Page 67 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

“Are you certain you’re not jumping into this too soon?” he asked me last week.

“No. Not at all. I’m not certain of anything,” I replied. “But then”—and I softened my tone—“Mom and Dad probably had no doubts that they were coming back from vacation still breathing and not in coffins, Thomas. If anything, we know more than most that life’s too short for certainty.”

My brother looked at me for a long moment, and with a light shrug, he smiled and nodded. “You’re right.” He then smirked. “You know, you’re smarter than you look.”

We both broke into chuckles then, and Thomas wrapped his arms around me. It wasn’t the first hug I’d had from him since the whole newspaper debacle, and no doubt, it won’t be the last.

Now, though, the day before Christmas, I’m standing in the freezing cold gardens of the estate. Behind me, wrapped up to the nines and sitting in rows of beautifully decorated chairs, are the vast population of Maple Springs, my teammates, and Emma’s family. Beside me stand my two best men, Steve and John, and in front of me stands Father Phillips, our small town’s local priest.

When the music starts, I hear everyone behind me standing while Steve and John beam huge grins in my direction. My stomach is in knots, my heart pounds in my chest, and I wait in anticipation for Emma to finally stand by my side.

It feels like forever, but eventually, she’s here, her arm linked with Jimmy’s, who agreed to give her away.

I swallow hard as I look down at her. That beautiful red hair is fixed intricately on her head, long tendrils framing her face. Draped around her shoulders is a fur shawl, and beneath it, a stunning white dress with more detail than I can take in right now. But I don’t care about the dress, I’m too busy gazing at her adoringly. Her face is glowing as she gazes back, and taking a step towards me, we face Father Phillips as he tells everyone to be seated.

When it’s all over, I bend and kiss her tenderly.

“I love you, Emma Steele,” I breathe.

“I love you right back,” she whispers.

There’s a huge marquee tent set up close to the frozen lake, and after photographs, everyone makes their way inside. Tall metal cages with blazing fires are positioned strategically to keep the guests warm, string lights hang from the ceiling, beautifully decorated tables and chairs sit on a hard-wearing carpet that’s been laid over the cleared grass beneath, and a stage is set up on the far end.

Guests are helping themselves to drinks when Phil moves to my side. “So, no big fancy wedding, then?” he says with a broad grin.

“We didn’t want that.”

“I know,” he says. “And I’m glad.” He sweeps his head across the room. “This is far better.”

“Any trouble spinning it?” I ask.

Phil looks almost insulted. “Are you kidding me? I spun a yarn about the town being disappointed that they hadn’t been able to share in your wedding celebrations, and so, you and Emma decided to do it all again for their benefit.”

I smirk. “Which is exactly what the rest of the town thinks. And what about the other thing?”

“I’m on it.” Phil nods. “The papers are being drafted, and she’s being served next month.”

“And what are you boys whispering about?” Emma says, sneaking in between the two of us from behind.

Phil looks caught out, pins on a smile, wraps his arm around her shoulder, and kisses her on the cheek. “Hello, beautiful. You look sensational.”

“Hey, easy there, tiger,” I warn playfully.

Phil grins back at me.

“He’s very protective,” Emma says, looking almost sorry for me.

“Yes, I can see that.”

Phil has already started proceedings against Megan. I will tell Emma, but not yet. I want her to enjoy our wedding and then relax on our honeymoon without that kind of thing flying around her head.

We’re ushered to the front when it’s time to cut the cake. The top decoration has already evoked a few laughs. It depicts Emma whacking me over the head with a hockey stick. Very cute!

“Your idea?” I say as we stand close together, holding the knife for the photographs.

She shrugs nonchalantly. “I thought it was fitting.” And then she giggles, that beautiful sound trickling from her lips that always makes my heart lurch. But I have a little surprise of my own for her later, and I can’t wait.

There’s a kerfuffle at the other end of the tent, and what starts off as one person yelling turns into a great rumble of noise. Emma and I hurry toward the entrance, wondering what on Earth is going on.

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