Page 41 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)
Epilogue
Ryder
Nine Months Later
T he sound of skates carving fresh ice echoes through The Nest as I finish my final lap of practice. Six months married, and I still get that same rush when I spot Mia's new truck in the arena parking lot through the glass walls.
The shiny black Ford F-150 with "TAILS & PAWS RESCUE" emblazoned across the side in bold green lettering is a far cry from her old Honda.
The truck that the last of the fundraiser money bought her isn't just transportation—it's a mobile command center complete with kennels, medical supplies, and enough room to transport entire litters when emergencies hit.
Hell yeah. My wife drives a badass rescue truck.
The thought that she's now my wife still makes me grin like an idiot.
After losing one too many years apart, Mia and I couldn't stand to wait another day. We agreed on a three-month engagement… just enough time to plan something worthy of her, but not a second longer than necessary.
And of course, Iron Ridge had never seen a wedding like ours.
The entire ice rink transformed with white flowers and a runway over the ice. Gandalf the goat served as our ring bearer, complete with bow tie and pillow strapped to his back. He nearly ate the altar decorations before finally cooperating.
When Mia appeared in that flowing white dress, everything else disappeared. The past didn't matter anymore. We'd wasted enough time, and I wasn't about to waste another moment without her as my wife.
"Scott!" Coach Brody's whistle pierces the air. "Stop making heart eyes at the parking lot and get over here!"
I skate over to where the team's gathering at center ice, all of us breathing hard from the intense session. Coach has been pushing us harder than ever as we head into the playoffs to defend last seasons Stanley Cup, and it shows in how sharp we look out there.
"Alright, listen up," Coach announces, his arm casually draped around Natalie's waist as she stands beside him in her physical therapy gear. "Season's winding down, and before we hit the final stretch, I wanted to say something."
Blake raises an eyebrow. "You about to get sentimental on us, old man?"
"Shut it, Maddox."
Coach can barely hide the smile on his face as he paces before us.
"This team... this group of absolute… misfits ..." We all laugh. "You've become something special. Not just on the ice, but off it too."
I glance around at my teammates, my brothers, really, and see the same pride reflected in their faces.
Connor's leaning on his stick, that cocky grin softened by the genuine affection in his eyes as he spots Lucy watching in the stands.
Jackson's nodding along, clearly thinking about Cassie waiting for him at home.
Logan's actually smiling from his post at the café overhead, and it's obvious Emma's influence has been nothing short of miraculous.
"Whatever magic's been happening in your personal lives," Coach continues, "it's made you better players. Better men. I'm proud as hell to coach this team."
"Coach getting emotional," Connor stage-whispers to me. "Someone mark the calendar."
"I heard that, dipshit." Coach's glare hasn't changed a bit. "And speaking of emotional, has anyone seen Eli today? I heard he's been acting weird all week."
As if Coach has 'summoned' him, the sound of squeaking wheels echoes through the arena. We all turn to see Eli Thompson wheeling a massive cart onto the ice, loaded with what appears to be enough champagne to float a small boat.
"What the hell is that?" Jackson asks.
"SURPRISE!" Eli bellows, his voice echoing off the arena walls. "Championship celebration practice!"
"Eli," Coach says, rubbing his eyes in frustration. "That's not what we agreed to say. We haven't won the championship yet."
"Ah, so what!" Eli waves dismissively, popping the first bottle. "This team's got magic this year. I can feel it in my bones. Besides, when was the last time any of you celebrated properly?"
Blake looks around at all of us, then shrugs. "I mean, it's pretty much all we do."
But soon enough, we're all sprawled around center ice still in our gear, passing champagne bottles and laughing like the bunch of overgrown kids we basically are.
The wives and girlfriends have joined us on the ice, turning our impromptu celebration into something that feels like family.
Sophia sits between Blake's legs, stealing sips from his bottle while updating her phone.
"This is so going on the team Instagram," she announces.
"Make me look good," Blake requests, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Good on ya! Giving the woman an impossible task," Connor calls out, earning himself a face full of ice chips from Blake's direction.
Lucy laughs, settling against Connor's side. "You two really are like an old married couple."
"Hey, we're the old married couple here," I protest, pulling Mia onto my lap where she fits perfectly. Just like she always has. "Show some respect for your elders."
"Elders?" Emma snorts from where she's sharing Logan's champagne, both of them still wearing their Nest & Grind aprons. "You've been married for six months, not six decades."
"Still counts," Mia says, grinning as she steals my bottle. "We're practically ancient by hockey standards."
