Page 44 of For Pucking Real (The Seattle Vipers #4)
DEVAN
Three Years Later
I f you'd asked me a year ago where Sebastian Bergeron would get married, I would've guessed a chateau in France. Or maybe a private island, something with imported flowers and a twelve-tier cake flown in from Italy.
Instead, he chose his backyard and now I know exactly why.
It's sunset over Lake Washington. The golden light from the setting sun spills across the grass like champagne, casting everything in a warm, honeyed glow that no expensive venue could replicate.
Fairy lights crisscross overhead, swaying gently in the breeze, creating constellations that will guide us into the evening.
The wedding is small, family only, teammates, people who matter.
No press, no strangers, no one who hasn't earned their way into this circle of trust. It's perfect and intimate, so Bast and Derrick.
A reflection of the quiet, fierce love they've built together through injury and recovery, through championships and losses.
The dock behind the yard holds the reception venue: a massive yacht lit up like a dream, its white hull gleaming against the darkening water, champagne glasses already sparkling on trays inside. For now, though, all eyes are on the aisle, a simple carpet of deep blue.
Kodah comes first, walking with Alexis. He's in a tiny tux that probably cost more than my first car, his little face set in concentration, holding the rings with laser focus like he's on a mission from God.
Tor's son takes his ring bearer duties more seriously than most people take their actual jobs.
Then comes Chloe, dressed in a sea of ruffles that make her look like a tiny cupcake princess, Lia holding her hand and trying not to laugh.
Our daughter is absolutely demolishing the petal toss, flinging flowers in dramatic clumps like she's trying to pelt someone at a snowball fight.
Everyone laughs as she empties her basket halfway down the aisle, then shrugs with her whole body and skips the rest of the way, completely unapologetic for her flower distribution strategy.
Lia beams as she follows her, her other hand resting gently over her small but already stubborn bump beneath the flowing material of her emerald dress.
She's three months along and already threatening to kill us both for the timing, but she's glowing.
My girl always glows, but pregnancy gives her this extra radiance that makes my heart stutter every time I look at her.
Sebastian and Derrick stand beneath the floral archway, both in tailored suits that complement each other perfectly, Sebastian in classic black, Derrick in midnight blue.
Derrick's mom sits nearby, wrapped in a soft shawl the color of the evening sky, her wheelchair parked where she can see everything, tears already glistening in her eyes as she watches her son.
Ridley and Tor are on one side of the arch, standing tall and proud as Bast's chosen family.
Tobias and I stand on the other, for Derrick.
The ceremony is short, heartfelt. Sebastian, usually so stoic, has to stop twice to clear his throat.
Derrick's vows make everyone laugh and cry at the same time.
When Sebastian finally kisses Derrick, there's a beat where everything just stops.
The breeze, the lapping water, even time itself seems to pause.
It's not just love. It's history. It's healing.
It's the soft landing after years of learning how to fall and still stand.
It's the culmination of a journey that started with a devastating injury and transformed into something beautiful.
The crowd cheers, a sound that echoes across the water.
Tobias's fingers brush mine, warm and familiar, a silent acknowledgment of everything this moment means.
I glance around at our extended family. The team is here, of course, these men who've become brothers.
Brea, round and glowing with the baby they never thought would happen, tucked against Ridley's side, his hand protectively splayed against her belly.
Alexis, still topping every bestseller list and delightfully smug about it, dabbing at her eyes while Tor wraps an arm around her shoulders.
Kodah beams up at them both as he clings to his mother's dress.
Chloe spins in a circle at Lia's feet, giggling as petals fly again, her laughter like music.
Tobias stands beside me, that quiet smirk on his lips that says he still can't believe we get to have this life, after everything.
It is ours. All of it. This chaotic, beautiful, unexpected family we've built.
A year ago, we had our own ceremony. Not legally binding, not traditional, but real in every way that counts.
Just us, Lia, Chloe, and the people who love us.
We promised forever under a different sky.
Exchanged rings that symbolize something most people don't understand.
Claimed each other, loudly and proudly, in our own way.
Tonight isn't about us, but somehow it still feels like it is.
Because we made it.
We made it through the scandal when pictures leaked, the trade rumors that kept us up at night, the whispered doubts from people who didn't understand our family.
Cliff negotiated a no-trade clause into Tobias's new contract, fighting for us when we needed it most. Tobias isn't going anywhere.
He's a Viper for good, just like me. We won the Cup this year and now we're celebrating the kind of win that matters more than any ring on the ice.
We've got each other.
We've got Chloe, with her wild spirit and Lia's smirk, and now another baby on the way to complete our unconventional circle.
We've got family in every sense of the word, blood, chosen, and created.
As the music starts and the newlyweds make their way back up the aisle, hands clasped tight, Chloe charges toward me, arms raised, asking to be picked up.
I swing her into my arms just as Lia leans into my side, her lips brushing my shoulder through my suit jacket, her eyes meeting mine with that look that still makes my knees weak after all these years.
Tobias kisses the top of her head, wrapping one arm around both of us, completing our circle. His eyes meet mine over Lia's head, full of everything we never have to say out loud anymore.
For the first time in a long time, I'm not afraid of losing what I love.
The fear that used to sit like a stone in my chest, heavy and cold—that constant worry that everything good might slip through my fingers—has finally dissolved.
I look at my family, this beautiful, messy, perfect arrangement we've created together, and I feel nothing but certainty.
Because we already built something no one can take.
Not the media with their prying questions, not the old-school hockey fans with their narrow definitions of family, not even the darkest moments of self-doubt that used to plague each of us.
What we have is solid, foundational, weatherproof.
It survived storms that would have torn apart something less authentic.
This is for pucking real. Not some fairy tale I read about in one of my romance novels, not some temporary happiness that fades when the honeymoon period ends. This is the kind of love that grows stronger with each challenge, each compromise, each midnight conversation when one of us can't sleep.
Real love. The kind that sees you at your worst, sleep-deprived, injured, angry, broken and chooses you anyway. The kind that celebrates your victories like they're personal wins. The kind that makes room for growth without requiring anyone to shrink themselves to fit.
Real life. Beautiful in its imperfections.
Messy breakfasts with Chloe getting syrup everywhere.
Late nights reviewing game tape with Tobias sprawled beside me, his commentary making me laugh until my sides hurt.
Lia stress-sewing at three in the morning when a big order comes in, the two of us taking turns bringing her tea and reminding her to rest her eyes.
Complete. That's what we are. We're perfect, not by a long shot, but we're perfectly imperfect together. A family built on choice, on second chances, on the courage to reach for happiness even when it doesn't look like what we expected.
-The End-