Page 43

THIRTY-FIVE

HANNAH

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” Phone in hand, my thumbs fly over the screen. If I don’t get this scene out of my head, I’ll forget it, and that would be a travesty, because the words the hero just whispered in my ear are literally making me melt. I never thought I’d love a swoony man so much—I always leaned toward the bad boy, the forbidden, the age gap—but god, this story is writing itself, and it’s all because the man is such a hidden cinnamon roll.

“Are you in pain?” Millie offers me an arm while simultaneously scanning the hallway of the hockey arena.

I wave her off without speaking. If I do, I’ll lose the plot.

“Are you calling 911? Do you need me to get Daniel? Daniel !” She hollers like a lunatic.

Shit. If I don’t calm my baby’s aunt down, a slew of huge hockey players are liable to come running out on their pointy knife shoes.

“I’m fine,” I huff. All I can do now is hope I got enough of the sentence down to spur the memory of the words that just came to me. This book is begging to be written. The couple won’t stop talking to me, but finding time to write it is damn near impossible.

I can’t wait until this season comes to an end and things are a tiny bit less hectic. Though will they be? Daniel’s season will just be ramping up, so I’ll be busy cheering him on at home games or wallowing in self-pity when he’s traveling.

The opposite seasons are going to be a major hurtle, though if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll actually get some writing done while he’s on the road. My goal is to get this book edited and published before this baby arrives in January. If I don’t, then I worry that it’ll never happen.

“Are you sure?” Millie grasps my arms and inspects every inch of me.

I roll my eyes and shake her off. “I was working on my book. I know it’s crazy, but if I didn’t get the words down, then I would have forgotten them.”

Millie smiles knowingly. “I get that. When I get a lyric in my head, if I don’t write it down, something ends up lost, and I’ll stress for months about how it’s not quite right, and a year later, after I’ve recorded and can’t make changes, the original lyric will come to me.”

“Yes, that!” Excitement courses through me. This girl gets me. “Do you have a note dedicated to random lyrics?”

Millie pulls out her phone and taps on the app. The first note on the screen is filled with words. Half-written songs. Ideas. Bits of songs I recognize from her last album. Millie is a goddess. She somehow managed to write and record an album while parenting an infant.

My chest tightens. I hadn’t thought about how challenging it must have been for her, but it gives me hope. If she can do it, then maybe I can figure out how to be a mom and have a career.

“Want me to distract Daniel so you can get the scene done?” Millie offers. “I can tell him all about what Gavin did to me last night in the locker room after practice.”

With a laugh, I shake my head. Oh god, her poor brother would be horrified. “Nah, I think I’m good.”

Arm looped with mine, she tips her head in my direction. “Okay, but the offer stands. I’m always happy to torture him to buy you more writing time.”

“Appreciate that.” I lean into her.

It’s the absolute truth. Especially because our little moment distracted me from the nerves that have been plaguing me all day, not knowing exactly what Daniel has been up to.

When we step into the arena and I spot all of my girlfriends hanging out by the bench while the guys skate, all in casual clothes rather than their hockey gear, my stomach does a somersault, and this time it’s not because the baby is kicking me.

He or she has been doing it more and more every day. Especially when I stop moving like I am right now. With a hand over my stomach, I take in the scene. So many of our friends showed up to find out the sex of our baby. And—my heart expands almost painfully—my brothers. Every single one of them. Even Ash.

I have to blink back the tears at the show of support.

Never in my life have all of my favorite people been in one room. Most certainly not for something for me.

“Surprise,” Millie whispers as she pulls me toward the ice.

Likely noticing the way the chatter in the arena quiets, Daniel slows to a stop and spins. When he spots me, his face lights up. “Hey, dream girl!” he yells like a complete lunatic.

I shake my head, but warmth blooms in my chest. The man has no shame.

“Hi, Playboy. What are we doing here?”

My brothers get to me before Daniel can, each pulling me in for a hug. It takes far more effort than I’d like to admit to hold back the tears as I squeeze them all extra tight. “I cannot believe you’re here,” I say to Ash as he releases me.

“Wouldn’t miss it. Besides, your boy threatened bodily harm if we didn’t show up.” His lips kick up on one side, his eyes twinkling.

I peer around him, focusing on Daniel—sweet, young Daniel, and look back at my brother—a former Navy SEAL who’s as tall as the guys on skates and knows seventy ways to kill a man. Maybe more.

“Listen, anyone who has the balls to threaten me in order to keep my sister happy deserves my respect,” Ash mumbles.

“He is always full of surprises,” I whisper, mostly to myself. I’m still processing the scene.

He waves me over to the boards, and with Gavin’s help, lifts me and settles me on my feet on a length of Bolts blue carpet that’s been rolled out on the ice, leading to the center where the puck is normally dropped.

“Hi, dream girl,” he says.

I shiver, not only because of the affection in his tone, but also because it’s cold in here, and I stupidly didn’t even bring a sweatshirt. I rub at my bare arms as I take inventory of all our friends, and I’m immediately warmed when he wraps me in a hug and holds me close.

