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Chapter forty-nine

Best deal I’ve ever made

Jake

I ’m staring at the ceiling of my condo, trying to force myself to sleep, but my mind’s racing. Charlie. It’s always her. Even tonight, the night before the biggest game of my life, she’s the one thing I can’t stop thinking about.

She’s at home with the kids, probably getting them ready for bed, while I’m here trying to do the 'focus on the game’ routine that’s been drilled into me since day one. Usually I can tune everything else out, but tonight, nothing works.

This isn’t just any game—it’s the Stanley Cup Final. The thing I’ve been chasing my entire career. I should be dialed in, laser-focused. Instead, all I want is to be with them.

I spent years in this place chasing nothing but wins, nothing but the next high of a game. But now, there’s more on the line. It’s not just for me anymore. I’m not skating for some contract extension, some headline. I’m skating for them, for my family.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and the second I see her name light up the screen, my whole body relaxes. I grab it, not even trying to hide the smile in my voice.

“Hey, Lady Lightning.”

Her soft laugh is all it takes to ease some of the tension clawing at me. “Hey, Captain Thunder. How’s the pre-game routine going?”

I exhale, rolling onto my side. “I wanna be with you. This shit’s driving me crazy.”

“I know,” she says, her voice a gentle balm. “But you’ve got this. Tomorrow’s everything you ’ve worked for. I’m so proud of you.”

“I don’t care about that,” I mutter, half-joking. “I just wanna come home.”

She scoffs, and I can almost see her shaking her head. “Now I know you’ve lost it. You care, Jake. You’ve poured your whole life into this. And we’ll all be there tomorrow, cheering you on.”

“I know. It’s just hard not having you next to me.” I pause, my voice dropping. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she whispers. “But just think, after you win we’ll celebrate properly.”

The idea of celebrating with her... yeah, that’s something I can focus on. “How are we celebrating, exactly?”

Her soft laugh has me beaming in the dark. “Focus on the game, Brooks. Then we’ll discuss.”

I smile, imagining her sitting on the couch, a grin tugging at her lips. “Fine. Tell Noah and Meadow I love them, okay?”

“Already have. And Jake... we’ll be there, right behind you.”

“I love you,” I say, wishing more than anything I could reach through the phone and pull her close.

“Love you, too,” she whispers before hanging up.

I stare at the phone in my hand for a long moment before setting it back on the nightstand. Somehow just hearing her voice has calmed me, like she’s the one thing keeping me grounded in all this chaos.

***

Game day is a blur. The energy in the rink is a living thing, crackling through the air. Everything—the crowd, the noise, the weight of what’s on the line—it’s all turned up to eleven. This is the biggest game of my life, and everyone knows it.

We’re up against New Jersey, and they’re not going to make it easy. They never do. We’ve been battling th em through the Stanley Cup Final series, going toe to toe. Tonight will be no different.

As we skate out for warm-ups, the place is packed, the roar of the crowd vibrating through my bones. Normally, I can block it all out. Focus on the ice. But tonight feels different. Something’s pulling at me. Something huge. Everything’s on the line.

I go through my routine, stretching, skating, firing a few shots at the net, but my mind drifts back to Charlie, to the kids. To that quiet phone call the night before when all I wanted was to be with her.

Every time I hit the ice, I tell myself it’s just another game. Just another battle. But I can’t fool myself anymore. This isn’t just another win. This is everything. Every inch I skate, every hit I take, it’s not for the Cup—it’s for them. For Charlie, for Noah, for Meadow, for the family that made me whole again.

Focus, Brooks.

When the anthem starts, I do what I always do—sweep the crowd, looking for Charlie, Noah, and Meadow. I expect to see them up in the WAGs box with Zoe, Claire, Tamara, and the rest of the crew.

But when I look up, my heart stops.

My mom.

She’s never been to one of my games. All these years, she’s stayed away. Too anxious. Too fragile. The excuses were always there, always lingering in the background, a weight I carried with me through every game, every season.

She’s sitting right there .

I blink, convinced I’m imagining it. But there she is—my mom, holding Meadow on her lap, with Noah sitting right next to them in his Storm jersey. And Charlie’s sitting close, holding my mom’s hand like they’ve been family for years.

I can’t breathe.

My throat goes dry, and I fight the heat behind my eyes. My mom . Who's never watched me play in person, is sitting with the people I love most, holding my little princess on her knee. The sight knocks the breath out of me.

I’m fucking wrecked.

I swallow down the emotion threatening to spill over. There’s no time for this. Not now. I need to focus. One last game. One last win. And then I’ll have them all in my arms.

