Page 68 of Heartfelt Goals

“Then that is all that matters,” she replied tenderly, giving him a soft smile before she curled against him again. “Get some rest; it’s barely five in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her.

15

LAUREL

“Hey,”Dustin called out in a rush, his voice a little breathless as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, already halfway out the door. The urgency in his movements spoke volumes—tonight’s game was important, and tomorrow, they were flying out to Seattle for their first away game of the season. It was a big deal.

He had offered to fly them out there, knowing how much it would mean for Laurel to be there in the stands, cheering for him. But the logistics had felt overwhelming—little privacy, the chaotic rush of the airport, the scramble to get back before the team’s schedule picked up again. In the end, she had decided to stay behind, and he understood. He always understood.

“I put the plates on the cars, and I’ve got to get going,” he said, his tone quick but warm, his love for them stitched into every syllable even as he moved with practiced efficiency. “Do you mind meeting me at the arena?”

“Never,” Laurel replied, smiling softly as he leaned in for a swift kiss, his lips brushing against hers with a familiarity that made her heart squeeze.

Then, without warning, Dustin lunged at Kendall, catching the preteen in a playful tackle. The shriek that left her mouth was half outrage, half delight, and she struggled in his grasp, laughing wildly as she tried to wriggle free.

“And you—” he ruffled Kendall’s hair with exaggerated roughness, his teasing voice warm with affection, “study the moves on the ice. First practice is next month, and Boucher is a tough coach…”

“Are you serious?” Kendall gasped, her eyes widening.

“Do I look serious?” he shot back before contorting his face into an absolutely ridiculous expression—his nose pushed up, one eye pulled down, his tongue sticking out like some kind of deranged cartoon character.

Kendall recoiled in exaggerated horror, turning toward Laurel with a look of pure betrayal. “You boink that? Seriously?”

Laurel bit her lip, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling in her chest. She and Dustin exchanged a knowing glance, the silent understanding between them saying everything.

They had learned over time that Kendall, with all her sharp wit and barbed humor, lashed out the most when she felt insecure. If they didn’t feed into her jabs, if they let them roll off their backs, she softened. Bit by bit, she became more like the child she should have been—playful, happy, and, in rare moments, vulnerable.

Dustin didn’t answer her; he just winked at Laurel, leaned in for another kiss—this one slower, lingering just a second longer than necessary—and whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

“Every chance I get…”

A shiver ran through her, and she flushed, swatting at his chest playfully. “Get out of here and work on your warmups,” she scolded lightly, though the affection in her voice was unmistakable. “I don’t want you getting hurt on the ice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smirked, stepping back toward the door. “See ya, wife…”

“See ya, husband…”

The atmosphere around the kitchen was warm, the kind that settled deep into your bones and made you feel safe, like home. Laurel soaked it in, committing the moment to memory. These little pockets of happiness, of togetherness, were the kind of thing treasured in her relationship with Dustin.

“Y’all are nauseating,” Kendall declared the moment the front door was shut, though the teasing in her voice softened the words. She perched at the table in her oversized hockey jersey, her long braid secured with a flashy blue glitter ribbon that shimmered under the kitchen lights. The ribbon proudly bore the number thirteen—Dustin’s number.

Laurel smiled, glancing at the girl who had grown so much in the past year. “Let’s finish up here and head to the arena,” she suggested, brushing a stray crumb off the counter. “I want to meet up with Constance, Jeannie, Irene, Jamie, and some of the others. It’s so much fun having friends and growing into one big family.”

“I get it,” Kendall said, her grin widening. “It’s like we’re all figuring out how we fit together, and it’s actually a good thing. There’s no egos, no snot-nosed bullies, no prima donnas…” She paused for dramatic effect. “Well, except Ashley. She’s a little uppity and?—”

“Kendall!”

“What?” The girl shrugged unapologetically. “Who cares that her husband is the captain? Not me. He’s just a dude, and she’s just another woman who needs some serious eyeliner. What is with you all and not wearing eyeliner?”

Laurel bit back a laugh. “You don’t wear eyeliner.”

“I’m twelve,” Kendall deadpanned. “I would if I could.”

“Oh?” Laurel hummed knowingly. She stepped toward the sink, bending down to open the cabinet underneath. Hidden behind a row of cleaning supplies—an area Kendall wouldn’t dare investigate—was a small, glossy gift bag. She had tucked it away there days ago, waiting for the right moment. And now, as she pulled it out and turned, she saw Kendall’s sharp hazel eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in stunned silence.

“Are you kidding me?” Kendall’s voice was barely a whisper, her fingers trembling as she reached for the bag.

---