“All my brothers are here,” I tell him, like he doesn’t already know it.

He chuckles as he drags his knuckles down my skin, sending goose bumps rushing across my flesh. “Yes, they are. I wanted to share the excitement with everyone. That okay?” He peers down at me like this is really a question. As if this isn’t already one of the best days of my life, and nothing’s even happened yet.

“It’s more than okay.” I press a kiss to his lips.

Behind me, Lennox shouts, “Drop the puck already!”

Daniel turns me so we’re facing our friends. Everyone but War, Brooks, Aiden, and Noah—who remain on the ice with us—has gathered on the other side of the glass.

Daniel clears his throat. “Thank you all for coming?—”

Aiden zooms past us, and doing his best Britney Spears impression, croons, “Oh baby, baby.”

“Oh fuck.” Daniel hangs his head.

I choke on a laugh, but it’s cut off when War skates in front of me and sings, “We really want to know.”

Brooks is next, scowling, his words more of a mumble than a tune. “The sex of the baby.”

Across the ice, Sara screams, “Yeah, Brookie. Sing it!”

All three guys spin on their skates facing us, their arms outstretched, and then start singing the rest of the song.

“Oh, baby, baby,

We’re your uncles and we need to know-oh

And now is the time, yeah.

Tell me, are you a boy baby,

Or a girl, ’cause we need to know now,

Yeah, we do.

Your dad’s cool, but your mom’s the best, and we,

We must confess, we still don’t know (don’t know)

When Playboy shoots, we’ll all find out,

So take the stick.

Hit it, Playboy, just one time.”

Daniel tosses his head back and laughs, still holding me tight.

War eases forward and holds out a hockey stick.

With a kiss to my lips, Daniels murmurs, “Ready for this?”

I push him away, eager to see what happens next.

As he takes the stick, Noah appears at my side and drapes an arm over my shoulders to keep me warm.

I smile up at him, and he presses a kiss to my forehead.

The guys skate, maneuvering pucks back and forth between them. Then, in unison, they pull back and slap their sticks down.

An instant later, a cloud of bright Bolts blue erupts.

With a whoop, Daniel spins, skates toward me, the biggest smile on his face, and scoops me up. “We’re having a boy, baby! A fucking boy.”

The joy pulsing through my veins is so powerful I feel like I’ll erupt. “I knew it,” I murmur, hugging him tight.

He sets me on my feet, and without a word, pulls his jersey over his head and yanks it over mine, instantly encasing me in his warmth and scent.

Around us, our friends and family hoot and holler, but all I can see is Daniel. I pull the neck of his jersey up to my nose and inhale, closing my eyes, and sink into the comfort only he could provide. When I open them again, Lennox is holding out a small pastel pink and blue bag.

He takes it and holds it between us. “Baby’s first present.”

My throat grows tight. “Our son’s first present.”

Dark eyes glassy, he nods.

We’re going to have a son .

With a strengthening breath, I pull the blue sparkly paper from the bag and toss it at Noah. My heart thumps as I grasp fabric and pull the tiny Bolts blue jersey out. When I hold it up, the entire crowd goes wild.

“So the little guy can cheer for his daddy,” Daniel says with the shiest grin.

The expression tugs at my heart, like maybe the baby is in there pulling at my heartstrings.

I turn the tiniest jersey I’ve ever seen around, and when I find a number 18 and the name Hall emblazoned above it, I grin so wide my cheeks hurt.

“Wanted my family to have matching jerseys.” The low rasp claws at my defenses.

“And I’m your family?” I ask, heart thundering.

God. This is it. I think I finally get what he’s been trying to tell me all along.

With an arm around my waist, he pulls me close. “Yeah, dream girl. You and our baby are my family.” He ducks and examines my face, his lips tugging down. “Why are you crying?”

I hadn’t even noticed I was, but I don’t even care. “Because I just—” I shake my head and cup his cheek. “Do you love me, Daniel?”

He blinks at me, a deer in the headlights.

“Because,” I sniffle, “I think I may be head-over-heels in love with you.”

“Holy shit.” He leans into my hand.

Tears continue to fall, my smile only growing, along with my heart. “No. Actually, no thinking. I’m in love with you, Daniel. And I’m really happy you’re my family.”

Forehead pressed to mine, he sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he blinks, tears crest his lashes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my entire life. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, dream girl. I’m so crazy in love with you I don’t even know what to do right now.” Then, straightening with a jolt, he yips and holds up my hand. “I love this woman!”

My chest expands, like it’s carving out a permanent space for him as the people gathered cheer.

I lean my head against his chest, plastering my body to his, the tiny jersey fisted in my hand pressed between us. “I can’t wait to come to the games with our son and cheer on my favorite Bolts player of all time.”

He kisses my forehead. “Say it a little louder. I’m not sure everyone heard you.”

Laughing, I tip my head back and rest my chin on his chest. “You’re my favorite person of all time.”

“Fuck, Han. I’m getting hard, and your brother is right there .”

A zap of electricity arcs through me. “Take me home, Playboy. I want to make love to my favorite hockey player of all time.”