Page 151 of Meant for Mayhem

She glanced at me, and I gave her a small nod when they shook hands. “That sounds lovely.”

“You can meet the rest of our family,” Dad said. “See where Mikko grew up.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.”

Dad went to pull his hand back, but Shannon tightened her grip. “If you hurt him again, you should know I can hold a grudge for far longer than you’d ever believe.”

“Shannon,” I murmured.

She dropped his hand, batting her dark eyelashes at me. “We don’t lie, right, Mikko?”

Dad looked at me, then at my mom, his gaze lit with amusement. “She’ll fit right in, it seems.”

“I like her,” Mom said.

I wrapped an arm around my wife’s shoulders, tugging her into my chest and kissing her temple. “Me too.”

From across the room, Logan shouted, “Family therapy is great, but some of us have a hockey game to play.”

I turned toward him. “Why are you still here?”

He finished off a Gatorade, then jabbed a thumb toward the door. “Waiting for you, bud.”

I kissed Mom’s cheek, then Leena’s. Shannon slid her arms around my neck and kissed me while the Mayhem kids made gagging noises behind us.

“Play nice,” she murmured against my mouth. “Don’t score any goals.”

“No.”

“Good answer.”

By the time I stepped onto the ice for warmups, the arena was full. The lights flashed across the stands while music shook the glass. I took my usual route around the outside, letting my edges bite into the ice before looking up at the suite.

Smash had both hands cupped around his mouth, already trying to shout loud enough for me to hear. Molly shoved him out of the way so she could wave. Jace held up a sign they’d drawn with Bigfoot on one side and Silent Giant written on the other. Mom sat near the glass with Leena in her lap, Dad behind them. Shannon was in the middle of everyone, smiling back at me.

At the beginning of the season, I’d searched the stands for someone who wasn’t there. Now, when I looked up, my whole life was waiting for me.

And when the puck dropped, I was ready.

EPILOGUE

Last weekend, the Yeti were eliminated from the playoffs. The season was over, and officially, this was the end of Mikko’s and my arrangement.

Nine months.

One hockey season.

I’d finished my fellowship and helped Mikko balance his career and fatherhood.

Everything we’d set out to do was finished, and the deal was done. But instead of filing for divorce, I stood in the master bedroom of our new house wearing a black jumpsuit, ready to marry my husband for the second time.

“Stop moving,” Lori said from behind me. “I can’t zip this thing when you keep fidgeting.”

“I’m not moving.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. This is more vibrating than moving.”