Chapter 11
11
CONSTANCE
Constance followed Keith, stunned by how driven he seemed as he wove through the crowds of players, families, and staff – stopping in front of a woman holding a camera.
“Hi,” she said brightly, smiling. “Tons of people, some nametags are peeling off, I’m Jamie Salas.”
“Salas, I need to borrow your wife for a minute – Coach’s orders,” Keith said, only to see Salas lift an eyebrow as if to say ‘ Come again? ’ before rolling his eyes.
“Just bring her back,” Salas said pointedly. “I’m kinda partial to her.”
“I’m kinda partial to you too, big guy,” Jamie retorted, winking at her husband, who just smirked at her as Constance stared in confusion. Salas looked like Death with a hockey stick for a scythe in his hoodie - especially with all that black hair with those dark eyes.
And then suddenly, Contstance was being tugged in the other direction, nearly stumbling as she listened to Keith talking quickly in hushed voices with Jamie Salas.
“Coach wants a photo and a video…”
“I got you… do you have the gear?”
“On it – I already piled it on a table nearby…”
“Sweet. This will look good, just keep it simple…”
“That’s what he said.”
“I’ll type up something, make it look good, and…”
“What is going on?” Constance said as Keith stopped – and handed her a helmet, uttering “Hold that.”
She stood there, holding a helmet and watching in confusion.
“Hey, Paige!” Keith hollered.
“What Keith …” Paige retorted – just as loudly as a ripple of laughter surrounded them, and to her surprise, Jamie was filming everything. Constance just stared, watching in amazement.
Keith was standing there, holding a hockey stick, his feet apart, shoulders thrown back, almost like he was facing down an opponent in a western.
“You think you’ve got what it takes to play hockey?” Keith said loudly – and her daughter surged to her feet, turning to look at him, almost taking the exact same stance as her new stepdad.
“I know I do.”
“Are you ready to prove it?”
“Anytime – anywhere.”
To her surprise, Keith looked over his shoulder at Jamie and Constance, smiling. “That’s my girl…” and while Constance wasn’t in the film industry or familiar with recording videos, as she looked at Jamie’s camera, Paige could be seen advancing toward Keith with that determined look. There must have been something on Constance’s face that her husband saw because he turned, sank down to one knee before Paige, and smiled at her.
“How would you like to be on my team?”
“A Wolverine?”
“A Kit – the child of a Wolverine – and the first person to join our new youth hockey team. You wanna learn from your stepdad?” he said gently, smiling at Paige – and extended his hand toward Constance, wiggling his fingers.
She leaped forward, giving him the helmet, and he put it on Paige’s head using one hand to hold it. Man, she could not get over how smooth, sexy, and masculine it was to see him manage that helmet with his hand and fingers splayed across the plastic – and putting it on her child’s head as Paige’s features softened. He handed her the hockey stick, his expression tender, and smiled.
“Show me what you’ve got on the ice, kiddo, when we have our first practice together – and make me proud.”
Keith’s voice was steady, filled with warmth and encouragement, but Constance could barely breathe. Her hand flew to her mouth, pressing against the gasp that threatened to escape. The entire rink had gone quiet. Every player, every coach, every bystander had stopped what they were doing, their eyes locked on Keith and Paige as if the world itself had stilled for this moment.
Paige’s breath hitched. She stared at Keith with wide, disbelieving eyes. Constance’s heart pounded in her chest, knowing exactly what was running through her daughter’s mind. She had spent so long dealing with the loss of her father, and then here comes Keith – an outsider barging into their family, and Paige never quite finding where she belonged or fit into this strange new life she had been thrust into. And now—now she was being invited into something bigger than herself… with her stepfather guiding her.
“Are you serious?” Paige’s voice was barely a whisper, and yet it echoed in the silence, fragile with hope and hesitation.
Keith’s smile was easy, reassuring.
“Very,” he confirmed, his voice firm with certainty. “It’s gonna be a lot of hard work, but it’s fun. And the friends you make on the ice? They last forever.”