The game starts, and it’s a dogfight. New Jersey comes at us hard, crashing the net, throwing hits like they’ve got nothing to lose. Every shift feels like a war. The hits are harder, the plays faster, and the pressure heavier than anything I’ve ever felt before.

First period—it’s a bloodbath. They’re in our faces every time we touch the puck. I take a hard hit into the boards, the impact rattling my teeth, but I shake it off and keep skating. I give as good as I get, dropping my shoulder into one of their defensemen, sending him sprawling into the boards. The crowd roars, and adrenaline surges through me.

But New Jersey isn’t backing down. They play dirty, and before long, tensions boil over.

Midway through the second period, I’m digging in deep behind the net, fighting for control when one of their enforcers slams into me from behind. My face hits the ice, and a sharp sting shoots through my jaw. I see red.

I push up, swing around, and drop gloves without a second thought. The crowd is on its feet, screaming. I’m in his face, fists flying before I even register the pain in my knuckles. He takes a couple of swings, but I don’t stop. I can hear the boys banging their sticks on the boards, the arena vibrating with the noise.

A punch lands on my cheek, but it only fuels me. I grab his jersey, yank him in and throw another right hook. He stumbles, and I take him down to the ice with me. The ref blows the whistle, breaking it up, but by then the damage is done. I feel the blood dripping from a cut over my eyebrow, my chest heaving as I skate to the penalty box.

The crowd’s going wild. Even through the haze of adrenaline, I can see my teammates grinning at me from the bench. My blood’s still pumping, my heart racing like I’m in a damn war zone. But this is our game. I can feel it.

By the third period, we’re tied 2-2. Every muscle in my body is screaming, but I’m not stopping. We’re so close. New Jersey is playing like they’ve got nothing left to lose, and I’m grinding it out on every shift, battling for every puck like it’s the las t one I’ll ever touch. We’re running on fumes, but no one’s backing down.

Five minutes left. We get a power play, and I can feel the momentum shifting. The puck slides to me, and without thinking, I fire it. Top corner. Net.

The horn blares. 3-2. The arena erupts, the noise deafening. My teammates pile on me, shouting, banging helmets, but I know it’s not over yet. There’s still time on the clock and New Jersey’s not done fighting.

They pull their goalie with two minutes left. The pressure is suffocating. Every second drags out like an eternity. My legs are burning, my body screaming for rest, but I block another shot, throwing myself in front of the puck like it’s all I know how to do. Desperation is fueling me now. Desperation to hold the line. Desperation to win.

Fifty seconds. Forty. Thirty. The puck’s flying everywhere, ricocheting off the boards, the net, bodies. Everything's a blur.

Then, with ten seconds left, New Jersey gets one last rush. One of their forwards breaks free and comes flying toward our net. I’m already moving, my legs on fire, heart pounding in my chest. I get in front of him just as he winds up for a shot, and I throw myself in the way. The puck hits my shin pad, and pain explodes up my leg. I don’t even feel the ice as I hit it, my body going numb from the collision.

But the final horn pierces the air, and everything stops. For a second, there’s just ringing in my ears, and then—mayhem. We’ve done it.

We’ve won.

We’ve fucking won the Stanley Cup.

The arena explodes around us, my teammates screaming, throwing their gloves and sticks into the air. I barely register the chaos as they pile on top of me, all of us crashing to the ice in a heap of relief and triumph. All I can feel is the weight of it. The years, the sacrifices, the endless nights, all leading to this moment. We’ve fucking done it.

It’s chaos—beautiful, euphoric chaos.

But even in the middle of all the madness, there’s only one thing I’m thinking about.

I need to get to them.

I barely wait for the cup to be handed off to Ryan before I’m peeling a way from the crowd, my skates carving into the ice as I head straight for the WAGs box. I don’t care about the cameras, the media, or the fans.

When I reach it, skates sliding on the polished floor, the first thing I see is her. My mom. She’s standing now, holding onto the rail as Charlie helps her, and I’m there in two strides, pulling her into the tightest hug of my life.

I lose it.

“Mom,” I choke out, face buried in her shoulder. “You’re here.”

She holds me tight, her voice full of love. “I’m here, Jake. I didn’t want to miss this.”

I pull back, staring at her, and the weight of all those years she wasn’t there lifts in an instant. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

She smiles, her own eyes wet. “Charlie made sure of it. She wanted to make this moment perfect for you.”

Charlie. I turn to her, and I’m wrecked all over again. She’s watching us, her eyes full of love, and I can barely hold myself together.

“You did this,” I say, my voice a rasp of emotion. “You brought her here.”

Charlie nods, swiping away a tear. “Surprise.”

I don’t even think. I pull her in, cradling her face and pressing hard kisses all over it. Not caring about who’s watching, not caring about anything but her.

