AMELIA #2
“No, you’re not. And you shouldn’t be.” He moves my way, kissing the top of my head. “Eastern Conference champions and heading to the Stanley Cup in your first season with the Sea Crabs? You’re a goddamn inspiration, Lia.”
“Emmy told me she wanted to take the shot.” I lean into his embrace, the adrenaline from the night ebbing to the quiet contentment of being back in his arms. “What a goal, huh?”
“I’m so proud of her. Mav was hysterical and wanted to celebrate with her, but Hudson told him we didn’t need allegations about throwing a game so his wife could win.
Now that he’s officially retired, it won’t be a conflict of interest.” Grant’s chuckle is warm against my cheek. “He knows about us, by the way.”
“Wait, what?” I pull back and stare at Grant. “How?”
“He caught me waving to you at the last game of the regular season. He promised he’d keep his mouth shut, and I trust him. If he had told anyone else, we’d know by now. I’m sorry for not denying it. I figured with Lainey and Sienna knowing, one more person wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
“It’s not, and I’m not mad. It was a matter of time before it happened.” I shrug. “Just means we need to be even more careful if we’re around your teammates together.”
“We will. And Mav will take the secret to his grave.” Grant threads his fingers through my hair. “I have two surprises for you.”
“Do you?”
“Yup. It’s a big night that deserves a lot of celebration.
” He drops his hand and digs in his pocket.
He sets a puck in front of me with a smile.
“To commemorate your monumental victory. Mav stole the one from Emmy’s goal—I wasn’t going to argue with him about that—so I snagged this one from the refs. ”
“Really?” I lift the puck and run my fingers over the ridges. “This is for me?”
“It is. I thought you could put it in your office at the arena. Whatever happens next, you’ll always have a piece of tonight.”
“Thank you.” I tug on his tie until his mouth is close to mine. I kiss him, the weeks of being apart melting away when he nips at my bottom lip. “You’re my favorite person in the world.”
“And you’re mine.” He squeezes my backside and gives the cheek a light smack. “Your other surprise is in the fridge.”
“Is something going to pop out at me?”
“Fuck, I hope not. You know I don’t do scary things. Being dragged to those haunted houses in Orlando last October was my idea of hell.”
I kiss his cheek and pull away, padding over to the fridge. When I open it, I frown at the white boxes inside.
“Food?” I ask, grabbing both of them.
“In a sense. Close your eyes for a second,” he says, taking the heavy boxes from me. My eyelashes flutter closed, and I smile while he hums a song under his breath. “Thank you for your patience.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat with anticipation.”
“So am I. Okay. Come on over, baby.”
I open my eyes, and I peer over his shoulder. Two cakes sit on the counter, and I look at the one on the left first.
“‘Congratulations on second place in the East. The Stars are still better,’” I read. “Tonight’s results would beg to differ.”
“Shit.” Grant chuckles and opens the flap of the box on the right. “Wrong one. I had to have a backup, just in case.”
I read the message on the other cake and laugh. “‘Congratulations on kicking our ass. You’re the hottest coach I’ve ever seen.’”
“And I mean every word.”
“What a way to celebrate. I think I’ll have a slice right now.” I grab a plate from the cabinet and open the drawer for a knife. “Do you want a piece?”
“I’ll steal some of yours.” He leans against the counter, watching me. “They’re both chocolate with buttercream frosting.”
“My favorite. You’re good at remembering things.” I cut a slice and set it on my plate. “Hang on. Let me get a fork.”
“Don’t need one.” Grant washes his hands then picks up the cake, holding it out to me. “Open up, baby.”
I blush as he brings the slice to my mouth. I take a bite, a moan escaping me.
“Delicious,” I murmur. I fold my fingers around his wrist, holding his hand in place while I lick a crumb off his thumb. “The best way to end tonight.”
“The loss stings, but it’s worth it for you to be happy,” he says, and there in his kitchen, it hits me with full force.
Oh my god.
I love this man.
I love him so fucking much.
That what this is, right? It has to explain the warm, bubbly sensation that sits in the center of my chest when he smears frosting on my cheek.
It’s the reason why I’m gripped by giddiness when the slice of cake lands on the floor and he wraps his arms around me.
It’s the only cause for the content sigh that slips out of me because I’m safe in his hold.
Love.
Aching, pure, impossible love.
I’ve never believed in it before, but I see it clearly now.
Dark eyes, dark hair. The smile he presses into the hollow of my neck with a kiss that makes me dizzy with lust. Hands that protect me, that worship me as his salvation.
It makes me gasp, and I put a hand over my heart when Grant pulls back and looks at me.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Your face is red.”
“I’m fine. Perfect,” I answer. “Never been happier.”
I kiss him again, and I don’t care that his hands are covered in frosting. I don’t care that I have cake in my hair. None of that matters because I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be with the man that I love.
Maybe dreams really do come true.