Page 54 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

I might not know how to fix this, but I know the One who can.

Father, we won’t be able to get through this without You. Help us to discern Your voice through all the rest. I want to love Lucas well. Help us, walk with us as we navigate through the time ahead.

Taking another sip, I let the warmth settle inside my chest.

The anticipation is killing me.

Standing at the arrival gate, surrounded by the chatter of strangers hugging their loved ones, I can’t stop bouncing on the balls of my feet. My stomach is swirling, nerves and excitement all tangled up in a mess and I’m sure they’re accompanied by giant butterflies at the thought of seeing Lucas.

It’s been six days.

Not long by most standards, but it’s felt like a lifetime has gone by since I last saw him.

He’s had a rough week, we both have. After that phone call with Harry, helplessness threatened to drown me at every turn.

Especially as I watched Lucas navigate the pressure most people can’t even begin to imagine.

Everyday, there’s a new headline, speculating on team motivation, player injuries, line shuffles, or their odds of taking the Cup.

There are interviews before and after every game.

Cameras catch their reactions, dissecting and analyzing every move, every hit, every pass.

The world is hungry for every drop of playoff news and it adds pressure to the players.

So, I did the only thing I could do for Lucas from a distance.

I prayed.

I prayed when I watched the second game, my heart in my throat every time he touched the puck.

I prayed when I saw the post-game interview and recognized the flicker in his eyes, the one that meant he hasn’t been sleeping too well.

I won’t always be able to attend every single game, no matter how much I might want to.

Because life is filled with changing plans, colliding schedules and shifting responsibilities.

Anything can happen, and then he needs to know that I’m not the one who can pull him through it.

As much as I want to be his pillar in everything, Lucas needs to lean on the One who can never fail him.

Still, his spirits have been a bit higher since they won the second game against the Canucks and he scored two of the three goals. I screamed in the living room when that puck hit the back of the net the second time, so loud Avah broke out in a fit of laughter.

It’s a start in the right direction, and today, seeing him in person will be exactly what we need. I missed him more this past week than I’ve missed him in the five years we weren’t together. Maybe it’s because I now know he belongs to me and I belong to him.

Maybe it’s because I got used to sleeping next to him, with his hand on my waist and his soft breaths against the back of my neck. So much so, that the bed felt too empty, too cold, without him in it.

Maybe it’s because God is finally opening the door for us to be together and I don’t ever want it any other way.

Maybe it’s all of that and more.

As the team starts walking in, a wave of blue Rangers hoodies heading my way, my feet automatically move forward. With darting eyes, I search through each of them, searching for the tall bearded man, with dark mussed hair and a smile that makes me go weak in the knees.

Lucas.

I’m already moving faster. I break into a run, weaving through families, my eyes locked on his like he’s gravity itself. His bag hits the floor just in time to catch me as I leap into his arms, wrapping myself around him like it’s instinct.

His arms close tightly around me, as he buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.

“I missed you so much, Sanders,” he groans. His voice is deep and gravelly and I feel it tugging low in my stomach.

“Harry has to come up with a plan, because you can’t leave without me again. I won’t allow it.”

He pulls me tighter, planting soft kisses along the side of my neck, slow and reverent. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

I shift back, just enough to look at him, my hands rising to cradle his jaw, my thumbs grazing the familiar scruff of his beard. His eyes are tired, but they shine with something deeper…with relief and maybe even peace. I lean in and press a kiss against his lips.

My heart settles, my breath slows. Being in his arms, feeling his warmth and his mouth against mine lifts the ache of the past six days. I melt into him, into the safe, solid space where everything else fades away.

Somewhere around us there’s a cheer. Then a few claps and a whistle.

I blink, realizing there are families, strangers and teammates around us. My cheeks burn with humiliation, as I realize they’re all watching us. For a second, I completely forgot about the rest of the world…lost in my husband.

“Save it for later, bro,” EJ says, slapping Lucas on the shoulder as he walks past us.

Lucas reluctantly sets me down again, but not before brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “If you’re going to greet me like this, I might have to consider going to Vancouver alone…”

I playfully shove his chest. “Don’t you dare. ”

Lucas picks up his bag and slips his fingers through mine, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“So, we’re talking to Harry about a passport?” he asks, as we walk along with the rest of the team.

“I kind of already did,” I admit, not quite sure how he’ll react.

Lucas halts mid-step. “What?” he asks, a frown between his eyes.

I gently tug his hand, to keep us moving along. We’ve still got a lot to discuss and I don’t want to hash it out in the middle of baggage claim.

“He called after your first game,” I say quietly. “He was worried about you and the pressure you’re under. He said you needed someone in your corner, and I think he just wanted to make sure that I’m going to be that for you.”

Lucas sighs, dragging his hand over his face. “He shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Hannah.”

“For what?” I ask, turning to face him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. This is all my fault.”

The second it’s out, I wish I could take it back. I didn’t want to say anything here. I wanted to leave this conversation for when we got home. But I can’t have him thinking for one minute longer that he did anything wrong.

He stops. The expression on his face twists into that of hurt and sadness.

“Don’t ever say that,” he whispers, his voice low and raw.

“It’s true,” I say, feeling my eyes burn as tears start to form. I do not want to do this here. I swallow my tears and avert my gaze to gather myself.

“It’s me and you, Sanders,” he says, his voice steady and firm as he lifts my chin with his finger. “It’s us. There’s no your fault or my fault. We’re doing all of this together. Do you understand?” he asks, searching my eyes.

Lucas has always had a way of saying exactly what I need to hear. It’s like he knows my heart and the rhythm it beats to without even trying. He knows what calms me down, what soothes me, even when I don’t know myself.

Throwing my arms around his neck, I move closer and kiss him again.

The world blurs again, everything else drowning out while all that remains is the two of us.

All I know is his mouth moving against mine.

Not desperate or impulsive, like in Vegas, but sure and steady.

A kiss rooted in the promise of our lives together.

He deepens the kiss and I get completely lost in him.

The love swelling inside of me threatens to overwhelm all my senses.

Someone clears his throat behind us. And for the second time this morning, I hide my face in my hands, the heat of my cheeks burning against my palms.

“You have an audience, Walker.”

Nikolai Petrov gestures over his shoulder, before straightening his own bag and walking off to the exit. There are a few people with their phones, taking pictures or videos even.

“Oh…” My cheeks heat even more. “This is mortifying.”

“Let’s go home, Sanders,” Lucas says, picking up his bag before wrapping his arm around me. “I’ve missed my wife and I want to kiss you without anybody around.”

Leaning into his side, we make our way through the airport. With his arm around me and the whole world watching, I don’t care. Because for the first time in days, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Home.