Chapter 10
10
JEANNIE
Love and laughter.
Those were the two words Jeannie would use to describe Matthieu’s family—because they loved without hesitation and laughed easily. And now, sitting between them in the limo, she saw exactly where he got it.
From the moment she had been swept into their embrace, she had felt the warmth of their acceptance, a stark contrast to the cold, distant affection she had always known. The hugs had been unreserved, the touches frequent—gentle squeezes on her arm, a reassuring pat on her knee, an unspoken promise that she was already one of them.
It was overwhelming.
Not in a bad way, but in the way that made her chest tighten and her throat burn with unshed emotions. She wasn’t used to this—being welcomed so freely, being wanted.
“So, is he as big of a sentimental dork as what he used to be?” Katie asked, her voice bright with mischief.
Jeannie let out a startled laugh—too quick, too nervous. It was a reflex more than a response, as if her body didn’t quite know what to do with the sudden, affectionate interrogation.
“Ignore her,” Matthieu’s mother said with an easy smile, brushing off the teasing. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
“Me too,” Katie added sincerely, her eyes twinkling with warmth.
The lump in Jeannie’s throat grew tighter. She had braced herself for this meeting, expected awkwardness, maybe a bit of polite formality. But instead, she was being enveloped—folded into their world without hesitation, as if they had been waiting for her all along.
“We were planning on coming to Quebec to catch a game and?—”
“You’re still welcome to,” Jeannie said quickly, almost too quickly.
She didn’t want them to feel like intruders. The idea of them in the stands, cheering beside her, their excitement and energy filling the arena—it was something she had never experienced, but now, she wanted to.
“We don’t want to intrude…” Donna murmured.
“Maybe she wants us to,” Katie teased. “Don’t you remember how stinky Matthieu’s hockey gear can get after practice? Does he still leave his socks everywhere?”
Jeannie felt herself relax, a small smile curving her lips as she nodded. “And shoes.”
Katie groaned dramatically. “Ugh, of course. Some things never change.”
“It wouldn’t be home without those little elements—would it?” Matthieu’s mother said softly, her hand resting lightly on Jeannie’s knee.
The touch was simple. Barely there. But it grounded her.
Home.
She swallowed hard.
Matthieu had done everything he could to make sure she felt included. Loved. That she wasn’t just stepping into a marriage today—she was stepping into a family. A real family.
Her sweet, tender, playful man was wonderful in so many ways. The nervousness in her chest loosened just a little.
“Thank you for talking me down off the ledge that day,” Jeannie whispered, her voice barely above the hum of the limo. She met their eyes, seeing nothing but kindness and understanding reflected back at her.
His mother’s expression softened. “God works in mysterious ways,” she said gently. “Sometimes it’s a moment, sometimes it’s a chance, and sometimes it’s meeting the right person at the right time under specific conditions.”
She’s right.
The thought flickered through Jeannie’s mind, so absolute that it left her breathless.
If it had happened any other way—if she had hesitated, if she had let fear hold her back—she might not be here now. Might not be sitting in this limo, surrounded by the family she had never realized she needed.
A miracle.
Her throat tightened, her fingers curling into her lap as she forced herself to breathe past the swell of emotion.
“I’m so happy you are both here to share this moment with us,” she admitted, her voice unsteady.
Her soon-to-be mother-in-law squeezed her knee again, her own eyes suspiciously bright. “We’re just thrilled to be included.”
“Speaking of,” Katie piped up, grinning. “Did Matthieu tell you how this was going to happen today? Is it before the game? After? Are we going to a small chapel? Can I be the flower girl?”
The tension shattered, laughter spilling through the limo like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Jeannie found herself joining in, shaking her head as warmth spread through her chest.
She still didn’t know exactly how this day would unfold. But no matter what, she was surrounded by friends, family, and people who would celebrate with her when the moment arrived. Her own family might not be there, but she wasn’t sure that they would share in her joy after threatening to go to the media or Matthieu’s boss to get her back under their thumb.
No, she wanted to be her own person, stand strong in her own path she created for herself, and relish the idea that she could have someone as beautiful as Matthieu encouraging her along. Even if his family couldn’t have come, even if they were alone, got booed among the crowds, or everything fell apart at the last minute, nothing would ruin today for her.
