Page 120 of Put a Rink on It

“As much as I hate the thought of moving again, Nero bought us a house in Connecticut, and if all things go through, we’ll sign next week. He wants to show it off to anyone willing.”

Juliet’s hand raises. “Me. It’s me. I’m willing.”

“Me too,” Millie chimes in.

“See. Told you they’d be willing,” I jest to Marina.

She rolls her eyes at me. “I’ll never doubt you again,” she derides playfully.

My life looks completely different from six months ago. I’ve moved to a different team, relocated to the East Coast, am in the process of buying a house, gained a fake fiancée who, fortunately for me, decided she loved me enough to stick with me for real, and get to marry her in a few short months to build a life I couldn’t have thought up in a million years.

My big mouth may have gotten me into this mess, but in the end, it’s working out better than I imagined.

She’s worn my last name on her back for years. The day it becomes officially hers will be the greatest gift I’ll ever receive.

CHAPTER 37

marina

The Minnesota lake glistens, the sight a marvel even compared to the elegance of the diamond on my finger nestled against the platinum wedding band and the fanciest French manicure. The sun has long set, and the last song of the night played. I’ve been Mrs. Nero Champion for several hours, and I can’t stop smiling.

The day was everything I could have imagined and more.

Nero took notes on everything I wanted, surpassing the image I saw in my mind. From the tiny decorations on the tables, the flowers, the food, the freaking cookie bar complete with olive cookies, the day was more than I deserved, including the groom.

Nero Champion is my soulmate in every way, and today marks the beginning of our forever. We’re going to build a beautiful life on a foundation of trust, friendship, and love. The love I have for this man grows stronger with each passing day, and I can’t fathom my life without him.

Our engagement and wedding were quick, but our slow burn love story started years ago, developing in the background behind the guise of our friendship. A part of me wonders what would have happened if we hadn’t let so many years pass without giving a real relationship a try, but being here with him now is enough to quell the what-ifs and all the chances we didn’t take. We’ve got decades to write our love story.

“Mrs. Champion, where you at?”

Nero’s voice greets my ears through the open door, and I giggle at his use of my married name. I hope it doesn’t take long before it doesn’t seem foreign. Marina Champion has a nice ring to it.

“In my favorite spot,” I call back, soon surrounded by his arms draping over my torso and his overwhelming aroma. He nuzzles against my ear, and I melt into him.

“Found you.”

“I wasn’t hiding.” I close my eyes, shutting off the incredible view to soak up the essence of my husband. “We should think about getting some sleep. We’ve got an early plane to catch.”

“Our plane leaves tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow, silly.” I twist in his arms, trading the view of the lake for my husband. His five o’clock shadow game is strong, and I can’t resist the urge to run my fingers through the stubble before twisting them in the short strands of his hair.

“Our plane leaves Monday morning,” he asserts, much to my surprise.

“So, what’s on our agenda for today?” I ask, my bewilderment piqued. How did I miss we weren’t leaving for St. Lucia until Monday? I swore he told me Sunday.

When he told me he was making all the plans for the honeymoon—“think of it as all the best dates rolled into two weeks”—I didn’t question him. Whatever he’s got planned, I’m here for it. Because he’s going to be there, and wherever he is, I want to be. At least in the offseason. We’ll figure out next season once we get there. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands while I flesh out my next role in life, other than Mrs. Champion and until I’m “mom.” I don’t need a job for the income as much as to keep myself from going stir-crazy with so much free time on my hands.

“Exploring all the ways and places in this house I can make you come,” Nero answers. “We probably won’t get to all of them in one day. Good thing we have all summer.”

“You have the best ideas, Mr. Champion.”

After our honeymoon, we’re spending the summer in Minnesota on the lake. Unbeknownst to me, he delisted it from Airbnb months ago, even before we gave up the pretense of our fake relationship, knowing he wanted to spend the offseason here. When he confessed his intention, I embraced it. I’ve loved this house since he moved in, never once thinking it would be on the list of places I’d call home, but not disappointed it’s exactly that. Our house in Connecticut isn’t our forever home, and I doubt we’ll live in Minnesota permanently, but it’s our home away from home in every sense of the phrase. My best guess is we’ll spend the summers here. It’s the perfect summer getaway, even when we start a family. Getting engaged and married here elevates its charm, making it even more special.

“I’m glad you think so, because you know what it’s time for?” He lets me go, clapping his hands in glee.

“I don’t know why you’re so excited for all the dying and the crying, but I suppose you’re right.”