Page 30 of Taming the Grumpy Hockey Player

“I do,” I say, my voice firm. “Lucy, you’ve changed everything for me. And I’m not just talking about the campaign.”

She bites her lip, her hand tightening around mine. “You’ve changed everything for me too,” she whispers.

And then, without hesitation, I close the distance between us. The kiss is soft but filled with quiet intensity, a promise of everything we’ve built and everything yet to come. The noise of the arena fades into the background, replaced by the steady thrum of my heartbeat and the warmth of her lips against mine.

As the celebration winds down, I walk Lucy to her car, her hand resting lightly on my arm. The cool night air is crisp, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds. The weight of the game, the season, and everything we’ve overcome feels lighter now, replaced by the quiet certainty of what lies ahead.

“Thank you for tonight,” she says softly, her gaze lingering on mine.

“I should be thanking you,” I reply, my voice warm. “But we’re not done yet. There’s still more to figure out.”

She tilts her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Like what?”

I smile, leaning in just enough to brush a stray hair from her cheek. “Like how I’m going to convince you to keep changing my life.”

Her laughter is soft, her eyes bright as she steps closer. “I think you’re doing just fine so far.”

The stars above seem to burn brighter as we part ways, and as I drive home, a single thought settles in my mind. Whatever comes next, I’m ready for it—as long as she’s by my side.

Chapter 22

Lucy

The knock at my door is soft but sure, followed by the telltale thump of an excited tail wagging against wood. I already know who it is before I even reach the door. My heart skips a beat as I swing it open to find Logan standing there, Lewis trotting happily at his side. Logan’s dressed casually in jeans and a flannel shirt, but it’s the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand that steals my breath. Vibrant colors—yellows, purples, and whites—spill from his grasp, as imperfectly perfect as he is.

“Morning,” he says, his voice low and warm. There’s a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that makes me want to step closer.

“Morning,” I reply, my cheeks already warming. “Wildflowers? Did you pick these yourself?”

He shrugs, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe. Thought they’d suit you better than roses.”

I take the bouquet from him, brushing my fingers lightly against his as I do. The flowers smell fresh, earthy, and alive. “Thank you, Logan. They’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” he says softly, his gaze holding mine just long enough to make my pulse race.

Lewis nudges my leg, breaking the moment as he barks once, as if to say, “Don’t forget about me!” I laugh and reach down to scratch behind his ears, grateful for the distraction.

“Come on,” I say, stepping aside to let them in. “Coffee’s on.”

We settle on the porch with steaming mugs, the morning air crisp and filled with the sounds of Pine Harbor slowly waking up. The leaves rustle in the breeze, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the wildflowers resting on the table between us. Lewis sprawls at our feet, his contentment mirroring the quiet ease that’s settled over us.

Logan takes a sip of his coffee, his gaze drifting over the yard before landing back on me. “I’ve been thinking about what’s next,” he starts, his tone careful but steady.

“Oh?” I prompt, my heart fluttering at the way his brow furrows in thought.

“For the campaign, for the team, for me.” He pauses, his eyes searching mine. “For us.”

The words hang between us, and I feel their weight, their promise. “What are you thinking?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He sets his mug down, leaning forward slightly. “I want to stay here, Lucy. Pine Harbor feels like home now, and it’s not just because of the team or the campaign. It’s because of you.”

My breath catches. “Logan…”

“Let me finish,” he says, his voice steady, a small, tender smile curving his lips. “You’ve shown me what it means to be part of something real—something worth fighting for. You make this place feel like home, Lucy. I want to build a future here, with you at the center of it all. If you’ll let me.”

Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back, not wanting to miss a second of the sincerity etched into his face. “Of course,” I manage, my voice thick with emotion. “I’d be crazy not to.”

His grin is boyish and unguarded, and it makes my heart ache in the best way. “Good,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Because I’ve got some plans I want to share with you later. But first, there’s something I need to do.”

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