“Uh-huh.”
“Okay.” I let her go and turn around. “See you later, then.”
She runs back to the house and I close the door, heading inside to sit on the big chair as tears run down my face. I set the drawing down beside me and bury my face in my hands, sobbing.
How can I choose anything but this and them?
A weight drops onto my lap, warm and fluffy, and I go very still.
Phoebe the psycho cat curls up in my lap with a begrudging look before she tucks her head into herself and starts purring.
CHAPTER 79
TATE
“Good evening,”I say to the team that night in the dressing room. A determined, anticipating energy vibrates in the room. “You’ve worked hard, you know what you need to focus on, so I’ll keep this short.”
My gaze drifts to Miller in his suit, who’s still healing but insisted on being beside Volkov and me on the bench tonight to show support and leadership for the team, and Jordan, leaning against the far wall, listening with a focused look in her eyes. Her mouth tips up a tiny bit and she gives me a slight nod.
She’s been quiet all afternoon. Thinking about tonight, I’m sure. The first game in the series sets the tone. A win can boost the team’s confidence, and a loss can decimate it.
“In my heart, I believe this is the best team in the league. Remember what Walker said.” I glance to the Rookie, shifting his weight from skate to skate to stay warm and maybe burn off some of his nervous energy. “This team is a family. Your teammates have your back, and you have theirs. Remember why we do this—because we love this game.”
Their eyes are locked on me, determination in their gazes. The energy rises in the room.
“Remember how it feels to make our city proud.” A few of them nod. “How good it feels to win.”
Fucking A,someone murmurs and I smile. Miller whistles, and a few guys whoop.
I know it’s about love of the game and the journey, but I really, really want these guys to win. Winning the Cup would change their whole lives.
“Alright,” I tell them, “let’s show them a good time.”
The guys break into applause, hollers, and whistles before they shuffle out the door and onto the ice. When I turn around, Jordan’s already gone from the dressing room.
In the arena, the fans buzz with energy, a sea of Storm jerseys surrounding the ice. A few rows back, someone holds a sign readingIn Ward We Trust.
The whistle blows, and the game begins. The guys play with renewed determination, competition, and life, all remnants of the previous losing streak washed away by Jordan’s scavenger hunt and lineup changes.
My eyes cut to the owner’s box, where she’s watching the game tonight, standing beside Ross. Every time the camera pans to them, the crowd cheers.
We need more photos of Jordan,our social media team told me.The fans love her.
Behind the net, Georgia, Hazel, Pippa, and Darcy sit, wearing their jerseys, cheering the guys on. Ten minutes into the first period, Owens gets the puck on a breakaway. The fans rise to their feet as he approaches the other team’s net, the entire arena holding their breath. He snaps the puck at the goal—and it goes in.
Sound errupts in the arena, the fans banging their fists against the glass and jumping up and down. The goal horn blows, lightsflash, and the guys on the ice surround Owens while the players on the bench cheer and tap their sticks against the boards.
Owens points at his new wife behind the net with a big smile, and her face flashes across the jumbotron’s screen. He blows her a kiss and she beams.
The camera cuts to the owner’s box, and Jordan’s applauding, smiling ear to ear.
From there, the Vancouver Storm wins four playoff games in a row and move on to the second round.
CHAPTER 80
TATE
One afternoon the next week,Bea and I are working on our garden when Jordan bursts out of the guesthouse.