I pour everything into the kiss—all the love, the gratitude, the sheer disbelief that this woman, who I almost lost years ago, is now the reason my life feels complete.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” I whisper against her lips.

“Brooks! You planning on missing your own Stanley Cup celebration?” Coach’s voice cuts through the moment.

I grin, holding Charlie close. “Gimme a minute, Coach. Just making sure my number one fans are looked after.”

Coach shakes his head in exasperation but I can see the amusement in his eyes. “You’ve got thirty seconds, Brooks. Then I want you back on the ice. You’ve got a Cup to lift.”

I pull Charlie in for one last kiss, murmuring against her lips, “You coming down later?”

“Of cours e. We’ll be right behind you.”

Coach clears his throat again, louder this time. “Tick-tock, Brooks.”

I smirk and ignore him, lost in the warmth of the moment.

“You don’t need to stay up here with me,” my mom says gently. “Go with Jake, Charlie. Take the kids.”

Charlie hesitates, but Meadow tugs her hand. “Yeah, I wanna go with Dada!”

“I’ll be just fine.” My mom waves a hand, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Besides, this is his moment. He wants his family down there with him.”

I glance over at my mom, feeling a surge of emotion at her words. Family. My family.

“Can we go, pleeease?” Noah pipes up.

Charlie looks from the kids to me, then back at my mom. “Alright. Let’s go.”

I can’t wipe the grin off my face as I scoop up Meadow, Noah trailing behind, Charlie’s hand in mine.

As we reach the rink, the chaos of the celebration swallows us—but all I can focus on is the fact that my family is with me. The love of my life and the kids I love like my own. This is what matters.

I let Meadow down to join Noah, and they immediately run toward the boards, wide-eyed with excitement.

Before Charlie can say anything, I pull her in close. “I love you, Charlie. You and the kids—you’re everything.”

She smiles back with that teasing glint in her eyes. “We know. Now go lift that Cup, Brooks.”

I skate back out to the ice, and everything’s a blur. The guys are hugging, shouting, celebrating like crazy. Then the Cup is in my hands. The weight of it is nothing compared to the way my heart feels, full and alive. I lift it high above my head, the roar of the crowd deafening.

As I skate back over to Charlie, I pull her into my arms and kiss her, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she did this for me. She brought my mom here. She’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted.

“You brought my mom,” I whisper in between kisses. “And we won the damn Cup.”

Charlie laughs, her eyes shining with tears. “You deserve it all, Jake.”

I rest my forehead against hers, everything in me raw and vulnerable. “You know I’m gonna marry the shit out of you, right?”

“You better,” she teases. “But maybe when you’re a bit less stinky.”

I chuckle, lifting my hand to curl my pinky around hers. "Let’s seal the deal then."

She laughs softly. “Deal.”

We lean in at the same time, our thumbs pressed together, and I kiss mine lightly, feeling her lips graze the other side. My heart skips a beat, just like it did all those years ago, but this time I don’t hesitate.

I capture her lips with mine, cupping the back of her neck and dipping her low. She’s the girl I let slip through my fingers all those years ago, and now she’s the woman I’ll spend the rest of my life with.

When I pull back, her eyes are a little misty. "That’s one hell of a deal, Captain Thunder."

"Best deal I’ve ever made, Lady Lightning.”

Before I can even take a breath, I hear Chase’s voice booming from behind me. “Zoe, baby! You gonna kiss me like that, too?”

She rolls her eyes but her grin is wide from celebrating. "In your dreams, Walton!" she calls back, but before she can step away, Chase skates up and sweeps her into his arms, spinning her around as she yelps in surprise.

Zoe shoves him, laughing despite herself. “Put me down, you sweaty idiot!”

Chase smirks, not budging an inch. “Will you let me take you on a date now that I’m a Stanley Cup champion?” He leans in, waggling his eyebrows. “I’ll even let you touch it.”

Zoe snorts, catching his double meaning, still squirming in his arms. “Not a chance in hell.”

He finally sets her down, smile widening as she straightens her clothes and turns o n her heel. “The offer’s still on the table, you know!” he calls after her, voice still teasing as she flicks her hair.

Zoe shoots him a look over her shoulder, but the curl of her lips deceives her. “Keep dreaming, bud!”

Chase watches her walk off, grinning like a fool, like he's just won something bigger than the Cup.

The world continues to spin around us with the cheers of my teammates, the flashing of cameras, but none of it matters. I stand there with my arms wrapped around the love of my life, surrounded by our family as the world celebrates around us. And in this moment, I know—this is the real win.

Not the Cup, not the fame.

This. Them. Us.

It’s everything.