Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Van

I take a last look in the mirror, adjusting my tie and running a hand over my beard. I trimmed it this morning. On a scale of five o'clock shadow to mountain man, I'm leaning toward five o'clock lumberjack.

Just the way Amelia likes it.

This is how she likes it—right? Or did I go a little too short?

I'm not sure why I'm obsessing over my facial hair. Or any of the other details of today. Earlier, it was my socks bunching up. Then I worried I put on too much cologne. Stupid things that shouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

Especially since, as far as I'm concerned, Amelia and I have been married since that night on the beach.

Even if, as it turns out, the certificate we signed was not legally official. I guess you can't trust every random officiant you find on the beach.

Though Mills and I could have just gone to a courthouse or signed a paper with a witness, we both loved the idea of having a do-over. A wedding where our family and friends could be with us. That is our shared regret from our first wedding. Not how impulsively we did it or anything else, but the fact that our family and friends weren't there.

So, there is no reason for me to be so nervous. And yet …

I am. More jittery and unsure than before my very first game with the Appies. At least then I knew the adrenaline would kick in the second the puck dropped. Now, I'm afraid I might black out right in the middle of the ceremony.

And I have this nagging feeling like there's something I forgot.

"Oh, my gosh ," Callie says, sneaking up behind me and making me jump back from the mirror. "Would you stop admiring yourself, Vanity?"

"I want to give all the guys on your team a high five for thinking of that nickname." Lex comes up beside me and leans her head on my shoulder, grinning up at me.

"Honestly, it's shocking you three didn't think of it first," I say. "I mean, it was right there—ripe for the picking. And you went instead with?—"

"Robbie Bobby Baby Benjamin Bunny." Grey comes up on my other side, linking her arm through mine. "It has such a nice ring to it. And the guys really seem to like it."

"You did not tell them."

Grey shrugs. "They made me an offer I couldn't refuse." Lex giggles, and Callie gives Grey a high five.

I groan and step away from my traitorous sisters. "You know I will never hear the end of it."

"That was kind of the point," Grey says. "Anyway. Are you ready for this—your second wedding in one year?"

"A little excessive," Callie says. "But very on brand for you." Her expression and her tone soften. "We're so happy for you and Amelia. And glad we get to be here this time."

Callie suddenly looks like she's going to burst into tears, and I wrap her in a hug, shielding her from Lex and Grey, who are bickering now about their shoes.

"You're welcome," I whisper near Callie's ear.

"I owe you a block of extra sharp white cheddar," she says on a laugh that catches on what sounds like a sob.

I'm having a hard time myself. My nose is doing that tingling thing and it's hard to swallow. "Sounds good, Dr. Van de Kamp. I'll also accept payment in the form of shredded or sliced."

She squeezes me tighter, laughing.

There is a sudden commotion at the door, which can only mean one thing.

"It's time!" Eli announces, bounding into the room. "Hope you've got your pants on!"

Callie whispers, "Thanks," and slips out of my embrace.

"Why wouldn't I have pants on?" I ask as the rest of the guys file into the room.

Eli shrugs. "I don't know. Coming in here feels a little like coming into a locker room or something, all private-like and intimate."

"Speaking of intimate," Alec says. "Do we need to have a talk about the wedding night? What to expect?"

"I think I'm good," I tell him, covering Grey's ears. Leaning closer to her, I say, "You should go before the three of you get corrupted by the untoward influence of my teammates."

"Like they could corrupt us," Lex says loftily. "But we should go check on Amelia."

"Tell her hi!" I call as my sisters start to file out the door. "Actually, tell her I said, ‘Shoot the hostage.'"

Logan snorts, and Nathan gives me the kind of look that would turn a grape into a raisin right on the vine. Alec is shaking his head. In appreciation or exasperation—kind of hard to tell which one.

I ignore them all.

Callie pauses, one foot halfway out the door. "You want me to tell her that ? Right now—ten minutes before your wedding? Not very romantic, bro."

"It's a quote from Speed . She'll get it. It's a Keanu thing."

"You're so weird," she mutters as she closes the door behind her.

