33. Epilogue
SLOAN
Our First New Year’s Eve as Husband and Wife
“ W hy does it look like Santa dropped off his luggage to stay for a week?” Leo barks when he spies three suitcases and a giant box stacked in the back hall.
The leftover decorations are still twinkling from Christmas as we gear up for tonight’s festivities. Since the team spends Christmas with their families, we always celebrate the holidays together on New Year’s Eve.
“Not Santa. Someone cuter,” I say, as the chime of the oven timer cuts through the rowdy crowd playing holiday charades in the dining room. I flip on the interior oven light to check that the Christmas bread knots are puffy and golden, the white glaze melting over them like snow on a mountaintop. I pull them out of the oven, eyeing the clock. Not long until midnight and barely enough time to prepare Leo for our mystery houseguest.
The fresh rolls are heavy on the cinnamon and vanilla and fill the house with the glorious scent of home. Lights twinkle around the windows and a fat, slightly misshapen Christmas tree fills the corner of the living room, its branches weighed down by teal, red, and gold balls, the Crushers’ colors. The fire crackles in the fireplace as overcrowded stockings line the mantel. This year, Jaz decided to gift the entire team Crushers’ stockings, decorated with the logo and each player’s number.
When we first bought the house and rented out rooms to a few hockey players, we hosted a New Year’s Eve party, complete with ridiculous holiday games and toasts at midnight. It’s become an annual tradition now, along with most of the team, a few friends, and some staff crammed into the dining room, picking the buffet clean like vultures. They’re tossing out outlandish guesses for charades—things like “Santa stuck in a chimney” and “Mrs. Claus wrestling a reindeer.” And, in true Crushers’ fashion, the competitiveness makes it feel like we’re one big, dysfunctional family.
In the background, Elvis bemoans his “Blue Christmas,” and Dad nurses a Christmas mule drink next to the fire, discussing the best Christmas movies with Tate.
“I like It’s a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Story, ” Dad says.
“ Die Hard is the best Christmas movie ever!” Leo shouts from the hallway where he’s trying to figure out who our mystery guest is.
“ Die Hard is not a Christmas movie,” Tate fires back.
“It has Christmas in it—that makes it a Christmas movie,” Leo argues.
Dad chuckles, then looks at me, and I offer him a smile that says I’m glad he’s here. I’m working on feeling excited about having him in my life again, rather than being nervous about what the future might hold. This is only his second visit since the wedding, and we’re still figuring out how to be a family again. He’s not a completely different person, but it seems like he’s trying. We all are.
There’s a thud in the hallway as Leo shouts a muffled “What in the...” before I realize what’s happened.
“Drop a suitcase on your foot?” I ask, lining one of Granny’s Christmas trays with the fresh bread knots.
Vale laughs, then wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me closer. “He deserves it for being a Grinch during our holiday party.”
Leo limps into the kitchen, his brow knitted in frustration. “Who’s responsible for the pink suitcases? I’m pretty sure the small one is packed with bricks.”
I hand Vale the tray before turning to Leo. “I’ll give you three hints. She’s prettier than you, skates well, and her apartment has water everywhere.”
Leo huffs out a frustrated growl, his eyes pure fire. “It’s Victoria’s stuff, isn’t it? Please tell me she’s making a donation to the needy and not staying here.”
“Oh she’s staying,” I confirm. “And not just for one night.”
“You can’t let her stay here,” he argues.
“Why not?” Vale asks, still holding the tray of Christmas rolls while wearing Granny’s Christmas apron that looks adorably out of place on his stellar body.
“Because she’s . . .” Leo searches for the word.
“Annoyingly pretty?” I ask.
“Inconveniently immune to your charms?” Vale adds.
“I was going to say unpleasant,” Leo corrects us.
“Maybe you should try being nice to her,” Vale suggests, as he steals one of the Christmas knots, inhaling it before I can swat his hand away.
“I have tried, but she’s impossible.”
“And you’re so easy to live with?” I arch an eyebrow.
