Dylan
I can’t stop staring at her. My wife. The words feel foreign and perfect on my tongue, like I’ve been waiting my whole life to use them.
Cheyenne glows in her white dress as we enter the barn, her hand in mine. The new ring on her finger catches the light from a thousand twinkling bulbs strung across the wooden beams overhead.
I’ve scored game-winning goals with less pride than I feel walking into this reception with Chey by my side. The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as we’re announced.
The barn has been transformed into something out of Cheyenne’s dreams, with pine garlands draping from rafter to rafter and tables adorned with miniature Christmas trees, tiny white lights twinkling among their branches.
The scent of evergreen and cinnamon permeates the air, mingling with the delicious aroma coming from the catering stations.
It’s surreal, looking out at a room full of people who’ve come to celebrate us. Two years ago, I was standing in a gym, confessing to my teammates that I was terrified of my feelings for Cheyenne.
Now I’m her husband. Now we’re building a life together.
My eyes scan the crowd, taking in familiar faces.
My teammates are in the corner warming up for what will undoubtedly be a night of shenanigans.
Blaze is attempting to twirl Addy around while she wears their son Benny in a baby carrier on her chest. Cam has his arm around Nila as they chat with other guests.
Kade sits at a table nearby, watching over everyone with his usual paternal vigilance.
His pregnant wife Ella is by his side along with his adopted son Colton, who’s downing some appetizers with a grin.
“Champagne, Mr. Williamston?” A server approaches with a tray.
Mr. Williamston. That’s me now. No longer Dylan the hockey player, Dylan the teammate, Dylan the eternal bachelor.
I’m Dylan, the husband. Cheyenne’s husband.
I take two flutes, handing one to Chey. “To us,” I say softly, repeating the toast we made that life-changing New Year’s Eve.
“To us,” she echoes, her eyes meeting mine over the rim of her glass.
My parents approach. Mom’s practically vibrating with excitement. She’s been waiting for this day, I realize, probably since the first time she saw Cheyenne and me together, long before I had the sense to see what was right in front of me.
“There they are,” my dad says, clapping me on the shoulder. “The newlyweds.”
Mom doesn’t bother with words. She simply wraps Cheyenne in a tight embrace, holding her for a long moment.
When she pulls back, there are tears in her eyes.
“Thank you for making our son so happy.” Her voice is thick with emotion.
“I’ve never seen him like this before. Like he’s finally found his place. ”
I feel heat creep up my neck. “Mom...”
“It’s true,” Dad agrees. “You were always so restless, son. Like you were searching for something and didn’t know what. And then Cheyenne came along—well, she was always there, but you finally had the good sense to see her.”
“Best decision I ever made,” I say, wrapping my arm around Cheyenne’s waist.
Mom turns to me, cupping my face in her hands the way she used to when I was a kid. “I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”
The sincerity in her voice hits me hard. I’ve always been the golden boy in their eyes—the hockey star, the one who could charm his way out of trouble. But this feels different. Like they’re proud of me … as a person, not just for my accomplishments.
“Thanks, Mom,” I manage, my voice rougher than I’d like.
We’re saved from further emotional exchanges by the arrival of Blaze, who swoops in with his usual impeccable timing.
“Dude!” he exclaims, pulling me into a back-slapping hug. “You’re officially off the market. How does it feel to join the ranks of the happily married?”
“Better than I ever imagined,” I answer honestly.
Blaze’s expression softens for a second. “I knew you’d get here eventually.” He turns to Cheyenne. “Mrs. Williamston, you look absolutely breathtaking. If I weren’t already blissfully attached, I’d be jealous of this guy.”
Addy appears at his side, rolling her eyes fondly. “You’re insufferable,” she tells her husband before side-hugging Cheyenne. “But he’s right. You look beautiful, Chey.”
“Thank you.” Chey smiles, doing a little curtsy. “And look at this little handsome fella,” she says, eyeing Benny who’s sitting peacefully in the baby carrier on Addy’s chest. “He’s got a bowtie and everything!”
“Doesn’t he look so dapper?” Addy gushes, giving him a little squeeze.
Before long, we’re pulled into the whirlwind of the reception—greeting guests, accepting congratulations, laughing at stories being told at our expense—followed by dinner. Through it all, I keep Cheyenne close, my hand finding hers. Each touch, each glance reaffirms that this is real.
We made it.
The clinking of a glass cuts through the din of dinner conversation. I turn to see Kade standing, champagne flute in hand. The room gradually quiets as everyone realizes it’s time for toasts.
