Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
Hannah
Hanging the last picture up on my wall, I dust my hands off and stare at the framed advertisement of Sean on a Ducati.
“The things that man does for you,” Carter says, waltzing into my office and taking a seat in the chair across from my desk.
Sean Mac in leather pants is absolutely doing something for me right now, but I’m not going to say that to my brother-in-law.
“I know. He better watch out; I’m starting to feel a little spoiled.” I slide into my office chair and clasp my hands together on top of the desk. “Whatcha got?”
“Just came to check on you . . . Make sure you have a clear mind for your first game in Vegas.”
“For the most part. I just have some unresolved business with my Dad. Part of me worries it might mess with us while we’re coaching together, but then another part of me thinks that maybe I’m just falling back into old patterns.”
He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate. Blowing the hair out of my face, I lean back in my chair. “Remember when he tricked me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I said some things, and I feel a bit guilty about them.”
“What’d you say?”
“I blamed him for me trying to be a perfect daughter and doing everything in the world to make his life easy because of what he went through with Mom. I told him that I didn’t know what parts of my life were mine and what were expectations I’ve been trying to live up to.
” I cringe just hearing myself say it. “I know I lived a pretty sheltered life, but he never put unrealistic expectations on me; I put them on myself.”
“So, apologize.”
“If I apologize, am I sweeping what he did under the rug?”
Carter leans forward, both elbows braced on his knees. “You can apologize and still place healthy boundaries around yourself, Hannah. You’ve been holding onto this for what? A month and a half? It’s time to let it go.”
Things have been so awkward and tense between us, and I hate it. I don’t know how I’m going to stand beside my dad in that box and coach this week if I don’t clear the air.
“You know what? You’re right.” I push to stand. “I’m gonna go find him and fix this shit.”
Panic crosses Carter’s face as I head into the hallway.
“Hannah, wait!” he calls out just as I arrive outside Dad’s office.
“What do you think?” Sean asks my dad.
“Hey, I had one more thing I needed to talk to you about.” Carter pulls my attention back to him, but then I catch the two most important men in my life embracing out of the corner of my eye.
My head swings in their direction as Dad pats Sean on the back and shakes his hand.
“What the hell is going on?”
“New bromance,” Carter says quickly.
“Awww. This is cute,” I tease, striding into Dad’s office.
Sean and Dad jerk apart, shifting uncomfortably and clearing their throats.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” I laugh.
“Actually, Doc, I was just about to leave to come find you. We have some stuff to take care of,” Sean says.
“We do?” Carter asks, then adds, “Ohhh. That’s right . . . we do.”
“Luke, we’ll talk later,” Sean says, then turns to me and winks. “Coach . . . I’ll see you at home.”
Without another word, he bolts out the door with Carter hot on his heels, leaving me to stare after them.
“Since when does Sean call you Luke?” I turn my head to look at my father and notice the puffiness in his eyes. “Are you okay? Why are your eyes so red?”
“Oh, my contacts are giving me trouble today.” He waves me off and turns to gaze out the window. “What’s up?”
I stride over to him and place my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for what I said. You’ve always put me first, and I threw that in your face.”
“I never expected anything from you, Sport,” he says, turning from the window. “I just wanted to do what was best for you. That didn’t come with any conditions.”
“I know. I put that pressure on myself, and it was wrong to blame you for it.”
“Thank you. I really needed this today,” he chokes out.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I squeeze him tight, listening to the rapid rhythm of his heart beating.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Dad?”
“Yeah. I’m okay, Sport. More than okay, actually. You just grew up way too quick.” He pulls back and gives my chin a soft pinch like he used to when I was little. “You looking forward to Vegas?”
“I cannot wait!” I beam, grinning from ear to ear in excitement. “Sean and I are gonna do something wild and crazy while we’re there.”
Dad tilts his head to the side, brows knitting together in confusion. “You’re not gonna pull a Carter and River, are you?”
“Now, there’s an idea. One son-in-law, coming right up,” I tease.
“It’s . . . ummm.” Pressing my lips firmly together, I squeeze my eyes tight, trying really hard not to cry. “It’s . . .”
Jeez. I can’t even speak. I cover my mouth, and a sob bursts from between my lips.
“Is this a bad thing, mate?” The tattoo artist, Jake, asks, his voice thick with an Aussie accent.
“Nah, man, it’s a good thing . . . A really good thing. Come here, mi amor.” Sean turns me around, and I rest my forehead against his chest until I can compose myself.
