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FORTY-FOUR

lauren

It’s the night of the summer community exhibition game, and rumors have been swirling all week about a big announcement.

It can’t be Tate who's leaving. And yet, he hasn’t told me for sure what he’s decided about Seattle.

I’ve been rereading his book, trying to distract myself from the uncertainty.

Thorne and Kyara got their perfect happy ending (and yes, I cried tears of joy reading that final chapter), but what about us?

I’ve been hiding in my office all evening, trying to distract myself with work rather than face whatever announcement is coming. When it’s time for the game to begin, there’s a knock on my office door. Jaz stands there, looking approximately ten minutes from going into labor.

“Hey,” she says, looking me over. “Why aren’t you wearing it yet?”

“Wearing what?” I ask.

“Are you kidding me?” she exclaims, then motions to my outfit. “Tate’s jersey.”

“I’m meeting with a potential sponsor in a few minutes,” I say, picking up his jersey from my desk. “And I didn’t think girlfriend jerseys screamed professional. I’ll put it on after?—”

“Nope. Wrong answer.” She stares at me like I’ve kicked a puppy.

“Lauren. He’s never asked anyone to wear his jersey before.

Not even his mom. And she’s here tonight, wearing a Crushers t-shirt.

Not his jersey.” She yanks the jersey out of my hands and shakes it at me.

“Someone else can deal with the sponsor. Put this on right now.”

“Jaz!” I protest. “You’re practically forcing a hockey jersey on me.”

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t walk out there and accidentally disappoint your man five minutes before the biggest moment of his life.”

“I wasn’t going to disappoint anyone,” I say, taking off my blazer and sliding on the jersey over my shirt.

“Good. Now you won’t be disappointed that you’re not sitting in the staff box tonight.”

I tilt my head. “What?”

“You’re in the front row. Right behind the team.”

“Since when?”

“Since Tate requested it.”

I gape at her. “He cleared that with Coach?”

She shrugs. “Let’s just say—everyone’s on board.”

“ Everyone ? What’s that mean?”

Jaz shrugs innocently. “I’m not allowed to tell.”

She grabs my arm and practically drags me to the ice rink, where I make a discovery that stops me in my tracks. Not only is Olivia here, but my entire extended family has descended on the arena like it’s the Williamson Family Reunion 2.0.

Granny waves enthusiastically from the front row next to Jake and Olivia. Uncle Bobby and Aunt Tammy are sharing a bag of popcorn. Uncle Ray is eating a hot dog while Aunt Karen marks her program. Abby sits next to my niece and nephew, but thankfully, no Bart in sight.

“You brought the whole family?” I ask, scanning the sea of familiar faces.

Olivia beams. “Not me. Tate invited them.” My heart does a little flip. This man who values his privacy invited my chaotic, loud, overwhelming family to watch him play.

“Nice jersey,” Uncle Bobby says, munching popcorn.

“Is that Tate’s jersey, honey?” Granny asks. I turn around and let her see the name on the back, suddenly feeling self-conscious in the best possible way.

“It says Sunny ,” Granny says gleefully. “With his number four. Well, isn’t that just precious.”

I sit next to Olivia and lean toward her. “Did you know about this?”

“I did. But, Lauren, I couldn’t stop them from coming any more than I could stop an avalanche. As soon as Tate emailed the family, they agreed to come like it was a free food night at the county fair.”

I can practically see Tate at his computer, methodically typing messages to Granny and Uncle Bobby, crafting every word of the invitation. The fact that he wanted them all here—that he’s embracing the full Williamson experience—makes me fall for him just a little bit more.

Suddenly the team flies into the rink, but I don’t see Tate with them. And Tate is never late.

“Hey, where’s Sheriff?” I ask Leo as he skates by.

He ignores me and heads to center ice, lining up for the announcement.

“Leo?” I call after him, but he won’t acknowledge me.

“Hey, Brax!” He ignores me too. “What in the world is going on? Rourke?”

Rourke looks at me for a second before his head flicks away. Even Lucian looks cagey and apologetic as he skates by.

I sit and lean toward Olivia. “Why is everyone acting like I’m not here?”

She just smiles and holds my hand tightly. “You’ll see.”

Before I can press her further, Brax skates to center ice, mic in hand.

“Welcome, everyone, to what might be our best turnout yet for a summer exhibition game!” he announces, scanning the crowd.

“I count at least three generations of hockey fans out there—and yes, Delilah, we see you in the front row next to Jeneva with your sign of support.” More laughter ripples through the stands as Delilah waves her homemade sign which says, “We love Sheriff Foster (and his dimples)!”

“Tonight’s not just about hockey,” Brax says, “it’s about celebrating our community and sharing some big news, including congratulating a player who’s earned his shot at the NHL.”

This is it. I knew this announcement was coming, but suddenly I’m spinning my ring, my heart thundering in my ears. I’m not prepared for this.

I grip the edge of my seat as Brax goes on. “We’d like to officially congratulate…”

The sweat pricks my back as I wait for him to finish.

“… Lucian Lowe on being called up to the Ice Breakers, the newest team in the NHL.”

I sit there in stunned silence while everyone around me claps and Lucian skates out from the line.

Wait—Lucian?

I turn to Olivia, stunned. “I thought Tate was leaving.”

“Of course it’s not Tate, Lauren. You think that man would leave you now that he’s head over heels for you?”

“And we have one more announcement tonight,” Brax adds before I can ask more questions. “And I’d like to invite our PR manager, Lauren Williamson, to center ice.”

