Epilogue Hadley
A FEW MONTHS LATER
Squeezing my dad’s hand for dear life, I wince when I see my husband scuffling with the winger from the opposite team against the boards. I do my best to return to my neutral face, hence why my dad’s hand is getting ripped off.
I should have stayed up in the wives’ room where nobody would be able to witness my observation of Connor during a game. But I need to feel closer, and it’s kind of, well, exhilarating next to the ice.
That is, until my husband gets the whistle from the ref for cross-checking the other team’s winger, Vaughn Madden. Just great, now I’m going to hear Briggs complaining about this for days, while Connor just takes the high road.
I breathe softly to stay calm. You never have any idea when a camera or fan might catch you.
Thankfully it’s a home game, so my dad, keeping to his promise, stays close. Ford and Brielle are sitting up in a private room with Declan to watch the game.
“Number 19, two minutes,” the ref calls out Connor’s trip to the penalty box.
I bite my tongue, as I can tell Connor is now more pissed, and he will be sulking in the penalty box in the minutes to come.
“It’s fine. He already scored twice, and we still have a period to go,” my father leans in to assure me.
I huff. “He’ll be grumbly later.” Never with me, though. Connor may be an aggressive cocky ass on the ice, but he is the polar opposite when at home.
Grabbing my purse that I had set on the floor, I search for my lip balm, only to smile softly to myself when Connor’s wedding ring hanging around my neck swings in the air.
He’s not allowed to wear rings during games.
He brings it with him on the road, but when it’s a home game, it’s safe around my neck until after the game when I’m waiting by the locker room.
My dad rubs my shoulders as the next two minutes fly by, and then Connor is whizzing across the ice, outskating the other team that is eager to block him.
“What did I miss? I heard booing,” Isla asks as she slides back onto the seat next to me.
“You picked the worst moment to go to the bathroom, which by the way, are you okay? You do that a lot,” I’m a little curt, but the ref’s earlier call has me livid.
“Feisty. Sorry if nature calls,” she defends.
“I’ll give you two a minute, and I’ll go grab some snacks.” My dad seemed to have a hint that Isla and I need a little space.
My eyes travel from the ice to Isla who looks a little pale. “What’s up with you?” I wonder.
“Nothing.” She’s lying.
Drawing a line from her to the ice then back, it registers to me that we’re playing Tampa tonight.
“Nothing to do with who’s on the ice?” My brows raise.
She shakes her head, but it feels as though it’s a struggle.
I touch her arm. “Spill it.”
It feels as though the floodgates are opening and her face relaxes. “You know how I had that conference in Tampa a while ago?”
“Yeah, the one where you got stuck there because of a hurricane.”
She nods. “I wasn’t exactly alone when I safely rode out the storm in a hotel.”
Excitement spreads through me. “You were riding someone else during the storm, weren’t you?”
Isla bites her bottom lip. “It’s not ideal.”
“Why not? It’s great. You are allowed to have fun. Who was it?” I inquire with deep curiosity.
She laughs nervously. “The guy who just put your husband in the penalty box.”
My jaw goes slack. “Vaughn Madden?”
Guilt floods her face, and she brings her hand to her forehead. “Nobody can know. Especially since my brother isn’t a fan. It was a one-time thing.”
“Really? I mean, he’s not hard on the eyes. Long-distance isn’t ideal, but it’s no different than if he played here in Lake Spark and had to travel for the season.” I feel like I’m getting carried away.
Proven by the fact that Isla places her hand over mine on her arm. “Take a chill pill. It really was a one-time spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. He wasn’t even there when I woke up.”
“What an ass.” Now my sour mood has returned.
“Can we forget about it?” she pleads.
I roll my eyes and feel frustrated for her. “Fine. But give him a piece of your mind after the game. You’re entitled to that.”
“No, Hadley. We’re all entitled to a no-strings night. Now, will you focus on your man who is back on the ice and already intercepted a pass?” She smiles softly.
My attention moves forward to watch the ice where my husband has rejoined the game. “Damn. He has talent,” I comment in awe, because it never gets old, the way he always goes straight back into it.
