Page 25

L auren

Three months later

Lauren adjusted her sunglasses as the summer sun glinted off Lake Quonnipaug. The warmth against her skin felt like pure contentment, especially when Jax's hand found her shoulder as he passed out cold beers to their guests. His movements were easy now—the stiffness from his playoff injuries long gone, along with the fear that had nearly torn them apart.

"To the Charm City Chill," Kane raised his bottle in a toast, "Eastern Conference Champions and Calder Cup finalists who pushed it to game seven when nobody gave us a chance."

A cheer went up from the gathered players and their partners. Though they'd fallen short in game seven of the cup finals, pushing the series to the very end after being down 2-1 had become the stuff of hockey legend.

"And to Thompson," Marcus added with uncharacteristic emotion, "whose defensive play in games six and seven ranked as the most effective in the AHL's tracking history. Guy played like he had a forcefield around the net."

Lauren caught the small, satisfied smile that crossed Jax's face as he ducked his head at the praise. His return for the final two games of the championship series—fully healed and playing the most disciplined hockey of his career—had made Lauren proud in a way she'd never expected to feel about the sport.

"Speech!" Dmitri called out, raising his bottle higher.

Jax squeezed Lauren's shoulder and stood, his thumb absently brushing over the ring on her left hand—a simple solitaire that he'd presented to her the night after the finals, down on one knee in their new backyard with Penalty and Tripod as witnesses.

"Not much to say," Jax began, his deep voice rumbling with emotion he no longer tried to hide. "Except thanks. To Coach Vicky for believing in evolution." He glanced down at Lauren, his eyes soft with a tenderness that still made her heart skip. "To Dr. Mackenzie for teaching me about different kinds of strength and for saying yes when I didn't deserve it."

He looked around at the gathered team. "And to all of you—for being the family I never expected to find. For having my back on and off the ice."

Lauren watched as emotions played across the faces of the team members—these men who had become so much more than just Jax's teammates over the past year. They'd stood by him during the Philadelphia incident, rallied when the service dog program was threatened, supported their relationship through its rocky patches.

"Even when I was being an idiot about playing through injuries," Jax added with a self-deprecating smile that drew knowing laughter.

Oliver raised his bottle. "That's what families do, Thompson. Call you on your bullshit and then help you fix it."

"To family," Kane concluded, bringing the toast full circle. "The ones we're born with and the ones we choose."

As conversations broke into smaller groups, Allison dropped into the chair beside Lauren with the casual confidence that had made her such a valuable guide to navigating life with a professional hockey player.

"So," Allison asked with a knowing smile, "have you set a date?"

"Not yet," Lauren admitted. "We're thinking after next season. Give us time to settle into the house first."

The lakeside property they'd purchased—a renovated craftsman overlooking the peaceful waters of Lake Quonnipaug—had become their project for the summer. The merging of their lives under one roof had been surprisingly seamless, as though they'd been meant to build this home together all along.

"Smart," Allison nodded approvingly. "The season is chaotic enough without adding wedding planning."

Across the yard, Lauren watched Jax crouched beside Charlie, the service dog who had become the unofficial mascot of the Chill. The program had expanded beyond anything she'd imagined, with ten service dogs now in regular training at the arena and corporate sponsorships covering all expenses.

Dmitri appeared at her side, offering a plate of grilled kabobs. "Doctor Lauren, you must eat. Big man says you skip lunch when surgery runs long."

Lauren accepted the food with a smile, touched by how the team had adopted her into their protective circle. "He worries too much."

"Is his job now," Dmitri said with a wink. "Before, protect team on ice. Now, protect doctor off ice too."

"I don't need protecting, Dmitri."

"Everyone needs family watching their backs," the Russian replied with surprising seriousness. "Hockey teaches this. Is why we win—we protect each other."

Ethan flopped down nearby with the easy familiarity of someone who'd spent countless hours at their dinner table. The rookie had become Jax's unofficial protégé, seeking guidance both on and off the ice.

