Epilogue 2

Whitand I stand on opposite sides of the altar, me dressed in a tuxedo and her in a satiny gown that's a muted autumn shade of bronze. Everything about this wedding is traditional and over the top. It's not exactly what we have planned, but I'm imagining us in Kathleen and Clancy's places, exchanging vows.

From a seat next to Mr. and Mrs. Reid, Blue looks on in fascination. Everything about this past week has only solidified her decision to call Kathleen "Fancy."

When the engaged couple asked Blue to be their flower girl, she was over the moon. The trips to the dress shop, the rehearsals, and last night's feast have her senses on overload in the best of ways. You'd think she was a princess for a day and takes her role with the flower petals very seriously.

I can't read my little sister's mind, but we've talked a bit about what she calls "Before" and now, not revealing too much, but the contrast is stark. Not only does she have a stable home environment, at least three meals a day, access to the cookie jar, a bicycle to ride, and daily time with dairy cows, but she has Whit, Macy, and I'm pleased to say me.

At the beginning of last summer, I didn't think I could hack this dad gig. She even calls me Papa Bear from time to time. To be clear, I'm her brother, but when things go bump in the night, when she's extra proud of nailing a new skill during hockey practice, or got a gold star at school, she runs to me full of pride and glee.

The lines have blurred a bit, I suppose, but that's okay. She's young and I hope in time, she hardly even remembers "Before" and replaces it with only good memories, trust in the people who take care of her, and strong connections with friends and family.

I toss her a wink and then my gaze shoots past the soon-to-be married couple and to Whit, my fiancée. Her light brown eyes float to mine as if she senses me looking, admiring. They catch and hold. I can't pretend to have any idea of what she's thinking about, but I hope it has something to do with the two of us up here pledging our lives together in exactly seven weeks.

Last summer was one of surprises for me. My world got turned upside down and inside out. Part of me thought it was over. Now, my bases are covered. I'm about to hit a home run, but that's the wrong game. In hockey land, I'd have just scored the winning goal during sudden death, winning the game for the team.

Which happened recently. Even if that hadn't been the outcome, I still would've proposed to Whitney on the ice in a very public way. I wanted to show her that she means more to me than hockey. To make right how I left her behind in high school and that our kiss during the camping trip was not a mistake—and that I'm willing to do that with her for the world to see.

Someone clears their throat nearby, indicating I'm supposed to be passing off the wedding bands. Can't lie, I only have eyes for the bridesmaid with light brown eyes.

The next hour is a whirlwind with the receiving line, photographs, and trying to keep the focus on the bride and groom—not the random hockey fans who're all too eager to talk to me about the current season's projections.

"Looks like you're holding court over here," Whit says, sliding her arm through mine.

"Don't get me wrong, I love talking hockey, but it's your brother's big day."

The corner of her lip twitches, presumably because I didn't refer to him as my best friend.

I lean in and whisper, "I said what I said. You're my best friend."

Whit was always known for her scowl, but I get the full-blast Whitney Laurel Reid smile. "Don't want to steal you from him, but—" she starts.

"But someone took his place and rightfully so." I nod toward the newlyweds.

"So, am I your sloppy seconds?"

I cut Whit a look—one that says she'll suffer the consequences of thinking that way later, either through tickles or limited kisses after Blue goes to sleep.

She tosses her head back. "I'm joking. But not long ago, I was dreading this day, knowing Clancy's best friend was going to be at the wedding. I was almost glad when my parents said I had to have a boyfriend before they could get married to avoid seeing you again."

"They say to be careful what you wish for. Because I ended up at your house." I lift and lower my eyebrows.

"And I wouldn't want it any other way. Plus, only a true best friend would tolerate my indecision and million ideas about remodeling the farmhouse."

"It's your place and you know my position on the matter. We get married, move into the team condo while the contractors are tearing the place up, and then return home when it's done. That way, no one gets any sawdust in their cookie dough. And I guarantee Blue will be your alarm clock to milk the cows every morning."

"But I'm so torn about changing things up in the house. Also, it's our house."

I grip Whit's shoulders. "The designs you have maintain the classic farmhouse look to honor your grandparents while updating it to accommodate a modern family. And I bet all that extra kitchen counter space will be welcome when you have three different kinds of cookies baking."

She tips her head from side to side. "True."

"And the soaking tub upstairs."

The tension in her neck releases.

"And the master suite." I wink.

She nods slowly.

But before we discuss further, a woman with a long nose and puffy hair comes over, addressing Whit. "I see you finally have a boyfriend."

Her expression doesn't falter when she replies, "Actually, I have a fiancé." She flashes the ring on her hand. "Redd meet my aunt Rena, my father's sister from Lincoln."

