“I love you,” he murmured against her skin, his voice so raw it trembled through her. “And I think I’ve always loved you. But I’m ready to get out of here when you are.”
Heat bloomed in her chest, rising to her cheeks as she turned in his arms to face him. Her gaze found his, steady and sure, and she teased softly, “Oh yeah?”
His smile curved into something sinful and sweet. “Yeah. I think I’d like a little alone time with my new bride.”
Her fingers slid up the back of his neck, curling just under the edge of his tuxedo collar. “Please, Cujo,” she teased, her voice husky with affection. “You’ve never brought anything little into this world. Not your attitude, not your presence on the ice, not a single part of you.”
That glint in his eye darkened with desire, but his words carried reverence. “You seem pretty sure of that, wife.”
“I am, husband,” she whispered.
The world spun around them, filled with laughter and music, but Nettie barely noticed. She pressed her cheek to his chest, holding him tight, letting the steady beat of his heart ground her in this breathtaking moment. Their friends surrounded them—Shannon glowing as she danced with Dominic, Gina awkwardly tucked in Justin’s arms for the very first time—but none of it dimmed the intimacy she felt. Everything in her life had shifted, changed, rebuilt itself into something new, something luminous.
Yet as she lifted her gaze to Tate, she realized the truth: this wasn’t change. This was destiny, sliding into place as if it had always been waiting for them.
“No regrets, Cujo,” she breathed, stroking back one stubborn curl from his temple with shaking fingers. “Let’s get out of here.”
His answering grin was molten. “Done, Mrs. Cassidy.”
Without hesitation, he caught her hand, ready to lead her away. But instead of walking her off the floor, Tate bent low, slid an arm under her, and lifted her effortlessly against his chest. Nettie gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders, then melted into him, her heart racing with joy and wonder.
Their eyes met, and in that instant, she saw everything: the spark that would never fade, the love that would outlast time, the blessing they would carry together for the rest of their lives. And as he carried her out of the reception, Nettie knew.
This was forever.
EPILOGUE
“Are you ready?”
Nettie turned—and the world shifted.
Tate was leaning casually in the doorway, dressed in a perfectly cut black suit that clung to him like it had been designed just for him. But it wasn’t the suit that stole her breath. It was the sight of their son cradled effortlessly against his shoulder, Matthew’s tiny body rising and falling with each baby sigh. Something in Nettie’s chest broke open at that sight, and every fiber of her being ached with yearning and love so deep she could hardly contain it.
Every man alive should have to wear a suit with an infant tucked against him,she thought, because there could never be anything more heartbreakingly beautiful. And yet—no one else could compare to Tate. He wasn’t just a man in a suit, he wasn’t just a father. He washers. He was the man who had walked into her life when she least expected it, who had given her more love than she’d ever believed she deserved. And together, they had made this perfect child.
Her gaze softened as she thought back to that morning. When she had peeked into the nursery, Matthew had been asleep, tiny fists curled by his face—and Mulligan, their once-scrawny rescue kitten, was stretched out protectively in the corner of the crib as if standing guard. The image had nearly undone her. That silly cat had adored her growing belly, purring like a heartbeat whenever he lay across her, as though he knew before anyone else that Matthew was coming. And now here they were, a family.
A real family.
Life was good. So good she almost feared blinking, as though it might all disappear someday, fading like a dream.
Tonight was about celebration. They were off to a wedding—a chance to bask in the glow of love with their friends—and afterward, they’d meet the Thierrys at Vinny’s to toast the playoffs. Two years of grit and sacrifice, of blood and bruises on the ice, had finally led here. And through it all, Tate had never once made her feel like she wasn’t part of every victory.
She had left the daycare behind without regret, pouring herself into their home, their family, their future. Something she’d once believed was forever out of reach had been placed into her hands, into her heart. And now, she was living her every wish, her every fantasy.
Nettie’s throat tightened. She couldn’t stop staring at Tate. Her husband. Her lover. Her soulmate. Her forever.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, voice trembling with more than nerves. Her eyes locked with his, and she saw it—the way his gaze darkened, the hunger that simmered beneath his tenderness. She felt it too, like a secret spark flickering between them in the quiet spaces. “I’m ready for everything. And then some.”
Tate’s lips curved into that crooked smile that always unraveled her. “You look so good, Sticks,” he rasped, his voice dipped in huskiness. “If we stayed home right now, do you think they would ever forgive us?”
Nettie laughed, soft and breathless, closing the distance to press her hand against the smooth lapel of his suit. With her other hand, she rubbed Matthew’s tiny, curled bottom where Tate’s large palm cupped him in his little pajamas in the same color as the wedding party’s colors. Her heart swelled.
“No,” she teased, eyes dancing, knowing just how her husband’s mind worked. “You’ll just have to be patient a little while longer. When Matthew’s in bed later though…”
Tate leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Then you’re mine?”
She swallowed hard, the words rising from a place so deep it almost hurt. “I’ve always been yours. From the beginning. Until the end of eternity.” Her gaze softened with a smile. “But you’ll have to share me with a few important people.”