H ours later, all of the wives and family members were being escorted to their seats. She found out from Jamie that they were given the option to be rinkside or in one of the fancy team boxes above – and she had made the decision to have them close to the ice. Someday, she wanted to see what one of those boxes looked like surrounding the roof of the arena, but not today.
She was wearing Matthieu’s jersey proudly, and so was Katie and his mother. In fact, all of the wives were wearing their husband’s jerseys over their clothing despite some of the fans making comments as they walked past.
“Yall are gonna lose today…”
“Wrong colors, ladies…”
“It’s not too late to change sides…”
“You’re supposed to cheer for the home team…”
“Which is the winning team…”
Jeannie understood that this was all in support of their team – and she got it. There was no begrudging some of what was said, because she would be just as staunchly supporting the Wolverines when it was game time back home, especially now that she was starting to learn a bit about the game from Matthieu.
“All right now,” Jamie said loudly, turning to look at all of them as they were gathered in a grouping – and her eyes settled on Jeannie. “Today, we are queens… and princesses,” she said, glancing at Katie, who curtseyed. “Our boys are playing – and tonight, we are celebrating tonight, win or lose.”
“Preferably win,” Ashley chimed in loudly.
“Pipe down, Mile High…” Jamie tossed – winking at her to take the sting out of her words. “I’m so freakin’ proud of you, ya know…”
“Oh my gosh…” Ashley muttered.
“Momma, what’s she talking about?” Katie asked. “Why did she call her Mile High?”
“NOTHING!” all of them chimed in and Jeannie couldn’t help the chuckle of laughter that escaped her seeing how brilliantly red Ashely’s perfect expression was. This was the first time she’d seen the woman at a game, and usually she was working. The woman was always on the go it seemed and her cool, coiffed appearance was definitely ruffled this afternoon.
And honestly – she understood.
When Jeannie checked into the hotel, she was stunned to discover that Matthieu had secured a very nice honeymoon suite that looked over the city from a high vantage point. There was a massive bouquet of brilliant red roses waiting in the room, a bottle of champagne, and with two robes carefully laid out on the bed that had rose petals sprinkled on it. His mother and sister were in another room dropping off their stuff before everyone met up once again to head here.
“Now,” Jamie said again, getting everyone’s attention. “I’ve got noisemakers, fan towels to wave in the air, cowbells, and more… I want to make a scene to show our men we’re here to stand tall and support them.”
“I’ll take a cowbell,” Jeannie said volunteering – only to get shot down.
“Nuh-uh, Bridezilla,” Jamie retorted. “You, my dear, are part of the halftime show and will be busy.”
“Half… time?”
“I’m not saying another word – but no cowbell for you. Katie, you’re on cowbell duty,” Jamie said, handing the teenager the bell. “You and Zack-Attack can be my noisemakers. Queens, I’ve got your crowns…” and Jeannie was stunned to see the woman handing out plastic sparkling crowns to each of the women with blue or red fake gems inlaid on each one, only to see her look at her again.
“You’ll be wearing your veil,” Jamie volunteered, grinning. “I love my job.”
“You’re pretty good at it,” Jeannie admitted.
“Is everyone ready – we’ve got the countdown clock going, and they’re gonna start announcing…” Jamie’s voice was drowned out as the lights dimmed almost immediately as the speakers flooded the arena.
“Welcome to the NHL - and tonight we are in the beautiful city of Seattle where they are taking on the Wolverines in a showdown on the ice…”
Jeannie held her breath – and she was pretty sure she didn’t release it for at least an hour, maybe two.
T he score was tied.
Jeannie’s heart pounded, each beat rattling against her ribs as if it were trying to escape. She gripped the edge of her seat so tightly her knuckles ached, watching the game unfold with agonizing intensity. The players were pushing themselves to the limit, every stride, every pass, every brutal collision against the boards filled with sheer determination. But it was Matthieu she couldn’t take her eyes off of.
He had started strong—until that one moment. That single, gut-wrenching second where the puck had slipped past him, the red light flashing like an accusation. Even though he had blocked six other shots, she knew him too well. He was tearing himself apart inside.
