Epilogue
One Month Later
Zaila
“Only you would do something like this,” Gunnar grumbled.
But I could tell his opposition was all bark, kind of like the small, shaggy dog curled up in my lap. I shrugged, biting my cheek to keep from smiling. “Well, it wasn’t like I could organize the pet adoption day and not adopt a pet, Gunnar. That reflects poorly on the organization.”
His shoulders slumped. “Dammit. I’ve never had a dog. They’re messy. And needy. And—”
“It’s high time you learned how to be a pet dad,” I cut in. “It’ll be good practice for…”
I frowned, my lips pressing together. We weren’t actively trying for a child, though Gunnar felt his age and a stronger need than I did. I knew this because he’d told me so. But I wasn’t positive I was ready for that much change yet. Still, I loved the idea of family, just not quite yet.
“My daddy was fifty when I came into his life,” I said. “He was a calming, soothing influence on me. I want that for our kids.”
“We’ll talk about kids and adding to our family later,” Gunnar said, rubbing a palm up and down my back. “After I get used to the fact you brought home a dog.”
“He’d been in the shelter for weeks, and the staff said he’d be put down.” I might have added to the wobble of my chin to sell my point.
“They knew you were a sucker for a dog,” Gunnar muttered, his eyes burning with glacial ice.
“Well, I was. I am. Have you actually looked at him?” I pulled from Gunnar’s embrace and bent down.
My incisions weren’t tender anymore, and I felt better each day.
The CATS had set up a calendar for the past month to ensure I wasn’t left alone for long, organized by Paloma, who was truly the most amazing woman.
I aspired to be her when I grew up. Thanks to her, Vivian, Keelie, Ida Jane, Hana, Naomi, and Millie, I was part of a family again.
Losing my mother had left me rudderless for a while, but I’d found my determination now, my spark.
A significant reason for that was the man in front of me.
He’d confronted his fears to make sure he was the best possible version of himself for us.
That didn’t mean we were always able to communicate easily, or that there was never any tension.
But I’d come to accept that part of what made us work was that we had to remain on our toes.
Most of our tension came from outside forces.
Gunnar and I had, quite accidentally, forged something strong and time-tested.
We were better together. The Wildcatters were better when we worked together, too, which the CATS and the rest of the staff frequently remarked on.
In the past few weeks, I’d really bonded with Vivian and Hana, who, like me, were quieter than the more vivacious Ida Jane and Naomi.
I liked their introspection and willingness to let me work through my issues at my pace.
I hadn’t realized how rare that was until I’d lost that full-throated acceptance from my parents.
The dog shifted, scooting closer, his ears tilting forward as if listening to us, his light brown eyes gleaming as they pleaded for the love he’d already engendered in each of us—though Gunnar was reluctant to admit it. I reached down and petted his head, enjoying the soothing softness of his ears.
“I can’t believe you named him Hat Trick,” Gunnar muttered, but I caught the hint of a smile ticking up the corners of his lips. I was now well-versed in Gunnar’s tells.
“Well, he got out of prison, made me fall in love with him, and scored billionaire-doggy status all in one day.” I shrugged. “Those are some impressive stats.”
“It had nothing to do with the fact that Luka Stol and Cormac Bouchard each managed a hat trick against Jeff Cross’s new team the night before?”
I widened my eyes before blinking up at him as I bit my cheek to stifle the smile threatening to burst forth. “I never thought of that.”
“Liar.” Gunnar chuckled even as he pulled me close, his lips at my temple, warming me as I snuggled closer.
I started back at work a month after my surgery as the associate social media director, a position that offered higher pay and a better title, but most of the same tasks as I’d had before.
I had a job I loved, and Tim was my boss now.
It was great collaborating with him. We were all happy with the arrangement.
Being engaged to the big boss man had perks, too, because even Natalie had apologized to me, and then asked for my help with a tricky issue that Gunnar had assured her I’d be willing to solve. I did, and now Natalie and I planned to have regular strategy meetings.
The CATS had invited me to their away-game-watching parties, and I adored being included in their group.
We were at our house, the one I shared with Gunnar, for tonight’s playoff game, and the Wildcatters would battle Montreal.
Of course we’d all wanted to attend the game, but it was the first of the series.
We’d decided to hold off until the next rotation back to Montreal, if needed, so we could celebrate or commiserate with our guys when the series ended.