As soon as my sisters are gone, the guys descend on me.

"Went a little short on the beard, eh?"

"Could have used a little trim on the back of your hair, too. Want me to do it? I've got a pair of fingernail clippers in my pocket."

"If you're going to quote Keanu to your wife, you should really pick a better quote. Like ‘I know kung fu.'"

"So, does this count as your second marriage? Because if so, I don't think we're obligated to give you a gift."

All the teasing has the effect of calming me down, kind of like a hockey player's lullaby. I'm not sure if that's the intent or if they're just being obnoxious, but I appreciate them, nonetheless.

I don't get a chance to say so because a voice booms from the doorway, "That's enough!"

Coach's booming voice has us all whipping around and standing at attention like we're military men, not hockey players.

He glares from the doorway, his eyes moving from man to man to man until they finally land and stick on me.

"Leave us," he says, and I gulp.

"Hope you're wearing your cup," Alec whispers in my ear as he passes.

"And a bulletproof vest," Eli mutters.

But the moment they're all gone, Coach's face breaks into a grin, and I relax. Mostly.

"How's my second least favorite player and first least favorite son-in-law?"

"Second least favorite? I got an upgrade?"

"Dominik is making me nuts. You look like you're about to puke."

"I might," I admit.

"Well, if you're going to do it, do it now. Not when you're standing in front of all those people." He walks over to me, circling like he's inspecting me. "You clean up pretty good."

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself, Dad."

He scoffs. Something he does every time I call him Dad. Which is probably why I do it so frequently. A lot of things have changed in our dynamic, but one thing has not—I still get under his skin like no one else. And I still enjoy doing it just as much.

Once he finishes circling me, he stops in front, smoothing down my lapels before patting me on the shoulders roughly. "Look, I don't want to get all sappy. I already did that with Milly, and I don't have it in me to do it twice. But I want you to know that I love you."

His words are so unexpected that it takes me a minute to really register what he's said.

"Well, don't look so shocked, son," he adds.

But I am shocked. "I'm just … wow. You totally—I didn't—wow."

"It's a good thing you're not giving any speeches tonight," he says. "You suck at them. And you shouldn't be so surprised by family telling you they love you."

I stare down at my shoes. They're so shiny I can see the recessed lights reflected near my toes. But there's a scuff on the left one, and I bend, trying to buff it out with my fingertip. It only makes smudges. One tear falls with a tiny splat on the shoe, and I rub that around. It works better.

"What are you doing?" Coach asks.

"My shoe is dirty." I stand, sliding my sweaty palms down my pants and sniffling.

Coach is frowning at me. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

I shake my head. "I only just now realized that I don't know the last time my dad told me that."

Now, he's the one looking upset. Or like he might puke. But what Coach does is pull me into a hug. Not for too long. Because he may like me better than he did, and he may love me, but I still bug him more than anyone else.

"Thank you for trusting me with your daughter, sir."

He nods. Sniffs. Wipes one eye. "Thank you for helping her fly."

The deejay started playing slow songs in a steady stream about twenty minutes ago, and I'm pretty sure it has to do with putting a stop to Tucker's twerking. It seems to be his only move, and the man sure has endurance. But it's hard to twerk to "Unchained Melodies."

Something I'm grateful for.

Mills snuggles closer, yawning into my neck. "Is it time to go yet? I think I'm weddinged out."

I glance around the room, a historic theater turned reception hall in the older part of Harvest Hollow. There are more than a few couples swaying like we are, plus a few still seated at tables around the room. But it's mostly just a few stragglers—our closest friends. We decided not to do a big send-off, so we can go any time before midnight, which is how long we rented the space.

A lot of the guys are still here, though a few of the couples left an hour or two ago. Morgan is flirting shamelessly with Wyatt, who is doing his best impression of those British guards who aren't allowed to react to anything. I think that's why she's flirting with him—Amelia's best friend likes a challenge.

Parker and Logan are making out in a corner behind a large potted plant, which hides nothing. Summer and Alec are having some kind of intense conversation, with Nathan glowering next to her. That looks fun.

