“That’s a given.” I work her mouth in a deeper kiss that makes her purr in the back of her throat. “When it comes to you, I’m always a given. I am your given, wife.”
I love the fact that her eyes are glassy after one stroke of my tongue.
“I’m yours, too, husband,” she whispers, giving me one more teasing kiss on the chin. “Now go out there and win.”
My voice is thick with emotion when I tell her, “I already have.”
Epilogue
SUMNER
New Year’s Eve 2024
My wife walks into the party, and my brain cells go tumbling out of my ears.
Forget my train of thought. It’s gone extinct.
Who gave her permission to look this fine?
God, I guess. He’s the one who handcrafted her, right down to the hips that are currently wrapped in champagne-colored silk. She turns in slow motion, clearly looking for me among the sea of guests, the waves of her blonde hair floating around her in a shiny cloud. When she finally spots me where I stand in a group of coaches and players, the dreamy smile actually causes me to suck in a breath, fumbling for a place to set down my bottle of beer.
“Whoa. You all right, Mayfield?”
“Yeah, I just can’t believe that’s my wife.”
“Neither can we,” jokes the team’s goalie, shoving me in the shoulder to let me know he’s kidding. “You going to introduce us?”
I attempt to roll the tension out of my shoulders. “Give me half an hour.”
“Why half an hour?”
Backing away from the group, I tap the breast pocket of my suit jacket. “Finally got her that ring. I want it on her finger when I bring her around you dogs.”
When I turn around, several balled-up napkins are thrown at my retreating back, accompanied by laughs, wishes of good luck, and of course, some good-natured bullying, but I only have the attention span for my wife
right now, and the closer I get to my girl, the more convinced I’m becoming that she’s going to burn them out of my head.
I reach Britta and wrap her up in my arms like a present, drawing her up onto her toes and then squeezing her out of sheer happiness that she’s there. Which might seem like overkill since we live together and I see her every day, but that’s life when you’re obsessed with your wife. “You could have warned me you were going to show up looking like this,” I growl into her neck.
“Like what?” she asks innocently.
“In twenty years, Britta, when our kids ask how they came into the world, I could easily tell them it started with this dress.”
I feel a sly smile bloom against my ear. As recently as a few months ago, any mention of starting a family would have made her go white as a sheet, but not anymore. She’s able to talk about it more and more, the future becoming solid. Exciting.
The fact that it involves me will never stop being my life’s greatest miracle.
We moved to California in October.
I spent one month in the AHL before being signed by the affiliated NHL team here in Anaheim. Signed a nice contract while Britta sat right next to me at the table, visibly overcome with pride. I’m losing count of the
“best” moments I’ve racked up since meeting Britta. The night we got married, the time she showed up at my game in an Anaheim jersey and lumberjack hat, the day we walked into our first apartment together and slept side by side in sleeping bags holding hands.
Tonight is going to be another one of them.
I haven’t had the money to buy her the kind of ring she deserves.
Every day she has gone without a diamond on her finger has been physical torture. But it ends now.
My rock is finally going to wear my rock.
“Come on, I need to show you the view.”
“Lead the way,” she murmurs, slipping her hand into mine, the gesture speaking to her trust in me, and I pull her toward the deck of the team owner’s house. Earlier, before Britta arrived at the party, I came out and surveyed the beautiful Pacific Ocean in the distance, but it looks a million times better now that she’s with me, just like everything else.
She makes life a fucking joy.
I hear her intake of breath as we reach the edge of the deck, but I can’t look at the water because I’m mesmerized by the moonlight washing over her skin. Craving more closeness with her, I keep her facing the ocean and wrap my arms around her from behind, kissing the crown of her head, swaying with her as the waves crash below.
“I could have missed this,” she whispers. “I was thinking about how easily things could have been different when I left class today. I could have been going back to my apartment in Connecticut alone, instead of our place.