Page 37

THIRTY

HANNAH

“You look good, mama.” Noah lets out a long whistle.

I assess the black dress that took more effort to get into than I would have liked. The silk used to drape over my curves in a flattering way. Now it hugs them. Also my boobs. My boobs look spectacular. “I look pregnant.”

Oliver looks up from the blocks he’s got set up on the coffee table, his tongue pushing at the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, there’s definitely a baby in there.”

“Oliver!” Noah and Liam say in unison.

My stepdad is here to hang out with Oliver while Noah and I go to the wedding. He came early so we could visit, something we haven’t done in far too long. He did tell me my mother has been texting here and there, apparently inquiring about how I’m doing. He suggested meeting for dinner this week so he can assure her he’s been checking in. It’s humorous, the thought of her texting him rather than me, but more than anything, it’s pathetic. But Liam genuinely cares about me, and I enjoy spending time with him, so I was more than happy to agree.

“It’s fine.” I wander over to him and run my fingers through his silky hair. “I am pregnant. Always best to be honest, Ollie.”

Noah shakes his head. “Careful what you wish for. He told the coffee barista his pants were too short, his pre-k teacher she needed to brush her teeth better, and Jen’s husband that life isn’t a competition, but if it was, he’d be losing.”

Oliver just shrugs. “Was any of that wrong?”

God, I love this kid.

Noah crouches next to his son and pulls him in for a hug. Then he whispers in his ear, probably telling him to be good and listen to his grandfather.

Tears coat my lashes as Sara walks toward Brooks, her arm looped around her little brother’s, a cascade of flowers peeking through the wavy strands of her long blond hair. I wondered whether it’d be blue, since the preseason is right around the corner. Either way, she is gorgeous. Brooks wears the biggest smile on his face. Before Sara and Ethan have cleared the front row, the groom steps forward, reaching for his bride. He’s been gone for her for so long, and I’d place bets on that never changing. He’s always eager to have her by his side and most content when he’s touching her.

For a last-minute wedding, the decorations are exquisite. Lennox, the event planner slash matron of honor, surely had something to do with that. We’re all gathered in the ballroom at Lang Corp. I figured the location was by default, since they literally threw the event together in days. It wasn’t until we were walking past the wall that Brooks bought for Sara when he proposed that I understood. Every one of us had to pass an adorable painting of the two of them. In it, she’s sitting atop his back while he does his famous set of pregame push-ups. It started as a joke when they were fake dating and quickly became a Bolts tradition.

Noah slides a handkerchief from his pocket and pushes it toward me. “This is a happy occasion,” he mutters.

I elbow him in the ribs.

Beckett begins the ceremony—I’m not surprised he’s officiating; it appears he’s been deemed the honorary wedding officiant since Millie and Gavin’s wedding—and I search the room for Daniel.

He spent the morning with the guys. Honestly, it was a relief knowing we didn’t have to do the whole walking in together in front of our friends thing. They surely would have embarrassed us with their catcalling and hooting and hollering.

There’s no doubt we’ll have to suffer at some point, but for now, I’ve got a little more time to figure out how I want to react.

Daniel must be behind me, because I’ve yet to lay eyes on him. I don’t want to be rude and turn around, so I focus in on the ceremony instead.

When Brooks and Sara exchange the vows they wrote to one another, my gentle tears turn to full-on sobs.

Lennox mouths, “Keep it together.”

I try. I really do. But holding it in only results in an unladylike snort that has half the people in the room looking at me.

When Beckett introduces Mr. and Mrs. Brooks Langfield, Sara squeals and jumps into her husband’s arms, then lays the most inappropriate kiss on his lips.

Beckett’s son Finn yells “get a room,” and Sara barely takes a breath to pull away and respond with “Oh, don’t worry. We did!”

Brooks carries Sara up the aisle. God, the photos are going to be pure gold.

“Now, that’s a wedding,” Noah says to me as he stands and holds a hand out to help me up.

“I don’t know,” I say as I ease out of my seat. “The way Ava and War did it was ridiculously romantic.”

Noah’s brows knit together. “Wasn’t theirs a contract?”

“Well, yes.” I lift one shoulder. “But it was just the two of them at city hall. I don’t know, there’s just something about the simplicity of it, doing away with the whole pomp and circumstance, that I love. Just two people pledging to do their best for one another.”

Noah’s eyes warm. “That is beautiful, Han. Spoken like a true romantic.”

I laugh lightly, ignoring the flutter of nerves in my belly. “I’m an author. Not a romantic. I don’t actually believe in all that stuff.”

With a smirk, he shakes his head. “Sure you do. You write love stories for the most improbable couples. People who overcome their own traumas who don’t have to change who they are to find the love they deserve.”

I stare at him, kind of gobsmacked. “That’s what you get from my writing?”

“Actually,” he says as we wait for a line of guests to move past our row, “it’s how Daniel described it when he was telling the guys about you during morning skate last week.”

I’m kind of speechless. Not only does Daniel read my books, but he talks about them and understands them maybe better than anyone else ever has.

Kind of like how he understands me better than anyone ever has.

Chin lifted, I search him out.

It only takes a minute to spot him. He’s leaning against a door to one side of the exit, his black suit tailored perfectly, accenting his forever impressive physique, his attention fully on me.

The smolder he wears has my entire body heating. “Dream girl,” he mouths. He brings a fist to his chest. “Fucking perfect.”

I tilt to one side and tell Noah I’ll be back, but he’s frozen, his face ashen, his attention locked on the front of the room where Beckett is talking to Gavin, Liv, and Sienna.

Beckett has a possessive arm wrapped around Liv, as always. Gavin is grinning from ear to ear. Sienna, the youngest Langfield, and the most fashionable, is smiling brightly as she regales the three of them with a story that probably has to do with her work in the fashion industry in Paris.

I squeeze Noah’s arm. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows audibly, and with a shake of his head, he finally looks away from the group. “Might have.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I’m going to splash some water on my face.”

“I’ve got her.” Daniel appears at my side, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

Noah nods and disappears without another word.

“He’s acting weird,” I say as I watch him bolt from the room.

“Weddings tend to affect people in one of two ways,” Daniel says, holding out his arm.

I take it and let him lead me up the aisle and toward a wall of windows that overlooks the ocean and the dazzling sunset.

“Really?”

“Yes. Some people get stuck on the what-ifs. What if I’d settled down? What if I missed out on the one? What if I married the wrong person?”

I hiss out a dramatic breath. “Scandalous.”

He smiles. “And others latch on to the maybe. Maybe I’ll meet someone tonight. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I should propose.”

I turn to face him, the windows at my back. “And what kind of person are you?”

His brown eyes twinkle. “I’m definitely a maybe guy.”

A thrill zips through me. “Are you?”

He nods and leans down. “Absolutely.”

“And what’s your maybe?”

“Maybe I should ask my dream girl to dance. Maybe she’ll let me hold her hand tonight. Maybe I could kiss her in front of all our friends.”

Arms draped over his shoulders, I pull him close, my lips a breath from his. “There’s only one problem with your theory.”

He closes his eyes like he’s relishing the closeness. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I’m neither of those.”

He smiles, his lips brushing mine as he does. “And what are you?”

I press my mouth to his, my tongue seeking his. Grabbing his hair for purchase, I deepen the kiss, licking and sucking, making it clear to every person here that Daniel is all mine.

Our friends break into cheers just as I knew they would. But this way, it’s on my terms and not the least bit awkward. We’re breathless and panting when we finally pull apart.

“I’m a doer, Baby Hall. I’m in this. So take me out onto that dance floor. There’s no maybe about it: you’re coming home with me tonight.”