Page 86 of Hat Trick Holidate

Tears stream down my face as I look at the two people I love and want to share my life with, permanently.

“Yes,” I croak out. “I’ll marry your daddy.” I kiss her on the cheek. “Yes, I want to be a mom to Jolie, but…”

Bryce’s eyes fall. “Emmaline, no buts. Surely, you knew this was coming.” He looks like his heart could break if I say the wrong thing.

“But do you want to be a dad … again?”

His brows dip. “Again?” He lifts a brow, and his voice raises an octave higher than normal.

“Jolie, do you want to be a sister?” I ask.

“Emmaline, are we having a baby?”

I lift my head up and down, and our eyes meet. “Yes.”

“Jolie, we’re having a baby,” he says with a tender tone as he reaches out and ruffles her golden hair. She giggles and jumps up and down, clapping her hands in joy. He turns to me, his face beaming with pride and love. “We’re going to be a family,” he says, his voice filled with emotion.

She alternates kissing our cheeks. My heart flutters with excitement as I watch Jolie’s joyful reaction and Bryce’s beaming smile. I eagerly nod, my tears of happiness turning into tears of overwhelming love. Jolie squeals and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. I return the embrace, feeling a sense of completeness and belonging with this beautiful family.

He says it again, lifting me into the air, “We’re having a baby.”

Roman and his date, Dana, Reed, Brooke, and the Cross crew snap pictures, clap, and yell as Jolie and I wear matching number nine jerseys on the best day of my life.

I keep darting my eyes from my engagement ring, anemerald-cut ruby surrounded by diamonds resting on a thick gold band to the man who started healing my heart eight years ago.

Bryce’s hand rubs my back, kisses the crown of my head and I whisper, “We’re a family.”

Reed asks Bryce, “How does it feel? You got the girl, the daughter, and a baby.”

And Bryce responds with a grin, “Better than any hat trick on the ice. Christmas Eve will forever be referred to as my Hat Trick Holidate.”

epilogue

BRYCE

“What doyou mean you’re stuck on the side of the road? It’s my wedding day,” I say to Corbin Shearer, my former Stallions teammate and professional hockey player for the Nashville Notes.

“I stopped at Bucee’s to fill up and get some of those famous candied pecans and… there’s a woman stranded with a dog.”

Inwardly, I chuckle. “Corbin, you don’t have to help every single person. Have you talked to her?”

His voice crackles through the phone. “Yeah, I’ve been out here holding her dog so she could go inside, use the bathroom and get something to eat.”

“How long?”

“About twenty minutes.”

Laughing, I say, “Does she want your help? Does this woman want to come to Atlanta… for a wedding?”

“She’s in Georgia, so I assume she lives here.”

“What does her license plate say?” I ask.

“Tennessee. Just tell me if I can bring her… and the dog.”

I concede, “Sure, kidnap a stranger and her dog and crash my wedding.”

He belly laughs. “You met your girl at a club. Why can’t I meet mine at a Bucee’s? Have you seen this place? It’s crawling with women and snacks.”

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