Page 38

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

brEE

I sat on the couch between Claudia on one side and Char, who felt good enough to join us today, on the other. A rarity these days, watching the game on TV.

And I was still stunned .

No one had said a word about this to me. The Copperheads—every single one of them—had pledged to match every dollar raised during the benefit weekend. Not a portion. Not a percentage. Dollar for dollar.

Char’s hand found mine, soft and bird-boned but warm. “That’s going to help so many families.”

“I know,” I whispered, blinking fast. “You raised a good man.”

She smiled softly, knowing she’d done exactly that. A proud mother moment for a woman who was quickly losing precious time to see more of them. I liked that for her, getting these moments in.

Benny sat in the chair, his legs kicking rhythmically against the cushion while he played with his sensory pop-it toy.

He’d made it through trick-or-treating at the arena like a champ.

Reece had carried him half the time, grinning like he’d won the damn lottery.

And Benny—sweet, guarded, cautious Benny—had reached for Reece with both arms.

I’d barely survived that moment.

The next day, I asked Claudia if she minded staying home with Benny while I made a quick trip to the arena. She smiled, telling me, “Go. We’ll have plenty to do while you’re gone.”

What the men had done meant so much to me that I had to find a way to say thank you .

Jaycee baked. Her two locations told me that I didn’t want to embarrass myself by bringing in sweet treats.

I would classify myself as a good baker, but she’d trained in France.

So I made my pumpkin, spinach, and mushroom lasagna.

I filled four casserole dishes, packed them in the car, and took them to the place I used to clock in every day.

Now, walking through the doors as a visitor, my hands full of gratitude and carbs, I saw it all differently.

These weren’t just coworkers or players. They were the people helping give my son—and so many others—a fighting chance.

I found Bishop near the training room and pulled him into a quick, one-armed side hug before he even saw it coming. And all while balancing those stacked dishes with one arm.

“Bree?” He laughed. “You trying to break my ribs?”

“Trying to say thank you . For everything. For that incredible announcement. For matching the donations.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking like someone’s kid caught doing a good deed. “It wasn’t just me.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got that captain energy. You don’t have to admit it. I know.”

He smirked. “You brought lunch?”

“I thought you all deserved it,” I replied as he lightened my load, carrying the dishes into the conference room for me.

Word got around fast. Reece’s girl had shown up with good food and misty eyes. I didn’t care. Not today. Let them talk. I’d try to win back my sassy reputation next time .

When I got back from grabbing the plates and plastic flatware from the storage room—I knew all the secrets of this place—Bonner was already attempting to cut himself a slice with his pocket knife.

Let me just say, I should’ve made five pans at least. The lasagna didn’t stand a chance.

“Man, first Bishop and now Reece getting women who can cook. Fuck that,” Winstead said and I didn’t like his tone.

It wasn’t a compliment for me or Jaycee, but a cutdown for Chesney and she didn’t deserve that.

We all had different talents. I believed putting up with his ass wasn’t just a talent, but her superpower. And to think I used to like him.

“If you were nice, I’d offer to teach Chesney how to make this, but I don’t like your attitude, Winstead .”

Cue the round of “ ooo ” and “ ouch ” from his teammates. And sassy Bree was back.

But now I had to get home. I kissed Reece. He kissed me. I’d say he won, but let’s be real on who the real winner was with that.

From that point on, time seemed to move at warp speed because the next thing I knew, we were almost to the benefit weekend.

The buzz in the air that seemed to follow us everywhere we went those weeks leading up.

You could feel it humming through the team group chat, in the updates the foundation sent out, even in the way Reece carried himself.

And while he was on the road, life at home fell into a quiet rhythm. Claudia and I kept things running—her helping with Char when I got busy with Benny’s school drop-offs and keeping our little routine stable. Char, bless her, was growing more tired by the week.

One warm afternoon, with Benny at school and Claudia on a video appointment in her room, I wheeled Char down the wooden plank path that led to Reece’s private beach. She always seemed to breathe easier out there, with the salt in the air and the ocean spread out like something holy .

Char closed her eyes as the breeze lifted her thinning hair. “This is the best medicine,” she said softly.

I sat beside her in the sand, digging my toes in. “I’m glad. You deserve all of it.”

Her hand found mine and squeezed gently. “You’re a good girl, Bree. And this family… It’s lucky to have you.”

My throat got tight. I nodded instead of answering.

This family. It meant so much to hear.

That evening, after Benny was tucked in and Char had gone to bed, I messaged Jaycee.

B: What are you and Grant doing for Thanksgiving?

She replied right away.

J: Flying in my Pap, Gina, and Grant’s mom. Why?

B: I want to do something special. For Reece’s mom. I think this will be her last Thanksgiving. I want her to have a real one. Full of people. Full of love.

J: Say no more. We’ll be there. I’ll help you cook. I know Linc will be down. Antonov doesn’t have family nearby. Jones, Lexi, and the kids are coming too. You want a full house? We’ll give you a full house.

The little typing bubbles popped up on the screen and then:

J: Does Baker know?

B: Not yet. Wanted to run it by you first.

J: You tell him. I’ll start making lists.

