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Right next to it... me.

Caught off-guard, smiling at them both.

It guts me.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen there on the island is a note. Beck’s handwriting, clean and strong.

This place isn’t home until you both are here.

I press my hand to my chest.

Oh, Beck.

I find Jake where I expected to. He’s in what can only behisroom.

Blue and gray walls. Shelves already holding a few hockey pucks and a mini stick rack. There’s even a framed Thunderhawks jersey — but crossed out in Sharpie with “ICE HAWKS FOR LIFE” scribbled underneath.

Classic Beck.

Jake beams at me. “Mom! This is AWESOME.”

I ruffle his hair. “It is, isn’t it?”

He leans in, suddenly shy. “Do you think Beck really wants us here forever? Or just... sometimes?”

I crouch beside him.

“Jake, if you haven’t noticed, that man pretty much built this place around you. Around us.”

Jake grins so wide it about breaks me.

And then, like magic, the front door creaks. Heavy footsteps. A low whistle.

“I was hoping I’d find you two snooping around.”

Beck.

He’s standing there, looking all casual in jeans, t-shirt, and a baseball cap turned backwards like he forgot he’s supposed to be an intimidating billionaire hockey royal.

“Find anything worth staying for?” he asks, teasing.

Jake barrels into him like a little cannonball. “Everything!”

Beck catches him easily, hugging him tightly.

I hang back, watching them.

This man.

This impossibly good, gorgeous, grounded,realman — who turned down yet more fame and fortune not because it wasn’t enough... but becausewematter more.

“You okay over there, Abby Price?” His voice is gentler when it’s just for me.

I nod. Barely.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Just... taking it all in.”

***