Page 56 of Pucks, Lies, and Sticktape

She was waiting for him.

The moment their eyes met, the world shrank. The noise dulled to a hum, the burn in his muscles faded, and suddenly, all that mattered was the way she was beaming at him, like he’d hung the stars just for her.

He opened his mouth, ready to warn her off—he must havereeked, sweat-drenched, and still thrumming with adrenaline—but before he could get a word out, she surged forward,cupped his face, and kissed him.

Heat exploded in his chest.

Her lips pressed against his, warm, eager, unbothered by the stench of sweat or the salty sting of his damp skin. A growl rumbled low in his throat, an exhale of pure need, and for a second—just a second—he forgot where they were. Forgot theywere surrounded by his team, forgot the crowd still watching, forgot everything except the woman in his arms.

She pulled back, her fingers tracing the sharp edge of his jaw, her eyes full of something that made his heart stutter.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, voice full ofawe, ofadoration, of somethingsacred.

His stomach flipped.

“You are amonsteron the ice…”

He let out a breathless chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as heat crawled up his face.Dannnng. That did something to him—being praised like that by the hottest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. And she wasn’t just his girlfriend, wasn’t some passing fling.

She washis.

His wife. His forever. The woman he got to go home to, climb into bed with, and worship until neither of them could think straight.

“I love you, babe,” he murmured, grinning like a fool, completely undone by her. A chorus of catcalls and whistles erupted around them as hands ruffled his damp hair, jostling him like a pack of rowdy brothers who lived to embarrass him.

He barely had time to react before he saw it—a single droplet of sweat sliding from his hair and landing right on her glasses.

Jeannie flinched, blinking fast before wrinkling her nose, and he barely held in a laugh as he turned, throwing a glare over his shoulder at the guilty culprits.

“Knock it off, guys,” he hollered, wrapping an arm around Jeannie’s waist, tugging her in protectively. “You’re spraying sweat on my bride.”

That earned him another round of jeers, a few suggestive winks, and at least one muttered ‘whupped’from somewhere behind him.

He didn’t care.

He’d take every jab, every taunt, every ounce of teasing if it meant getting to hold her like this. Because in the end, the game, the sweat, the exhaustion—none of it mattered.

Jeannie did.

That madeevery secondof tonight worth it.

And the night wasn’t over.

12

JEANNIE

Jeannie was waitingin the cramped family room, realizing just how well the Wolverines were taking care of them back home. This room had a card table set up in there for them, two couches, a television in the corner, and they brought in their own meals as one of the security guards walked in with totes of Chik-Fil-A for them to eat while they were waiting. A vending machine that had seen better days was waiting in the corner with one of the bulbs burned out within.

“Man, that was exciting,” Katie, Matthieu’s innocent looking younger sister gushed in almost manic joy. “Did you see them? That puck was crazy fast, and that one dudespit bloodon the ice…”

Several of them flinched, and Jeannie knew they were all thinking the same thing –‘Thank God it wasn’t my husband’…

“Yeah, hockey is a rough game.”

“Are you still gonna love my brother when he loses a tooth like that dude tonight?”

The question was so far out of left field that she couldn’t help but laugh as she exchanged a glance with the girl who was too young to understand.

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