The words hung in the air, wrapping around Constance like a warm embrace. She saw it happen—the exact second Paige realized that this wasn’t just a casual offer.
It was an invitation.
A place to belong.
And then, just when she thought the moment couldn’t possibly get more overwhelming, a sound erupted through the entire crowd around them. The team—dozens of voices—threw their heads back and let out a wild, untamed howl. The sound vibrated through the room, echoed against the walls, and reverberated through the very air in her lungs.
It was fierce.
It was primal.
It was acceptance .
Paige’s face split into a grin so pure, so radiant, that Constance’s vision blurred with unshed tears. And then—without hesitation—her daughter lunged forward, throwing her arms around Keith’s neck.
Constance sucked in a sharp breath.
Keith didn’t hesitate, not even for a second. His arms came around Paige, holding her tightly, his expression unreadable for a moment before he closed his eyes and smiled. A real, genuine, unguarded smile.
The smile of a daddy…
Constance’s chest ached. She pressed a trembling hand to her heart, feeling it splinter in the best possible way.
“I think I might cry,” Jamie whispered beside her, her voice thick with emotion. “That was the sweetest freakin’ thing…”
Constance let out a shuddering laugh, blinking back the tears that blurred her vision. She had spent so many nights worrying, so many days praying that Paige would find someone to lift her up, to believe in her, to help her find her footing in this world.
And here he was.
She exhaled sharply, her voice breaking as she murmured, “I adore that man.”
And as if the moment couldn’t possibly be more perfect, Kayla ran over, sliding seamlessly into the embrace, wrapping both arms around Paige and Keith. She would follow her sister’s lead – every… single… time.
The three of them stood there, locked in a moment so perfect, so beautifully unscripted, that Constance knew—deep in her heart—her daughter had just found her place in the world.
And she was lucky enough to have discovered her partner, her friend… and possibly a soulmate.
Keith.
A few hours later, they were all in the car heading home – and silent. Paige and Kayla were exhausted, Kayla having already fallen asleep and Paige wasn’t far behind. As Constance looked over her shoulder at her daughter, she saw the slow blink of exhaustion – and smiled.
Keith reached over the center console, lacing his fingers with hers. She looked up at him, met his quick glance, and saw such contentedness on his expression that she couldn’t help but stare.
She had always thought he was handsome, even from the first moment they spoke despite telling him she wasn’t interested… but this self-awareness, this quiet confidence, this knowledge that he’d finally found his way to fit into her family, knowing that they were going home to be alone, to talk, air out everything, and mend any and all rifts between them so they could be a couple, and whatever imaginary issue he had in his mind, wanting to take things slow – that was ending tonight.
As they pulled up to the house, he parked on the U-shaped driveway in front and looked at her.
“You carry Kayla, I’ll get Paige,” he said softly, glancing in the rearview mirror and smiling. “She’s asleep.”
“It’s been a big day.”
“Don’t I know it,” Keith chuckled and then smiled. “But come save me – I draw the line at shoes and socks removal.”
“I’ve got you,” she chuckled, smiling. She had noticed over the last twenty-four hours that anytime the kids got into something, Kayla yelled from the potty to come wipe her, Keith got this weird look on his face and shook his head, exclaiming – “I’m out.”
Children were… interesting, humbling, and inquisitive. Constance had been questioned about her boobs, her pudgy belly, her stretchmarks, and even a hair on her chin once by both children. Yes, having children wasn’t for the faint of heart and it started from pregnancy on. Everything was touched, poked, prodded, measured – then it swelled, leaked, sagged, or what-have-you— only to eventually become a walking, talking person with zero filter on their mouth who only saw the world and asked questions others wouldn’t dare to. It had to be a culture shock for Keith, and he was taking it better than some.
They each hefted up a sleeping child, carrying them quietly into their rooms and Constance quickly changed Kayla before moving into the hallway – and Keith was already there, leaving the room.
