Epilogue
Wolfe laid atop the king-sized bed in the middle of their penthouse suite at a downtown Chicago hotel.
Aspen padded out of the bathroom wearing his Van Halen t-shirt she’d stolen from his dresser and claimed as her own nightgown. The red of the cotton material accentuated her ivory skin and Wolfe longed to touch, lick and taste the expanse.
Aspen made her way to the bed and flopped down on her back next to Wolfe.
“What a day,” she said and stretched her arms over her head on a yawn. “I don’t know how other professional teams work their all-star weekends, but the NHL’s efforts amazed.”
“Did you have fun today?”
“Oh, my gosh, walking through the Fan Experience was so incredible,” Aspen hurried on in an excited tone. “I got to shoot a puck, on real ice. They even had a pretend television set and I got to read an introduction on camera. It was so cool.”
“I wish I could have been with you instead of getting ready for the skills’ competition inside on the ice.”
“Speaking of which,” she said, and turned her body toward Connor’s. “You were amazing tonight.”
“You think?”
“I do, and not just me. A reporter sitting near me said your slapshot was the hardest he’d ever seen for a defenseman, or anyone for that matter.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s hard right now,” Wolfe wiggled his eyebrows.
Aspen laughed and began tracing the cupcake tattoo he’d had inked for her over his heart. “Does that line really work for you?”
“You tell me, since you’re the only woman I ever plan to say that to.”
“I’d say it most certainly did.”
Wolfe smiled inwardly as Aspen’s finger-tracing found her at the top of the cupcake where he’d added new ink to the tattoo earlier that week.
In an instant, Aspen’s eyes widened and she sat straight up on the bed, his Van Halen shirt pulling up toward her midriff to expose her pretty pink panties.
“What?” Wolfe couldn’t keep the smile from dancing across his lips.
“Rings. There are rings on top of the cupcake.”
“Yeah, about that,” Wolfe fished out the robin’s egg blue box he had in the pocket of his jeans. He, too, sat up so he and Aspen were facing each other atop the bed. “Aspen, my boss baker, my badass businesswoman who holds the key to my heart. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Tears streamed down her face, and she began to nod violently.
“Are you serious? Yes! Yes!! I’ll marry you, my hottie hockey player with a heart made of pure gold. I would be honored to become your wife.”
Wolfe slid the three-carat diamond solitaire ring onto her finger, then later slid into her waiting heat to join them together even further.
He didn’t know how he, a broody bastard, became the luckiest sonofabitch ever, but he certainly wouldn’t let his beautiful baker get away.
He had a long way to go, but with therapy to address his grief, and to see if he could someday carve a healthy relationship with his dad, as long as Aspen was by his side, the sky was the limit. His forever.