Her stomach twisted painfully as the game raged on. Boucher managed to sink a goal for the Wolverines, the brief swell of relief swallowed up by the chaos that followed. The fights tonight were relentless—some small, others downright vicious. The crowd roared, fists flew, and at one point, Jamie beside her sucked in a sharp breath.
“I can’t watch this,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the madness.
Jeannie’s eyes flickered toward the ice just as Jamie’s husband dove into a brawl, fists swinging. It was a sight she would never grow used to. The brutal, primal need to defend, to dominate, to protect. How could they just… do this? Her body flinched with every hit, every sharp slap of the puck against the boards, every bone-crunching check. It was exhausting, as if she were feeling it herself.
And then, the buzzer.
The period ended.
Jeannie exhaled sharply, the tension in her shoulders barely easing before Jamie turned to her, eyes wide, hands flailing in frantic excitement.
The air shifted.
A red carpet unfurled right in front of her, rolling toward the boards like something out of a dream—or a fairytale. Around her, the people she had come to love moved with purpose, crowns on their heads, roses in their hands.
Her stomach flipped.
“Your veil!” Jamie hissed urgently. “Put it on!”
“My veil…” Jeannie echoed, blinking rapidly. Then it hit her. “ Ohhhh my veil! Oh my gosh, now?”
Her pulse skyrocketed as the arena erupted in thunderous applause.
“Tonight, we get to bear witness as one of our former players renews his vows in the city where they first met…”
Jeannie’s hands trembled so violently she nearly dropped the delicate fabric as she fumbled to pin it in place. Jamie was slapping at her hands, taking over, her phone clenched between her teeth, mumbling instructions. Ashley shoved past them both, her sharp, calm voice slicing through the chaos.
“Breathe,” Ashley commanded, her gaze locking onto Jeannie’s. “Look at me. Listen to me. If this were a plane, I’d be telling you to put your tray table upright and fasten your seatbelt. But it’s not. You are marrying your best friend, and he’s waiting for you. So let us help.”
Jeannie let out a broken, breathy laugh that ended in a choked sob. She had known this was coming, had anticipated it, dreamed about it, but now that it was here—now that it was real—it was overwhelming.
Ashley’s voice softened, soothing as she adjusted the veil. The stewardess’ tone was as steady as glass, almost like she was talking to a nervous passenger through their anxiety. Beside her, Jamie snapped photos with wild enthusiasm, capturing the moment while Matthieu’s mother patted Jeannie’s back. Katie was nearly vibrating with excitement, her hands clapping together, tears already spilling down her face.
Jeannie swallowed hard, her chest tightening as she looked around at the people surrounding her. Her friends. Her family.
This is what family should look like.
And then, beyond them, through the flurry of motion and emotion, she saw him.
Matthieu.
His bright blue eyes locked onto hers as he slowly pulled off his goalie helmet, setting it carefully beside his stick. He wasn’t just standing there—he was waiting. Waiting for her. Holding a bouquet, his grip steady, his smile soft and filled with something that made her knees weak.
He was the reason for this. The reason she had found this new home, this new love, this life she never thought possible. He had made her believe in something more.
A sharp, nervous breath caught in her throat. “I’ve gotta go,” she whispered, her voice a frantic mix of urgency and awe.
Her fingers scrambled to pull Ashley’s hands away, whether the veil was secure or not. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him.
Her steps were shaky, her body weightless yet heavy with the gravity of the moment. But she couldn’t tear her gaze from the man standing at the end of the carpet, the man who had changed everything.
The players formed a loose circle around them, both teams standing together in unity, in celebration. Every face she passed, every smile, every cheer—it was all for them.
And when she reached him, his hand extended toward hers, she placed her trembling fingers in his without hesitation.
His fingers curled around hers, warm, steady, grounding her in a way nothing else could.
“Hi there, beautiful…” His voice was thick and uneven, the telltale warble in his tone making her heart clench. Her breath hitched, her lips curving despite the tears in her eyes.
“Hey there, handsome…”
His thumb brushed over her knuckles.