“Tag…” he chuckled.
“Tag…” she grinned, nodding.
Constance made quick work of stripping Paige free of her jeans, pulling the covers over her, and picking up the socks off the end of the bed where Keith had removed them. That thought made her smile thinking of her tender husband and his delicate sensibilities. The man was in for a wake-up call if they ever had a child together because that first diaper change would be shocking…
She chuckled leaving the room.
Walking down the hallway toward their room, she paused as she saw him sitting on the couch, alone, staring out the windows and waiting. She was kind of glad that they were going to talk out here instead of in their room because she really wanted to get at the center of whatever was bothering him and holding him back.
The more she got to know him, the more she realized what a sensitive soul he was deep down on the inside. He might pretend to be some tough hockey player, but he was like the ‘Dad’ of the team, and she saw it tonight. He spoke with everyone, shook hands, nodded, and smiled – but there was a look in his eyes when it came to her that was so different, so possessive, that it made her knees weak.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she moved closer, settling beside him on the couch. The warmth of his presence seeped into her skin, spreading through her like sunlight after a long winter. Her soul sighed with delight at the way his lips curled into a smile—soft, genuine, the kind of smile that made her heart ache with something deeper than just affection.
“I was counting on it, remember?” His voice was just as soft, but there was an unmistakable certainty beneath it.
She bit her lip, watching him carefully, wanting—needing—to be sure. “Just making sure you hadn’t changed your mind…”
His fingers found hers, lacing together with a quiet intimacy that sent warmth straight to her chest. “About us? Never.” His voice was steady, but there was something else there, something vulnerable.
Constance let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, but she still searched his face, her heart hammering. “I know it sounds crazy,” he continued, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles, “but I like the view.”
A soft chuckle escaped her. “It’s pitch-black outside.”
His lips quirked upward, but his gaze remained fixed on her. “It makes me feel like we’re in our own little world—just you and me.” His voice carried a note of wistfulness as if he were savoring the moment, clinging to it. Then, he hesitated. His fingers tightened around hers just slightly. “You know it’s not you, right?”
The question sent a ripple of unease through her, but she met his gaze, refusing to shy away. “I’ll admit that I was wondering…” she murmured, her heart aching at the way he was getting to the point so quickly. He wasn’t one for unnecessary words, and she respected that about him. “For a while there, I thought things were good between us, but then… you just seemed to withdraw.”
His jaw tensed, and for a moment, and he looked away as if struggling with something deep and unspoken. Then, finally, he sighed. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
She tilted her head slightly, eyes searching his. “You couldn’t.”
A sharp, almost pained scoff left him. “Uh, yeah,” he said bitterly, shaking his head. “I really could.”
She could feel the weight of whatever was pressing on him, the way it sat heavily on his shoulders. “How?” she asked gently.
He turned to her then, fully, his fingers flexing around hers as if bracing himself, as if terrified that she might pull away. His eyes searched hers, desperate, uncertain. And then, in the quietest of voices, he spoke.
“When everything happened… that was going to be my first time.” His cheeks flushed, and she could see the war waging within him—the struggle between vulnerability and the fear of judgment. “I made sure I never put myself in that predicament again because I was terrified of some police officer popping out of nowhere. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little shy when it comes to this stuff. And I feel… well, inept when I kiss you because I haven’t kissed many girls.” He swallowed, his voice cracking as raw emotion bled into his words. “And I’ve slept with zero .”
Her breath caught.
Something inside her melted at the sheer honesty in his voice. The hesitation. The way he was offering up a piece of himself, terrified of what she might do with it.
She picked up his hand and gently cradled it over her heart, holding it there as if she could press her love into his palm. “Good,” she whispered, emotion thick in her throat. “That means you are mine.”
His lips parted, his breath unsteady.
“Oh, Constance…” He exhaled her name like a prayer. “I think I’ve been yours since the moment I met you.” His fingers curled slightly against her chest as if clinging to her presence, grounding himself in her warmth. “You have this gentleness to you that I desperately need in my world, my life… and it feels like where I belong. I feel it. I see it.”
Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she didn’t blink them away. Instead, she leaned in, her voice barely more than a breath. “Then kiss me.” She held his gaze, steady, unwavering. “Hold me. Touch me, and let’s learn what this is like together. Paige and Kayla aren’t the same child. I’m not Jamie, Ashley, Irene, or any of the other wives. And you… you aren’t Robert.”
The flicker of recognition in his eyes told her he understood exactly what she meant.She swallowed past the lump in her throat, the weight of memories pressing against her ribs.
“And I know that. I said my goodbyes two years ago,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “I held his hand as he passed. Those moments were brutal. Destructive. Yet, in some strange way, I think I needed them to move on. I saw his light, his energy move on instead of being trapped in that body that was dying. And I know—deep in my soul—that he’s in heaven, watching over the girls.” She paused, inhaling deeply. “In some ways… I’d like to think that he would have approved of you, too.”
His brows furrowed slightly. “Really?”
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding. “You make me happy, and that’s all he ever wanted for me. His last request—his final words to me—was to be happy and to make sure the girls were taken care of. And I feel like you’ve picked up that gauntlet and made it your own.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she let it fall. “Does that sound crazy? Because I never imagined any of this. I never imagined loving again, and yet, here I am—thankful for every single second of this strange life with you. You’ve given us everything. You’ve provided for me and supported me in ways I couldn’t have dreamed of. You’ve treated my daughters like they are your own… and it’s barely been weeks. It takes a very special person to be so accepting,” Her voice broke, but she pressed on. “And I think you are a gift—just for me.”
A choked laugh escaped him, but his eyes were shining with unshed tears as he quickly wiped them away. “You’re gonna turn me into a crying mess saying sweet stuff like that.”
She gave him a watery smile. “You mean, ‘the truth’ …?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at her. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet, never releasing her hand. He tugged her gently, coaxing her to stand with him.
She followed without hesitation.
His hand came up, warm and calloused, to cup her cheek.
And then, he leaned in.
His lips met hers, warm and soft, coaxing rather than taking. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, until the space between them ceased to exist. They simply stood there, holding, tasting, breathing each other in—offering comfort in the simplest, most intimate way possible.
But then, something shifted.
His kisses deepened, and her breath hitched.
That soft, lingering warmth between them suddenly flared, igniting into something more—something deeper like an inferno meeting oxygen for the first time.
Keith broke the kiss, his breath coming in uneven pants as he gazed at her with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs.
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t ask me that again…” she growled.
“All right,” he chuckled, his voice full of emotion, as he took her hand, walking backward toward their bedroom – and then stumbled, catching himself and rolling his eyes. “Do they make a Caveman Barbie with no pointy shoes? I swear those pink plastic high heels are everywhere and instruments of torture.”
“You should try Legos,” she said flatly – but smiling.
“Uh, no. Legos are forbidden in this house.”
“Sure they are… Daddy ,” she teased, laughing at him as she knew he would fold like a house of cards if one of the children asked him for it. Keith was laughing with her, self-aware of his own lack of spine when it came to them, as he continued walking, pulling her closer into their room and shutting the door behind her.
“Last chance,” he breathed, searching her gaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. His voice was low, husky, vulnerable. “And let me apologize now.”
Constance could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she stared into his deep, uncertain eyes. The weight of the moment pressed down on them both, heavy with anticipation, nerves, and something so much deeper—something that had been growing between them for so long. He was standing so close now that she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, see the rise and fall of his chest as he took a steadying breath.
She chuckled softly, unable to help the smile that tugged at her lips. The man before her, strong and self-assured in so many ways, was suddenly hesitant, almost fragile. It was endearing.
“Oh gosh,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Would you get over yourself and relax? Sex is terrible for everyone the first time around—sheesh.”
