Page 289 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“Most definitely,” he assures me with the biggest grin while his hand reaches for mine. He lifts it up, admiring the gold ring with rainbow diamonds that sparkle perfectly in the ray of the sunset glow coming from the miniature window.

“You’re going to have to get used to it now.”

“You think because you had the guts to put a ring on it, you can torment me about wanting a king-size bed in my attic?”

“You’re about to walk down the aisle, telling the world that you will tolerate Maddox O’Riley Wilson as your wedded husband and accept all the suffering he’ll put you through.”

“One of my wedded husbands,” I acknowledge. “And only if they agree to plague me with such a miserable future.”

He laughs and shrugs.

“I’ll get them to agree.”

“You know that’s a losing game right there.”

“How so?” he inquires. “Damien would pick my side. He loves authoritative me.”

“Ace loves me more and hates to see me shed a single tear, so he’d be on my side.”

“Which leaves Wolfgang.”

“You know who he’d choose, so don’t bother trying to argue with me.”

“Hmph.” He thinks about it. “I’ll see for myself.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“Your guardian angel is shaking his head in dismay.”

“Probably tired of my bullshit.”

We laugh at that before he lowers my hand so he can kiss on top of the engagement ring.

“We gotta find three more that will match this.”

“If you believe I’m wearing four rings on my finger, I’m shooting down the idea,” I laugh.

“Why not?” Maddox suggests. “We can make a whole damn thing about it. For the next six months, the players of Strattonville Vipers publicly devote their love to the love of their life, Mikayla Cross Johnson! Watch the new trending series as love further blossoms into a pucking arrangement, one ring at a time.”

“You should have gone into broadcasting,” I conclude with a silly smile on my face. “Clearly, hockey is the wrong profession.”

“You wish it was.” Laughing, he scoops me into his arms to tickle me.

I’m laughing hysterically as he snuggles against me before I’m in his arms, and we’re both staring at the ceiling.

“So, five months until game day,” Maddox whispers.

“Nervous?”

“A little,” he whispers. “But I’m ready for what’s ahead. For this new season to flourish.”

“A new era,” I whisper. “I like that.”

“Before we go home… wanna pass by the cemetery?”

“Sure,” I approve. “I ordered three sets of flowers, so we can pick them up before we go. They should be ready.”

“We think alike,” he whispers and kisses my temple.

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