Coach Ralston shook his head at us.
“Coach doesn’t seem to be a fan,” Maddox commented from Shea’s other side, his arm draped around whatever girl he’d picked up at the bar last night.
The kids lifted their jerseys to reveal shirts underneath. Some were plain white, and others had letters stamped on them.
I read, then laughed.
A-S-K H-E-R.
I looked over to Shea, who was smiling up at me.
Yeah okay, I had this.
I dropped to my knee in front of the woman I loved as her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“It’s actually fitting that we’re doing this in a hockey rink. It was the rink that saved me, kept me safe, sane, gave me a home. That’s what you’ve become to me, Shea. You’re my home. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a partner—loving, fierce, smart, sexy, strong, and so damn kind. You’re everything I want as a mother for my kids—our kids, if you want more. You’ve given me everything, your heart, your soul, Elliott. You’ve given me a reason to really live again.”
I took the box from my pocket, the velvet worn at the corner, and I popped the lid, revealing the three-quarter carat antique diamond ring. The mini diamonds that swirled around it reminded me of Shea, delicate, yet strong.
She gasped as she saw it, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
“This is my grandmother’s ring. She wore it every day for fifty-five years. They had the kind of marriage that could conquer a country, and I know we’ll have the same.”
I sensed Maddox smiling at us, thankful that my brother had given his blessing to give Shea our grandmother’s ring.
“So please marry me, Shea Lansing. I’m already the luckiest man on the planet. Marry me and make me an honest one, too.” I grinned up at her.
“Hey! Down here!” I heard Elliott yell.
We both turned to see her smiling up at us.
Then she turned on her skates, and her teammates ripped a Velcro label from her jersey, then stepped away.
Where her jersey had previously read “Lansing,” now different bright blue letters stood out against the white jersey.
It read—PORTER.
“She says yes!” the entire team yelled out in unison.
I stood, sweeping Shea into my arms as the crowd around us burst into applause.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Hudson Porter,” Shea whispered in my ear before kissing me.
It wasn’t at the Sharks’ arena. There was no jumbotron. No overdone scene. Just a little neighborhood rink, a bunch of kids in their hockey gear, my friends at my side, my brother at my back, and my daughter on the ice.
“You’ll never regret it,” I promised her.
And I made sure she never did.
Epilogue
Shea
The ballroom had been utterly transformed—muted lights, rich velvet curtains that hung from the ceiling in sectioned quarters, golden ropes tying securing them. Glittering goblets of sparkling champagne floated by on silver trays carried by waiters in black tie, their faces partially covered by dark masks.
The guests were dressed in elaborate ball gowns or suits, some with top hats, some with feathers in their hair, or tiaras.
Everyone had a mask.
Some more detailed than the next.
Every Shark and celebrity currently occupying the dance floor or visiting in the rich velvet-lined booths tucked against the walls, or slinging drinks by the bar. We’d already chatted with Gage and Bailey, Rory and Paige, Warren and Jeannine. Already been teased and joked with Eric and Connor and Noble. No sign of Lukas yet, but I knew he’d be around sometime.
These men were more than brothers—though my quick meeting with Maddox had been eye-opening. The way Hudson’s little brother had stepped up to help him with no questions asked...I would always love him for that no matter how much of a rebel he was. But Hudson’s Sharks? This family that I’d been welcomed into?
It was precious.
Priceless.
Something so vital it was like breathing.
I hadn’t known how badly I’d needed Hudson, or a real family, until I was graciously, miraculously given one. So many years I’d kept people firmly outside the walls I’d built around my heart, never knowing what a cold, lonely existence it was until Hudson slipped through the cracks and showed me what real love was.
And though we wore masks tonight, I saw these Sharks and their wives for what they truly were—my family.
Hudson had chosen my mask for the event—a sparkling silver one that framed my gray eyes, my thick lashes tickling its edges every time I blinked. It was the same shade as my gown, which was cinched at the waist and flared at the bottom in layers and layers of tool and silk.
“You look like a star,” he whispered in my ear, warm shivers dancing down my skin.
“If that’s the case then you look like the moon I’m soaring toward,” I said, spinning in his embrace as he led us onto the dance floor. He was stunning in a black suit with a sparkling silver vest, his mask a mixture of ice-blue and liquid-silver. I’d picked it. The color matched that cool calm and ice-forged strength that naturally radiated from him.
The February air outside was frigid, but being next to Hudson? The cold couldn’t touch me.
He spun us to the beat of the string quartet that played gentle tunes from the corner of the massive ballroom. The masquerade charity event was one for celebrities who wanted to raise funds for Paige’s corporation—the same one that helped Melissa. Who helped countless people in a variety of situations in their time of need.
“You’re the star,” he said. “Especially with that ring on your finger.” He eyed my left hand poised on his muscled shoulder.
