Chapter 49
Heather
The arena is packed with Aces fans tonight, and the energy is electric. It’s the first playoff game of the season, and everyone knows what’s at stake.
I settle into my seat with April beside me, both of us wearing our matching jerseys with Grant’s number on the back. Mine stretches over my growing bump, which is pretty prominent now at seven months along. April’s is slightly too big, but she insisted on wearing it anyway.
“I lost track of him, Mom. Where did he go?” April leans forward, scanning the ice.
“He’s right there, sweetheart.” I point to the goal where Grant is warming up, stretching and moving through his pre-game routine.
Even from here, I can see the intensity on his face. The focus. The way he moves with such precision and purpose.
Then he does it. Taps his stick against the goal post. Once, twice, three times, and then a fourth.
My heart squeezes.
He started doing four taps instead of three after we found out about the baby.
He said he does one for each of us—him, me, April, and the little bean growing inside me.
It’s such a small thing, but it means everything.
It makes me feel like I’m right there with him on the ice, in his heart, just like he’s always in mine.
“He did the taps!” April claps her hands and grins. “Four taps for our family!”
“I saw.” I smile and rest my hand on my bump. “The baby is cheering too.”
April leans close to my stomach and cups a hand near her mouth. “You hear that, baby? Grant’s gonna win this game for us!”
A few months ago, Grant took me to visit his parents’ grave. It was a quiet, overcast day, and he held my hand the entire drive there. When we arrived, he knelt down and introduced me to them like they were still there, listening to every word.
“Mom, Dad, this is Heather,” he said. “She’s the woman I’m going to marry. The woman who changed everything for me.”
I cried that day, and I start tearing up again every time I think about it. And then he told me something I’ll never forget.
“I know my purpose now,” he said, looking up at me with those intense eyes. “It’s not just hockey. It never was. It’s you. It’s April. It’s our family. Hockey is just a piece of that. A piece I love, but still just a piece.”
I think about that now as I watch him take his position in front of the goal. He’s not just playing for himself tonight. He’s playing for all of us.
The announcer’s voice booms through the arena, introducing the starting lineups. The crowd roars when Grant’s name is called, and April screams louder than anyone around us.
“That’s my Grant!” she yells. “That’s my family!”
I laugh and pull her close, kissing the top of her head. “That’s right, sweetheart. That’s our family.”
The puck drops, and the game begins.
It’s fast and intense from the first second. The opposing team comes out aggressively, testing Grant early with a round of back-to-back shots. But he’s ready. He stops every single one with his signature sharp, controlled movements.
“Yes!” April jumps up out of her seat. “Did you see that save, Mom?”
“I saw it. He’s doing great out there.” My heart is racing, and I’m gripping the armrest so hard my knuckles are white.
The first period is brutal. Both teams fight for every inch of ice, and the hits are hard and loud. Grant faces shot after shot, and each time he makes a save, the crowd explodes.
I wish Margo was here to see this. She’s been on maternity leave for the past month after having her baby, and I miss seeing her running around frantically at these games.
But we’ve been texting constantly, sending each other photos and updates.
She’s already planning playdates for our kids once the baby is born, and I can’t wait.
The idea of raising our children together, of them growing up as friends and cousins, fills me with so much joy I can barely stand it.
The Aces score midway through the second period, and the arena goes wild. April and I are on our feet, screaming and hugging each other. Grant doesn’t celebrate visibly, but I can see the slight shift in his posture. The silent confidence I love so much.
“We’re winning!” April shouts over the noise. “Mom, we’re winning!”
“I know!” I’m laughing and nearly crying at the same time—thanks, pregnancy hormones. But it’s not the game that’s overwhelming me. It’s how much this all means. The fact that we can build this life together without giving anything up.
We all have each other. April has her friends and is becoming more and more independent, with her own thoughts and ideas.
I still have my job helping other women who are getting out of shitty situations, and Grant still has his first love, hockey.
This is exactly what our family dynamic is supposed to look like.
The third period is even more intense. The other team is desperate to tie it up with two minutes left, and the pressure on our guys is relentless.
Grant faces three rapid-fire shots in the final minute. He stops the first with his glove. The second with his pad. The third bounces off his chest, and Theo clears it down the ice just as the buzzer sounds.
The Aces win.
The crowd goes absolutely crazy. April is jumping up and down, screaming so loud I can barely hear myself think. I’m cheering with my hand pressed to my bump as the baby kicks against my palm like they’re celebrating too.
On the ice, Grant’s teammates swarm him, pounding on his helmet and hugging him. But through all the chaos, his eyes find mine in the stands.
He points his stick at me. At us.
And I know exactly what he’s saying.
This is for you. For all of you.
I press my hand to my heart and mouth the words, “I love you.”
He nods, just once, before his teammates pull him back into the celebration.
“Mom, can we go down to the lounge and wait for him?” April tugs on my jersey. “Please?”
“Let’s wait until the crowds clear a bit, okay? Then we’ll go.”
She nods, then joins back in with the rest of the crowd to cheer for Grant and the rest of the team.
Twenty minutes later, we make our way down to the family and friends lounge. It’s packed with players’ partners, kids, and parents, and everyone is still ecstatic from the win.
The door swings open, and Grant walks in. His hair is still damp from the shower, and he’s changed into his usual post-game suit. His eyes scan the room until they land on us, and his entire face lights up.
He makes a beeline straight for me, weaving through the crowd without stopping to talk to anyone. The second he reaches us, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me hard.
“You were so good out there,” I murmur against his lips.
“I had good motivation.” He pulls back just enough to look down at my bump, then reaches down to rest his hand there. “How’s our little bean?”
“Active. I think they liked the game.”
He grins, then turns to April and scoops her up, swinging her around until she squeals with laughter.
“Did you see me out there?”
“You were the best!” April throws her arms around his neck. “You stopped everything! Every single shot!”
“Well, I had my good luck charms watching.” He sets her down and ruffles her hair. “Ready to head home? It’s past your bedtime.”
April groans. “But I’m not even tired.”
“You will be in about five minutes.” He glances at me, and his voice drops lower so only I can hear. “Besides, I need to get Mama to bed too.”
The way he says “Mama” sends heat straight through me, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I lean in close, until my lips touch his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. About this morning. I can still feel how hard you fucked me, but I want more.”
His grip on my waist tightens. “Oh, hell yes.”
“And did I tell you? I’m not wearing any panties under this jersey.”
His eyes flare with heat, and his jaw clenches. “We’re leaving. Right now.”
He takes my hand and practically hauls me toward the door, with April skipping along beside us, completely oblivious.
“Parker! Leaving already?” Theo calls from across the room. “Don’t you want to celebrate with us?”
“Not tonight,” he answers without slowing down. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Noah laughs. “Remember when you used to rush out after games to study footage? Now look at you.”
“My priorities have changed,” Grant shoots back, but he’s grinning.
“Yeah, we can tell!” Reese adds. “Have fun, you two!”
The guys all laugh and whistle, and I feel my face flush, but Grant just keeps walking, pulling me along with him.
Once we’re in the hallway, with April a few steps ahead of us, he leans down and whispers, “You’re going to pay for that comment about the panties.”
“I’m counting on it.”
His laugh is low and warm, and it fills me with so much happiness I think I might burst.
This is the man I fell in love with. Not the stoic, controlled goalie who kept everyone at arm’s length, but this version—the one who laughs and teases and loves so fiercely it takes my breath away.
I want to make him laugh like that for the rest of our lives.