Page 111 of His Jersey

“I apologize for everything.”

“Yeah?”

He nods sharply, assuringly. “Yes, son. Now, go out there and get married. I’m going to get to know your father-in-law. Make sure his investments are sound. Then you and Ella get cracking on grandkids. I can’t wait to spoil them.” He smiles as if finally, after all these years, he’s settling into family life.

First, Dad and I exchange a brisk hug, but after a beat, he doesn’t let go. I let out a breath because I think we’ve both needed this for several years now. Maybe my whole life.

Then, I hurry to my place at the altar because I won’t be late for my bride.

The rest of the guests filter into the massive cathedral. I spot my Knights teammates and Coach Badaszek, along with an assortment of other players from over the years. Forget Hockey Town. This is like Hockey City. We could probably put together four teams right now and have a solid match. But I’m not giving up the Stanley. Not until I retire.

My gaze flits over family members and friends, and then the “Wedding March” starts. Carlos, my best man, walks down the aisle with the maid of honor, his sister. When he passes Marisol, he discretely points at her, then himself, and at the altar.

If I’m not mistaken, her lips quirk with a smile. The rest of the bridal party makes their way forward. Bark Wahlburger trots proudly down the aisle, gripping a little pouch in his mouth that contains the rings. Ella’s dad trained him not to eatit … and the dog makes sure he gets in his daily strengthening exercises now that he’s moved to Cobbiton with us.

The string band changes the song. A radiant light shines from the other end of the aisle. Alongside her father, steady on both feet, Ella floats toward me.

I recall her asking me if she was dreaming when we arrived at my parents’ place, er, palace. I could use a pinch now. Or a slap on the face because I’m gawking, slack-jawed, struck dumb.

She is a fairytale princess who came to life dressed in a white gown with a full skirt, lace, sparkles, and beads. She makes a grand, show-stopping march down the aisle as everyone gasps, oohs, and ahhs.

I’m holding my breath.

Ella is stunning.

It’s only when her hand finds mine that my feet return to the earth.

“Ready?” she whispers, biting her lip.

“Let’s do this,” I reply, unable to hold back my smile.

She squeezes my hand and then adds, “I had the number ten stitched into the inside of the back of my gown, like on your jersey.”

I beam. My goodness, do I love this woman. I tell her as much and look forward to telling her every hour on the hour forever. Maybe every minute. I’ll show her too. In big ways and little, because I couldn’t be happier.

The ceremony is seamless with the exchange of vows and rings. When I hear the words, “You may kiss,” the world comes into sharp focus and she’s standing in front of me. Ella is my everything. She wraps her arms around me; I cradle her head in my hand. With the other on the curve of her lower back, I dip my wife for one long, dramatic, romantic kiss.

We combined the reception with a housewarming partybecause we’re finally, officially moving in together and have had enough hotel stays to last a while.

After countless offers of congratulations, Liam—one of my teammates who was “away” for the end of last season, clinks his glass with me and asks, “So where does a billionaire take his bride on their honeymoon?”

Ella appears by my side, out of breath. “I just tossed the bouquet.”

“Please tell me Marisol caught it.” I want Carlos to be as happy as me, but I also want to see an end to his pining.

She shakes her head. “It was Jess.”

“She works for the Knights.”

Liam lets out a grunt, reminding me that I haven’t answered his question.

“Oh, right. We’re going camping for our honeymoon.”

“Glamping?”

“No, camping, in a tent,” Ella says. “We’re headed to the Poconos, where I’d go when I was a kid. Plus, we can bring Bark Wahlburger with us.” She pats the dog’s back.

Liam flashes me a look of surprise.

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