Coach is saying goodbye to his brother and Becky—two people I didn't particularly want to invite. But both Mills and her dad wanted to make peace. Things are tentative, but they're here. It helps that Becky sincerely apologized to Amelia. And she isn't dating Drew any longer.

It's wild to think about the two of them. What they did was awful. But if they hadn't done it, I might not be here.

"How about after this song?" I suggest, giving Amelia's earlobe a tiny bite.

She giggles, then yawns again. "Okay. Can I make a request?"

"Anything." I trail my lips along her neck.

At least, until I accidentally lock eyes with her father across the room. He's now alone, and he's glaring. Immediately, I straighten and lift my hands a little higher. Closer to her waist than where they just were. Which was … not on her waist.

"What's the request?" I ask.

"Will you carry me out when we go? Not just over the threshold or whatever. But out of this room, down to the car, and then from the car to the house. My feet hurt."

"I would love nothing more. Consider me your personal carrying service."

"M'kay." She nuzzles into my chest, becoming almost dead weight. I think she's about three minutes from falling asleep.

"On second thought, I don't think we should wait until the end of the song. You, my little Mills, need a nap."

"Just a little one," she says. "Because I had plans at home. A whole"—she yawns again—"outfit and stuff."

I chuckle. "As much as I like the sound of an outfit and especially and stuff , you'll have to save it for the honeymoon."

Without giving her any warning, I scoop her up into my arms. She practically melts into me, her eyelids fluttering closed. I pause for a moment, needing to remember this. Amelia's cheeks are flushed pink, highlighting her scattered freckles. Her lips are barely parted, and I want nothing more than to tuck her into our bed at home and press a kiss to those lips.

Okay, there are a few things I'd like more.

But not tonight. She's completely tapped out. And actually … she might be drooling on my tux.

We said our official goodbyes to her dad and my sisters hours ago, and I give them all a quick nod as we start toward the door. It only takes a quick glance at Amelia to see why we're leaving. Grey puts a hand over her heart, and Lex wipes her eyes.

Right at the door, I'm stopped by a frowning Summer, who is dragging Alec by the arm.

"We need to talk," Summer says.

I groan. "Can it wait? Is it life-threatening?"

"I mean, no one's going to die ," she says. "But you probably want to know this now. Want to tell them, Alec?"

"Tell us what?" Amelia murmurs, barely cracking open her eyes. "Oh, and thanks again for doing the ceremony. It's nice to have a guy on the team who can perform weddings."

"About that," Alec says, and the guilty look on his face tells me exactly where this conversation is headed. "Apparently, the kind of certification I have to perform weddings needs to be renewed."

"And you didn't renew it," I state.

"He did not," Summer says. "Which means … you just got married for the second time with out a valid marriage license. Which means, legally speaking, this doesn't count."

"You had one job," I tell Alec. "One." I'm honestly not really mad, but it's fun to be the one getting after our captain. Usually, it's the other way around.

"You and your paperwork," Amelia says, giving Summer a look. "Are you going to try to tell me that Van's not my husband? Because he is. He was my husband from the time I said I do and till death do us part and all the other stuff on the beach. Now, we've done all that two times. He is my husband twice over and then some. Don't you try to take this away from me. It's unconstitutional."

Amelia's head falls back against my chest, and a second later she lets out a tiny, adorable snore. She looks like a happy, sleepy, beautiful marshmallow with the fabric of her dress practically swallowing her. I have a sudden flashback to her in my SUV, drowning in a different wedding dress, and trying to throw the garter belt out the window. I still keep it in my dresser.

"How about we deal with the legal stuff later?" I suggest to Summer. "I'll pay you double your hourly rate if you can figure out the best and fastest way for us to actually get legally married."

Summer nods. "Will do."

"Glad you're not mad," Alec says. "And you know what they say—third time's the charm!"

I level him with a look. "I never said I wasn't mad. Now you owe me, and I plan to collect."

But right now, I have a sleepy bride who needs to be put to bed. We'll deal with the marriage license another day, and I can't even be mad about it. Because despite my vow that I would only get married once, I would say "I do" to Amelia a hundred times over.

THE END!