Then we kiss and nearly skip down the aisle.
I lean my head against Connor’s as he turns his phone off and the room is silent.
“That was…” he begins.
My eyes widen and my lips curl in as I’m struggling to come up with words. “Kind of a trainwreck.”
He kisses the top of my head as he nudges my arm. “We’re not watching that ever again, are we?” Connor seems to be on my wavelength.
“I don’t think so, unless we’re playing naked tequila.”
We both let a laugh escape.
“You were totally into it, though,” he points out.
I gasp at his accusation. “You were the one leading us. It was completely you pushing that wedding,” I lie and try to control my grin.
“Who the fuck cares how it got us there. We’re married and where we’re meant to be.”
Our eyes lock in a sentimental gaze. “So we are.”
“We get a redo today.”
I gently shake my head. “Thank the heavens for that. I have a feeling this wedding is the one that I’ll always want to remember.”
“No Elvis in sight,” he promises.
I huff a sound. “But we’re getting Briggs instead,” I deadpan, because we don’t actually need someone official since that deed is done, but it’s just as scary as a fake Elvis but equally perfect too.
Standing up off the bed, I smooth my dress, and Connor joins me as he adjusts his tie.
“My wife,” he whispers.
“My husband,” I reply.
We both lean in for one last soft kiss on the lips before Connor walks to the door, and just as he opens it, my father is standing there with his fist up, about to knock.
My dad swims his eyes between us. “Really, you two? Couldn’t just give your parents one traditional element for this wedding?” He is half serious but maybe kind of annoyed.
Connor and I both shrug as my father brushes past Connor then turns to lead my husband out. “The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding. Bye now.”
I try to suppress my laugh and so does Connor.
We only follow our own path and rules.
Always have.
EPILOGUE
HADLEY—A FEW MONTHS LATER
Squeezing my dad’s hand for dear life, I wince when I see my husband scuffling with the winger from the opposite team against the boards. I do my best to return to my neutral face, hence why my dad’s hand is getting ripped off.
I should have stayed up in the wives’ room where nobody would be able to witness my observation of Connor during a game. But I need to feel closer, and it’s kind of, well, exhilarating next to the ice.
That is, until my husband gets the whistle from the ref for cross-checking the other team’s winger, Vaughn Madden. Just great, now I’m going to hear Briggs complaining about this for days, while Connor just takes the high road.
I breathe softly to stay calm. You never have any idea when a camera or fan might catch you.
