“Obviously,” she says, not even pretending to deny it.
The puck drops and Jensen wins the draw against Jayce, spinning and passing it off to Zander on the right. Zander takes off down the ice, the wind catching his breath in quick bursts. Rylee cheers, cupping her hands around her mouth.
“Go, baby, go!”
Wilder intercepts, and Rylee groans.
“Get it back, Zander! Come on!” she orders, like an over-eager coach shouting from the sidelines. Zander shoots her a thumbs-up, appearing more than willing to do as she tells him.
Wilder shoots the puck to Jensen, who darts forward again, stick handled with that focused, determined energy I’ve seen a thousand times before. He feints right, then left, slipping past Owen, who throws him a mock glare over his shoulder, and fires the puck toward the goal. Carson blocks it with the flat of his stick, sending it spinning off to the side.
“Nice save!” Skyler yells, then adds under her breath, “Even if he’s going to whine about his hand later.”
Snowflakes start to drift down, lazy and soft, catching in the guys’ hair and beards, dusting their shoulders. None of them seem to notice. They’re lost in the game, chasing the puck, shouting orders and insults, laughing like they’re twelve years old.
Jensen scores next — a clean shot that slides right under Carson’s stick. He throws his arms up, turning toward me with that triumphant, boyish grin.
“Show-off!” I call out.
He winks. “You love it!”
Damn it, I do. I love everything about him, and the life we’ve built together. Being here with our friends, enjoying this beautiful day, happy and carefree…
Skyler sighs and shakes her head before adjusting her glasses. “Carson’s taking this way too seriously for a pond game.”
I chuckle and bump her with my shoulder. “He made a pregame speech, Sky. There were hand gestures.”
“He also haswar paint.” Sutton points out. “Out of cocoa powder.”
Dropping her chin in her hands, Skyler gazes out at Carson with a goofy little grin. “Yeah, he’s lucky he’s cute.”
Carson catches the puck, then winces and shakes his hand, clearly having forgotten he didn’t bring the right gloves.
Stacey waves her finger in Owen’s direction. “Owen’s doing that thing where he pretends he’s not competitive, but he’s absolutely trying to body Jensen.”
I let out a snort, watching the two men jostle each other a bit. “Please. Jensen’s been captain since college. He’s reading the ice like a chessboard.”
“Meanwhile, my goalie just yelled ‘You shall not pass’ at the puck.” Skyler leans back and laughs.
“Well…” Sutton shrugs. The wind picks up her hair and I spot that flash of teal. “It worked.”
Rylee flips her long hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms and tilts her head as Zander zooms by, saluting her. “Zander looks like he’s one bad turn away from eating the ice. Serves him right after he had me check several times last night for frostbite on his balls. If he falls, I’m naming the baby Karma.”
Stacey chuckles. “If Owen pulls a hamstring, I’m naming ours Patience.”
“Those are both great names for what you’ll need in motherhood,” I say.
Skyler snorts. “Or therapy.”
The guys let out a cheer and share high fives, looking like they’re having the time of their lives.
Rylee smiles softly. “I like seeing them like this. Stupid, but happy.”
Stacey’s gaze is tender as she absently rubs her hands over her belly. “Yeah. Like puppies who think they’re wolves.”
Carson tries to block a slapshot, but without boards, the puck sails into the snowbank and disappears.
Skyler sighs. “And that’s gone forever. Congratulations, nature wins.”