Logan, who's been quietly watching this chaos unfold, suddenly speaks up. "You know what's funny? A year ago, most of us were bachelors convinced we were too focused on hockey for relationships."
"Some of us more convinced than others," Natalie teases, nudging Coach Brody's shoulder.
"I was perfectly happy being single," Coach protests.
"Fuck off. You were a grumpy hermit who lived on protein bars," Blake corrects.
"Still am grumpy," Coach mutters, but he's smiling as he pulls Natalie closer.
Jackson raises his bottle. "To Coach, for proving that even the most stubborn among us can find happiness."
"To all of us stubborn bastards," Connor adds, "for finally figuring out what actually matters."
"To Iron Ridge," Sophia chimes in, "for being the kind of place where love stories actually come true."
"To the women who put up with our shit," Blake says, earning cheers from the girls.
"And to Eli," I add, raising my bottle toward our impromptu party host. "For always believing in magic even when the rest of us are too practical."
Eli beams, raising his own bottle highest. "To family!"
"CHEERS!"
We all drink, and for a moment, the arena is filled with the kind of contentment that comes from knowing you're exactly where you belong.
Because Iron Ridge isn't just a place on a map.
It's where frozen ponds become childhood dreams, where rivalries turn to brotherhood on the ice, and where second chances aren't just given… they're fought for.
This town has hockey in its veins and love right where it belongs... in your heart.
"Alright, you degenerates," Coach finally says, though he makes no move to break up the party. "Let's call it a day before Eli decides we need a full parade through town."
"Don't give me ideas," Eli warns, already gathering empty bottles.
As everyone starts to disperse, Blake stands and looks around at all of us scattered across the ice. There's something in his expression. Pride, maybe, or just the satisfaction of a captain who knows his team has become something special.
He turns to follow the rest of the team out, and an hour later, the arena has emptied.
Empty… except for me and Mia.
The janitor's already been through, the lights are dimmed, and the ice gleams empty and perfect under the emergency lighting.
"Hard to believe this is where it all started," Mia says, her voice echoing in the quiet space.
"The fundraiser night?"
"All of it. You coming back to Iron Ridge, the community program, us finding each other again." She leans back against my chest, both of us still sitting on the players' bench. "This place changed everything."
"Nah," I correct, pressing a kiss to her neck. "You changed everything. This place was just the venue."
She turns in my arms, those hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "Awww… so romantic. No wonder I married you."
"Among other reasons," I murmur, my hands sliding to her hips.
"Other reasons?"
"Well, there's my devastating good looks," I tick off on my fingers. "My incredible hockey skills. My modest personality. And didn't you once mention… my enormous—"
"Ability to help out!" Mia cuts me off, smothering my mouth with her hand. "Yes. I shouldn't forget your renovation expertise."
I nip at her palm until she pulls her hand away with a squeal. "That's not what you were screaming last night when I—"
"Public place!" Mia hisses, glancing around the empty arena like the janitor might pop out from behind the goal. She rolls her eyes but kisses me softly. "But hey, the house turned out perfect."
"It did."
"After Bear fixed everything you broke," she reminds me, still smiling.
I stand, pulling her up with me. "Speaking of the house..."
"Yes?"
I lean down until my lips are brushing her ear. "It's finally finished. Every room. Including that new king-size bed in the guest space with the headboard that won't bang against the wall."
Her breath catches, and I feel her shiver against me. "Oh really ?"
"And the soundproof insulation I had installed," I continue, my voice dropping to that deep gravel that I know drives her crazy. "Which means you can be as loud as you want when I do that thing you like with my tongue."
"The thing where you—"
"Yes, babe," I finish, my hands sliding down to cup her ass. "That thing."
Mia's eyes have gone dark with want, and she presses closer to me. "How fast can we get home?"
"Depends." I nip at her earlobe. "How much of a head start do you want to give me?"
"Head start?"
"I'm thinking… I chase you through the house, catch you in the bedroom, and then spend the rest of the night showing you exactly how perfectly silent our new mattress is."
"That's..." she swallows hard, "that's a really good plan."
"I have my moments."
She rises up on her toes, her mouth finding mine in a kiss. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Race you to the truck," she says with that wicked smile that still makes my heart skip.
"You're on, Mrs. Scott."
As we head for the exit, I take one last look around the arena that brought us back together. The Nest, where Iron Ridge comes to cheer and dream and believe in magic.
Tomorrow, we'll be back here for practice. Next week, we'll hopefully be celebrating another win. But tonight?
Tonight is just for us.
And I plan to make the most of every single minute with my high school sweetheart.