Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Jack couldn’t stop singing or humming the song, the lyrics stuck in his head. “I’ve had the time of my life.”

He didn’t want the night—right now—to end. And maybe that was pitiful, but . . .

The wedding was over. Tomorrow Harper would leave and . . .

“Best part of the wedding is the leftover cake.” Doyle leaned against a counter in the kitchen of the inn, his tie off, his shirt sleeves rolled up, holding a massive piece of cake.

“Right?” Conrad, similarly attired, unpeeled a cupcake.

Austen had changed clothes, wearing a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, helping clean up the kitchen after the catering crew left. She was bagging garbage, tying it.

“Austen—sit down,” said Harper, who sat wearing the big socks Jack had snagged from the emergency supply his mother kept for guests. “We can clean tomorrow.”

We? He liked how that sounded. He set down his cake plate. “I want to know who Stein was dancing with.”

He cast a glance at his brother, who had come back into the house after taking out one of Austen’s garbage bags.

“What?”

“That beautiful blonde you danced with tonight. Who was she?”

Stein lifted a shoulder. “She looked like she wanted to dance, so . . .” He hoisted Austen’s closed bag.

“That was some dancing. Who knew you had moves?”

“We have the same mother. Same dance classes.”

“No way,” Conrad said. “Mom never taught us that .”

One side of Stein’s mouth lifted up as he headed out the door.

“I want to know how you learned the crew dance, Jack,” Harper said. She had finished off another cupcake too.

“YouTube video. Last night. Over and over.”

“He practiced in the bathroom. The light was on after midnight,” Conrad added. “Always has to be the best.”

Jack gave them an of course lift of his shoulder.

Even Harper laughed.

And everything inside him longed to walk across the room, take her in his arms, and tell her he loved her.

Loved, yes . Enough lying to himself. He loved Harper Malone. And if that meant him moving to Nashville and setting up camp . . . well, there were plenty of lost people in the South, right?

Maybe he’d even take the bar. Again.

Doyle set down his plate. “So, Declan Stone offered me a job.”

A beat, during which Stein walked back into the house, dragging the night and cold with him. He stamped off his boots. “The stars are out. It’s a beautiful night for broomball.”

Everyone looked at him, then back at Doyle.

“What kind of job?” Jack asked.

“His foundation runs an orphanage down on the island of Mariposa, in the Caribbean. He needs a director, and I need a change.”

More silence.

“But I can’t leave Mom and Dad with this place, alone.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, then pointedly looked at Jack.

What? “Oh . . . bro.”

“You should stay.” This from Harper. She was nodding, something alight in her eyes. “You don’t have a home, and maybe in the meantime you could buy a new bus, fix it up?—”

“What are you talking about?” Austen said. “Jack’s loaded. He’s got a home in Florida, near the beach, a boat, vintage cars?—”

Jack held up a hand. Too late—Harper’s eyes widened.

“And here I was worried you were homeless.”

“This is my home.” The words just sort of slipped out.

More silence, and then Austen smiled at him. “Yeah, it is. Like that needlepoint Mom has, right? Near or far, wherever we are, all roads lead to home.”

His gaze held Harper’s as he nodded. Stay here, with me, build a home . The thought pulsed inside him. But how could he ask her to give up her life in Nashville?

But . . . maybe he didn’t have to have the answers. Maybe, just like his dad had said, he should stop trying to figure out what he was supposed to do and simply let God work in him to do whatever came next. “Then, and only then, will you truly stop searching.”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze still on Harper’s. “I could stay for a while.”

Harper smiled, warmth in her eyes. So, he’d said something right.

“Thanks, bro,” Doyle said. “I have a few weeks before I’m going to fly out, so I’ll teach you the ropes.”

“I think I can figure out how to stack firewood and shovel the driveway,” Jack said. “Since I’m the one who taught it to you.”

Laughter, and Doyle rolled his eyes.

Conrad’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, thumbed it open. Made a face of approval.

“Aw, now you have to tell us who is texting you that has put that grin on your face,” Doyle said.

Conrad slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Penelope. Wants to talk to me about something.” His phone buzzed again, and again he pulled it out, swiped it open.

This time his face fell. “Oh no.”

“What’s oh no ?” Stein asked.

Conrad flashed the group a picture. Him carrying Penelope into the wedding reception. Someone had snapped it, put it up on Instagram with the caption?—

Has the center for the Blue Ox finally found a woman to focus on?

“So, maybe not a date,” Austen said. “Sorry, Con.”

He dropped the phone back into his pocket, his mouth pinched.

“Sorry, bro,” Stein said. “This is why I don’t have social media.”

“You don’t have social media because you’re a stick-in-the-mud,” said Austen. She’d finished cleaning and now came over and slid onto the counter, next to Harper.