Jeannie’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it might crack her ribs. Her breath caught in her throat as Matthieu’s fingers laced with hers, his grip warm, steady—yet trembling ever so slightly. The world around them blurred, softened into something distant and inconsequential. It was just the two of them now, standing in this moment, hearts bare, emotions raw.
Then, his voice, rough and quiet, shattered the silence.
“Wanna marry me?”
For a second, she forgot how to breathe. It was as if time, itself, had frozen, as if the universe had paused to wait for her answer. Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first, only the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tried to steady herself. She searched his face, the soft lines of apprehension, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He was nervous, too.
And yet, in the midst of all that uncertainty, there was no doubt in her heart.
“Today, tomorrow, always,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. Her fingers tightened around his, as if grounding herself in the reality of him, of this. “I love you, and I think I always have. From the first moment I looked at you… I think I knew.”
His breath hitched, his eyes glistening.
“I was scared,” Matthieu admitted, his gaze never wavering from hers. “From the moment I met you, I knew something was different, that my life was changing. I was scared that I would miss out on part of my life—on having fun, going to parties, meeting people, only to realize that I didn’t want to do any of that alone.” His voice cracked slightly, and he exhaled shakily before continuing, the words rushing out as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I want those moments with you, to celebrate how beautiful life is with you at my side… because I love you too.”
Jeannie gasped softly, the tears she had barely been holding back spilling over as she clutched his hands tighter. “You do?” she wept, her vision blurring with happiness.
“Oh gosh, yes,” he said, his voice fierce with conviction. “I can’t imagine life without you, and you scared the bejesus out of me when you said you were getting a flight to take care of things. You never have to do any of this alone ever again—I will fight every fight, celebrate every win, and support you in everything you ever dream that you want to do. Because that is what love is, what family does, and I am so honored that you even gave me the time of day.”
A soft sob broke from her lips as she reached up, her fingertips ghosting over his cheek, memorizing the warmth of his skin, the way the faintest hint of stubble rasped against her touch. She traced the line of his brow, then brushed away the stray lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. His eyes burned into hers, filled with so much love, so much devotion that it made her knees weak.
“I love you so much,” he breathed.
A shuddering sigh left her lips, a breath of a prayer, a promise. “You’re my soulmate,” she whispered tenderly. “My own miracle, my guardian angel, my heart, my heaven on earth, my love…”
Matthieu turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the center of her palm, his lips warm, reverent. She felt the way he trembled, the way he sniffed emotionally, and then?—
He hesitated.
His gaze flickered to the right, his brows lifting in mild surprise. “Oh…”
Jeannie blinked, then followed his line of sight, her dazed mind struggling to process the moment before the quiet rumble of laughter around them registered in her mind finally. The players surrounding them were smiling at how lost they were in each other’s eyes – and the minister stood nearby, grinning knowingly.
“Yup. Right here. Hi, you two lovebirds,” he said, his voice brimming with amusement. “Is it my turn to say the words over you, or shall we skip to the rings and kissing?”
Jeannie let out a breathless laugh, the weight of everything crashing into her all at once. She turned to Matthieu, their teary eyes meeting, and suddenly, they were both laughing—soft, joyful, overwhelmed. The moment felt surreal as if she were floating in some dream spun from pure, unfiltered joy.
The crisp scent of ice surrounded them, the distant hum of the crowd fading into a dull roar as she stood beside Matthieu, her heart pounding in her chest. The bright arena lights reflected off the ice, casting a glow that made everything feel almost magical.
Matthieu turned to her, his blue eyes warm and filled with unwavering devotion. “Make it official,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “I could say my vows to Jeannie over and over again…”
A chuckle broke through the moment as Acton grinned and bumped knuckles with Salas. “But we’re not, because we’ve got a game to win,” he quipped. “No offense, fellas, naturally… but we’re gonna kick your butts as soon as the smooch-fest is over.”
A ripple of laughter and jeers echoed around them, but Jeannie barely noticed. Her world had shrunk to the man standing before her, the man who had changed her life in ways she’d never imagined. Matthieu’s chuckle was soft, his fingers tightening around hers as he gazed at her as if she were the only person in existence. “I think you better get started,” he murmured.
And then, with their hands clasped, they spoke their vows. Their voices trembled with emotion, the weight of their promises sinking into the marrow of their souls. They had already declared their love and already made these promises, but somehow, this moment felt different. Final. Unshakable.