I originally wanted a tattoo that covered my entire chest, but Jake designed a cascade of pastel pink flowers that drift along each collar bone and bloom across the top of each shoulder, then spill down the sides of my chest and wrap around to cover the scars.
Once I’ve collected myself, I spin back around to face Jake. “It’s beautiful, and everything I never knew I wanted. I really can’t thank you enough.”
“It was an honor, Hannah.” Jake raises a brow at Sean, and points at his arm. “Now, if the likes of you tells a single soul I was responsible for . . . well, whatever that is, I’ll tell ‘em you’re a bloody liar. Especially if you tell ‘em that’s an elephant. The thing looks more like a giraffe.”
I look down at the new tattoo on Sean’s forearm and burst out laughing as I pull on my top.
“Don’t let my Goddaughter hear you say that.” Sean laughs.
“That kids clearly got you wrapped around her little finger,” Jake says.
“You have no idea.” Sean pulls Jake into a hug and slaps him on the back. “It was good to see you, man. Thanks again.”
“Anytime, mate.”
“You know, if you’re ever in New York, you should give us a shout,” Sean offers up.
“Too right.” Jake grins.
We say our goodbyes, then Sean laces his fingers through mine and leads me out to the truck.
“So . . . What’s the plan now since all our friends bailed on us?” I ask, hopping into the passenger seat.
He leans in, stealing a quick kiss, then buckles me in.
“You looking to get into a little trouble, Rebel?”
Smiling up at him, I wonder what he has in store for us. “Trouble found me the minute I found you, Mac.”
He shuts my door with a smirk and rounds the vehicle. Sliding in beside me, he gives my hand a few kisses, then starts the engine.
“Oh my, God. Did you do this?” I laugh as “Steel of the Night” plays through the speakers. “You remembered?”
“How could I forget the wail of that busted up dying cat?” He chuckles, earning him a smack on the arm.
Rolling down the window, he turns the music all the way up and takes off.
I don’t even care about how cold the air is; I stick my hand out the window to catch it, and we both sing at the top of our lungs.
The further we drive, the more everything begins to look familiar.
We pull up across the street from the open gate, and he winks at me with a lopsided grin on his face, before hopping out of the truck.
“Looks like they forgot to lock up.”
“Good thing too. Climbing that fence last time almost took you out.”
“Did not.” He laughs. “I climbed that bitch like a champ.”
Sean shines the flashlight from his phone over the cactus, and I swear to God, if I never see another one again in my life, it'd still be way too soon. That shit hurts.
“So, your first game as our official head coach is in a couple of days. How are you feeling?” he asks as we hike up the path to the lookout.
“Good. I may not have played professional hockey, Mac, but I know my shit . . . I mean, we’ve already established I can skate circles around you.”
“Oh. So, that’s how we’re playin’ it,” he says with a laugh.
I look over and wink. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
“And if we lose?”
“We’re not losing. Their defense keeps overcommitting below the goal line. Sooner or later, somebody’s gonna find the open man in the slot, and that someone will be us.”
“You know that’s not what I’m getting at, Rebel. What if someone says something about your calls?”
A long, drawn-out sigh escapes my lips. “Bad calls are gonna happen. Fuck ‘em.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the top of my head. “That’s my girl. Fuck ‘em.”
We scale up the rock, and when we get to the top, I look out at the city, reflecting on how much my life has changed in the course of a year and a half.
Sean comes up behind me, wrapping one arm around my middle, and my hand settles over his.
The opening notes of Train begin to play, and I smile, leaning back against him.
“Someone’s becoming a bit of a romantic. Gone is my broody asshole.”
“Oh, he still very much lives on, he’s just tucked away right now.”
I laugh, but as Pat Monahan sings the chorus of Marry Me, something slips onto my ring finger, and my laughter trails off.
“Marry me, Rebel.”
My heart hammers in my ears, and I lose my breath. Spinning around to face him, I try to find the words to say, but they won’t come. Accepting my silence as a no, he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“I guess it’s too—”
I lunge, flinging my arms around him. “Sí. Mil veces sí.”
(Yes. A thousand times yes.)
“Careful, mi amor.”
His fingers press under my chin, then he bends his head and kisses me.
“Wait. Wait. Wait,” he says, pulling back and breaking our kiss. “You just spoke Spanish.”
“I did.”
“You learned for me?”
“And me . . .”
Emotion swells in Sean’s eyes, and I reach up to catch a tear before it falls down his cheek. He leans back in, claiming my lips again, and it’s then I realize . . . he’s always been the final link in my healing journey . . . and maybe, just maybe, I've been the one in his.