The game is a win for us, and I find myself waiting outside the press room, staring at a television screen mounted on the wall, watching as reporters ask my husband questions for post-game analysis.
There’s something about Connor slightly flushed from the exercise, mixed with wet hair and a grin, that has my panties melting.
“Look, off the ice, I consider Vaughn Madden a friend. We played together before, and he was at my wedding. On the ice, we’re not always friends, but that also means we can push one another’s boundaries more easily, as the trust is there.
It just happened that tonight the Spinners played better, with a tight defense, partly because I wasn’t afraid to go in strong,” Connor speaks into a mic.
Another reporter asks a question that I can only hear a mumble of.
It causes Connor to grin. “Yeah, we have a few days off for Christmas, but I’ll use that to do a mini reset. I don’t want my head out of the game since we are back next week playing, but it is my first Christmas as a married man, so I intend to enjoy that with my wife.”
I love that answer. Even more, I love that it wraps up the round of questions, and Connor is walking straight to the hall to me, with the cameras still following him.
He kisses me real quick while I take my necklace off to return his ring. “Good game,” I congratulate.
“Would have been better if I didn’t get that penalty,” he rumbles a sound.
I massage his shoulder. “Relax, forget about it as soon as we’re out of here. Besides, you have a turkey to roast tomorrow.”
He half-laughs. “Thanks for volunteering us to host.”
“It’s tradition that the newlyweds host,” I counter.
“Since when?” he challenges.
“Mmm, since I made up that rule.” I interlace our arms as we walk toward the players’ parking lot underneath the arena. “Besides, we have a dog at home that would hate to miss out.”
Connor chuckles again. “Sure, we’ll host dinner for twenty because our dog might have hurt feelings.”
I rest my head on Connor’s shoulder as we walk, enjoying our post-game routine. Especially since I know hard and fast sex is coming later.
Staring down at the kitchen counter, I give Connor knowing eyes. “See? Christmas dinner is easy as pie.”
He removes more foil with a grin. “That’s because your version of cooking is having your mom do everything and bring it over in tin dishes.”
I splay my hands out. “Delegating is cooking.”
Connor walks a step toward me to pull me close, and his fingers entwine in my hair as he jerks me forward for a kiss.
“You’re a genius. Briggs is bringing beer, my mom pie, and our little brothers will be annoying shits as always.
Not to mention my aunt and uncle will bring my cute little goddaughter and her persistence to ask one hundred times if a turkey is an animal. ” He loves it, he does.
“Sounds wonderful. Isla already brought the wine and is changing out of her yoga pants. I’ll go change too since your hoodie doesn’t feel like festive attire.”
He draws me in for another kiss just as we feel Ace jump at our feet. We both look down, and Connor sighs. “I’ll give him a quick walk and keep him out of the kitchen.”
“Great.”
We both part to head our separate ways, but he tows me back since he doesn’t let go of my hand. “I love you,” he reminds me.
“I love you too.” I blush every time.
A minute later, I’m upstairs on my way to find a sweater dress, but I hear a sniffle. Knowing Isla was using the guest bedroom, I decide to check on her.
“Isla?”
The door is slightly ajar, so I take the liberty to push it farther open, and I find my friend sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping a tear away.
Instantly, I’m concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Hadley, I need to tell you something,” she sniffles. “I can’t keep it in anymore.”
“You’re scaring me,” I inform her and sit next to her, touching her arm in comfort. “It’s okay. If you don’t like my attempt at a charcuterie board, you can tell me. Is that what it is?”
She smiles through her tears. “It’s delicious, just my stomach didn’t agree.”
I frown. “Oh gosh, I can’t afford to poison people at dinner tonight, not when a hockey team is relying on two of the guys present.”
“They’ll be fine. It’s me. All me. I’m pregnant.”
My eyes wash over her body to study if she is joking with me, but she isn’t. I’m frozen from shock. “W-what?”
“A few months, actually.”
“Huh?” I’m speechless. “How.”
“A hurricane,” she hiccups.
My eyes drive side to side as I register the timeline. “As in…”
She blows out a long breath. “Nobody knows. Not even…” She can’t seem to muster the name.
But I can, and this is a twist. “Vaughn Madden,” I croak out.
And she nods.