“Well,” she said, with a slight tremble in her voice. “You made it easy.”
They walked downstairs together, then through the living room that was, as of a few weeks ago, full of framed photos of Ilya and Shane together. Shane still felt the urge to hide them in drawers, but he loved seeing them. Loved knowing there was nothing to hide anymore.
When he stepped through the back door, he was stunned all over again by the crowd. There had to be close to a hundred people crammed on the lawn between the house and the river.
He spotted Hayden and Jackie and their kids. Farah and her husband were chatting with Leah and Max. Wyatt Hayes and his wife were laughing with Ryan and Fabian. Troy and Harris were talking to Ilya’s coach—Shane’s coach now—and a woman who was probably Coach Wiebe’s wife. Rose waved to Shane from across the lawn where she was talking to Ilya’s friend Svetlana, who Shane had met for the first time yesterday when the three of them had lunch together. There was a small cluster of Centaurs players who were surreptitiously staring at Rose. There were, in fact, alotof Centaurs players.
The only Montreal player there, besides Hayden, was J.J., and Shane felt a little choked up just seeing him. Their friendship was back on solid ground, but it still meant a lot to Shane for J.J. to be here.
Then, Shane found Ilya in the crowd, talking to Zane Boodram. He looked incredible, of course, in his burgundy suit. Anya was at his feet, freshly groomed and wearing a burgundy bow on her head.
Shane wasn’t sure if he was allowed to approach Ilya. This whole thing was very loose; there weren’t even chairs.
Ilya turned, and their gazes met. Ilya gave him one of his easy, sexy smiles, and Shane felt like his body was turning to stone.
We’re getting married.
There was a gentle tap on his elbow, and he turned to see the justice of the peace they’d hired to perform the ceremony. “Ready?” she asked with a warm smile.
Shane glanced at Ilya again and mouthed,Now?
Ilya nodded.
Shane exhaled. “Yeah. Ready.”
“Do you have the ring?” Shane whispered as they stood across from each other, in front of everyone.
Ilya barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Why? Is it important?”
Shane glowered at him, and the justice of the peace—Nancy—got things started.
She said a bunch of words that were probably very nice, but Ilya was only focused on Shane. He looked so handsome and so happy. It was hard to believe this was the same person Ilya had tried to ignore in a Saskatchewan arena parking lot thirteen years ago.
Except the freckles were the same. The dark, intelligent eyes and long black lashes. The adorable little nose, and the soft, enticing lips. Those were all the same.
The way Ilya’s heart went fucking bananas when he looked at him was the same.
“Ilya?” Nancy said gently.
“Hm? Sorry.” He heard laughter all around him, and he smiled sheepishly.
“You can take out the ring now.”
Right. Yes. Wedding.
He removed the ring from his coat pocket and waited for instruction. They didn’t write their own vows because, well, neither of them was particularly eloquent.
“Please repeat after me,” Nancy said. “I call upon these persons here present...”
Ilya repeated the words, somewhat clumsily. Was his accent worse than usual? He sounded ridiculous.
“To witness that I, Ilya Rozanov...”
Oh, good. She remembered not to use their middle names. Ilya didn’t want any part of his father here today. He repeated the words.
“Do take you, Shane Hollander, to be my lawful wedded husband.”
Okay, maybe they should have written their own vows. These were bleak. Completely stiff and devoid of emotion. Who would ever feel anything from these bland vows?
