Chapter 22
As the sky darkened and the crowd began shifting toward the park, Mason led the way toward the spot he’d picked for us.
Sure enough, he’d reserved an entire “VIP section” at the edge of the lawn—blankets spread in a wide semicircle, camp chairs arranged around a portable propane fire pit flickering steady and warm in the middle.
The air had turned crisp, the easy heat of the afternoon traded for the sharp mountain chill that always came after sunset.
Emmy arrived carrying a box from the booster table. “Mayhem hoodies for everyone!” she called as she tossed them to us.
I snagged one midair and handed it to Daisy. “Here. You’re cold.”
She smiled, that small, secret smile, and slid her arms into the oversized green sweatshirt. It was so big on her—just like that day we’d ripped out the kitchen—that I had to look away before thinking too much about it.
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Nope,” I whispered, loud enough for only her to hear. “We talked about this.”
Daisy chuckled, the sound mischievous and soft.
Just then, my Mayhem players came striding across the grass, each one with one of Stevie and Luke’s three kids in tow.
Miles walked hand in hand with Wyatt, both sticky with cotton candy.
Delgado and Reid were locked in a plastic-sword duel, their footwork carrying them closer to the group.
Molly had Harper on her shoulders; the kid slapped a slightly deflated balloon animal against the top of her head.
Jace brought up the rear beside Junie, who was hauling a stuffed cow almost as big as she was. Her hair was windblown, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bright as if she’d just conquered the world.
She broke into a run when she saw me.
“Dad! Look what I won!”
The word hit like a body check to the ribs, sudden and impossible to brace for.
The group froze for half a second. Even Mason stopped talking.
Junie didn’t notice. She stumbled to a stop in front of me, the cow tipping forward to thump into my shins as she wrapped her arms around my waist.
“It’s a cow! I won it with Jace at the ring toss! We had to use all our tickets, but I got the last ring myself!”
I crouched to meet her eyes. “That’s a serious trophy, bug.”
“Holy cow,” Mason muttered behind me. “Am I right?”
Tate smacked his stomach. “You’re so dumb.”
Laughter rippled through the group, breaking the moment.
Junie grinned, holding up one floppy ear. “Jace said it’s bigger than Beckett’s bear, so I win!”
Emmy appeared beside us, fishing another hoodie from the box. “Here, honey. This one’s yours.”
Junie lifted her arms, and I tugged it over her head. The hem grazed her shins and the sleeves swallowed her hands. She giggled as I rolled them up so her fingers reappeared.
“There,” I said, straightening the hood. “Perfect fit.”
Her nose scrunched. “I called you Dad.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You did.”
She searched my face. “Is that okay?”
“That’s up to you, kiddo. But I liked it.”
She smiled then—small, shy. “Me too.”
I tugged the hood strings so the fabric bunched around her chin.
“Come on, cowgirl. Let’s get you warm.”
She slipped her hand into mine, dragging the stuffed cow behind her as we walked toward the fire pit. Chairs and blankets glowed in the firelight as everyone settled in.
I sank into a chair beside Daisy, and Junie curled into her lap, the cow wedged between them.
Daisy wrapped an arm around her, rubbing slow circles into her back as Junie launched into a breathless recap of the day.
When Daisy shivered, I snagged a nearby blanket and draped it across them, covering all three of us.
Across the fire, Beckett kicked the back leg out of Mason’s chair just enough that it folded halfway. Mason yelped, catching himself before he hit the grass.
“Real mature,” he snapped, straightening it.
Beckett grinned. “I thought you loved surprises.”
From a few feet over, Lori let out a dry laugh. “You’d think nearly forty years on this earth would’ve taught you two how to share.”
Beside her, Shannon smirked. “They’ll still be fighting over shit in the nursing home.”
“Probably,” Lori said. “Heaven help whoever has to judge the wheelchair races.”
That set everyone off again.
Junie snuggled deeper into her hoodie, face tucked under her aunt’s chin. Daisy leaned into my shoulder, unguarded and easy.
“Hey,” Mason said, glancing around. “Where’s our Finnish giant?”
Beckett frowned. “Mikko was right behind us.”
Shannon didn’t look up from the firelight reflecting off the gold rings on her hands. “His mom called twice, so he went to call her back.”
“From Helsinki?” Beckett asked. “What’s the time difference again?”
“Nine hours!” Junie said, lifting her head.
“I looked it up after he told me where he’s from.
Did you know Helsinki has more public libraries per person than almost any city in the world?
They decided a long time ago that everyone should have free access to knowledge, no matter where they live. I think that’s cool.”
The group stared at her.