However, it soon appeared that celebration was already in order after the guys decimated Montreal’s defense and scored three times in the first quarter. Under Cormac, the guys were playing smart and loose—and they looked like the champions I knew they were.
Ida Jane leaned around Vivian and tapped my knee. “Did Gunnar tell you Jeff’s ‘fresh start’ lasted all of thirteen games, including the one where Cormac and Luka scored six goals to Jeff’s nil before he was sent back down to the minor leagues?”
I nodded and buried my face in my margarita so they would miss my satisfied smile.
“He pitched such a fit about the demotion he’s now serving a month-long suspension, the longest in the league,” Paloma added.
I shook my head. We weren’t sharing anything new. We just liked this story.
Vivian grinned, her eyes dancing. “Jeffy boy is going to be force-fed humility, even if he fights it kicking and screaming.”
Ida Jane clanked margarita glasses with her before slamming back her drink.
She opened her eyes and gave a satisfied sigh.
After watching the massive screen for a few seconds, she said, “We need to discuss the second line. See that? I’m not happy with the guys’ interactions there. What’s going on, and how do we fix it?”
The second line had just scored a goal, but there had been a stutter between the younger players, which had almost led to a missed pass.
“Well, we can find the younger guys partners,” Hana suggested. “Pax has been telling them how much happier they’ll be in loving, long-term relationships.”
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, as I soaked in lessons on how to improve the team dynamic.
“I’m going to tell Gunnar to hire you all,” I said later that evening, deep into my second margarita and late in the third period. We’d turned down the game because the guys were up four-one. “You’re really smart.”
“And you’re really toasted,” Keelie said with a tipsy giggle of her own.
“We don’t want to be on the payroll,” Paloma said. “We like what we do.”
Naomi gave a sharp nod. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t do our damnedest to make sure our team performs at peak.”
“Oooh, did you hear about Lydia and Jay?” Millie asked as she set down her phone.
I shook my head.
Millie grinned. “Their gossip empire collapsed.”
Naomi made a blow-up sound as she opened her hand.
“People realized they didn’t actually like listening to them,” Ida Jane said. “I bet that stung.”
“Jay’s hanging around like a bad smell. He’s dating a woman from the ticket sales department named Eileen, and I think it’s to get the scoop on the organization,” Keelie said. “I hope Eileen knows what she’s getting into.”
“Considering how often they undress each other with their eyes, I’d say she’s quite happy in the relationship,” Naomi said. “It’s more than you and Gunnar, Z.” She smirked.
“Oh, please, they aren’t any worse than you and Cormac,” Naomi said.
“Or Lennon and me,” Vivian added.
There were murmurs of agreement among the ladies.
“Admittedly, we do that often,” I said. “Gunnar’s quite a catch, a man in his prime.”
“Love looks good on him,” Paloma said with a smile.
Naese scored a goal, and Hana jumped up, doing a hip-thrust-shimmy dance.
That brought another round of giggles.
“At least Eileen can’t tell Jay anything he can use against the team,” Keelie said.
“And we’ll keep it that way,” Paloma agreed.
When the game ended, Gunnar stepped out of his office, where he’d been watching the game, and rolled his eyes at us even as he organized rides home for each of my friends.
Later that night, as I got into bed, I stared up at the ceiling.
“What’s wrong?” He settled his rump next to my hip.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Rookie, you promised.”
I bit my lip as I swallowed the latest knot of emotion. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself, sad about the pregnancy.” I sighed as I closed my eyes. “I got invited to a baby shower.”
Gunnar gathered me into his arms, and I rested my head against the thick slab of his shoulder. “Ah, my love, that brought all the grief forward.”
I wrapped my arms around him because I’d learned that leaning on Gunnar didn’t make me weak; it made me human. I appreciated his ability to hold me—and hold me up sometimes—just as I did for him when his demons came in the night.
“It’s been just over a month since the surgery, and my mom was gone just a couple of months before that. It’s all been…a lot.” I huffed out a breath.
“You overloaded.”
I nodded, my eyes squeezed shut. “But I want to go. I love that the CATS invited me.”
Gunnar smoothed my hair. “You can be pleased and sad together. Hell, you can be happy and grief-stricken at the same time. I spent months that way, when I was courting you.”
I giggled, remembering his bad dad jokes as we waited out the thunderstorm. “Why did the bicycle fall over?”
“What?” he asked, sounding confused. I pulled back to meet his gaze.