Page 85 of Falling for the Pucking Bad Boy

I’m stunned.

I mentioned that I wanted Dad to come to terms with us—as much as he could—before we took any significant steps, but that’s huge.

“I did,” he deadpans.

“And he said yes?”

“He said you needed to say yes.”

“I already did.”

“Say it again.”

“I don’t like repeating myself,” I sigh, looking down at my empty fingers that will soon hold Judson Wells’s ring. They’ll never look the same again. “Besides—”

“I swear to God, woman, you’ve had your fun. And if I’m going to sit here on my knees for another minute, I will definitely make a scene.”

A playful defiance sparkles in my eyes, offset by the affectionate exasperation in his voice. His feigned impatience is a dance we both know well, but the gravity behind the act is new and exhilarating.

“Fine,” I tease, the warmth of a thousand unspoken promises tumbling into a single word. “Yes. Yes, Judson Wells, I’ll marry you. And no, you don’t need to make a scene...unless you count the one, you're already making by making me the happiest woman in the world.”

I reach out, trembling slightly as he opens the black box to reveal the ring. It glints even in the low light as if it’s winking at me, just like him when he’s on the ice.

Wells slips the ring onto my finger and stands, taking me into his arms before his lips collide needily with mine. In all his fashion, his tongue slides into my mouth, and gone is the innocence and teasing.

This is a hungry and silent promise of forever.

Damn, who would’ve known that I’d get proposed to at this same bar where I stopped him from going at Charles Gagnon?

“We’ve got quite the story, don’t we?” Wells whispers, his breath warm against my ear as his lips graze my temple. “Let’s get you home. I want to celebrate.”

“How about we up the ante and celebrate in the car?” I solicit as I press my lips to the outline of his jaw. “I don’t want to wait.”

He laughs, a sound that wraps around me and comforts me. One I’m never going to get sick of. “You’re becoming a bad influence on me, Snowflake.”

“Just don’t moan too loud when I’m rubbing you through your pants,” I tease. “You might make the driver uncomfortable.”

“Oh, please. You know, that’s why they have a divider. I’m sure the driver won’t hear a thing. You’ll be rocking the whole thing when you sit in my lap, taking me nice and deep.”

God.

And it sounds fitting because that’s precisely where he’s meant to be.

Because I’ll love Judson Wells forever and always.

29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

WELLS

Two years later…

New Brunswick isn't just a spot on the map anymore; it's home, etched deeply into the 'us' Rory and I have built. We did the wedding quickly, and we said, "I do," like it was the easiest thing we’ve ever done.

And in a way, it was because when you're that sure about someone, you don't need a long engagement to confirm what you’ve known from the first kiss.

Living here was Rory’s idea. I thought I'd be the one to move, pack up my bags, and plant new roots where her life was already sprouting. She wanted to be closer to her dad, who moved to New Brunswick, to be closer to the team, and I've got family where I least expected it. I sometimes catch him giving me those “coach” looks across the dinner table, but they’ve softened a tad when Rory laughs with me.

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