Chapter 31 #2
Reese," he begins, and softly clears his throat.
"I spent my whole life keeping things separate, not letting people in.
Hockey here. Personal life there. Never letting them touch.
" He looks down at our joined hands, then back up at me with those intense eyes that first pulled me in.
"Then Tyler came along, and you crashed into me with that damn coffee, and suddenly.
.." He shakes his head with a small laugh.
"Suddenly I didn't want walls anymore. You two taught me I'm better—as a player, as a father, as a man—when I stop trying to be different versions of myself. "
His hands tighten around mine. "I promise you, right here in front of everyone we love, no more running, no more walls.
I promise to meet every challenge as your husband, as Tyler's dad, as a complete person who isn't afraid to need you or be needed by you.
I promise to choose us—every day, in every decision, for the rest of my life. "
There's no holding back the tears now. They slide down my cheeks as I take a shaky breath to begin my own vows.
Logan," I start, my voice wobbling. I squeeze his hands, drawing strength from his steady grip.
"Before you, I thought I knew what love was supposed to be.
Something safe. Predictable." I swallow hard as his eyes lock with mine.
"But you and Tyler showed me that real love isn't safe at all—it's terrifying and messy and absolutely worth every moment of fear.
" My voice grows stronger. "I promise to stand beside you through championship games and 3 a.m. insomnia.
To cheer loudest when you succeed and hold you tightest when you struggle.
To build a family where none of us ever has to face anything alone again. "
When it's time for the rings, Tyler steps forward importantly, holding up the pillow with exaggerated care.
Logan reaches for his ring, but in his excitement, Tyler tilts the pillow.
Both rings slide off, bouncing across the wooden floor.
There's a collective gasp, followed by gentle laughter as Tyler's eyes widen in horror.
"It's okay, buddy," Logan reassures him as Kovy and Nate drop to their knees, spotting the rings that haven't rolled far. They hand them back to Tyler, who looks on the verge of tears until Logan whispers something in his ear that makes him giggle.
When the officiant finally pronounces us husband and wife, Logan's lips find mine in a kiss that makes my knees wobble like I'm in some ridiculous rom-com.
I'm about to whisper something completely inappropriate in his ear when Tyler catapults himself between us, nearly knocking me off balance in my ridiculous heels.
"We're a family now!" he announces with the volume of a kid who's been instructed to use his "indoor voice" at least eight thousand times.
Logan catches my eye over Tyler's head, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
I can’t believe this is real.
Logan hoists Tyler up with one arm, his other hand still gripping mine.
"Damn right we are," he says quietly, just for us, and then we're walking back down the aisle—this improbable, perfect little unit—while I try not to trip over my dress.
The reception tent glows like something from a fairy tale, hundreds of string lights casting a golden haze over everything.
The tables are draped in white linen, there’s a wooden dance floor, and each centerpiece is a collection of wildflowers that match my bouquet.
Through the open sides of the tent, I can see Green Bay glittering in the evening light.
Everything is perfect. Logan's hand remains firmly in mine as we move through the crowd, accepting congratulations from endless well-wishers.
"You doing okay?" he whispers, his mouth close to my ear. "Need a drink? Food? Escape plan?"
I laugh, leaning into his solid warmth. "I'm perfect right where I am."
The dinner passes in a blur of delicious food I barely taste and conversations that feel dreamlike. Before I know it, it's time for toasts, and Sully stands, tapping his glass gently with a knife until the tent quiets.
"I've known Logan for twelve years," he begins, his face creased with emotion.
"I watched him arrive as a rookie with more determination than skill, more heart than experience.
I watched him work harder than anyone to earn his spot, to become not just a good player but a great one.
I watched him grow into his role as captain, leading by example, never asking more of his teammates than he asked of himself. "
Sully's gaze finds Logan, who sits beside me with eyes that say he’s curious about what Sully will say next.
Sully's voice softens, his rugged face turning to a bright smile.
"But folks, I gotta tell ya—watching this guy with Reese and that little boy—it's like seeing a stallion finally figure out he doesn't need to keep jumping the fence.
" He chuckles, shaking his head. "Logan was always good at the game. What he needed to learn you just can’t learn at the rink. "
He raises his glass. "To Logan and Reese—may your life together be as beautiful as the journey that brought you here."
Elena rises next, smoothing her dress. "When Reese first told me about Logan, I was skeptical," she admits, drawing chuckles from the crowd. "I’ve known them both for a very long time and I just didn’t know if Logan could figure it out.
I've been her best friend long enough to worry it would end badly. "
I feel my cheeks warm as she continues. "But then I saw them together—not just Logan and Reese, but Logan, Reese, and Tyler. And I realized this wasn't just another relationship. This was a family being born right before our eyes."
Her voice catches. "Reese has always given the best advice while rarely following it herself.
She's been the rock for so many people, always putting others first. So watching her finally find someone who has chosen to put her first, who fights for her the way she fights for everyone else.
