Page 179 of Slapshot Bride

I realize for the first time in a long while that I’m exactly where I want to be with the people I want to be with.

Running away wasn’t the end of the world. It was only the beginning of something beautiful.

Epilogue - RILEY

My Favorite Getaway Driver

Afew months later

Quinn had to bribe two people to get me out of the house today.

Easton first, by promising she’d drive, that she wouldn’t let me carry a single bag, and that she’d have me home by three. Then me, because I’ve reached the stage of this pregnancy where leaving the couch feels like a negotiation, and my ankles stage a protest every time I spend more than twenty minutes on my feet.

And yet, here we are. I’m eight months pregnant, sporting a bump so big I haven’t seen my feet in weeks, and the back seat of Quinn’s car is already full of tiny clothes.

“This one,” Quinn says, holding up a onesie the size of my hand with a little embroidered bear on the front. “Non-negotiable. I’m buying it.”

I shake my head. “Whatever you think is good, Quinn. I’m past negotiating with you.”

“Good. You’re a fast learner.” She winks at me.

I shake my head again and lean against the nearest wall, because even standing still has somehow become an athletic event.

She’s been like this all afternoon, overly enthusiastic and determined to keep herself busy by throwing everything she has into helping me shop for baby clothes. I’ve known her long enough by now, though, to recognize when something is bothering her.

I don’t ask because I’ve learned that about Quinn too. She’ll tell me when she’s ready, and pushing only makes her more secretive, so for now I’ll be the friend she needs and let her get there in her own time.

By the time we’re done, my feet ache, my bladder has been used as a trampoline for the past hour, and I’m hungry enough that I’m seriously considering eating one of the protein bars at the register before I’ve paid for it.

“Quinn, you promised to feed me, and you’re running late.” I glare at her.

She laughs. “Come on. I saw a café around the corner. Let’s have lunch, and I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

She takes my hand, and I follow her lead like an obedient toddler who has been promised snacks.

We get a table toward the back, away from the windows, and I order enough food for three people because apparently growing a human has turned my stomach into a bottomless pit.

Our food has barely arrived when the café door opens, and I glance up automatically.

Wyatt walks in.

Huh. What is he doing here?

He steps inside, looks around, and his eyes land on our table almost immediately. He lifts a hand in greeting before heading over.

“Well, look who it is.”

“Wyatt,” I say.

“Riley.” His gaze drops to my stomach. “Still pregnant, I see.”

“How charming of you to notice.”

“That’s why the ladies love me.”

Quinn snorts beside me, and Wyatt looks at her.

Something about his expression changes, although it’s so subtle I almost wonder if I imagined it. There’s just the slightest pause before his usual cocky grin slides back into place.