“Speaking of Declan Stone, didn’t I see you talking to him tonight, Austen?” Doyle asked.

“Not really. We wound up in the buffet line together, and he asked me what I did and seemed a little interested, although he might have been being polite. I mean, when I say I’m a marine biologist, I get a lot of rolled eyes. It’s like when people say they’re a rocket scientist. It sounds a little like I’m a nine-year-old girl wanting to play with dolphins.”

“But you do play with dolphins,” said Harper.

“Actually, sharks ,” Doyle said.

Austen grinned.

But Jack was watching Stein, who’d pulled his phone—no, two phones—from his pocket. He put one down and looked at the other, frowning as he pushed the power button. “I think this is Declan Stone’s phone.”

Jack walked over, looked at the screen. “Is that a dog?”

“Declan’s dog—died last year. He has a picture of him on his wall downstairs by his pool table.” Stein set the phone on the stainless-steel island. “What am I doing with Declan Stone’s phone?”

Jack held up his hands. “This mystery is on you. I’m done.” He stepped up to the door. Indeed, outside, the moon had sprinkled magic onto the snow on the lake, the stars a thousand diamonds, turning the night priceless. “Anyone want a game of broomball?”

Stein glanced at him, smiled. “Really?”

“We turn on the lights, clear a rink . . .”

“I’m game,” said Conrad.

“Me too.” Doyle answered.

Stein shrugged. “I’ll deal with the phone tomorrow.” He turned. “You’re going down, Big Jack.”

Jack laughed. “You think so.”

“I’m in,” Austen said, sliding off the counter. “But only if Harper plays.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Harper held Jack’s eyes as she joined Austen. “But I’ll need to borrow some clothes.”

“I have a stash at the carriage house,” Austen said. “I got you. I’ll meet you at Doyle’s.” She headed out the door, the boys behind her.

“Grab shovels on your way to the rink,” Jack said as they left. He caught Harper’s hand, however, and pulled her back into the kitchen.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes big, so much in them. And he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you, Harper. I just didn’t want to admit it. And maybe I wasn’t ready for it either, but I am now.” He nodded, took a breath. “So if it means making promises, I’m in.”

“Breaking all your rules.”

“So many rules.” He nodded. “I’m crazy about you, Harper.”

She smiled, put her hands on his chest, then wound them around his neck. “I know.”

Aw. He lowered his head to kiss her, but she lifted her chin away. “Ask me.”

He stilled. Ask her—what?

“Stop panicking. Ask me to stay, silly man.”

Oh. Raw. Terrifying. But maybe that’s how he discovered the truth—by putting his heart out there. “Please . . . stay.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t want to lose what I found—what we found.”

“Okay, Mr. Nice Guy, I’ll stay.” She shrugged. “Because I love you too.”

“I know.”

She laughed. “Whatever. Besides, I already told Penelope I’d help do research for her podcast.”

He shook his head, grinning. Wow, she smelled good, all velvety and molded to him in his arms, like she’d been made for him, and he for her.

It’d just taken them this long to find each other.

“Where do we go from here?” she said softly.

“I think you should kiss me,” he said.

“So bossy.” But she lifted herself up and pressed her mouth to his. Sweetly, tasting of frosting and what-ifs and the tomorrows he could already see.

The back door opened, and Stein stuck his head in. “Are you coming already? Sheesh—you’re not going to make us dig this rink all by ourselves, are you?”

Jack let her go. “Right behind you.” He looked down at Harper. “By the way, you still owe me a hundred bucks. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.”

And as she laughed, he swooped her up and carried her out the door and into the gorgeous, starry, magical night.

* * *

Now continue the adventure with the next book in the series, Conrad now!! Another Blue Ox hockey player you are going to love!

THERE'S TROUBLE IN THE NORTH...

Meet Conrad, a hockey star meets celebrity romance in the Minnesota Kingston series by USA Today bestselling author Susan May Warren.

He’s an unlikely bodyguard, but someone has to keep this woman alive…

Meet Penelope Pepper: billionaire heiress, mystery podcaster, and magnet for trouble. If only she wasn’t so determined to unravel the mystery of “who killed her sister’s fiancé.” Because clearly, given her recent kidnapping, with each episode, she’s closer to the truth.

And someone wants to silence her.

Probably she needs a protector, right?

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Except, Blue Ox need ticket sales and when a mix-up ropes him into playing Penelope's fake boyfriend, he’s suddenly the social media darling, driving in fans to the home ice. Only problem…one of them doesn’t know the dating is fake.

As Penelope's stalker draws nearer with every juicy episode, Conrad finds himself sliding from fake kisses to real protective instincts, and on thin ice with his heart. But can he find his footing before the killer catches up to Penelope?

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