30

CONNOR

T he sun is setting as we get closer to Vegas.

It’s a beautiful sight, but nothing compares to hearing Allie whisper the words that sealed her fate, I’m yours, Connor.

Not even winning the Stanley Cup could top that.

Although… having my wife in the stands when we do? That would come damn close.

I glance over. Allie’s staring out the window like it might open a portal to escape me. She hasn’t moved in ten miles. Probably praying for a natural disaster to hit before we reach city limits.

Meanwhile, I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

This might be the best day of my life.

Better than joining the Green Mountain Avalanche with Ford.

Better than my first goal in the league.

All because she said those words that light me up inside. And there are no takesies-backsies.

She’s stewing, silently suffering beside me.

And I’m basking in it.

“I can’t wait to get to Vegas," I say, my voice light and my grin sharp.

As I expected, she doesn’t respond.

I sigh dramatically, grip the steering wheel, and stretch my legs. "Good night, huh?"

She clenches her hands in her lap, remaining silent.

My girl doesn’t go down without a fight.

“You feeling okay, baby?" I ask, pure smugness dripping from every word.

She mutters, “Fine.”

I raise a brow. "Fine?"

She grits her teeth. "Great."

I grin. "That’s my girl."

She shudders from my words.

“When we get to a hotel, should we book a one-bed suite, wife ?" I add casually.

She makes a strangled sound. “I’m not your wife!”

I shrug. "Yet."

She whips her head around, eyes blazing. "Do you even hear yourself? You sound deranged ."

“Yeah baby. And you like it."

She growls and kicks her purse. I could die a happy man right now.

“You’ve officially lost your mind!" she snaps.

“Did I? Or did you finally admit what we both already knew?"

She gapes at me like I’ve sprouted horns.

I drag my eyes over her, slow and smug. "You were on top of me, sweetheart."

Her cheeks ignite.

“You were the one grinding against me, breathless and wrecked, at the overlook.”

She growls again. The sound is fucking adorable.

“Because you’re mine. You know it. I know it. And soon?"

I glance at her with a grin. "Everyone else will know it too. Once you’re my wife."

She flails in her seat like she’s short-circuiting. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“Why not? You already confessed you want more."

“Ugh!” She slaps her thighs. “You’re so infuriating !”

“You love it." I grin. "Just like I love how completely unhinged you are, my beautiful little firecracker."

She lets out a squeaky noise—half frustration, half flustered—and visibly shivers when I call her beautiful.

She’s utter perfection.

Determination puffs up my chest. I’m going to marry her in Vegas.

Nothing will stop me.

And I can’t fucking wait.