Epilogue
Caden
Five months later
I make my way around the hood of my truck, glancing at the summer storm overhead. The clouds are grey and thunderous blue, and there’s a light drizzle in the town square, but the temperature is mild in Kentucky so I’m wearing a short-sleeved black shirt without a jacket.
I tug the fitted fabric away from my chest and roll my shoulders, feeling the stitching strain.
After our Frozen Four win in February and the training that I’ve been doing ahead of taking on the role of Captain, I’m on the ice most days a week, and our team regimen is stronger than ever.
I push my hand through my hair, slowly smoothing it back, and then I pull open the door to the passenger side of my truck.
And the second that Winter peeks up at me, I can’t fight back my smile.
I hold out my palm, taking her hand, and she laughs as she tip-toes down from the raised step, her pink cowgirl boots hitting the blacktop as I push her door closed with the swell of my bicep.
“It’s going to pour down,” she says softly, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, glancing down at her as I lock up the truck and sharing a smile as we cross to the sidewalk.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice deepening as I look her over, and my heart pounds in my chest as I think about what we’re about to do.
What I’m about to do.
What she asked me for, all those months ago.
I reach my free hand into my back pocket, checking that the notepad is safe and secure, and then I tug at the neckline of my shirt, the building adrenaline making me agitated.
I’m nervous. There’s no denying it. But I need to calm down before we reach the parlour.
“Caden,” Winter whispers.
I glance down at her and relax a little.
And then she gives me a dimpled smile, twists around, and bites my bicep.
I laugh gruffly, loving the sensation, and I exhale with gratitude because I know that she’s distracting me.
So I thread my fingers through her blown-out curls and tilt her toward me as I hunch down and kiss her.
She laughs happily, kissing me back, and I groan quietly as I gather her against me, picking her off the ground and kissing her deeper, lost in the feel of her body pressed up against mine.
It’s mid-afternoon and pre-rainstorm so the town square is completely deserted, but I glance over my shoulder with a heaving chest before I squeeze her ass in the palm of my hand.
“Caden!” she giggles, and I smirk down at her as the rain starts to fall, setting her down as she shields her eyes and standing to my full height so that I tower over her.
“Come on, cowgirl,” I say teasingly, splaying one palm around her waist, and I pull open the door beside us, our secret shelter from the pattering rain.
She twists her lips, hiding her smile, and then she jumps up to kiss me again, the excitement of what we’re about to do affecting her as much as it’s affecting me.
I chuckle roughly, gripping her hips, and then I walk her backwards into Cole’s studio.
Because it’s finally happening.
I’m going to give Winter her first tattoo.
Cole looks up from behind the counter, smiling and on his feet as soon as he sees us.
“Hey,” he says deeply, leaning down to give Winter a hug before clapping my fist, and then we’re walking to the room in the back, the warm ambience a familiar comfort.
“You nervous?” he asks Winter, grinning as she clambers onto the seat.
She smiles playfully and slides me a look. “Not as nervous as him.”
I smirk down at her as she wiggles her boots, and I take the seat beside her, clasping my hands.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I’ve been nervous about us doing this. But I’ve been practising the design for a while, so I know that we’re good to go.”
“You’ve been practicing?” Cole asks, and his brow lifts when I pull out the notepad, brushing my thumb along the edge and fanning out the pages, showing him my progress.
And when I hear Winter’s gentle gasp, I glance down at her, my cheekbones heating.
Because, yeah, I’ve been trying to nail this tattoo for five months straight without telling anyone about it.
As soon as Winter told me what she wanted, I bought a notepad that same morning, the double-meaning behind her design too fucking perfect to be true.
A tattoo after my namesake.
A tattoo because my name is Hart.
“Oh my God,” she whispers softly, and my heart skips a beat when her eyes meet mine.
“Here,” I rumble quietly, and I hand her the notepad so that she can flick through the pages.
Through the hundreds of hand-sketched love-hearts, each one arched and curved more perfectly than the last.
“It’s nothing,” I add quickly, gauging her reaction as my cheekbones heat, and then I drop my gaze to my clasped fists, waiting for her to tell me what she thinks.
“Caden,” she says gently, and I glance up at her as my heart jackhammers in my chest. “I can’t believe that you did this. This is the most amazing gift ever.”
