Epilogue

Monty

3 years later

After I smile for the hundreds of cameras pointed my way, I hand off the trophy to Yami, who has just as many tears coming down his cheeks as I do.

“We did it, brother,” he says, hoisting it over his head. “Woo!”

Damn right, we did.

With three years left in my career, I finally made it. The Vancouver Tridents are the league champions. And everyone I love is here to celebrate. Well, almost everyone.

Unfortunately, our daughter Stella, who I still call baby bird, has the flu and had to miss the game. But I know Lark’s mom will have it on the TV.

Speaking of my wife, I finally get my eyes on her, winding her way through the crowd, a wide smile on her face. She was kept busy the entire game, as not a single one of us stubborn assholes wanted to sit out even a second of play, no matter how tired, sore, and bruised we were.

Closing the last few steps at a run, Lark leaps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. “You did it!” she yells, only sort of into my ear. I spin her around before setting her down, grabbing her face in my hands and kissing her deeply.

We break apart when the voice of Sin and Willow’s daughter Peyton reaches us.

“Congrats, Uncle Monty!” We turn as one and pull her in for a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo. Your dad was the real star.”

Peyton rolls her eyes the way only a nine-year-old can. “He did okay, but it was Darling that got the winning run.”

“It’s a team sport,” I chide gently, knowing the girl has a bit of a crush on our southern boy.

“I know,” she admits before turning at her name being called by her grandmother.

As much as I love the kid, I’m glad to have her attention elsewhere so I can focus back on my girl. My wife. My love.

We were made for each other from day one. She just needed some time to catch up to me in realizing that.

But once she did, there was no stopping us from free-falling into love and happily ever after. There’s nothing better than waking up every morning with her in my arms.

The life we’ve made, it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. It’s more than I could ever dream of.

“Hey, earth to Dan.”

I blink at Lark’s hand waving in my face. “Sorry, Birdie. Did you say something?”

“No,” she replies with a soft smile. “You just looked lost in thought.”

I lean down and squeeze her tightly. “Just thinking about how damn lucky I am.”

“It’s not luck when you play a good game.” She laughs.

I kiss her deeply before replying, “I’m not talking about the game. I’m talking about you.”

The look of love she gives me is better than any championship. “I’m the lucky one. Lucky you never gave up on me and never stopped loving me.” She kisses me this time, and for a few seconds, the noise and the crowd disappears. It’s just us.

Until two hands are on my shoulders and Darling’s southern accent is in my ear. “How ’bout that, Monty! Champions!”

I turn to see him grinning at us. He moves to drape his arms over our shoulders, making his way between us.

“That last run, Darling, that was amazing,” Lark says, leaning into his side affectionately. Darling’s face lights up as he steps forward, his arms dropping from our shoulders.

“Yeah, thanks, Lark.” We’re quickly forgotten as he walks toward the woman coming our way with a wide smile.

I pull Lark in front of me and drop a kiss to her head as we watch the two of them kiss. Now that was an interesting time, watching Darling fumble around as they tried to figure their shit out.

The crowd has started to thin as players and staff clear from the field. I don’t want to go. I don’t want this night to ever end, even though a part of me is anxious to get back and check on Stella.

“Hey, Birdie.” I lean down, squeezing her even tighter into my chest. “Wanna go make out in a storage closet with me?”

She slaps my arm and laughs. “No! You’re nuts.”

“Nuts for you, maybe. ”

“Oh my God, stop.” She turns in my arms, looping hers around my neck. “No storage closets.” She slaps my stomach, pushing me away with a laugh.

I step back, running my hands down my body. “What, you don’t want all this delicious dad bod goodness?”

It’s a good thing most of the press has left so they don’t hear Lark’s snort of amusement.

“You don’t have a dad bod, Dan. Far from it.”

I nod sagely and take her hand to lead her off the field. “You’re right, it’s far more of a father figure.” I bend over and kiss the side of her head. “Something I never imagined I’d be until you finally admitted your love for me.”

“You mean until the condom slipped,” she replies dryly, but her eyes are full of love.

“That, too,” I agree as we reach the dugout. I jog down the steps first and turn to face her, placing my hands on her hips. “Hey, I love you.”

She leans into my hands, letting me lift her down the stairs as she kisses the tip of my nose .

“I know.”

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