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EPILOGUE

I should have known.

I should have fucking known.

The second I walked into Gram’s house and saw my entire hockey team laughing their asses off , I should have turned the fuck around and left.

But I didn’t.

And now?

Now, I’m holding my new team-issued practice jersey, and embroidered across the back, right under my last name, is the most humiliating words I’ve ever seen.

"Harper’s Bitch."

In pink.

With sparkles.

What the fuck?

I stare at the jersey, jaw clenched, vein in my forehead seconds from exploding.

"Gram!” I bellow at the top of my lungs.

A familiar cackle echoes from the hallway. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

I exhale sharply, gripping the jersey like I might set it on fire with my bare hands.

Daltyn grins, clapping me on the shoulder. “You look tense, Captain. Everything okay?”

I glare at him . “Shut the fuck up.”

Cole and Jake are fucking wheezing.

“Bro, that’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Jake chokes out, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Man, you have to wear it,” Cole smirks.

“Over my dead body.”

Connor walks in, takes one look, and immediately walks out.

I hear him cackling down the hall.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m going to kill her.”

My phone buzzes.

Harper: Put it on, baby. Be a good boy for me. *Winks

I. Am. Going. To. Fucking. Die.

TWO WEEKS LATER

I don’t know how this happened.

I don’t know when this happened.

But somehow, instead of going on a romantic, peaceful honeymoon with my wife, I’m currently standing in a private Vegas airport lounge, watching as our entire group piles onto a jet.

Connor. Jake. Cole. Daltyn.

Tara. Chloe. Allie.

“How the fuck did this happen?” I yell, throwing my arms out.

Connor shrugs. "You let Gram book the trip."

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

"Good question," Allie smirks, sipping her mimosa.

Harper grins, looping her arms around my waist. "Come on, baby. It’ll be fun!"

I narrow my eyes at her.

She’s up to something.

She’s always up to something.

Harper leans in, pressing her lips to my ear. "Besides…." Her voice drops to a sultry whisper. "It’s still our honeymoon, Ford. You can ruin me every night."

I suck in a breath.

Connor groans. "Can you not?"

I don’t even look at him. "Shut the fuck up, Byrns."

Harper grins, victorious.

I glance at the chaos unfolding in front of me.

Jake and Cole are already on their second round of drinks.

Daltyn looks like he regrets every life decision he’s ever made.

Connor and Allie are bickering.

Again.

And Gram?

She’s standing on the stairs to the jet, lifting her flask in the air.

"Vegas, baby!" she yells.

The flight crew looks horrified.

I rub my temples. "I swear to fucking God, I’m not making it back from this trip alive."

Harper laughs, standing on her toes to kiss my cheek.

"Come on, husband," she teases. "Time to start our honeymoon."

I grumble under my breath, hauling her onto the jet.

And just like that….

The disaster begins.