Epilogue
The Following July
The old dock creaks in the familiar way that welcomes us, but that’s not important.
What’s important is the lake looks exactly how it’s supposed to.
Like July. Wearing Ty’s holey hockey jersey with pride, I lean back, my bare feet dangling inches above the surface.
I hardly take the jersey off when I’m at the house, except for washing it, but it’s by far my favorite thing to lounge in.
“Do you remember,” Ty says, tipping his head back as he relaxes and gazes at the blue sky above, “that time you were wearing Ham’s big flip-flops and you lost your balance and tripped while you were running down this dock, and you dumped your ice water all over me?”
“I did not dump it,” I say, laughing. “I shared it lovingly with you.”
“Oh, is that what you are calling it?”
“Yes, I was being thoughtful.” I grin at the memory. “I remember you laughed so hard, because I fell in the water.”
“I remember thinking”—he glances at me, his eyes soft— “that I was actually a little glad it happened, because you grabbed a towel and tried to help wipe my arm off. I was so shy, I could barely speak. You touching me was too much.”
“Yeah, right.” I tease back. “That was, like, so many years ago. You didn’t like me then. That was the summer you brought that girlfriend here.”
He blinks. “What girlfriend?”
I turn onto my side, propping my head on my hand. “Oh, come on. What was her name? Brinley or was it Brenna? Talk about flip-flops—her high-heel wedges clomped the ground when she walked. Talk about annoying.”
“You’re making this up.” He shakes his head. “She was not my girlfriend.”
“Am not.” I gesture with my hands as I go on, “She had this smile—kind of upside down, only showing her bottom teeth. I couldn’t make that face if I tried.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t remember her at all.”
“Please, now you’re lying, because you know she was annoying! There is no way you could forget the way she clung to you like you were her pet.”
“I genuinely have no idea who you’re talking about,” he says. “But apparently you wrote her autobiography. What’s up with that?”
I shrug, smiling at the lake. “I might have been jealous.”
“Interesting.” He nods. “Maybe I brought her here for that reason.”
“Wait. What?” I whip my head toward him. “So you do remember her! You’re lying. Was she actually your girlfriend?”
He just smiles—the maddening, lazy grin that gives nothing away. “I might have had my own fake-date situation going on—for my very own important reasons.”
“Stop! You did not.” I narrow my eyes as I dip my toes in the water and splash water at him.
He doesn’t even flinch when a generous splash washes over his legs. “I don’t remember exactly anymore, but she’s not important.” He reaches out, brushing the edge of my jersey. “You know,” he says casually, “I wish you wouldn’t wear my name all the time.”
“What does that mean?” I frown. “You gave me this jersey. Are you embarrassed?”
Sighing, he leans forward and grabs something from the cooler at his side. It’s rolled up tight, and he holds it out. “Put this on.”
“I don’t need a towel,” I say automatically.
“It’s not a towel.” He pushes it forward. “This one doesn’t have a hole in it either.”
I stare as my heart sinks. “I love wearing your holey jersey. Why would I want to wear that?”
“Just take it. A friend gave me this one; you should wear it. I’m tired of seeing my name on you."
"What do you mean tired of your name on me?" Half mad, I snatch the jersey and hold it up. As it unrolls, a box lands in my lap—a tiny velvet jewelry box. My lips part in awe as I can’t tear my gaze from it. “Ty, what is that?”
“You know exactly what that is.” He watches me like this is the exact reaction he hoped for. “Open it.”
“I don’t think I can. My hands are frozen.”
Retrieving the box, he opens it and holds it so I can see. My brain tells me the sun is glinting, or something is playing a trick on my eyes, but I stare so long I can’t deny it. It’s a ring.
A thin band set with a single stone—simple, not flashy, but more than enough.
My breath rushes out of me in a whisper.
“Oh.” I look back at him, and memories hit me all at once: scraped knees on this dock, every July we’ve spent here, almosts and what-ifs, and the way he looked that night in the Land Rover when we almost kissed.
“So, ah,” he says, “I think it’s time we give you the same name as me. Then, when you’re wearing my jersey, it’s both our names. What do you think?”
I laugh once at his casual proposal. “You hid a ring in a jersey.”
He shrugs. “Does that surprise you?”
“I need to see the full presentation,” I tease. “Like, you’re going to have to get on a knee for this one.”
He exhales but doesn’t hesitate. One knee hits the dock, and he reaches for my hand, sliding the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. “Lottie, will you marry me?”
Tears well, blurring him and the lake as I hyperfocus on him. “Yes,” I whisper, letting the tears flow freely down my face.
His lazy grin slants on his lips. One hand frames my face; the other swipes at a tear from beneath my eye.
The tenderness steals my breath before our lips even touch.
His mouth finds mine in a kiss that asks and answers all at once.
When we pull back, he motions toward the jersey again. “Put it on.”
“What?” Confused, I grab the purple jersey and hold it up. “Are there earrings in here too?”
“No.” He chuckles, holding out the shirt so I can see it. It’s not anything close to his Minnesota Jersey. Now, I’m confused as to why I’d want a random jersey. I read it once, then again.
“Where’d you even get this jersey?” I ask.
“I told you, a friend gave it to me.” A sly smile spreads on his lips. “Remember Bill Baker? I used to play for him here in Mapleton.”
“Yeah, didn’t he lose the team over some scandal?”
“Yeah, well, his stepson owns it now. Bill still has his hands in it, but he’s starting an NHL expansion team here in Vermont, and I’m on it.”
“Say what?” I swear I see tears glistening in Ty’s eyes as his smile grows wider than ever.
“Yeah, I started hearing rumors when I was in DC, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do—because you were still in DC.
When everything with your mom went down and you chose to come here, I knew what I wanted.
Bill wasn’t ready to sign players yet; he had to pass a character test, and the NHL wasn’t sure they wanted to take a risk on him.
After months of league meetings and board approvals, he finally got the green light and called me last week.
” He gestures to the jersey. “So … what do you say? You put this on, and we make Mapleton our forever home? We buy this place from your parents, and we make July last for ollways.”
For a second, I can’t speak. This dock, this house—they’ve been the beginning and the breaking of so many things in my life.
I look down at the jersey in my hands, then at the ring catching the light, then sweep my gaze back to him.
My throat tightens, but I push through it.
“I say,” I manage, smiling through tears, “I like the sound of that. Ollways July.”
He lets out a breath that turns into a laugh as I pull the jersey over my head.
I barely get it straight before his hands find my waist, and he leans in for another kiss.
From the other side of this dock, and in their pen, Crunch bleats.
I can’t help laughing into Ty’s mouth, and he chuckles against my lips like he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.