“What, this old thing?” I teased, wiggling my fingers to make the modest diamond sparkle under the lights. I’d loved it the second he’d cracked the lid on the box from his one-kneed position when he’d proposed. Loved that he hadn’t gotten the biggest diamond he could afford—which was giant. He knew me. Knew I was simple, understated, quiet. “I got it from a real hell of a man.”
“Is that so?” He pulled me tighter against him.
“Mhmm,” I said. “He treats me like a goddess.”
“As he should,” he said, pressing his cheek to mine as we danced.
“I don’t deserve him,” I said, not for the first time since we’d been engaged. Hudson was everything I’d dreamed of for a partner and more. For years I never thought a man like him existed.
He smacked my silk-covered rear, hard enough to sting.
I gaped up at him.
“Every time you say it,” he said, shrugging. “I spank.”
I bit down on my lip, my cheeks flushing.
His blue eyes flared behind his mask.
“Is that why you do it?” he asked. “Because you enjoy it?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not.”
“Challenge accepted.”
“No challenge,” I hurried to say.
“Most certainly a challenge. One I will adamantly explore to see if you do or don’t enjoy it when we get home.” He paused our dance like he might whisk us back home right that second.
“Stop,” I batted his chest. “This is our night out,” I continued. “And our family is here.”
“Elliott is at Grace’s,” he said, his head tilted.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m aware Elliott and I are your family. But them,” I said, pointing to where I could see Connor and Ivy and Eric and Pepper, and with Lukas, who was looking like the damn Phantom of the Opera himself finally trailing behind them. “They’re our family too. And they are here. So let’s enjoy the night.”
He smiled at me before turning to wave at the guys.
“And every night after,” he said into my ear, the heat from his breath sending more chills racing across my skin.
“And every night after,” I repeated.
Lukas
The party was in full swing. Usually, masquerades were exactly the kin
d of thing I’d go for. Masks. Anonymity. Dark corners for darker deeds.
Hell, I’d been eye-fucked by half the single women here and a few of the married woman.
That was the most action I’d had in six months.
Five. Fucking. Months. With zero fucking. None.
Because the one woman I wanted didn’t want me.
And there she was. My breath caught as Faith stepped into my line of sight as I leaned against the wall, content to simply watch her.
I’d gone from man-whore to pathetic.
Hell, even if I wanted to fuck another woman here, I wasn’t sure my dick would let me. It rose for only one woman—the one who smelled like pears and vanilla. With the Midwestern accent, silky red hair, and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. Like fresh new grass after a Swedish winter.
Swedish winters were fucking long.
She smiled at something the guy next to her said, but even with the mask, I knew that wasn’t her stupid frat-boy boyfriend.
Her mask was white, shimmering, just like the dress that fell down her curved body in a sensuous drape of liquid sunlight.
Faith. God, even her name felt like renewal. New beginnings. New hope.
She was everything I wasn’t. Humble. Sweet. Innocent to the dirtiness that clung to every aspect of the life I’d chosen—that clung to me like the cheap perfume I used to wake up covered in.
But not in five months.
Not since I’d decided she was it. Only her.
She glanced over, saw me, then ripped her eyes away quickly, only to slowly let them return. I knew she felt it too, the seismic shift that happened whenever our eyes locked.
I knew it frightened her, which was why she stayed with frat-boy Fred.
But that was okay. I was in it for the long haul. I’d wait for her to decide she was ready to step onto the ice, for her to accept what I knew would change us both.
Until then, I’d sit on the bench and wait. Hell, she’d only just turned twenty-one. We had time.
“Crab is good,” Noble said as he came to stand next to me. “You should try some.”
I grunted.
He followed my line of sight. “Jesus, you and Faith. Maybe you two can just fuck and get it out of your systems.”
“She has a boyfriend,” I snapped. Like everyone didn’t know that. And if there was one thing I didn’t do, it was get involved with someone who was committed to someone else.
“You haven’t heard?” he asked, his brows drawing together.
“Heard what?” I asked, watching Faith walk away, her curves swaying as she headed toward the edge of the room.
No doubt to find Frat-boy Fred in one of those aforementioned corners.
“They broke up last week.”
My head snapped toward Noble’s. “What?”
“Yeah. Gentry was talking about it in the locker room. They’re done.”
Something electric rippled down my spine. Anticipation. Adrenaline. It was the same feeling I got just before I geared up.
I walked away from Noble without another word, following Faith across the room.
She might not be with the frat-boy anymore, but she sure as fuck wasn’t single.
She was already mine.
Now I just had to prove it to her.
Game. On.
* * *
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About the Author
Samantha Whiskey is a wife, mom, lover of her dogs and romance novels. No stranger to hockey, hot alpha males, and a high dose of awkwardness, she tucks herself away to write books her PTA will never know about.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my incredible husband and my awesome kids without which I would live a super boring life!
Huge thanks must be paid to these amazing authors who have always offered epic advice and constant support! Not to mention creating insanely hot reads to pass the time with! Big shout out to A.H. for making this shine. And thank you to each and every single one of you AMAZING readers who love the Sharks as much as I do!
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