Page 91 of Arresting the Hockey Player
Their wedding is outdoors in their backyard. For a billionaire, who could get married anywhere, he chose home. There’s something sweet in its simplicity.
The backyard is gorgeous, with white Christmas lights circling the evergreens. Tiki torches offer enough light for the evening festivities and a tent for guests to dine and dance in after the wedding ceremony. Giant heaters are set up to keep the guests warm since it’s a winter wedding.
A light dusting of snow speckles the ground, falling from the sky, making the air feel even chillier.
Bristol walks down the aisle as their flower girl, and she looks like a little princess. She carefully drops one petal at a time, tossing it and waiting until it lands gracefully before throwing another.
When she reaches the end of the aisle, she tosses the rest of the petals straight into the air and lets them rain down on her.
The girl knows how to make an entrance.
There are a few giggles from the audience, and Kyler glares at her, warning his daughter to behave while he waits for his bride to walk down the aisle.
“Bristol!” Zayn shouts and waves at her as she stands at the front with her father. Noah’s face turns as red as Rudolph's nose. I guess he wasn’t expecting an outburst from his toddler.
Noah sits beside me with Zayn on his lap, bundled with snow bibs over his little suit. Noah had insisted he didn’t want his son to catch a cold since the wedding was outside.
Kyler and Emerson’s wedding is perfection. Their ceremony is short, but their vow exchanges even bring tears to my eyes. It’s clear that they’re madly in love, and I’m happy for them.
After the ceremony, Noah has to hold onto Zayn to keep him from running onto the dance floor and knocking over the cake while we wait for Kyler and Em to cut the cake and then have their first dance.
Zayn is squirmy, and it’s clear that it’s trying Noah’s patience. He’s standing, rocking his son, who has no interest in holding still.
“Can I?” I ask, offering to take Zayn from him.
Zayn wiggles out of Noah’s arms and into mine. “Good luck,” Noah says, but the worried look tells me that he’s not sure I’ll do any better.
“Do you want to take a walk through the garden?” I ask Zayn, carrying him away from the guests.
He seems to settle, and I glance back at Noah, who is keeping a close eye on us. We wander over to the flower beds which are empty this time of year. But there are some beautifully lit trees with white twinkling lights behind them.
It’s enough to capture Zayn’s attention for a few minutes. From the distance, it’s hard to see the cake cutting, but I don’t mind missing it if it means Noah has a few minutes to himself. He’s been trying to hold Zayn since we got to the wedding, and the kid is a minute away from melting down.
Noah’s given him snacks and water. He’s taken him to the bathroom twice. I’m pretty sure the little one wants to run freely, and hopefully, Noah will let him do that when the guests get up to dance.
Away from the commotion and excitement, Zayn rests his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes. I rub my hand over his back as he settles down for a few minutes.
I appreciate the quiet and stillness of the night. Away from the other guests, it’s tranquil and calm.
“Babysitting duty?” Amber jokes as she joins me over near the decorated trees. She’s in a sleeveless dress and wraps her arms around herself, clearly chilly.
I’m wearing a long-sleeved dress with lace trim, designed for winter.
“Trying to keep someone preoccupied until dance time,” I say.
“Or nap time,” Amber adds.
“No nap.” Zayn pops his head up, eyes wide.
“Why is it that kids hate naps, but as adults, I’d kill to have one during the week?” I ask.
Amber shrugs and guesses, “You want what you can’t have?”
Noah clears his throat from behind. I didn’t hear him come up. “What is it that you want but can’t have?” he asks me. His voice drips with lust that sends flutters down south. Heat floods my body, and I’m sure I’m blushing, but maybe Noah will chalk it up to the cold.
We’ve been taking things slow since I stayed over at his house after the game a couple of weeks ago. We platonically shared a bed. Noah slept on his side, me on the opposite side. Sometime during the night, his arm wrapped around my waist, and we cuddled. It was the best feeling to wake up to until Zayn jumped on the bed and proceeded to snuggle between us.
Amber grins and gives us a wave as she heads back under the tent, where it’s warm. “Catch you on the dance floor.”
