“Hold on, let mecheck the address,” he said, glancing at his phone. Hard to do from the back ofa bike.
“Oh my god,” Ibreathed out. “Are we going to Rondan’s?”
Rondan’s was theclub’s go-to jeweler. Olen Rondan was a man in his fifties who had been takingcare of engagements, anniversaries, birthdays, and ‘I’m sorries,’ for as longas I could remember, which meant if we were going there, I was getting anengagement ring.
He grimaced.“Yeah. I wanted it to be a surprise, but my directional incompetence appears tohave blown my cover.”
I patted hischest, then pointed to the left. “Turn here.”
I continued todirect him until we pulled around the back of the store and parked.
We climbed offhis bike (he’d purchased the one my dad had been restoring) and once we’dremoved our helmets, he took my hands. “I called and had him pull a fewoptions, but if you don’t like any of them, I want you to tell me.”
“I will.”
“Promise?” hepressed.
I nodded. “Ipromise.”
“Okay.”
We made our wayaround the corner and into the beautiful store with ridiculous amounts ofbling, and Olen was already waiting for us, four rings ready for my approval.An oval, a princess, a pear, and the classic round. All of them at leasttwo-carats, and all of them stunning.
“Oh my god,Huck,” I breathed out. “Are you kidding me? How am I going to choose?”
Olen chuckled,handing me the two-carat oval cut to try first.
We stayed foralmost an hour, but in the end, it was the oval that made my heart sing andsince Huck had prepaid for all four rings to be sized so I could walk out withwhichever one I chose, I didn’t have to wait to wear it home.
“Club?” Huckasked once we were back at the bike.
“Surpriseengagement party?” I deduced.
He laughed. “Notmuch of a surprise now.”
I clapped myhands. “Let’s go.”
We climbed backon the bike and headed into Beaverton.
As we walkedinto the club and heard, “Surprise!” yelled by our family and friends, Icouldn’t help myself from wrapping myself tight around Huck.
This man, thisbeautiful man, who’d rescued me from a pair of pants that were trying tostrangle me to death, continued to rescue me at every turn.
His name mightbe Ruin, but he was my salvation.
Daisy
Eighteenmonths (ish) later…
“HUCK THE PUCK is back, folks, andhe and Cherkowsky have once again led this team through an extraordinary season!”the announcer bellowed.“Ladies and gentleman, your Stanley Cup winners, theCarolina Hurricanes.”
I jumped up frommy place in the stands and screamed his name, my family right next to me doingthe same. My mom pulled me in for a hug and we jumped up and down as wecontinued to celebrate.
This was it, hehad done what he’d set out to do and I was so proud of him. His surgery hadgone perfectly, and just as he said, he’d exceeded everyone’s expectations withhis recovery. His parents had flown out and we’d gotten married in a smallceremony at the club, then we’d moved to Raleigh and into a little condo closeto the arena where Huck trained.
I missed myfamily like crazy, but luckily, we weren’t far from the Dogs of Fire Savannahchapter, so we would ride down there every chance we got, and I found my familythere on more than one occasion to surprise us.
Huck had gottenoffers from other teams to play once his rookie contract was up with theHurricanes, and of course, the Hurricanes planned to renew his contract thesecond this one was done. But Huck had been having a bit of a crisis of faith,if you will.