"Still can't believe Thompson's engaged," he said, eyeing the kabobs enviously until Dmitri handed him one. "Thanks, man."

"Why's that so hard to believe?" Lauren asked, amused by his apparent disbelief.

"Because he's..." Ethan gestured vaguely. "You know. Thompson."

Lauren laughed. "Even enforcers fall in love, Ethan."

"Yeah, but Thompson was like, the ultimate lone wolf before you. Now he's hosting barbecues and giving me relationship advice."

"I would not take love advice from Thompson," Dmitri deadpanned. "He got lucky with good woman. Pure accident."

"Says the guy who strikes out at every bar in New Haven," Kane chimed in, joining their growing circle with fresh beers.

As the afternoon stretched into evening, Lauren found herself by the water's edge, watching the sunset paint the lake in shades of amber and rose. She sensed Jax before she heard him, a developed awareness of his presence that still amazed her.

"Happy?" he asked simply, his arms wrapping around her waist as he rested his chin on her head.

Lauren leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "Very."

"No regrets about taking a chance on a hockey player with a reputation?"

She turned in his arms, looking up at the face that had become so dear to her. The faint scar near his orbital bone—the only lasting reminder of the fight in Philadelphia—only added character to features she now knew by heart.

"Best risk I ever took," she replied with a smile.

Jax laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "And here I thought I was the one who got lucky."

"I'll leave the hockey terminology to you, but I think we both won this one."

He kissed her then, slow and thorough, as the sun slipped below the horizon and their friends' voices created a distant soundtrack of laughter and conversation.

"I love you," Jax murmured against her lips. "Every day, more than the day before."

"I love you too," Lauren replied. "Enforcer, defenseman, fiancé—every version of you."

From behind them, Oliver's voice called out, "Hey lovebirds! We're starting the bonfire. Bring the s'mores stuff from the kitchen."

Jax grinned against her lips. "Duty calls. Can't disappoint the family."

As they walked back toward the house hand in hand, Lauren felt a deep contentment. This noisy, loyal, sometimes chaotic hockey family had become hers too. She'd gone from being the woman who avoided hockey players to the one who couldn't imagine life without this particular group of them.

Later, as the party wound down and guests gathered around the bonfire, Lauren noticed Stephanie Ellis, the Chill's PR director, in what appeared to be a heated discussion with Marcus by the edge of the firelight. Stephanie's normally composed professional demeanor had slipped, her gestures sharp and agitated while Marcus maintained his characteristic analytical calm.

"That doesn't look good," Lauren observed quietly to Jax as they gathered empty bottles.

Jax followed her gaze, his eyebrows rising slightly. "Adeyemi and Ellis? Didn't know they even talked outside of media obligations."

"They don't usually," Lauren replied, unable to look away from the unfolding drama. "Something's definitely wrong."

They were too far away to hear the conversation clearly, but Stephanie's voice carried occasionally—phrases like "completely undermined months of work" and "player contracts at stake" cutting through the evening air.

"Should we intervene?" Lauren whispered, concerned by the escalating tension.

"No way," Jax replied, shaking his head. "Marcus handles conflict the same way he handles his defensive zone coverage. Trust me, he's got a game plan."

As they watched, Stephanie thrust what looked like a tablet into Marcus's hands, jabbing her finger at the screen. Marcus studied whatever she was showing him, his expression transitioning from composed analysis to what might have been surprise—a rare crack in his impassive facade.

"I couldn't care less about your statistical models," they heard Stephanie say, her voice now clear in the quiet evening. "The damage is done. Three players with contract negotiations now have your analytics working against them. Fix it, Marcus."

She turned on her heel, striding toward her car with the controlled fury of someone barely containing their anger. Marcus stood completely still for a moment, staring at the tablet in his hands before looking up to watch her departure.

