Chapter 60 #2
Gilly’s belting out one of the bluesy tunes she’s famous for in the middle of my mother’s living room, and it echoes through the house, full of friends, family, hockey players, and even the pain in the ass, Vince Vincent.
From the look on his face, he’s found his next love.
He hasn’t taken his eyes off Gilly since he arrived, and now that’s she’s singing, he’s doubly enchanted.
I could warn her about him, but she’s a big girl and can handle herself just fine. Although I know she was hoping to hit it off with a hockey player, not their diminutive PR rep.
There are so many people here at the party my mother’s throwing for Rake and me that I finally stopped trying to say hi to all of them in the hope that they just come up to me. In a down moment, I grab another piece of wedding cake, lemon chiffon with raspberry filling and buttercream frosting.
It’s freaking amazing.
That’s when one of Jonas’s kids plows into me. I catch my slice of cake before it hits the floor, leaving my hand covered in gooey deliciousness.
Would it be tacky for me to lick my fingers here, with all these people around?
I grab a napkin and wipe off as much as I can while my former boss from the accounting firm assures me she’s no longer mad at me for bailing on her, as if I’d been losing sleep over it. I nod politely while I try to pick the cake crumbs out of the beautiful diamond engagement ring Rake gave me.
The one I knew about when I proposed to him.
Yeah, I snooped in his underwear drawer. Is there any man in the universe who doesn’t hide stuff in his underwear drawer?
The night I showed him the scrapbook, I confessed I knew he was going to propose anyway. That’s why I put the teammate question in the book, so I could basically beat him to the punch or at least make him think I did.
I can be a punk that way.
After he got over his initial irritation at my messing up his plan, all the while I was holding in gales of laughter, he went to his dresser and got the ring, the one I’d already tried on several times and even worn around the house when he wasn’t home.
He then popped the question in a more formal, proper way.
It’s kind of weird to be proposed to when you’re already married, but when has anything about our relationship followed the normal route?
As Gilly’s song winds down, my mother takes the mic from her and asks everyone to gather round. I look for Rake, who finds me and takes me by the hand to the front of the room where we stand behind Mom like two stiff wedding cake toppers.
Well, I’m stiff. Rake is having the time of his life.
You see, his father apologized. I don’t know how or why, but Rake couldn’t be happier.
It’s funny. It seems like as soon as he realized he didn’t need his father’s approval, he suddenly got it.
As he explains it, this is like icing on the very nice cake that is his life.
He could live without it, but things sure are sweeter, with it.
In fact, his dad is now taking the mic from my mother, sure to embark on some sort of speech that will get both of us tearing up.
Being the center of attention will never be a natural place for me. Rake can get onto the ice and be watched by people all over the world. Myself, I prefer to stay out of the spotlight, preferably with a book in hand whenever possible.
That’s why we are perfect for each other.
I’ll continue to work in the bookstore from time to time when Tina needs me, like for special events and such.
I still go up to my mom’s cottage every now and then to get out of the city, but now Rake comes with me.
It’s nice, having a cozy little getaway, especially filled with family stuff like the jelly jars my grandfather collected for years.
What can I say? I inherited my thriftiness from the best.
“Baby, come to bed!” Rake calls.
“Coming,” I call from the living room. “Just one more minute. Gap is having a sale on T-shirts.”
He groans, but when I finally join him in bed, he pushes up on his elbows. “What are you doing? You could buy a small country, and you are trying to get in on cheap T-shirt day at the Gap? That’s just so… Petal.”
I nudge him while I giggle. “Quit saying that. You’re so Petal. This is so Petal.”
He runs a hand up under my PJ top, and I suddenly forget what we were talking about. “Hey, I was afraid I needed to start interviewing applicants for the position of warm-bodied wife. You came back just in time.”
“Thank God,” I say, reaching inside his boxers to find a rapidly growing erection. “I know you like to gripe about my shopping prowess but I got a bunch of grey T-shirts for us both for only one dollar each.”
“Yippee,” he sings. “We can dress alike in the same clothes until the end of our days. Just what I always wanted.”
“They also have neon yellow, if you prefer that,” I say.
“Now that you’re done tickling your inner bargainista, I think it’s time for me to start tickling you. If you know what I mean.”
“I’m all here for that, my love.”
In the dim lighting of our bedroom, our clothes come off and my handsome hockey-playing husband is inside me in moments. All is right with the world, which gets smaller and smaller by the second, until it’s just the two of us, moving in unison like we were always meant to be.
If you enjoyed Petal’s and Rake’s story, check out her BFF Lucy’s sizzling San Francisco Aftershocks story, next:
From Fling to Ring
Sexy hockey sensation Tyler Brooks has wagered he can turn any fling into a fiancé before the season's end.
Joke’s on him. The man’s about to be body-checked by reality.
What he doesn’t know is that he’s the main character in my icy exposé on how to resist men exactly like him.
All in the name of investigative journalism.
Think of my not-so-undercover power play, to infiltrate the world of the city's most charming and puckish hockey heartthrob, as a public service.
With steamy perks.
Yet as our game intensifies, so does the tension between us.
His smoldering glances and sly stick-handling skills are meant to be nothing more than fodder for my column, but I find myself tempted to join his fan club—for one.
This wasn’t the game plan.
Now I'm caught in a whirl of late-night locker room confessions, ice-melting kisses, and moments that blur the lines between a power play and something that's starting to feel like a perfect match.
With my deadline looming, I remind myself that I'm here to create the ultimate playbook on dodging a heart-stealing, playboy hockey rogue.
Not fall for one.