“It’s nothing,” I rumble again, but when she reaches for my nape with one of her hands, I hunch forward so that she can grip me, and I smile down at my fists as she kisses the tip of my cheek. “Thanks,” I mumble quietly, giving her a once-over as she resettles in her seat.
And in her pink cowgirl boots and that fitted yellow sundress, Winter really is the finest thing that I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“You ready?” Cole asks her gently, settling into the seat beside mine so that he can guide the process, knowing how determined I am to do this right but providing support in case it’s necessary.
“Yeah,” Winter tells him, biting into her smile as she meets my eyes, and I leash my fingers protectively through hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze as Cole gets everything ready.
“So, Caden’s gonna sketch the tat onto the area first and, once it’s got your seal of approval, he’ll be good to go,” Cole explains.
Winter squeezes my hand and says, “Okay.”
“So, where do you want it?” he asks calmly.
And she doesn’t hesitate. “On my ankle.”
My eyes fly to hers, because this is the one thing that we didn’t talk about, and Winter gives me another squeeze as my chest heaves up and down.
“Winter,” I rumble quietly, and she looks up at me from under her lashes.
“Yes?” she asks softly.
I lower my voice. “Are you sure?”
Because not only is your ankle one of the most painful places to get tattooed… it’s such a sacred part of Winter.
It’s where she has her scar.
She nods trustingly and I hold her tighter. “I want to replace the old memory with a way better one.”
I breathe deeply as I search her eyes, and then I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles.
“That sounds perfect,” I rumble gently, and we share a smile as I pat my thigh.
She peeks down at it. “What?”
I grin back at her. “Boots up here, cowgirl.”
Winter laughs, lifting her legs, and I run my palm down her calf until I reach her boot, easing it slowly away from her ankle as she bites her teeth into her beautiful smile.
Cole watches in understanding silence, his gaze flicking between Winter’s face and her ankle. Then he gestures to it with his chin, his voice deep as he asks, “Can I?”
Winter nods and Cole leans closer, silently making sure that the area is good for inking, taking in the faint pink line on her ankle and the smooth fair skin on both sides of it.
“I want the heart beside it, and the skin has healed so it should be fine,” Winter whispers, the gentle quiver in her voice telling me that she’s scared Cole will deny her.
But he looks up at her and nods, saying, “The skin’s perfect. It’ll work just fine.”
Winter exhales with relief and picks up my sketchpad as we start sanitising her skin, Cole telling me what to do and then watching over me to make sure that I’ve got it right.
Then he hands me a purple pen so that I can do a gentle pre-sketch before we use the needle.
“Okay?” I ask Winter, looking up for her confirmation before I start, and she clutches the sketchpad tight against her chest, blushing with nervousness as she smiles and nods.
“Yeah,” she says softly, and then she bursts out laughing as the pen touches her skin, making me instantly pause and chuckle, saying, “Okay, try not to shake too much, baby.”
“Sorry,” she rasps, biting her teeth into her bottom lip, and trying not to giggle as I brush the pen across her ankle. “It tickles,” she admits, and I glance up at her with a knowing grin.
Because, as much as Winter has always been wary of her scar, I’ve always given it as much affection as every other part of her. Kissing it while she screams with laughter and brushing it with the bristles of my stubble.
And, from the look in her beautiful eyes, I know that she’s thinking the exact same thing.
“Enjoy the tickling while it lasts,” Cole says, spreading out his thighs as he watches me work. He gives her an earnest look as he admits, “The ankle can be a real sensitive spot when it comes to the needle.”
Winter shakes her head, smiling as she tells him, “I’ve been through worse.”
I finish the last line, connecting the curve, and set the pen down on the counter, my gaze riveted on Winter’s face as she twists her leg to inspect the heart.
“It’s so delicate,” she says softly, her eyes flashing to mine with the cutest smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her, my hand finding hers as I watch her inspect it.
“Is the size right?” I ask, my gaze flicking back to the heart to make sure it’s perfect, and I trace my other thumb around the area, my chest heaving at how right it looks there.
My name on her body – an intimate secret for just the two of us.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers back to me, and our gazes meet as my chest expands.
“It looks so good on you,” I admit, and she bites her smile at how deep my voice has gone.
I clear my throat and drop my gaze, willing myself to keep it together just a little bit longer.
“Ready for the real thing?” Cole asks, and I squeeze Winter’s fingers with mine as he shows her the needle.