Suddenly I’m hearing my name boom across the arena as a red carpet gets rolled out onto the ice and the entire team turns to smile at me.

And I’m frozen in my seat.

“He wants you out on the ice, Lauren,” Olivia whispers, nudging me.

Lucian opens a small door to enter the rink while Brax hands me a blindfold to put on.

“Are you kidding me? ”

“Hey, I’m just following orders,” he says. “But I promise this isn’t some elaborate prank. Well, not the bad kind anyway.”

I tie on the bandana. “You guys are all going to pay for this when I make you wear tutus for the next TikTok campaign.”

The crowd hums around me, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with questions. What if this is payback for all the photo shoots? Why isn’t Tate here with the others? For what feels like an eternity, I just stand there in the darkness.

Then someone’s gentle fingers work at the knot behind my head, and the blindfold falls away.

When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is him.

Tate stands before me in that same suit from our family prom—the one that made me forget how to breathe, the one that makes him look like he stepped out of a dream. Under the bright arena lights, he’s devastating, but it’s the expression underneath his glasses that stops my heart.

He’s looking at me like I’m his Kyara. His whole world. His everything.

“Hey, Sunny,” he says. “Remember when I asked you to trust me?”

“So you’re not really leaving?” I whisper.

His grin is tender, that dimpled half-smile that’s always been my undoing. “I’m staying right here with you. Because I choose you , Sunny.”

Then he turns to the crowd. “I thought my future was heading to the NHL, but I’ve decided to stay with the Crushers for another year. And the reason why…” He turns back to me, his dark eyes holding mine like we’re the only two people in the world. “Is this woman right here.”

I blink several times, trying to keep myself from falling apart in front of everyone.

“I fell for her the first time when she made me ride her ridiculous motorcycle. But what really sealed it was spending a week at her family reunion.”

Uncle Bobby whistles, and my whole family laughs .

“Because I got to see her in a different way. Who she was when she was away from the office. I got to make her laugh, take her to prom, and win the Family Olympics with her as my partner. I even learned to bake—even though I was terrible at it.” He looks over at Jaz and Sloan in the crowd.

“Sorry, Jaz and Sloan. We honestly tried.”

A few chuckles rumble through the crowd as he turns back to the audience. “This woman taught me how to have fun again. That being logical doesn’t mean being afraid to feel and to accept that love doesn’t always play by the rules.”

Tate passes off his mic before he turns to face me, closing the distance between us until we’re only inches apart. The arena fades away until it’s just him and me.

“So I’m not leaving,” he says, his voice dropping low. “I’m staying. For you and a life together in Sully’s Beach.”

It’s just like Abby told me in the sunroom, You stay for the one who’s worth it.

His hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer until I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine. His other hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone.

“Lauren Williamson,” he murmurs, “you’re my only home. You’re the person I want to wake up next to every morning for the rest of my life, because I love you.”

He’s staying because he loves me. He actually loves me.

And right there on center ice in front of everyone I care about, he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me like I’m the only logical conclusion to this story we’re writing together.

The kiss is tender and sweet, and when he finally pulls back, his hands frame my face.

“I love you too,” I whisper, and that’s when the arena erupts.

Granny is on her feet, clapping so hard she might hurt herself. Uncle Bobby yells, “I knew that boy was the right one!”

Delilah is openly weeping, clutching her “We Love Sheriff Foster” sign to her chest, while Jeneva, who never gets emotional about anything, is hollering, “That’s how you do it, Sheriff! ”

Olivia is on the edge of her seat, tears streaming down her face. My whole family is grinning and shouting as the kids jump up and down, chanting, “Uncle Tate! Uncle Tate!”

Tate’s smile widens as he takes in my loud, wonderful family celebrating us.

Even his teammates are cheering for us as Leo shouts, “Finally!”

Out of nowhere, Brax comes rushing toward us, looking panicked. “We’ve got an emergency,” he pants, before announcing over the mic, “Okay, everyone! I know I said there were only two big announcements tonight, but apparently, there’s one more.”

The arena hushes.

“My wife is in labor,” Brax announces. “Right now. Like, this-minute-right-now. And I need to get to the hospital!”

“Wait,” Leo says. “She isn’t due for two more weeks!”

“Apparently, this child takes after me,” Brax replies. “Determined to reach the goal faster than anyone expects.”

The team barrels onto Brax like it’s a Stanley Cup celebration. Gloves are flying. Helmets are tossed. Rourke skates by holding up a foam finger and yelling, “LET’S DELIVER A BABY!”

“We’re coming with you!” Lucian shouts.

“What about the exhibition game?” Leo calls, clearly torn between sports and baby mayhem.

“Oh, right,” Brax says excitedly. “You should probably finish that first, but make it quick!”

Coach Jenkins shrugs and waves Brax out the door. “We’ll give the fans a game. You get to the hospital.”

The game itself felt more like a chaotic backyard scrimmage than a professional match—full of distracted players too busy checking their phones for baby updates to remember to watch the puck.

The moment the final whistle blows, nobody sticks around for handshakes. Players, coaches, even the Zamboni guy—everyone is on a mission toward the hospital.

We hurtle toward the parking lot in a rush of bodies, Tate’s hand firmly clasped around mine, and in the crush of people, he stops and kisses me on the mouth one more time.

Someone walks by, sees us kissing and snaps a picture.

“That person just took our picture,” I say. “Aren’t you upset?”

Tate just smiles. “Not anymore, Sunny. You dragged me onto a motorcycle and straight into a life I didn’t know I wanted. Now the whole world can know. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”