He doesn’t deny this, but he can’t stand that he’s met his match—fire colliding with fire.
“You’ll survive,” I tell Leo unsympathetically. “Her pipes burst in her apartment due to the cold snap. She got the water turned off, but it’s a disaster. And with it being the holidays, she has to wait for someone to fix the damage. In this weather, I’m not turning down someone who needs our help over the holidays.”
He drags a hand through his hair and exhales loudly. “Well, she’s not staying upstairs... or using my bathroom. The last thing I need is her bath gel hoarding space in my shower.”
“You don’t want to smell like Japanese cherry blossoms?” I ask with a smirk.
Vale leans against the counter. “My old room is the only one we have, unless you want to volunteer yours?”
He scoffs. “I’d rather sleep next to Tate before I give that woman anything of mine. As long as she’s here, I’m going to lock myself in my room. Pretend she doesn’t exist.”
“Let me know how that works out for you,” Vale says with a wink. “By the way, she’s coming to the party any minute.”
His eyebrows fly up. “Tonight?”
“Rourke invited her.” I point my spatula at him. “Which means you need to be nice.”
Leo smirks. “During the holidays, there are only two choices—naughty or nice. And I think we both know which one I’m leaning toward.”
“It’s only for a few days,” Vale says, taking another Christmas knot. This time I pull it away before he stuffs it in his mouth.
Leo crosses his arms. “Then I’ll gladly pay for a hotel room. But she can’t stay here.”
“Who can’t be here?” Tate asks, suddenly appearing in the kitchen with an empty bowl. “By the way, we’re out of the holiday pretzel mix.”
“Again?” I ask, even though I secretly love that the guys inhale whatever I put in front of them.
I pass him another bowl of the chocolate-covered peanuts-caramel corn-and-pretzel mix. “By the way, Victoria’s moving in temporarily.” Then I nod toward Leo, who’s rubbing his sore foot. “Scrooge here wants to put her up in a hotel when the weather is terrible. ”
“It’s already snowing,” Tate says, glancing out the window. “And it never snows here.”
“Perfect for the ice queen,” Leo mutters.
“Oh come on, Leo, where’s your holiday spirit?” I tweak his cheek as the doorbell rings. Since it only rings every fourth time or so, this is a minor Christmas miracle.
“Hello?” Victoria’s voice calls from the hall.
Leo scowls.
I bat his arm. “You look like you swallowed a grumpy elf.” Then I give him a warning look before I leave to welcome Victoria.
Victoria stands in the front hall, admiring the small Christmas tree on a table as she shrugs off her red wool coat dusted in snowflakes. “It’s like a snow globe out there—even the roads are turning into a skating rink.”
She’s holding a dozen snowman cookies on a plate, wearing a cute white stocking cap with a furry ball on top. It matches the soft white sweater that slips off one shoulder.
Rourke appears in the hall behind me, grinning like he’s up to something. “Here, let me help,” he says, taking her cookies. “Sounds like the roads are too bad to drive home tonight. I call first dibs on the couch!”
Given the way he’s suddenly turned on the charm, he’s clearly staking his claim on our pretty guest.
“No, you can’t,” Leo barks, standing in the corner of the dining room with arms crossed, looking surly.
“Why do you care? You already have a bed here,” Rourke argues.
“I don’t care about you ,” Leo argues as his jaw tightens. “But you’re not staying here. You can skate home if it’s that bad.” He shoots Rourke a dark look.
I clear my throat, and give Victoria an apologetic smile. “Maybe you can join Jaz in the dining room for charades. They’re just starting another round. ”
Jaz waves from the dining room, her adorable baby bump peeking from under her shirt.
“She can be on my team,” Rourke volunteers.
Leo hangs back, his eyes following Victoria and Rourke to their seats. He looks like he’s about to shoot flaming darts from his eyes and pin Rourke to the ground.
I grab Vale in the kitchen. “You need to play referee.”