To Lauren's surprise, Marcus suddenly moved, calling after Stephanie with uncharacteristic urgency. "Your conclusion is based on incomplete data sets," he insisted, his voice carrying across the yard. "Look, I get you're pissed, but these numbers don't lie, Stephanie. If you would just look at the probability factors—"

"I don't need your probability factors!" Stephanie spun around, cutting him off. "I need you to stop releasing player analytics to The Athletic without going through PR first. This isn't just about your precious data, Marcus. These are people's careers—their livelihoods—that you've potentially tanked."

The raw emotion in her voice silenced even Marcus, who stood with the tablet clutched in his hands, looking as close to flustered as Lauren had ever seen him.

"Not every decision in hockey should be made by a spreadsheet," Stephanie added, quieter now but no less intense. "Some of these guys have families, injuries you don't know about, personal situations your numbers don't capture. Did you ever think about that before you published your little 'Moneyball' hockey experiment?"

With that parting shot, she got into her car and drove away, gravel spraying slightly under her tires. Marcus remained motionless for several seconds before his shoulders dropped a fraction—a tell of frustration that seemed significant from someone so controlled.

Dmitri appeared beside them, handing them fresh beers. "Ah, the statistical robot and the media witch are fighting again. Is normal."

"Normal?" Lauren asked.

"Those two?" Dmitri grinned. "Fight like this since training camp last year. He says numbers, she says stories. Both too stubborn to see they want same thing." He winked at Lauren. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Something's definitely happening between those two," Lauren mused, watching as Marcus rejoined the group, his usual composure slightly frayed around the edges.

"Ten bucks says they kill each other before training camp," Jax wagered with a grin.

Lauren studied the stiff set of Marcus's shoulders as he spoke with Kane across the yard, remembering the flash of real emotion she'd glimpsed on his face when Stephanie drove away.

"No," she said thoughtfully. "Ten bucks says there's something else entirely going on between those two. Something neither of them wants to admit."

Jax looked skeptical. "Marcus and Stephanie? He breaks down hockey into percentages and algorithms, and she crafts narratives and manages egos. They're from different planets."

"So were we," Lauren reminded him, leaning into his side as his arm automatically wrapped around her waist. "Sometimes the most unexpected combinations work out best."

"Hey Adeyemi!" Ethan called across the yard. "Where'd your girlfriend go?"

Marcus's head snapped up, his expression darkening. "Ellis is not my girlfriend. She is an illogical, emotionally-driven PR professional who refuses to acknowledge empirical evidence."

The team erupted in good-natured laughter, clearly a familiar dynamic playing out.

"Methinks the statistician doth protest too much," Oliver stage-whispered, earning a rare glare from Marcus.

"Speaking of unexpected combinations," Jax murmured against her hair, "what do you say we kick everyone out and have an early evening?"

Lauren smiled up at him, still amazed at how far they'd come from that first night when he'd arrived at her clinic with an injured kitten and a reputation she'd been determined to avoid.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied, turning to face the group. "Alright, family dinner's over. Time for you all to head home."

Amidst good-natured grumbling and prolonged goodbyes—the kind that only happen between people who truly care for each other—Lauren watched Jax move among his teammates, this found family that had become hers too. He was different with them now, more open, more at ease with himself. They had all changed each other, made each other better.

As the last car pulled away, Jax wrapped his arms around her from behind, both of them watching the taillights disappear down the winding road.

"Think Marcus will figure it out?" Lauren asked, thinking of the statistician's carefully controlled expression when Stephanie's name was mentioned.

"Eventually," Jax replied. "Some lessons take longer to learn than others. Took me long enough."

"What lesson is that?"

Jax turned her in his arms. "That sometimes the most valuable things in life can't be measured in goals or hits or wins." His fingers brushed her cheek. "Sometimes they're measured in moments like this."

As they headed inside, arm in arm, with Penalty and Tripod waiting on the porch, Lauren thought about the unexpected journey that had brought them here. From an emergency with a wounded kitten to building a life together, surrounded by a family they'd both chosen.

Read all about Marcus and Stephanie’s romance in Bar Down.