Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Sadie
Hockey Men Invasion
Soon, the line outside of Sweet Seasons Bakery stretches halfway down Main Street by seven-thirty on Saturday morning.
Again.
I stand behind the expanded front counter holding a tray of maple pecan bars while tourists openly try to photograph the mural wall that says:
WELCOME TO THE HOCKEY BAKERY
Honestly, Briar Cove has become emotionally unmanageable. Our “hockey man” continues to thrill the town. Who would have guessed it would last this long?
“Mommy,” Jillie whispers dramatically beside the espresso machine, “those women are pretending to order muffins while actually staring at Colby.”
I glance toward the front windows.
Sure enough, four women in Frostholm Blizzards scarves are absolutely pretending to discuss cinnamon scones while very obviously watching my boyfriend carry flour sacks through the kitchen doorway.
To be fair:
he’s wearing a dark Henley
his sleeves are pushed up
he’s laughing at something Toby said
and he looks unfairly attractive holding fifty pounds of bread flour
So honestly, I understand them.
I just wish they’d stop knocking over the napkin station.
“I can still hear you,” Colby calls from the kitchen.
Jillie gasps. “Hockey hearing.”
“Very advanced condition.”
Toby appears immediately behind him carrying approximately fourteen boxes and somehow still talking at full volume. “I’m telling you right now,” he announces to the bakery at large, “the goat at the petting zoo was emotionally hostile.”
Mrs. Bellamy doesn’t even look up from frosting cupcakes. “That’s because animals sense weakness.”
“I once blocked a slapshot with my face.”
“The goat remains unconvinced.”
Jillie laughs so hard milk nearly comes out her nose.
***
So, one year later, this is somehow my life now.
And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Sweet Seasons officially doubled in size three months ago after tourist traffic became completely ridiculous. Apparently, people really will drive three hours for cinnamon rolls, hockey sightings, and the possibility of witnessing Toby Donovan accidentally break furniture again.
The bakery expansion added: a second seating area, a bigger prep kitchen, extra ovens, a massive picture window overlooking Main Street, and a cozy upstairs reading loft Mrs. Bellamy calls “emotionally literary,”
Colby quietly paid for half the renovations without ever telling anyone. I only found out because contractors accidentally sent invoices to my house instead of his by mistake.
The bell over the bakery door jingles again.
Another tourist family enters carrying Blizzards merchandise and enough excitement to power a small city. The little boy spots Colby instantly and gasps loud enough to startle nearby customers.
“THAT’S HIM.”
Colby looks up from unpacking supplies and immediately smiles. Not celebrity polite. Real. The little boy nearly faints.
I still haven’t gotten used to watching people fall in love with the version of Colby I already know.
The real version.
He’s the one who fixes broken equipment before anyone asks, remembers every customer’s coffee order, folds Jillie’s hockey jerseys straight from the dryer because “they wrinkle weird,” and still shows up at five in the morning to help me prep dough even after road trips.
The headlines eventually calmed down.
Mostly.
The internet still calls us America’s favorite hockey family
Toby framed the article. Unfortunately.
Across the bakery, Caleb Hart sits in the reading corner pretending to read a mystery novel while very obviously watching the bookstore owner arranging displays across Maple Street.
Grumpy goalie behavior.
“Just ask her out,” Liam says while stealing whipped cream directly from a mixing bowl.
Caleb doesn’t look up from his book. “I’d rather fight a bear.”
“That can be arranged,” Toby offers helpfully.
Liam turns back toward me. “By the way, the videographer from the Winter Festival is coming later.”
His expression immediately changes. Too casual. Too innocent.
Ah. Interesting.
“Her name is Brooke,” Jillie says loudly. “And Liam combed his hair twice before she came last time.”
Liam points accusingly. “Tiny traitor.”
“I observe things.”
“Unfortunately,” Colby mutters.
I grin into my coffee.
One year later, this team still behaves like overgrown teenagers with access to professional sports contracts.
Honestly?
Briar Cove adores them.