“For those who don’t know me,” Kade begins, his deep voice carrying easily across the barn, “I’m Dylan’s teammate and, apparently, the one responsible enough to be trusted with the best man speech.”
Laughter ripples through the crowd.
“I’ve known Dylan for years now,” he continues. “I watched him grow from a talented rookie with an ego the size of Georgia”—more laughter—“into the man standing before you today. He’s a leader on the ice, a friend you can count on, and now, a husband.”
Cheyenne’s hand squeezes mine under the table.
“But I’ve also had the privilege of watching another transformation.
” Kade turns slightly to address Cheyenne directly.
“I’ve seen how you’ve changed him, Cheyenne.
How you challenge him, support him, make him laugh.
” His gaze shifts back to me. “And I’ve seen how Dylan looks at you when you’re not watching. Like he can’t quite believe his luck.”
I swallow hard.
“To Dylan and Cheyenne.” He raises his glass. “May your love continue to bring out the best in each other. And may you always remember, even on the hard days, that you’ve found in each other what most people spend their lives searching for.”
“To Dylan and Cheyenne!” the crowd echoes, glasses raised.
I find myself blinking back unexpected tears as I pull Cheyenne close for a kiss. She tastes like champagne and pure joy, and I want to freeze this moment forever.
After dinner, the toasts, and our first dance, I finally get a moment to breathe. I watch from the sidelines as Cheyenne dances with her mother, both of them laughing. The sight fills me with a contentment I never knew I was capable of feeling.
“You’re glowing, big brother,” Genna says, appearing beside me with Paul in tow. “It’s disgustingly sweet.”
I laugh, pulling her into a side hug. “You’re one to talk. You and Paul are practically joined at the hip.”
She grins, exchanging a look with Paul that suggests they’re sharing a secret. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, looking between them.
Paul clears his throat. “We, uh, we’re planning to elope. New Year’s Eve.”
“Seriously?” I look at my sister, who’s beaming with happiness. “That’s in, like, three weeks.”
“I know it’s sudden,” Genna says. “But we don’t want the big production. We just want it to be us and a justice of the peace. Then we’ll tell everyone after it’s done.”
“Well, congratulations,” I say, genuinely happy for them. “But why are you telling me now? I thought the whole point of eloping was to keep it secret.”
“Because,” Paul says, straightening his shoulders, “I wanted to formally ask for your blessing. Again. I know I already did when I proposed, but since you’re her only brother, and we’re teammates—”
I burst out laughing, unable to help myself. “Dude, you already asked me. You had this whole speech prepared. I said yes then, and I say yes now.”
Paul’s shoulders relax, though he still looks slightly sheepish. “I know, I just—I respect you, man. On and off the ice. And Genna’s your family.”
“And soon you will be too.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Officially.”
“Look at us,” Genna says. “Would you ever have guessed that both of us would be getting married in the same year?”
“Not in a million years,” I admit. “But I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”
As the reception continues around us, I seek out Cheyenne again. She’s standing with Ella and Nila. The sight of her—relaxed, happy, mine—tugs at something deep in my chest.
I cross the room to her, sliding an arm around her waist. “Can I steal my wife for a minute?”
“Wife,” Cheyenne repeats, leaning into me. “Still sounds weird.”
“A good weird?” I ask as I lead her toward the barn doors.
“The best weird,” she confirms.
Outside, the night is crisp and clear. The Christmas tree farm stretches in all directions, rows of evergreens silhouetted against the night sky. I wrap my jacket around Cheyenne’s shoulders to ward off the December chill.
“Thank you,” she says, snuggling into it.
“For the jacket?”
“For everything.” She turns to face me. “For seeing me when I didn’t think anyone ever would. For choosing me.”
I cup her face in my hands, overwhelmed by how much I love this woman. “Cheyenne Blackwe—” I stop, correcting myself with a smile. “Cheyenne Williamston.”
The name feels right on my lips, like it was always meant to be hers.
“Mrs. Williamston,” I say, testing it again. “I’m the lucky one here.”
I kiss her again, under the stars, surrounded by Christmas trees that remind me of where this all began.
Cheyenne wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. In her embrace, I’m finally home—the real me, not the persona I cultivated for years. With her, I don’t have to be the hockey star or the life of the party.
I can just be Dylan, and that’s enough.
More than enough.
As the sounds of the reception float out to us, I make a silent promise to myself to never take this for granted. To choose her every day. To remember that some things—the most important things—are worth more than they appear.
And our story? It’s only just beginning.
Did you like this book? Then you'll love Penalty of Love, featuring Cam and Nila.