Epilogue
CHELSEA
The First Annual Wolfpack Community Foundation Summer Street Hockey Classic sold out in forty-eight hours, with proceeds going toward the construction of a new community rink on the Northside.
We’ve taken over Caras Park for the day, and the whole place is alive with laughter and trash talk and the smack and scrape of hockey sticks on concrete.
Local food trucks are parked along the perimeter, and kids in oversized hockey jerseys are running around everywhere, playing street hockey, getting autographs, and slurping on ice cream cones.
I adjust my sunglasses as I make my way through the vendor booths and check in with my volunteers. The support for this event has been overwhelming, and I’m so proud of this city.
I wave to Peyton, who’s wielding spray bottles and washcloths at the temporary tattoo booth, emblazoning cheeks and foreheads and biceps with Montana Wolfpack logos.
A double-check of my timeline says I need to get the final round of the autograph sessions underway, so I head over there, pleased to see everyone who’s supposed to be at the table is already there.
I set my clipboard down next to the cooler and grab an armful of water.
“Great event, Chelsea. Seriously. This is so much better than the gala stuff.” Parker Nash’s compliment warms me, which is saying something, considering August is in full effect and I’m sweating through my sunscreen.
“Thanks, Parker.” I hand him a chilled bottle of water, and make sure he’s got a couple Sharpies, then do the same for Liam Yarrow, and then for the rest of the table before I’m standing in front of the captain.
“No Sid today?”
Fletcher Ryan grimaces. “Apparently street hockey is lame now.”
I give him a sympathetic wince as I hand him his water before the next round of autograph seekers is released.
“Hang in there. You’re going to miss these pre-teen years soon enough.”
“Don’t remind me,” he jokes.
Grabbing my clipboard, I head over to the practice stations, where kids are getting hands-on coaching from their favorite players.
There’s a giant whoop at the fastest shot booth, and I turn to see Jace Decker and Kane Carter making a ruckus as a kid decked out in Wolfpack gear grins shyly at their over-the-top celebration of his accomplishment.
“That was amazing!” Jace cups his hands around his mouth. “Rookie!”
He waits for Josh Shepherd to look up from where he’s manning the stickhandling obstacle race.
“Get over here!” Jace looks down at the boy, who must be around twelve. “It’s Travis, right?”
The kid nods, beaming that his idol remembers his name.
“Travis is gonna teach you how to do a proper slap shot!”
I chuckle to myself. Even after a full season, Shep can’t escape the rookie mantle, but he huffs good-naturedly as he makes his way over and takes the stick Kane holds out for him.
“All right. Let’s see what you’ve got, Travis.”
Backup goaltender Alex Dubois is helping to manage the lineup of kids dying for a chance to try on a glove and blocker and wield a goalie stick.
They’ll each get a chance to make a killer save on a Wolfpack player.
Cody McGillis and Matti Pulkkinen are at the ready, stickhandling as they wait to test the fledgling netminders.
The screaming chaos at the next booth convinces me that Chase Hawkins is the perfect person to man the celly station, egging the kids on to create the most elaborate, crazy goal celebrations as the photographer I hired captures them for posterity.
At the shooting station, more of the guys are busy coaching kids of all ages and skill levels as they take on the dreaded shooter tutor. But amidst the chaos, it’s Mason who catches my eye.
I watch as he kneels down and helps a little girl fix her grip on the hockey stick. When she tries again, the orange ball rolls straight into the net.
He holds his hand out for a high-five, and she returns it, beaming with pride. Her dad leans in to take a picture of the candid moment, and it makes my heart happy.
Brett was right. These are the moments that you miss out on when you eat dinner with rich people.
Speaking of Brett…
I make my way through the crowd toward the four mini rinks we’ve created using portable boards. The temporary bleachers are full of parents cheering on their kids as they take on the NHL’s best.
I stop at the last one, watching as my gorgeous boyfriend yells at the official.
“C’mon, Ref! Are you blind? She tickled me! That should be a penalty!”
The little girl who barely reaches Brett’s hip giggles as she runs back to high-five her teammates after her go-ahead goal.
“The goal stands,” Cooper decrees, extending his arm. “You got a problem with that, take it up with your goalie.”
Lincoln Kennedy bangs the blade of his stick against each post before he resets for the upcoming face-off.
“So this is going well, huh?”