“Well, dang, kid,” Mason said. “You’re cuter and smarter than all of us combined.”
Junie beamed and burrowed back into Daisy’s lap. Daisy laughed, one arm tightening around her.
Then the first firework cracked open above the mountains.
A low whistle rippled through the crowd, followed by a collective ooh as red and gold sparks bloomed against the sky.
Junie twisted in Daisy’s arms, pointing. “Dad! Look!”
“I see it, bug,” I said as she waved at the next burst.
The fire pit flickered, reflecting in Daisy’s eyes as she leaned closer, her shoulder pressed to mine. Around us, kids squealed, Mason made exaggerated sound effects, and Tate muttered something about never trusting him again.
A streak of green and white flared in the shape of a heart, and the cheering swelled.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tate muttered, trying not to smile.
Stevie popped up a few blankets over, phone held high. “Okay, okay! Before Mason sets something else on fire, I have news!”
“Is this the part where you tell them you married well?” Luke called, juggling a juice pouch and one overtired toddler.
Stevie grinned. “Correct. And also the part where I say my husband is very handsome and very good with his hands. I mean that in all the ways.”
Luke laughed. “I feel seen.”
She cleared her throat, scrolling.
“We have preliminary numbers in from ticket sales, raffles, booth donations, and sponsorships.”
Tate raised a brow. “You already added that up?”
“Of course I did,” Stevie said. “I’m me.”
“Ladies, gentlemen, hockey players, and assorted small children… as of an hour ago, the Linwood Summer Carnival has raised”—she paused as Mason started a drumroll—“one hundred and forty-two thousand dollars!”
The group erupted.
Beckett whistled. Mason whooped. Tate just stared.
“You’re kidding,” she said.
“Not even a little,” Stevie said. “Every penny goes straight into the rink expansion fund—and thanks to these guys, the sponsorships are still rolling in.”
“Holy—” Tate cut herself off, glancing at the kids. “That’s unreal.”
Stevie’s grin softened as she looked across the circle.
“And none of this would’ve been possible without the woman who made it happen—our very own marketing director, and the newest member of the Moms of Mayhem.”
Applause broke out. Daisy laughed, hands pressed to her face. Junie hugged her tighter.
I leaned in and kissed Daisy’s temple. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
Another firework burst overhead, gold light flashing across Daisy’s face. Her grin was the same as three years ago—the kind that hid nothing.
Eventually, the fireworks faded into smoke and stars. Chairs folded. Kids yawned. The fire pit dimmed as the flame was turned down.
Junie was half asleep in Daisy’s arms, her head lolling against her chest, the stuffed cow drooping beside them.
Mason and Beckett argued about hauling the fire pit back to the truck. Tate and Emmy rolled their eyes. Stevie corralled her kids while Lori and Shannon chuckled on their blanket.
It was perfect. Quiet. Enough.
Until Mikko walked back across the field.
Even in the dark, he looked off—shoulders tight, jaw locked, firelight carving harsh lines across his face.
“About time,” Mason called. “You missed the show.”
Mikko didn’t answer. His gaze swept the group, landing on Shannon. Her smirk faded as she sat straighter.
Beckett lowered the fire pit he was holding. “Everything alright, buddy?”
Mikko swallowed. “I—” He looked down, then up again. “I have a daughter.”
He dropped into a chair we hadn’t folded up yet, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair. Beckett crossed the distance and crouched in front of him.
“What’s happening?” Daisy whispered.
Emmy didn’t look away. “If you’d asked me five minutes ago whether Mikko had a kid, I’d have said no. He hasn’t even been in a relationship for years. Which means nothing—but this is new.”
Shannon helped Lori into her wheelchair, the walk to the cars too much for her Parkinson’s disease. Her eyes never left Mikko.
“So… like a baby?” Jace asked.
“You know as much as I do,” Emmy said, smoothing a hand over Junie’s back. “And yes, I heard that.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Jace said. “Thanks for the cousin… I guess.”
I watched as Beckett pulled Mikko into a hug. The big man folded into it, then lifted his phone, speaking rapidly in Finnish.
Mason and Tate headed toward the parking lot with Lori and Shannon. Stevie and Luke ushered their kids away with help from the team, leaving just us.
“Go,” Emmy said gently. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Don’t let your mom carry the fire pit,” I called to Jace.
He scoffed, then grabbed the handle Mason had carried earlier.
“Goodnight, you three,” Beckett said, mischief back in his voice. “Go home.”
I flicked him off over my shoulder. Daisy laughed.
When my hand dropped back down, she slid her fingers into mine, and I couldn’t help but think this was what home was supposed to feel like.