The Frostholm Blizzards unofficially invaded the town over the past year.
Several more players bought lake cabins near Colby’s place, and the community rink expanded youth programs.
The annual Winter Lights Festival now includes a celebrity charity skate that Mrs. Bellamy treats like the Olympics.
And somehow the entire thing feels weirdly perfect.
“Mommy!”
Jillie races into the bakery from skating lessons wearing her hockey gear and approximately zero balance.
Colby immediately reaches out on instinct before she trips over her own shoes.
“Easy there.”
“I did TWO STOPS.”
“Very impressive.”
“And Coach said my passing is aggressive.”
Colby looks alarmingly proud. “That’s my girl.”
The words hit me softly right beneath the ribs.
Jillie beams so brightly I think she could power Main Street by herself.
***
Every Saturday morning Colby and Liam coach little-kid hockey at Briar Cove Ice Center.
He claims it’s because “kids are less dramatic than professional athletes.”
The children worship him, Jillie especially.
“My Colby taught me backwards skating,” she informs a customer proudly.
“Your Colby?” the woman asks with a smile.
Jillie nods seriously. “Yes. He’s permanent.”
The entire bakery goes quiet for half a second. My heart physically aches. Because one year ago she whispered terrified questions about whether he’d leave without saying goodbye.
Now she says permanent like she totally believes it.
Across the kitchen, Colby goes very still. Then he walks over and kisses the top of Jillie’s helmet gently.
“Very permanent,” he agrees softly.
Oh man…I still love him so much it feels overwhelming sometimes.
That evening, Briar Cove gathers near the frozen lake for the annual winter bonfire festival.
The whole town glows beneath string lights and snowfall.
Children skate on the rink while music drifts across the ice. Couples huddle beneath blankets near fire pits. Someone starts a snowball fight near the docks where Toby escalates it into an international incident within minutes.
Jamie quietly helps volunteers stack folding chairs after the fundraiser dinner while pretending not to notice half the town mothers who are trying to set him up with daughters and nieces.
Leader behavior.
Liam flirts shamelessly with Brooke while she films bonfire footage for the town tourism board.
Caleb still hasn’t asked out Brooke, the bookstore owner.
Coward.
Mrs. Bellamy snuggles with her hubby under a mountain of wool blankets.
And beside me, Colby sits near the fire with Jillie asleep against his shoulder wrapped in one of his oversized Blizzards hoodies.
The sight still wrecks me. Not dramatically anymore, just deeply. Steadily.
It’s like love has settled permanently into the foundation of my life.
I look at the diamond on my left finger as I curl deeper beneath Colby’s jacket while snow drifts softly across the frozen lake. A promise of what is to come – what has already come.
His arm tightens automatically around my shoulders as he tells me one more time how much he loves me.
Comfort. Home. Peace.
A year ago, all of this would’ve terrified me; now it feels inevitable somehow.
Colby stares out across the lake quietly while the bonfire crackles gold against the snow.
“What?” I ask softly.
He glances at me. And there it is again. That look. The one that still feels like being chosen.
“I used to think success looked different,” he admits quietly.
He watches teammates laughing near the fire. Jillie sleeping safely against him. The glowing lights across Briar Cove. “Headlines,” he says softly. “Contracts. Fame. Bigger cities.”
I rest my head against his shoulder. “And now?”
His gaze settles on us. On this. “I think it looks like small hockey skates by the front door,” he says quietly. “And bakery mornings. And you yelling at me for eating frosting directly from mixing bowls.”
“I was protecting public health.”
“Heroic.”
I laugh softly. Snow falls harder around us while the bonfire glows warm against the dark winter sky.
Jillie shifts sleepily against Colby’s chest but never fully wakes. Completely safe. Completely loved.
And watching them together beneath the lights of Briar Cove, I finally understand something I spent years afraid to believe.
Some people do stay. Some people choose you again and again until trust stops feeling terrifying.
Colby presses a kiss gently into my hair.
And now, home feels permanent.