Page 139 of Moms of Mayhem
Beckett skated right up to the glass, braced one glove on the boards, then he pointed to my chest, and mouthed,Turn around.
I shook my head, cheeks heating. He mouthed it again, slower, one brow raised:Turn. Around.
“Do it, Emmy!” Molly yelled. “Let him see!”
“She’s blushing!” Delgado cackled.
“Don’t faint, Mom,” Jace added, clearly delighted.
Groaning, I turned around and spread my arms so he could get a full view of the jacket, peeking over my shoulder to watch his reaction.
He nodded, smiling like a smug bastard, and tapped his chest right over his heart.
Ty chuckled. “Well, that was subtle.”
I turned back around, heart hammering, trying and failing not to grin.
Beckett skated off to resume warmups, and I turned to watch the kids enjoy themselves.
Above us, I spotted Shannon, Tate, Mason, and Lori already settled in the suite. Shannon waved her phone in the air like she was recording everything. Tate looked like she was trying not to smile. Mason blew me a kiss and immediately turned to Tate, saying something that made her roll her eyes.
“Ten bucks says he just told her if the Yeti win, he’s proposing on the Jumbotron,” Jace said.
“If the Yeti win, I’ll propose to Molly on the Jumbotron too,” Delgado said.
She shoved him hard in the chest, sending him reeling backward over the row of chairs, and I snorted a laugh.
“Hey,” Ty said beside me. “You okay?”
I looked up at my brother. At his warm eyes, his steady presence, the way he’d carried me through every broken moment over the last year without asking for anything in return.
Then I looked back at the ice. At Beckett, still watching us between drills like we were his entire world.
I took a shaky breath.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m okay.”
Ty raised a brow. Waited.
I smiled. “This is it, isn’t it? This is forever.”
He didn’t say anything for a second. Just nodded, clapped a hand to the back of my neck, and pulled me in for a quick hug.
“I know,” he said, like he’d known it all along.
The buzzer sounded for warmups to end, and Beckett gave us one last grin before skating off toward the tunnel, tapping his stick to the glass again on the way.
Ty rounded up the kids, steering them toward the neareststairwell. “Let’s go find our seats. We’ve got a championship to win.”
I followed after them, walking toward my seat in a jacket with Beckett’s name on it, surrounded by the best people I’d ever known, in the place where I’d found everything I didn’t even know I needed.
Two hours later, the Yeti did it.
Stanley Cup champions.
Beckett scored two goals—one of them the game-winner—and I was still trying to remember how to breathe.
Logan played like he was powered by spite, chirping the entire opposing bench and still managing to log two assists and a breakaway goal that sent the arena into a frenzy.