He let out a mortified laugh, but she could still see the uncertainty lingering in his eyes as if he were afraid of disappointing her. Afraid of not being enough.
“Well, that doesn’t help my confidence,” he admitted, pulling his hockey jersey over his head and tossing it aside. His muscles flexed with the motion, and she took a slow breath, letting herself admire the way he moved, the way his body felt so familiar yet so electric tonight.
“You’re supposed to be encouraging,” he added, flashing her that boyish grin that always made her weak. “You know, say all the things a man wants to hear… like, ‘ oooh, just like that, ’ or ‘ oh my goodness, you are so big and strong .’” He laughed harder, shaking his head at his own ridiculousness. “Being told it’s okay to be terrible isn’t helpful in the slightest.”
Constance tilted her head, stepping closer until her fingers ghosted over his bare chest. He tensed slightly at the contact, his breath hitching, and she swore she could feel his heart racing beneath her fingertips.
“How about…” she whispered, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “How about, ‘ I care for you ,’ and ‘ I can’t wait to make love with you? ’ Or maybe… ‘ Everything you do is going to be perfect because I think I’m falling for you… ’?”
His expression softened instantly, something in his eyes flickering between amusement and pure, unguarded emotion. But she wasn’t done.
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur as she grinned wickedly. “Or maybe… ‘ Ohhh yes, Daddy ?’”
The panicked giggle he let out was priceless. His eyes widened in horror, and he slapped a hand over his mouth as if to physically keep any further reaction in check.
“Um, yeah— not that.”
She burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. The tension in the room eased instantly, melting away into something lighter, something familiar.
“Fair enough,” she chuckled, shrugging playfully. “How about we go back to kissing, see where it leads, and just… figure it out along the way?”
His laughter faded, and something deeper took its place in his expression. He studied her, his eyes roaming over her face as if committing every tiny detail to memory.
“Did you mean it,” he asked quietly, “when you said that you were falling for me?”
She stilled, the humor leaving her features as warmth spread through her chest. She reached up, brushing her fingertips along his jawline before cradling his face in her hands.
“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” she whispered.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and she could see the unspoken emotions battling inside him. This meant everything to him. To them.
He stepped closer, closing the last bit of space between them, his fingers trailing along the hem of the jersey she was wearing— his jersey. It was oversized, swallowing her frame, but he loved seeing her in it. Loved that she had chosen to wear it tonight, as if she had already been his long before this moment.
He met her gaze, and she could see the pure, unfiltered love shining back at her.
“I love you more than life itself, Constance Boucher.”
She felt her breath catch. The way he said it—raw, unwavering, completely and utterly sure—made her knees weak.He was giving her his heart so openly, wanting to be accepted and loved someday in return, yet never pushing her. There was a sweet innocence in that statement that was put out there so boldly.
“I know,” she breathed, her heart swelling as she caressed his arm with one hand and pulled him closer with the other. “You show it in everything you say or do.”
Then, without another word, she closed the distance, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was slow, deep, and full of everything they had yet to say.
He didn’t need to prove anything. Not to her.
He had already given her everything.
His heart.
***
“Sorry,” Keith whispered, his breath warm against her shoulder, and she could hear the sincerity laced in his voice as if he truly believed there was something to apologize for. Constance turned her head toward him, a slow, lazy smile tugging at her lips.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, her fingers finding his in the dark and lacing them together. “And we’ve got all night.”
The silence stretched for a moment, then Keith shifted beside her, his body propped up slightly as if he needed to see her face to make sure he’d heard her right.
“Wait… we can do that again?” His voice was filled with a mix of surprise and boyish wonder as if he hadn’t quite grasped the full extent of what their new reality as husband and wife meant. Constance bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the pure excitement in his voice.
“Uh, yeah?” she answered, amusement dancing in her tone. For a second, there was only silence. Then, the sound of his delighted chuckle filled the space between them, rich and unrestrained.
“Dang…” Keith exhaled, his grin audible in his voice as he pulled her close to him. “I love being married to you.”