Epilogue
One Year Later
The sharp pock of pickleballs hitting paddles that annoyed so many had become my favorite Saturday morning sound.
We waited on the clubhouse patio, watching as Gideon finished his weekly game with half the Barracudas roster, sweat glistening on his forearms as he executed a perfect cross-court winner.
Being team captain suited him. He’d convinced his players that the hand-eye coordination developed from pickleball would translate to better puck handling, and now their Saturday morning “optional” training had become the hottest ticket at the club.
“Ten-zero-one!” Owens called out, serving to Jameson, who was partnered with Morgan. Even the rookie had finally caved to peer pressure.
“I still can’t believe professional hockey players voluntarily play pickleball.” Goldie slid into the wicker chair beside me, her ring catching the Florida sun and casting prisms across our white tablecloth.
A waitress, a cute girl with a french braid, appeared with fresh mimosas and a Shirley Temple for Olive.
The crystal glasses sweated with the humidity.
Around us, the usual Saturday crowd of country club members nursed their drinks and picked at eggs Benedict while pretending not to stare at the hockey players.
“They all secretly love it.” I took a sip of my lemon water, watching Gideon high-five Owens after their victory. “How’s the dissertation coming?” Goldie was working on her PhD.
“Slowly. I’m analyzing the psychological benefits of cross-training with non-traditional sports.” She grinned and adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses. “Guess who my primary case study is?”
“Let me think…a certain hockey captain who discovered pickleball during concussion recovery?”
“Bingo. Speaking of school, how are your classes going?”
“Really good, actually.” I pulled out my phone to show her my latest grades. They were much better than the first time I’d tried college.
“I could help you with your next paper if you want. I’ve been drowning in academic writing for three years now, and I think I’ve finally figured out how to do it.”
“That would be amazing. The statistical analysis section is kicking my ass.”
The games were wrapping up below us. Gideon’s team had won, naturally, and he was doing that thing where he tried to look modest.
“There’s my beautiful wife.” Ace’s voice boomed across the patio as he bounded up the stone steps. He dropped a kiss on Goldie’s head before claiming the chair across from us, reaching immediately for the water pitcher.
“How’d you do?” Goldie asked.
“Got absolutely destroyed by my older brother. The man’s ruthless on any court with a net.”
Gideon appeared moments later, that satisfied grin, the same one he got in the bedroom, spreading across his face as he spotted me.
Heat pooled low in my belly. Would I ever not get turned on by his smile?
I stood to kiss him, tasting salt on his lips.
Even after a year, the man still gave me butterflies.
“Hi, beautiful.” He pulled out my chair for me. As I sat, he whispered in my ear, “I love you.”I turned and mouthed the words back to him.
“Olive, how was your lesson this morning?” He squeezed Olive’s shoulder before dropping into the seat next to me.
“Amazeballs.” She gripped her fancy drink with two hands and took a sip. “I might make the tournament team when I turn seven.”
“That is amazeballs,” Gideon replied.
Before he could continue, Izzy and Kensie materialized at our table. Designer-clad vultures, they were. Since I’d gotten together with Gideon, they’d been nice to me and determined I was worthy of their gossip circle.
It was a club that I had no desire to join.
“Gideon.” Around us, other diners paused their conversations to eavesdrop. “Sorry to interrupt, but have you thought about my proposal?”
She’d cornered him last week about setting up some of the racket club women to play matches with his players, but we all knew what they really wanted.
“Sorry, Kensie.” Gideon draped his elbow over the back of his chair. “The team sessions are Barracuda only.”
“Pity.” Izzy examined her nails. “Who’s the new guy? The tall one with the dark hair?” She gestured toward the courts, where the players were packing up their gear.
“That’s Morgan. He’s not a member; he can only play during the Barracuda time slot.” He shot down the chance of the woman playing with the rookie before they could even ask.
“Is the blond one married?” She pointed at Jameson, who was currently being eye-fucked by half the women on the patio.
“Very.” Gideon’s patience was wearing thin; the muscle in his jaw twitched. My boyfriend was done with the conversation.
“Speaking of married men.” Kensie leaned closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Have you heard about Chelsea and Preston?”
I didn’t want to participate in their games, but getting them to spill their gossip was the fastest way to make them leave. “What about them?”
“Caught in the equipment shed last week. By his wife.” Kensie’s eyes gleamed with delight. “Poor Catherine finally has proof of what everyone’s been whispering about for months.”
These women would cannibalize their own friends for entertainment. “What’s going to happen to Chelsea?”
“Divorce papers were filed yesterday. She’s losing her membership and half her assets.” Izzy’s voice held no sympathy. “Play with fire, get burned.”
The ladies drifted away toward their next victims, leaving stunned silence in their wake.