He frowns. “But I thought I was helping you in the kitchen tonight. I’m not risking your health on those two idiots.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer, kissing my nose.
“Vale, I’ve never felt better, and I haven’t fainted since our honeymoon. But I’m afraid of a hockey brawl breaking out over a certain figure skater. Here...” I grab a tray of holiday cheesecake, drizzled in strawberry and chocolate sauce, and shove it into Vale’s hands. “Distract them with dessert.”
For the next hour, Vale passes out cheesecake and keeps our holiday charades civil, until the game ends in a tie. When I finally join the party in the living room, Victoria is chatting with Jaz by the fireplace, while Leo moves to sit with Lauren, our PR director. Victoria takes a sip of her drink, her eyes flicking to Leo who’s laughing at something Lauren says. Jaz and I exchange a knowing look.
“So, Victoria, how was your Christmas?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
She shrugs. “The usual. Tense and awkward,” she says, giving me a weary smile. “I was so relieved when Rourke invited me tonight. It gave me a legitimate excuse for not attending my parents’ party.”
Rourke perks up across the room at the sound of his name and makes his way over, his gaze pinned on Victoria. It’s not that I care if Rourke flirts with our guest. The real problem is that Leo cares... a little too much.
“Hey, Rourke,” Victoria says. “Do you have some kind of superhuman hearing? We were literally just talking about you.”
Rourke raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, I wouldn’t want to brag, but I have a lot of superpowers.” He grins and flexes slightly. “Might have something to do with these guns.”
Victoria laughs, then lightly touches his arm. “Is that the secret?”
Across the room, Leo’s attention snaps toward us. His jaw clenches as he watches Victoria, her laugh a little too forced, her hand lingering on Rourke’s arm. Lauren says something to him, but he doesn’t respond—his focus is locked on Victoria.
“Hey, Rourke,” Leo calls out, his voice louder than necessary as he strides over, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Didn’t know you were taking tips from me.”
Rourke nearly chokes on his eggnog. “You? Everyone knows I’m the team’s heartthrob.”
A strained laugh comes out of Leo’s mouth, and I can tell Rourke’s grating on his nerves. “I seriously question that.”
The problem with Leo the Ego is that he won’t back down. Even if he doesn’t actually want to date Victoria, he’s not about to let Rourke win.
“Let Victoria decide,” Rourke says, turning to her. “Who’s the bigger heartthrob?”
Victoria glances between the two hockey players, her lips quirking before she locks eyes with Leo. “At least Rourke knows how to charm a lady.”
“Does he?” Leo says cooly. There’s no anger in his eyes—just a spark, like he’s enjoying the challenge.
I spin around to find Vale, but he’s nowhere in sight. “Do you know where Vale went?” I whisper to Jaz.
“I saw him step outside to take a call,” she says. “He told Brax it was important.”
Jaz hurries off to track down the brothers while I step into the middle of the living room, raising my glass. “Alright, since it’s almost the new year, has anyone made a resolution they actually plan on sticking to this time?”
Tate sits on the arm of the couch. “I’m going to stop pretending I like kale smoothies. It’s basically grass, and I’m done pretending it’s not.”
Everyone laughs, their high spirits fueled by eggnog and Christmas mules. I sneak a glance toward the door, waiting for Vale to come back in. He’s been outside for a few minutes now, and it’s either his mom wishing him a happy New Year, or something big is happening.
“Well, Jaz and I have an announcement for the team,” I say. “We’re starting a new social media account and this will be unlike anything we’ve ever done.”
“How’s that news?” Jaxon asks.
“Because the account is a fan account, called Crushin’ on Crushers . It’s for people who want to submit their fan love for a player. They fill out an anonymous form and we post it.”
“You mean a place they can troll us?” Leo asks.
Jaz suddenly comes inside, her cheeks pink from the cold, jumping right into the conversation. “No, it’s a place where they can give an anonymous shoutout to their favorite players. We want to encourage more women to attend hockey games and shift your reputations from macho men to sweethearts.”
