Epilogue
Three weeks later – Ollie
Hockey season is over. While I miss being on the ice with my teammates, I don’t miss the travel. I love being at home with Phoebe and being able to do things like meet my new nephew at the hospital.
“Meet Kirby David King,” Finn says, beaming with pride as he smiles down at the blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms.
“David?” Phoebe asks. “After Daddy?”
Shelby nods and wipes a tear. Phoebe does the same, and I wrap my arm around her.
Phoebe doesn’t have memories of her parents, since she was barely a year old when they died.
I know that’s one of the biggest regrets in her life.
Shelby is generous in sharing her memories and pictures, but she was only six, so there isn’t a lot.
“We were considering Oliver as a middle name,” Finn says, which has me swallowing back tears. “But then we realized his initials would be KOK and we weren’t saddling him with something that would be getting him called cock.”
Our laughter chases the tears away.
“Want to hold him?” Finn asks.
Phoebe nods but says, “Give him to Ollie, he knows more about babies than I do.”
I accept my nephew from Finn and sit on the sofa they have in the hospital room.
Phoebe sits next to me and leans in to peer at his adorable face.
Kirby has an unexpected shock of coppery red hair.
Shelby says he gets it from their Irish mother.
Kirby’s dark eyes and long eyelashes are from the Kings.
So are the big feet. It’s possible he may not be a Bigfoot shifter when he matures, but he’s sure going to be built like one.
“Do you want to hold him?” I ask Phoebe.
She nods. “I’m scared.”
I place him in her arms and help position him so he’s properly supported.
“He’s so beautiful,” she whispers as she places a gentle kiss on his forehead.
What’s beautiful is seeing Phoebe with a baby in her arms. I can’t wait for that to be us.
We’ve agreed to wait until my two-year contract with the Devil Birds is done before trying because I don’t want to travel once we have a family.
It was hard enough going to Vegas for the Dickinson Cup Finals and leaving her behind.
No way could I leave my kids too. Once I’m done with professional hockey, then we’ll focus on starting a family.
“Have you been by to see Daphne?” Shelby asks us.
Somehow, they managed to give birth the same day. I hope the maternity ward of Shifting Pines General is ready to be overrun by hulking hockey players bearing teddy bears.
“Not yet,” Phoebe says. “Meeting our nephew takes priority.”
We spend another few minutes with our siblings and nephew before leaving to peek in on Daphne.
“She’s napping,” Logan says as we approach the door to her room.
“Is she okay?” Phoebe asks, concern in her voice.
“Mother and baby are both fine. I’m in trouble for giving her such a big baby though. How is Shelby?”
“She’s wonderful,” Phoebe says. “Kirby is adorable.”
“Oh good,” Logan says. “We’re going to get together after visiting hours so the kids can meet each other and the ladies can trade war stories that make me and Finn feel horribly guilty. I’d show you the baby, but they’re both asleep and I don’t want to disturb them,” he says.
“No worries,” I say. “We’ll catch up later. Rest is important.”
On the way home, Phoebe sighs.
“You want a baby,” I say.
Her eyes are dreamy. “I do.”
So do I. “We said we’d wait two years until my new contract was done and I wasn’t traveling. And so you and Andie got Snarky Sweet up and running in the resort.”
Teagan and Mac’s brother, Seamus, who is working on the resort project, approached Phoebe and Andie with a proposition for them to be the official suppliers of desserts and treats for the resort’s special events, like banquets, weddings, showers, conferences—everything that wouldn’t be handled by the pastry chefs employed in the restaurants.
They’ll have an on-site kitchen, and there will be a coffee shop that carries their treats.
The kitchen is included as part of their compensation package, so no rent, which accelerates their dreams for the business.
“I know,” she says on a sigh. “And that’s the right thing to do.”
I run a fingertip along the inside of her leggings-clad thigh. “No reason we can’t practice making one.”
“Practice makes perfect.”
And practice we do. All night long.