“That’s some serious karma,” Ace said, reaching for a dinner roll from the bread basket. “Wasn’t Chelsea the one who kicked the ball onto your court?”
“Never proved it,” I replied. Although we all knew the truth.
“Justice served.” Gideon’s thumb traced circles on my bare shoulder. “Speaking of drama, how are things with your family situation, Goldie?”
She dabbed her lips with her linen napkin. “Dad and Mel got engaged last week.”
“What?” Ace nearly choked on his water. “You didn’t tell me!”
“I’m telling you now. They’re getting married next spring, and they want us to help plan the wedding.” Her smile seemed genuine. “Turns out I was right about them being perfect together. Once I gave them my blessing, they couldn’t contain themselves anymore.”
“So the family drama is officially over?” I asked.
“Completely resolved. Mel’s going to be my stepmother, which should be weird but actually feels perfect. And Dad’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. Oh my God.” Goldie’s attention suddenly shifted to something over my shoulder, her face lighting up like Christmas morning. “Ace, look!”
They both bolted from the table, rushing toward the putting green, where a fluffy malamute puppy was wreaking havoc, chasing golf balls and tugging on the putting members’ pants.
“Can I go see the puppy too?” Olive started to push her chair out.
“Sure, sweetheart.”
But Gideon’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Before you go, I wanted to ask your mom something important.”
Olive’s grin told me she was already in on whatever was happening. My pulse quickened.
“I’ve been thinking about my house. It’s big and empty, and I’m tired of staring at white walls. I need life in that house.” His gold-flecked brown eyes found mine. “I need you and Olive there.”
The words hung between us. The club buzzed with Saturday afternoon energy, but everything faded around us.
“Are you asking us to move in with you?”
“I’m asking both of you to make it our home. Olive gets her own room, her own bathroom, space for all her sports gear. There’s the pool, room for sleepovers…” His thumb brushed across my knuckles. “I want to wake up with you every morning, not just most mornings.”
My throat tightened with emotion. “What about the cats? C.C. and Pussy will hate each other.”
“We’ll figure it out. Worst-case scenario, we have the most expensive pet segregation system in Florida.”
“I should probably ask Olive what she thinks.” Though her excited bouncing told me everything I needed to know.
“He already asked me, Mom!” She could barely contain herself. “I said yes!”
Gideon smiled and leaned down to kiss me, his lips warm and sure against mine.
Ace and Goldie returned with the puppy squirming in Goldie’s arms, both of them grinning like idiots.
“Did you ask her?” Goldie demanded.
“I did.” I replied. Piper still hadn’t said yes, only Olive. “What do you say Pipes?”
Dimples dented her rosy cheeks. “Yes, Gideon. Olive and I would love to move in with you.”
“She said yes.”
“Finally! You two are perfect together.” She scratched behind the puppy’s ears. “And Gideon, please let Piper add some color to that sterile house of yours.”
A year ago, I’d been scrubbing toilets and dreading each new day. Now, I had my dream job, was halfway through my degree, and was about to move in with a man who made me feel like the luckiest woman alive.
“Can I paint?” I asked.
“You can paint every damn surface in that house if you want. Olive can even do hers bright pink.”
Olive squealed and clapped her hands. “Gideon, you’re forgetting the best part!”
His face went slightly pale. “There’s one more thing.”
Something in his tone made my stomach flip. “What?”
“It might be chaotic for the first few weeks. You know, adjusting to living together…”
“I can handle chaos. It’s the cat situation I’m worried about.”
He rubbed the back of his neck—his nervous tell. “Your daughter drives a hard bargain.”
“Gideon?”
He reached over and took the puppy from Goldie’s arms, holding the wiggling furball between us, shielding me from what he was about to say.
“Olive only agreed to move in with us if we got a dog.”
The puppy chose that moment to lick Gideon’s nose. He winced and wiped his face with his hand. I took the puppy and squeezed him tightly. “Well, I guess it’s welcome to the family, little guy.” I kissed its fluffy head.
Olive squealed, and I swore that a tear dropped from Ace’s eye.
Gideon held my hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “Now, I have one condition.”
“What’s that?” I buried my face in the puppy’s fur, inhaling his puppy scent.
“Olive doesn’t get to name the dog.”
Olive shrugged. The rest of us, the ones who got the joke, broke out into laughter. It was easily one of the best moments of my life.
We’d lost the tournament last year, in the worst way possible. But sitting here now, with my new found family, this was what winning looked like.
What did Piper and Gideon’s moving day look like?
Cat wars, puppy chaos, and why the barely unpacked a single box. Sign up for my newsletter and get the steamy bonus scene here.
Need more hot hockey players?
Keep reading for a sneak peek of the Hockey Royals Series.
Meet the Captain of the New York Thunder, Colton King, aka The Puck King. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because his sister Everleigh, saved the day in Pickled.