.." Elena raises her glass, tears shining in her eyes.
"It's the happiest ending I could have wished for my best friend. "
The dance floor opens with my father and me, swaying to Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World,” a song my mother loved so much. Dad tries to keep his composure, but I feel his shoulders shake slightly as he holds me.
"She would have loved him," he whispers. "And she would be so proud of you."
Before I can respond, Logan appears at our side, politely cutting in. Dad places my hand in his with a nod before stepping away, and suddenly I'm in my husband's arms. My husband. The thought sends a thrill through me.
"Hello, Mrs. McCoy," Logan murmurs, his hand warm at the small of my back as he pulls me closer.
"I like the sound of that," I tell him, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
His lips brush my ear, his voice dropping even lower. "I can't wait to get you alone."
Heat blooms down in my belly at his words and the promise in his eyes. "How much longer do you think we need to stay?" I ask.
His laugh vibrates through his chest. "At least until cake. Then we make our escape." He says.
As the evening progresses, I notice Tyler growing increasingly sleepy, his head nodding as he tries to stay awake. Jessica appears at our table, looking elegant in her dress, holding Tyler’s hand.
"I think someone's ready for bed," she says gently.
Logan picks Tyler up and kisses his head.
Jessica turns to me, surprising me by pulling me into a quick hug. "Congratulations. I’m truly happy for you both."
I return the hug, still amazed at how far we've all come. "Thank you for everything, Jessica. Really."
Logan hands the sleepy boy over to Jessica.
After they leave, it takes another hour before we can make our escape. Logan takes my hand and leads me across the resort grounds toward our suite, stopping occasionally to steal kisses under the starlit sky.
Our room is a converted barn loft, rustic and luxurious, with exposed beams and a king-sized bed draped in crisp white sheets with lots of pillows. My bridesmaids lit candles that flicker softly, and a bottle of champagne waits in a silver bucket.
Logan closes the door behind us, and suddenly the air feels charged with anticipation. He crosses to me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Hi," he says simply, reaching for my hands.
"Hi," I reply, suddenly shy despite everything we've shared.
His fingers trace the lace at my shoulder, a touch so light it makes me shiver. "I've been wanting to do this all day," he murmurs, pressing his lips to the curve where my neck meets my shoulder.
I tilt my head to give him better access, my eyes fluttering closed as his mouth moves up my throat. "Do what, exactly?"
"Get you out of this dress." His fingers find the first tiny button at my back. "Slowly."
He turns me gently, and I feel each button giving way under his careful touch, his lips following the path of exposed skin. "My wife," he whispers against my spine, the words filled with wonder. "You're my wife."
The dress falls to my feet, leaving me in the sheer lace lingerie I chose specially for tonight. Logan shakes his head as he takes me in.
"You are..." He shakes his head, apparently at a loss for words. "Jesus Christ." His hands settle on my waist. "You wore this all day?
I reach for his tie, pulling him closer by it. "Your turn."
I make a show of undressing him slowly—tie, shirt buttons one at a time, belt buckle. When I finally push his pants down and wrap my hand around his cock, he groans.
"Tease," he accuses, but his hips rock into my touch.
"Just giving you what you gave me," I say innocently, stroking him base to tip.
"Didn't you say you imagined this moment?"
"Imagined a lot more than a hand job," he growls, backing me toward the bed.
"Tell me." I let him push me down onto the mattress, looking up at him. "What else did you imagine?"
He kneels between my legs, hooking his fingers in my panties and dragging them down. "I imagined tasting you as my wife for the first time."
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me, tongue flat against my clit in one long lick that he knows will make me arch off the bed. He takes his time, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention, reading my body's responses carefully.
"Logan," I gasp, fingers threading through his hair. "Oh god."
He slides one finger, then two inside me, and turns his hand over, while his tongue works my clit, and the dual sensation is overwhelming. I'm already close, wound tight from a day of anticipation and longing glances.
"That's it," he murmurs against me. "Let go, baby."
I come hard, crying out, my thighs lifting me off the bed. He works me through it, softening his touch as I come down, pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs.
When he moves up my body, he kisses me and I taste myself on his lips. He positions himself at my entrance, no need to adjust him, as I wrap my legs around his waist.
"Ready, Mrs. McCoy?" His eyes are both tender and playful.
"So ready, Mr. McCoy."
He pushes inside in one long slow deep motion.
He makes each thrust deep and purposeful. I meet him, our bodies finding that perfect synchronization we've learned. He knows exactly how to press down to work my still-sensitive clit.
"Come with me, Reese” his voice tight with his own approaching climax.
The pressure builds fast, and when I come again, he follows, both of us crying out. He collapses beside me, and pulls me up on his chest.
We start to laugh.
"Best wedding ever," I murmur.
"We did good," he agrees, pressing a kiss to my hair. "Now let's see if we can break the bed before morning."