Jaycee rallied the troops. It wasn’t just about a holiday. It was about giving Char one last memory wrapped in warmth and laughter and the smell of roasted turkey.

When I told Reece, he looked overwhelmed, his hand resting on the back of his neck like he was bracing himself.

“You really want to do this?”

“Yeah. I think she’d love it.”

“She will.” He stepped closer and kissed my forehead. “And so will I.”

That cinched it for me. A two-fer. I got to give both Char and Reece a holiday to remember. Who could ask for more than that?

Oh, and Jaycee didn’t lie. She jumped right into it with me, both feet and hands, ready to make this day special. When I’d entered into this agreement with Reece, I never imagined getting so many new friends out of the deal.

The house smelled like roasted turkey and sweet potatoes, like cinnamon and family. I had a smear of flour on my cheek, something bubbling over on the stove, and a dozen voices rising and falling all around me—but for once, I didn’t feel overwhelmed.

I felt home .

Jaycee stood beside me at the kitchen island, expertly carving up a pie like it owed her money. “You know,” she said, glancing around at the mayhem, “this was a damn good idea.”

LJ came barreling through the kitchen, Benny hot on his heels. Benny’s hands flapped excitedly as he reached for the bin of toys he’d set out just for LJ—his favorites. The ones he didn’t have to share.

“He’s showing him the trucks,” Jaycee said, her voice catching.

“I see.” I pressed a hand to my heart and smiled.

They flopped onto the floor together by the backdoor, LJ giggling, Benny gently placing a car into his lap. My eyes burned.

Every room was filled. Every chair was claimed.

Kids were on laps, toys underfoot, drinks passed from hand to hand.

Antonov showed up with a bottle of some kind of honeyed vodka and a tray of deviled eggs he’d made himself, proudly announcing, “I am Southern now!” before Lexi corrected him and told him they were properly Vermont eggs because she’d brought the paprika.

Lexi and Jones sent Marissa and Nicky to play with Grant’s nieces in the yard. Although several years older, they played tag with the girls. Char sat near the big picture window in the den, watching everything with tired eyes and a never-ending smile.

I’d caught her dozing once or twice, but she always woke with a kind word. “You made this, Bree. All of this.”

Pap—Jaycee’s grandfather—sat at the head of the table like some charming, storytelling patriarch, holding court with his sweet girlfriend, Gina, laughing at all his jokes.

Grant’s sister and her husband brought green bean casserole and chaos, because within minutes of arriving, her daughters had glitter all over my couch cushions and half a can of whipped cream in their mouths. Hence the tag outside.

Miss Claudia moved through the house like a gentle hurricane—smiling, directing traffic, lifting hot dishes with oven mitts that had seen decades of celebrations.

Every now and then, she’d tug Benny and LJ outside for a reset.

Photos popped up on my phone—just the three of them, sitting in the sun by the dunes while the tide whispered to the shore.

I peeked out at them more than once. Benny’s curls fluttered in the wind. Claudia’s hands rested lightly on his shoulders while LJ traced patterns in the sand with a stick.

Inside, the men gathered around the TV snacking on bowls of chips, relish trays, and other hors d'oeuvres shouting over the game and good-naturedly heckling each other.

Reece wandered back into the kitchen at one point with a sausage roll in his mouth and a beer in his hand, pressing a kiss to the side of my head as he passed.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded. “It’s chaotic.”

He grinned. “It’s perfect.”

It was.

It really, truly was.

And when we all finally sat down—some at the table, some at the counter, kids tucked on laps and folding chairs—we all looked to the host.

Reece stood to say something. He cleared his throat and fidgeted like he was about to take a face-off. Goalie, remember? They never faced off.

“I don’t really do speeches,” he said, eyes flicking to his mom.

She smiled, hands folded in her lap, her son’s features written all over her face.

“But this… this is the kind of thing I didn’t know I needed until I had it.

First, I want to say ‘ thank you ’ to Jaycee for jumping in to help pull today off.

” We all cheered for Jaycee and her face blushed the sweetest pink.

“Next,” he continued over the noise, “I’d like to thank the rest of you for deciding to spend your holiday with us. ”

We got back responses like “It’s been great” and “Have to do it again” from guests around the room.

“But lastly,” Reece captured their attention again. “I want to say that none of us would be here together without Bree making it happen.” He looked at me then. “You gave us this. You gave me this. So thank you. And Happy Thanksgiving.”

Glasses clinked. Kids giggled. Someone—probably Antonov—shouted “To Bree!” and I nearly burst into tears right there with a spoonful of dressing in my hand.

Char didn’t eat much, but she sat with us the whole time. Just watching. Soaking it all in. Her smile never once faded, even as her eyelids grew heavy and Miss Claudia gently wheeled her toward her room for a rest.

Later that night, after everyone had left and the dishes were soaking and the leftovers were packed, I stood in the doorway of Benny’s room and watched him sleep—arms around his favorite truck, worn out and happy.

Reece came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his chin on my shoulder .

“This was a good day,” he said.

“They keep getting better.”

And they did. Chaos and crumbs and kids and all.

They just kept getting better.