“It’s no big deal.”
I grin. Itisa big deal. It’s always a big deal, but he does it anyway.
And it only makes me love him more.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Oh, darlin’,” he says, grabbing my waist and tugging me closer. “I’m nothing compared to you, and I plan to spend the rest of my days telling you so.” He rubs his nose against mine. “I love you, Odette Chambers.”
“And I love you too.”
The curse tickles the back of my mind, but I push it away. I’m done letting it run my life. I want to live. I want to be happy like Iam now. I want late nights of watching cheesy TV shows. I want Pork and Beans to have parents who adore them. I want skating lessons, to drink cider, and to help keep this farm in line. I want Tootsie waking me up at dawn.
And I want it all with Noah Stevens.
Epilogue
Noah
“Wheels, wheels, wheels!”
The young skaters pick up the pace, rushing down the ice toward the net, and I grin.
Fuck, I love this. The second I strapped my skates on for our first training session at Stick Taps Community Iceplex six months ago, I knew I had made the right decision. The year Ezra and I spent trying to sort out layouts, choose paint colors, hire employees, and everything else that came with building the rink was all worth it.
The cidery is thriving, the farm booked for weddings for the next two years. Ezra was quite pleased by that, which was a bit weird to witness. Then again, he’s been a little more chipper lately, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it yet.
“You’re doing great, Carlson!” I call to the goalie who has just let a goal in. I skate over to him, stopping short of where he’s sitting on his knees, head bent. “Just need to get your glove up a bit higher.” I grab it, lifting it to where it needs to be. “There. Just like that.”
“Thanks, Coach,” he says, then drops into his stretches.
I skate back to center ice. This is the six-to-eight group, so the kids look comically small next to me as they wait for me to drop the puck.
I let it fall, and each player scrambles to get possession. And by that, I mean they fall face-first on the ice.
It’s hilarious, but I love how fiercely they’re fighting.
I watch their play as they run all around the rink. We do this over and over until we call it a game.
Carlson skates up to me. “Thanks for the advice on my glove. I think we won because of that.”
“You won because of you. Not me.” I tap his helmet. “I’ll see you next practice, kid.”
He waves at me, then skates off to the dressing room to change out of his gear.
I pick up the discarded pucks and grab the nets, moving them over to the side to make way for the free skate we’re holding later this afternoon.
That’s when I see her.
A smile forms on my lips instantly, and I skate over to the boards, stopping before her.
“Odie.”
She giggles. “Noah.”
I lean over, giving her a quick kiss because I don’t feel like hearing a round of “ewws” from the kids still straggling behind.
“What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just thought you were coming by later.”