"It's a pleasure," I say, reaching for her hand to shake.

The older woman keeps her hands clasped while looking me up and down. I note that she doesn't wear a wedding ring.

Rena sniffs. "Well, it's about time. Otherwise, you would've held up Clancy and Miss Kathleen's nuptials. Not fair if you ask me."

"Tell me about it. Mom was being ridiculous and Dad even more so for going along with that nonsense."

"No, I mean I thought you'd end up an old maid in the farmhouse. Shame Mom left it to you. I can't imagine you'll do anything good with it." Aunt Rena scoffs.

Whit's expression sours and then just as quickly, she lifts a smile onto her lips and glances at me. "Funny, we were just discussing our remodeling plans." Whit goes into elaborate detail about the interior and exterior updates that maintain the character of the beloved farmhouse.

"That's the plan," I say part question and part declaration.

Whit makes a sharp, "Mmmhmm," and then adds, "And we're paving the driveway, so Blue can ride her bike on a smooth surface."

That one is new to me.

As if the somewhat grandiose plans weren't what Aunt Rena expected, she lifts her chin as if affronted and then says, "I'll believe it when I see it."

Whit rolls her eyes. "We break ground on Monday. I'll be sure to take before and after photos."

"I don't suppose the two of you have set a date," Aunt Rena says as if trying to have the last word.

"To break ground?" I ask, confused because Whit announced it's Monday. Guess that's when we're breaking ground.

"No, to get married."

"Actually, yes, in T-minus forty-nine days," Whit says, having selected that number of days because that's how many seconds she and Clancy are apart. Also, we want to make things official before the hockey season gets too insane.

"Then I'll see you at the wedding." With a huff, Aunt Rena stumps away.

"What a charming woman," I mutter.

When I look to Whit for her response, her eyes are closed and she presses her lips together—not in a meditative way, rather like she's exercising restraint.

A laugh escapes me because I realize exactly what's happening. "Don't say it," I whisper.

Through gritted teeth she replies, "I'm trying so hard not to."

After a beat, I say, "You're in the clear."

Whit opens her eyes and says, "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell her I'd see her at the wedding only if she found a boyfriend."

"An inventive way to turn the tables." I chuckle.

"Right? I was thinking we'd only allow people in my family or who stood by my parents' stupid statute who had plus ones. Wouldn't that be hilarious?"

I lace my arms around her waist. "Wickedly hilarious and very much the old Whit."

"I wonder where I got it." She clasps her hands behind my neck.

"Your mom is as sweet as pie."

Her eyebrows bounce. "Revenge is a dish best served whipped...I could get her in the face with a whipped cream pie."

"No, my dear Whitney. There will be no revenge because if you think about it, in a way, the whole situation brought us together."

"But that's not the whole story."

"No, it's not. I like the story we're writing though, and I cannot wait until we get to the chapter that starts with our wedding day."

Her eyes widen.

"Surprised to hear me say that?"

"Somewhat. It's not every day that a famous hockey player, who was known for not committing to much other than the game, is eagerly anticipating getting married."

"I was just waiting for the right person to come back into my life."

"Is that so?"

I smirk. "Turns out to be the case. You had me under that tree on the camping trip."

"You had me at the mustache."

I tuck my chin back. "Really? I thought you despised the thing. In fact, I recall you muttering about rotten old lip lettuce."

She shrugs. "What with the whole Milk Mustache thing..."

"Should I grow it back?"

"No, I like kissing you without it."

Our lips meet and fireworks explode between us. It never gets old. I suspect it never will, not even when we do, because I plan on being with this woman and doing everything in my power to show her how much she is seen, appreciated, and loved for the rest of her life.

The next forty-nine days gallop by with Blue's school events, holidays, starting the remodel and moving into the condo, the hockey season well underway, and preparing for the wedding. I feel like I finally surface on our wedding day.

Whit wears a column-style gown with lace sleeves and an open back. It's delicate yet striking, just like her. Her hair is half up and down with loose waves under her veil. Eyes sparkling, I cannot imagine anyone I'd rather share this moment with.

Her strawberry scent wafts my way and a smile forms with her slightly bigger lower lip puffing out in a way that tells me she feels the same way.

Once more, I'm in a tux. Blue is the flower girl again and Baloo is our ring bearer.

But the big difference is after the pastor announces, "You may kiss the bride," Whit and I do. Then just before we march down the aisle to exit the church, I pull her close to me, getting one more kiss. I feel her smile against my mouth. Before we leave our little newlywed bubble, we simultaneously whisper, "I love you."

Our wedding is small compared to Clancy and Fancy's, but the room erupts in cheers that rival a hockey win. The truth is, marrying Whit is the biggest victory of my life, and having a family together makes it even sweeter.