“I am?” she started and then squinted at him. “About what?”
“This marriage, while it started out fake and a lie, it’s going to be what we make of it… and I’d like for us to get along. You mentioned friendship, affection, and a bunch of other stuff – and I think I’m in,” he finished nervously, looking at her.
Her mouth dropped open.
“I’m not going to say it’s love,” he blurted out in the gentlest way possible, giving a slight shake to his head as he held her gaze. “We’re strangers, and I’ve never believed in love at first sight or things like that – but I’m also not a fool.”
“What does that mean?” she whispered breathlessly, her heart slamming in her chest. He put his plate down on the table in front of the couch smoothly. Fear, anxiety, excitement, adrenaline… all of it was thrumming within her at his words and the wisp of hope his words were creating in her soul.
“I believe in something greater, in miracles, that sometimes you’re led down a road in order to find where you’re meant to be… and I think we can make this marriage into something we both enjoy,” he paused – and then reached for her hand while the other dug behind him. “And at the end of the season, if you decide you need something more or you’re done with me, then so be it… But until then – you’re my bride.”
He pulled out a tiny box, staring at her as she had a silent meltdown before him. In fact, she was shaking so badly that shehad to put her pizza down on the sofa table nearby, or it was gonna fall onto the carpet. As he slid to one knee beside her, she sucked in her breath hard enough to make a snorting sound that broke the moment.
Marcus chuckled – and she grimaced before giving him a sheepish smile.
“Nerves and excitement,” she volunteered helplessly.
“I figured,” he smirked – and then opened the box to pull out a simple diamond cocktail ring that had a cluster of stones in a particular pattern that glistened beautifully. “It’s a snowflake,” he offered gently as he slid it onto her trembling finger. “I thought it was fitting since it’s almost Christmastime.”
“Oh, Marcus…” she began tearfully, her heart slamming wildly in awareness of how sweet this was and how much it meant to her. “It’s gorgeous,” she breathed and looked up to see him watching her, waiting. “This is… I’m so… this is perfect,” she finished, only to feel him tug her hand gently, pulling her to him slightly.
“Is this okay?” he whispered just before his lips brushed hers with such tenderness that she melted. “I keep seeing your eyes every time I close my eyes – and I really like the way you look at me, Harper. I want the next few months to be the start of something beautiful, something neither of us expected… and I’m here,” he swallowed, waiting. “I’m here. I’m here for all the whispers good night you need, the good morning kisses, and I’ll be that partner in this marriage, if we want to give whatever this is a shot… together.”
That nervous snort she made earlier was followed by a whimper of longing she couldn’t hold back as she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes mixed with awareness. He was offering himself up as her husband – not on paper like originally planned, but as a spouse for the next few months, almost like a test drive. He was going to give this his all, and she couldn’t behappier at his words. No, it was everything she could have ever wished for and everything she could have dreamed about. She took her hand from his, where he’d just slipped the ring on her finger, and immediately curled her arms around his shoulders, moving to kiss him fully.
“It’s more than okay,” she admitted as he broke the kiss a few minutes later, holding her just as tightly. They were both breathing like they’d run a race – hand in hand… and maybe this was the start of one. A new path, an unknown step forward on a trail neither expected but couldn’t wait to explore. “It’s a miracle – our very own Christmas miracle…”
“I like that,” he murmured, moving to kiss her again. “Our very own Christmas miracle… indeed.”
8
MARCUS
“It’s the blue fur,wasn’t it…?” Kenneth Salas joked as he whizzed past him with the puck.
“Yo… our boy has a Muppets fetish,” Barrett Coeur drew out slowly, followed by a whistle. “Unbelievable.”
“Our boy is bangin’ the mascot – and she’s super hot - but don’t tell Karen I said that,” Jett Acton hollered across the ice, giving him two thumbs-up as he dropped his gloves and stick wildly. Marcus expected laughter, a few jabs, or to become the butt of their jokes, but instead, the opposite happened.
The jokes were suddenly over.
The air was cleared.
Every player on the team stopped skating as the coach stood there, smiling. Gloves dropped. Sticks clattered to the ice. The puck slowed to a crawl. The guys who weren’t on the ice slowly joined the rest of the team as a slow clap began among them, led by Acton, Boucher, and Savage standing near where Marcus stood, stunned.
“You knew…” Marcus breathed in awareness. “You all knew and didn’t say a thing?”
“It came up in a meeting,” Savage admitted quietly. “I told Coach Starnes you were worth keeping regardless of it – and he agreed.”
“But… but…”
“But now you fit right in, homeboy,” Jett exclaimed, holding up his own hand, brandishing his own golden band. “I never thought you had it in you, but when you walked in here all giggly and glowing – I said to myself,‘Self, that is a happily married man who got some’– and I’m so freakin’ proud of you for bangin’ our mascot, Good-Boy…”
“We’re not naming the mascot that, Jett,” Coach Starnes interrupted as several players began laughing and patting Marcus on the back. “You know the official name is ‘Henri the Wolverine’.”
“Henri is a dumb name – a weak, wimpy, French name,” Jett argued. “He needs a tough name…”
“Like ‘Good-Boy’?” Salas said in a flat voice, raising an eyebrow.
