Epilogue
Penn
The puck smacks my stick and I take off down the wing, Jaxon right there with me. He gives me a quick pass, I send it back, and for the first time, it’s not about brute force or clearing a path. It’s about rhythm. Timing. Trust.
It’s about connection.
Being part of this team. Part of the play.
The scrape of my skates cuts sharp against the ice.
The cold air bites at my cheeks. The crowd’s roar vibrates through my chest like a drumbeat.
Jaxon barrels toward the net, pulling the goalie with him, then threads it back to me in the slot.
Instinct takes over. I wind up and snap the puck forward.
It rockets past the goalie’s outstretched glove. The goal light flashes and the alarm blares.
Goal.
The horn blasts so loud it rattles my ribs. The crowd leaps to its feet in a sea of jerseys and foam fingers, the noise crashing down like a wave. Jaxon pumps his fist, looping back and slamming his glove against mine.
“Not bad for an old enforcer,” he grins. The chirp feels more like brotherhood than anything else.
I laugh, breathless, heart pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with the win. Because when I look up into the stands, I find her.
Jaylynn.
Headset snug around her ears, tablet balanced in one hand, phone pressed to the other. Her pen tucked behind her ear like she’s been born for this job. The Bucks’ PR director, commanding the chaos of the arena with sharp precision and calm fire.
And still, she feels me looking. Her gaze flicks up, just for a second, and locks with mine.
Everything else falls away.
Her lips curve in that smile. The one that says she sees me. Not just the fists. Not just the mistakes. Me.
The pile of bodies swallows me as the guys mob Jaxon and me, but that look—her look—stays burned in my chest all the way back to the locker room.
I step inside and wince. The place reeks of sweat, tape, and victory.
Laughter and chirps bounce off the concrete walls.
Water bottles spray like champagne. Someone blasts music from a speaker.
And for once, I’m not standing on the outside, half-dreading the night’s headlines. I’m in it. I belong here.
“Hey, Penn,” Brady calls, ripping tape from his pads. “You hitting Kilting Around later?”
“Can’t,” I say, tugging off my jersey. “Jaylynn’s folks and my aunt are in town.
Wedding planning.” I groan dramatically, but inside, I can’t wait.
I can’t wait to stand in front of everyone—her family, my team, the whole town of Snowberry if they want to show up—minus Dylan of course, and finally make her my wife.
Dylan, ugh. I don’t like to take pleasure in other people’s misfortunes, but hearing he was back home, licking his wounds after getting kicked out of the mayor’s office for misappropriation of funds, made me a little happy.
Groans, whistles, chirps. Jaxon chucks a roll of tape at my head.
I duck. “Hey.”
“Look at you. Already whipped,” Nicklas says laughing.
Yeah, I am and I love it.
“Careful, Nicklas,” I warn. “You’ll get yours one of these days.”
“The only thing I’m getting is a double dose of bunnies tonight, Radman.
” He flips me off and saunters to the showers.
I follow and shower quickly, anxious to get outside to my big family.
I pull on my jeans and a Bucks hoodie before slipping out the side door.
The March night air is cool, crisp, buzzing with leftover energy from the win.
Reporters hover nearby, fans press up against the barriers waving jerseys and signs, but none of it matters.
Because there’s only one person I’m looking for.
Jaylynn comes running over, hair tumbling loose from her bun, headset hanging around her neck. I don’t wait. I scoop her up and spin her once, catching the laugh that bursts from her throat.
“Good game, winger,” she teases, her voice low just for me.
“Good game, PR queen.” I kiss the top of her head, breathing her in, my heart soaring with all the things I feel for her. How did I ever get so lucky?
When I set her down, I glance up, and my chest goes tight.
Her family is everywhere. Her dad is ribbing Jaxon about an open net he missed in the first period, hands waving as he exaggerates the play.
Her mom is deep in conversation with Aunt Elaine, both of them laughing like old friends already.
Her nieces and nephews are in full chaos mode, darting around in oversized Bucks jerseys, hockey sticks made of foam whacking at each other as if the sidewalk is their own private rink.
It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s perfect.
And for the first time in my life, I know exactly where I fit.
Right here. With Jaylynn. With her family. With my aunt. With the team that finally feels like more than just sweaters and ice time.
This… this is home.
Jaylynn slips her hand into mine, her thumb brushing over my knuckles like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Mom wants to check the country club again tomorrow,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Something about the floral arrangements clashing with the drapes.”
I groan, and she laughs.
“Stop being a Grinch. You love it,” she says and gives me a playful whack.
I do. Because it means we’re building something together.
“I thought you liked me being a Grinch,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes. “By the way,” she adds slyly.
“Sloane texted me. She’s coming to the wedding.
” I honestly love that the two have grown close.
Behind the glitz and glamor, and the curated social media posts, Sloane turned out to be really sweet and caring, a woman who simply needed a friend.
Leave it to my girl to make sure she had one.
“I might introduce her to Nicklas. They’d be cute. ”
I snort. “I don’t know much about matchmaking. I only know Nicklas likes the bunnies. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”
She wags playful brows. “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.”
I smile, because this—planning the future, teasing about teammates, the way the WAGs have taken her in—it all feels like proof. Proof of what we’ve built. A life bigger than bruises. Bigger than my past. Bigger than I ever thought I deserved.
I tug her closer until she’s right up against me, the arena lights glowing behind her like a halo. “You know something, Jay?”
She tilts her head, eyes curious. “What?”
“I spent years thinking I didn’t belong anywhere. Not in the league. Not in the locker room. Not even in my own skin. But then you…” My throat tightens, but I push through. “You made me see it. I do belong. With you. With this family. With all of it.”
Her eyes soften, and that warmth that always undoes me pools there. “Penn…”
I kiss her before she can say more, right there in the middle of the chaos. Kids laughing. Teammates yelling. Families colliding like one big quilt stitched together by love and loyalty and hockey.
When I finally pull back, she’s grinning, breathless. “You sound like a man who’s found his forever.”
“I am.”
And for the first time in my life, I believe it down to my bones.
Forever is right here.
***
Thank you so much for reading, PEPPERMINT STICK in my Boston Bucks series. I hope you loved this story as much as I loved writing it. Stayed tuned for Jaxon and Rowan’s story in Broken Stick.
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Happy Reading,
Cathryn