Lainey glances over at me as she untangles her daughter’s little fist from her ponytail. “Honestly? I was expecting worse from those two.” But her cynical words are belied by the tender look on her face as she takes in her family.
And Brett was worried there wouldn’t be room for him anymore.
I shake my head fondly.
Silly man.
He’s still grumbling as he resets for the face-off. Nik Ehrhoff wins the draw against his seven-year-old opponent cleanly, scooping the orange street hockey ball back to his defenseman before backing up toward the boards. He laughs as a mob of tiny humans swarms Brett.
I reach out and squeeze his bicep.
“Four o’clock. You’d better get going if you want to be at the airport on time.”
Nik startles at the announcement, pulling off his glove and checking his watch. “Thanks for the reminder. I lost track of time. Today’s been great.”
I can’t help my smile. I love how much fun everyone’s having.
“I really appreciate you staying for so long, despite your plane ticket.”
“Big summer plans?” Lainey asks him. “The Maldives? Home to Switzerland?”
He lifts a wry brow. “Michigan.”
Her eyes widen comically. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“It’s a long story,” he tells her, holding out his stick. “You want to sub in?”
The grin that lights her pretty face has hell yes written all over it. Nik’s got a real talent for reading a room.
She holds Chloe in my direction. “Do you mind?”
I accept the adorable bundle without hesitation, juggling the baby and my clipboard. Lainey hops the boards, accepting Nik’s gloves and stick before joining in the game.
Nik joins me on the civilian side of the mini rink, watching as I coax the end of my hair out of Chloe’s mouth. “Thanks for setting things up in Pine Grove.”
He’s helping me pull off a surprise that’s going to make one very special kid incredibly happy, and he’s really gone above and beyond to make it happen.
I smile at him as Chloe bangs her palms against my clipboard. “Thank you for everything you’ve done to fit this into your busy week. You must be excited to go back to where your hockey career got started?”
A look I can’t quite parse crosses his handsome face. Part wistful, part… dread?
His lips tilt in something that isn’t quite a smile. “See you Wednesday.”
He’s not even out of sight before I hear Lainey following in her brother’s footsteps.
“Are you kidding me, Ref? Did you drop your glasses, or are we not calling too many men anymore?”
The fans are loving it, hooting and cheering as the former Olympian and her Hall-of-Famer husband give the crowd a show.
Chloe bounces excitedly, stretching out her arms, and I know before I look who’s approaching.
“I like your new accessory,” Brett says, pressing a kiss to his niece’s raven hair while she coos at him. “We should steal her. Let’s make a run for it.” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Those two’ll be at it for a while. They won’t even notice.”
Chloe reaches for Brett’s hair, and I laugh. “You want to kidnap your niece?”
“Sure. Taking care of her will be good practice.”
The implication straightens my spine. I have to force myself to breathe.
This man.
I’m so in love with him, and he still manages to make me fall a little deeper each day.
He extricates himself from Chloe’s grabby hands and leans close. “Did I render you speechless, Chels?”
That cocky grin melts me.
I readjust Chloe on my hip and clear my throat, hoping my voice comes out normally.
“That’s just not the kind of baby practice I was expecting you to pitch.”
His eyes darken, and the smolder in them makes me resent the First Annual Wolfpack Community Foundation Summer Street Hockey Classic.
And ten seconds ago, I wouldn’t have thought that possible.
“We’re giving you back to your mommy and daddy, Chloe. No offense, but your Auntie Chelsea just made me an offer I can’t refuse.”
Then he kisses me, full on the lips in front of all of Missoula, pokes Chloe in the belly to make her laugh, and takes off down the boards, calling for his sister to pass to him because he’s open.
The rest of the afternoon flies by, and by the time the cleanup crew arrives, I’m exhausted in the best way.
“You’re sure you don’t mind running point on this?”
Shanna holds out her hand. “Give me the clipboard and get out of here. You did an incredible job today. Everyone was raving, and we had every single reporter in town here. Your dad and Andrew were interviewed so much, soundbites about this event will dominate the local news cycle for the rest of the weekend. Besides,” she says, looking over my shoulder, “looks like you’ve got somewhere to be. ”
I turn to find Brett waiting for me. It still makes my heart flip, the fact that he’s mine.
“Ready to go home?”
With him? Every day for the rest of my life.
I relinquish the clipboard to Shanna and reach for Brett’s hand.
“Ready.”