Matthieu reached into his pocket, his hand steady as he extended his palm toward her. A simple gold band lay there, gleaming under the arena lights. Jeannie’s breath hitched as her gaze met his, the tenderness in his expression stealing whatever words she might have spoken.
“I told you I had it handled,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eye. Then, glancing at the minister, he nodded and repeated the sacred words with the steady confidence that was so innately him.
“I, Matthieu Nicholas Larsson, do take thee, Jeannie Marie Thorton Larsson,” he said carefully, his voice rough with emotion. Jeannie bit her lip, knowing exactly why he was being so meticulous—making sure there was no loophole, no way anyone could ever question the legitimacy of their union. He was hers, and she was his.
“I vow to love you, cherish you, and protect you always—in sickness or in health, till death do us part,” Matthieu continued, his fingers shaking slightly as he slid the engagement ring and wedding band onto her finger. The cool metal sent a shiver up her spine, a physical reminder of the promises they had just spoken.
“With these rings, I thee wed… forever and always.”
Jeannie sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she slid the ring onto Matthieu’s fourth finger, watching as a single tear slipped down his cheek. Her heart clenched at the sight. He was hers. Completely, undeniably hers.
The minister’s voice rang out through the arena. “What is promised before God, let no man put asunder. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Larsson, and then I think we are out of time. They’re waving us off the ice.”
Matthieu exhaled sharply, a slow, decadent smile spreading across his lips as he reached for her veil. His fingers trembled slightly as he lifted it, his eyes drinking her in like she was the most precious thing he had ever seen. Jeannie’s breath caught. That look—full of unspoken promises, heat, and love—sent a shiver down her spine.
She nodded subtly, understanding passing between them without a single word. Tonight. When they were finally alone.
Matthieu’s arms curled around her, pulling her into him as his lips captured hers in a slow, reverent kiss. The world melted away, leaving only them in a perfect, frozen moment. His embrace was warm, and solid, and his love wrapped around her like a second skin.
He pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “Save that veil for me… for later.”
Jeannie laughed softly, her fingers tracing his jaw as she whispered back, “I already know…” Her voice wavered with emotion, and she pressed her forehead to his. “I love you.”
His smile softened, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I love you too, but I’ve gotta go.”
She nodded, understanding. This was his world—his passion, his second love. And she would never stand in the way of that.
“Go kick their butts, honey,” she said loudly, grinning over his shoulder.
Matthieu’s eyes widened slightly before a full, boyish grin spread across his face. The ice erupted in cheers and protests, the opposing team groaning as their own teammates whooped in support.
Still grinning, Matthieu waved over a referee, his voice carrying across the ice. “Can you let everyone know that there’s wedding cake in the atrium for everyone after the game?”
The ref arched a brow. “There’s thousands of people here.”
Matthieu shrugged, flashing Jeannie a smirk that sent warmth rushing through her chest. “I bought a metric crap-ton of cake because I love my wife, and I want the world to know it.”
Jeannie threw her head back, laughing wildly. She shook her head, utterly in disbelief at this incredible man she had just married.
Sure enough, the ref turned to the crowd, announcing, “Per the new bride and groom, there is wedding cake in the atrium for everyone after the game.”
The roar that followed was deafening.
“LET’S FINISH THIS!” Acton bellowed, raising his stick in the air as Salas joined in. Boucher was already locking eyes with an opponent, sending a silent promise of a battle yet to come.
Jeannie sighed, knowing full well that the next two periods were about to get ugly.
“You better go, wife…” Matthieu murmured, hastily adjusting his gear as he prepared to join the game. He turned to her one last time, his voice softer. “I love you.”
“I’ll see you soon, handsome,” she said, blowing him a kiss.
Matthieu caught it dramatically, pressing his fingers to his lips before skating backward, his grin wide and confident. “You know it!” he called out before spinning around and charging toward the net.
Jeannie stood there for a moment, her heart full, her fingers absently brushing the new ring on her hand. She had never believed in fairytales. But as she watched her husband—her husband —play the game he loved after marrying the woman he adored, she realized blissfully that she was living one.