them.”
For the next several minutes, I flip through the pages of what is now officially my favorite book of all time, and I’m totally in awe. Kaz is wrong. His deep, smokey voice is right up there with my favorite narrators.
I glance around the bookstore.
Some of the women are so enthralled by the story, they’re not even flipping the pages, they’re staring at him. Others have their phones out and are recording every minute of my boyfriend’s debut as an author.
“Epilogue,” Kaz says.
I lower my gaze.
“For the past two years, the beautiful princess and the grumpy hockey player have been living together. Every day, he wakes up, and he thinks his life can’t be any better, but there’s always a little voice niggling at him.
” He rubs his clean-shaven jaw. “What if it could be way better?” He pauses and stares up at me. “If you’ll turn to the next page.”
My fingers can’t turn the page fast enough.
It’s… blank?
“Goldilocks, will you come up here and help me write the last chapter?”
For a moment, I’m frozen in place.
I didn’t see any of this coming, and I sure as hell didn’t expect to be center stage today.
Unshed tears sting my nose.
This man.
The redhead who greeted me at the door strolls my way, a huge smile stretching her lips. “I’ll hold onto these for you.” She grabs the book and my tote from my hands. “Your man wants you up there.”
I nod.
I ignore the frantic beating of my heart, and make my way to the stage. I do a double take when I spot Erik standing there, with a pretty impressive camera in his hands.
Kaz approaches and extends a hand, helping me up the three steps to the stage. He plays around with something clipped to the lapel of his jacket. “The mic.”
I nod.
“Surprised?”
I gawk at him. “No, more like shocked.”
“Good. Had you seen it coming, all this work would’ve been in vain.”
I shake my head.
He grabs both my hands into his and brings them to his lips before dropping a soft kiss against them. “I love you so much, Harley.”
“Swoon,” someone says.
“You know me. I’m a greedy bastard. Having you as my girlfriend isn’t enough.”
He drops to one knee.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
A lump forms in my throat as the threat of tears tingles my nose. I wiggle it to keep the floodgates from opening.
“Harley, when I said I wanted you to help me write the last page of my book, I meant it.”
A riot of emotions courses through me, causing my lower lip to tremble.
“Loving you healed something inside me I didn’t even know needed healing.”
A tear rolls down my cheek.
“I know you sometimes think you’re a hot mess, but I’d rephrase that. You’re hot, no messing.”
A small laugh bubbles out of me.
He winks. “And I have no problem being in love with your beautiful mess. There isn’t anyone in this world I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”
His sweet words touch the deepest parts of my soul.
My tears are free flowing.
He attempts to brush them away, but it’s in vain.
Other than my boyfriend’s beautiful words filling the bookstore, it’s as if everyone here is holding their breath.
I find my voice. “Falling in love with you, Kaz, was like going blind into a book without reading the blurb, not knowing it will become your next book hangover and your fave read of all time.”
“So, it’s a happy ever after for us.”
“I’m yours forever.” I smile.
“Good because I want to wake up every day wrapped around you,” he says. “I want to protect you, cherish you, and worship you. I'm yours, Harley. Forever.”
Forget about being an author, this guy is a poet.
“Harley McKenzie Lancaster, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Ye—yes, Kaz. I want nothing more than to be yours forever.”
He stands up and embraces me in his arms. “You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.” He crushes my lips in a passionate kiss to the soundtrack of roaring applause.
My feet are no longer touching the ground.
He pulls away from me, but I’m still floating.
“I can’t propose without a ring—”
“It’s okay—”
“No, it isn’t. My girl deserves a rock.”
Giddy energy zips through me.
He lifts his eyes over my head. “Will my ring bearers come out.”
Ring bearers?
I flip around and nearly tumble backwards.
A Hispanic beauty with long dark, curly hair that looks a lot like my bestie steps on stage, holding one of her two-year-old triplets, followed by her hunk of a husband, holding the other two boys.
All three little munchkins with dark blue eyes and wild curls that have been tamed for the occasion are wearing ivory shorts and tiny color-coding jackets—navy-blue, forest green, and light blue with matching bow ties.
They’re holding onto a small gift bag with tissue paper looped around their arms. It’s totally adorable, but that’s not enough for me to let the betrayal slide.
I squint at my best friend, my lips pursed.
I was at her place earlier today. She could’ve given me a heads up.
She flashes me a row of pearly white teeth.
My ass she couldn’t make it.
After the birth of her babies, Ciara and her husband moved back to New York since the US division of Nikolaj’s sports gaming company was blowing up on this side of the pond.
The thrill of having my bestie living in the same city has been incredible.
She's always been so good when I was dealing with shit and that didn't change when I confessed all my family’s sins. My bestie still loves me.
This morning’s brunch at her place wasn’t only about celebrating the fact that my two crooked former business partners were arrested on Friday in China after stealing another passenger’s monogram suitcases, just to find out they contained an obscene amount of cocaine.
With a smile illuminating her gorgeous face, Ciara sashays towards us in a spectacular violet midi dress. She reaches into her ample cleavage and produces a small box. “With three curious little explorers, it was the only hiding spot I could think of.”
A watery laugh escapes me as I swipe under my eyes.
That move is so Ciara.
“I love my boys to death, but no way in hell was I going to entrust this precious gem to them. The bags they’re holding contain animal zoo crackers. They’re none the wiser.” She winks.
I giggle.
She hands Kaz the small black box with gold lettering.
Harry Winston.
Holy. Shit.
When he opens the box, my hands fly to cover my mouth, as my eyes zoom in on a sparkling rock.
Kaz plucks it out of the box and takes hold of my left hand. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Harley,” he says slipping on the dazzler of a ring.
Heat blooms across my chest. “It’s beautiful.”
“You like it?”
I extend my arm, admiring my eye-popping emerald cut engagement ring. “I freaking love it.” I don’t deserve this perfect life with Kaz, and I thank God, the Universe, and all the angels up above every day for him storming back into my life when I was at my lowest.
“I couldn’t have done it without your best friend,” he says.
I glance at her.
She blows me kisses with one hand.
Her little one stares at his mom and mimics her.
The other two boys follow his lead.
The crowd laughs.
The triplets giggle, wiggling in their parents’ arms.
Too cute for words.
Kaz squeezes my hand. “I can’t wait for us to have beautiful babies, Harley. You’re going to be a great mom.”
My heart soars. “And you’re going to be an amazing dad.”
His hands cup my face, before his mouth devours mine.
This man has made all the dreams I never dared to dream come true.