“Who said we want to be sweethearts?” Leo asks, crossing his arms. “I’m okay with our image.”
Okay, so maybe this is going to be a harder sell with the team than I thought. But the women we’ve talked to love the idea. If it boosts interest in the team—and our attendance numbers—we’ll consider it a win.
“Funny thing, Leo,” I say with a smile. “You were the first person who got a shoutout.”
“Really?” He sits up a little straighter. “What’s it say?”
I lift a shoulder. “I thought you weren’t interested?”
“I’m not . . .” he backpedals.
“Then you’ll have to wait and see,” I say. “We’ll officially start posting them after the New Year and continue to the end of the season.”
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Vale steps back inside with his brother, his face lit up with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. His cheeks are red from the cold as he strides toward me, his eyes locking with mine.
“What happened?” I ask.
Vale pulls me close and whispers in my ear, “That was my agent. I got it. The NHL contract with Tampa.”
My breath catches, and I pull back to look at him, and see the joy on his face.
“Vale, that's amazing!” I shriek, but my voice is lost in the swell of laughter and Christmas music. “How did this happen?”
“After my agent said the short-term contract was up at the end of the year, you told me to take the offer with the best contract. Jimmy went straight to Tampa. Apparently, they didn’t want to wait until after the New Year. They sent the contract tonight.” He pauses to study me. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“I couldn’t be happier,” I murmur. “As long as this is home for you.”
“ You are home for me.” He slips his arms around my waist, the smell of cinnamon and fresh snow wrapping around me. My heart kicks up as he leans closer. Vale kisses the side of my neck, reminding me all the ways he loves me. I snuggle into his warmth, leaning into his chest, and when his lips find mine, I drink him in. It’s the best feeling in the world to be loved by my husband, and though I’d like to kiss him more, I have to keep this PG-rated in front of my dad.
“Hey, everyone, it’s time for the countdown to midnight!” Jaz announces. A few people group up, ready to hug whoever is close by when the clock strikes the hour.
“Ten, nine, eight...” We count down together before the clock hits midnight and the room erupts with cheers, confetti, and the clink of glasses. Everyone is hugging, kissing, and celebrating, but I can’t stop staring at Vale, feeling like this moment is ours. He leans down and kisses me, slow and tender this time, his hands cradling my face. The world seems to pause, just for us, as if this moment will never end. So many things have changed, but this will be the one thing that lasts— us together, always.
I glance over Vale’s shoulder and catch sight of Leo and Victoria standing awkwardly near the back of the room. Leo shifts his weight and tips a drink to his lips, while Victoria crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at him.
“Look at them,” I whisper to Vale. “It’s like they’re trying to pretend the other person doesn’t exist.”
“He’s got it bad,” Vale remarks.
“You think?” I feel my eyebrows lift.
“It’s so obvious it hurts to watch him.”
Suddenly, Victoria turns to Leo and says something. He freezes for a beat, before he steps forward, and pulls her in for a kiss. Then he pulls back and walks away, like it never happened.
I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh. “It’s about time.”
Vale wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “New Year’s magic,” he murmurs against my ear.
Everyone is loading up on food and drinks again as my dad turns to us. “How did you guys end up married in Vegas again? I haven’t heard the full story.”
The room quiets and everyone shifts toward us.
“Vale pretended to be her fiancé to make her ex-boyfriend jealous,” Brax puts in.
“Why haven’t I heard this before?” Victoria asks.
“Leo didn’t tell you?” Jaz asks.
Victoria shakes her head.
“It’s our perfect wedding story.” Vale grins, his hand stroking my back lightly. “Never planned to elope in Vegas.”
Victoria claps her hands together. “I adore surprise Vegas weddings. Go on.”
I look at Vale, who’s watching me with a smile that invites me to tell the story. His grin unlocks my heart, like a tiny key opening a diary, as sunlight falls across the pages of our story.
He squeezes my hand and waits for me to begin. He knows I love this story. “It all started when I woke up to an impossibly good dream.”