Epilogue

Odette

T here's something special about Paris in the summer. There's something extraordinary about Paris in the summer with someone you love.

It means even more when the someone you love just came off his final Stanley Cup run and won by scoring the final goal.

Playoffs were the most anxiety-inducing experience I ever had. I loved every minute of it, and I traveled with the wags to all the games. I refused to miss any of it. And I made sure all the guys looked and felt like fire every time they stepped into an arena. A small thing, but I felt like I contributed in a small way to the camaraderie and morale, which Gavin says is important.

He may have been blowing smoke up my ass, but regardless, I loved doing it and the guys seemed appreciative. When you look fabulous, you feel fucking fabulous. That must help walking into a game.

Gavin retired as a player after that last game. He'd still been considering coaching at a league level, but the Blades made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and he's taken a position in Player Development.

At first, he thought it might be more demanding than what he wanted. Then he realized how much he'd miss being with the team, with players. He's been a part of a hockey team since he was four years old, that's not easy to give up, and being a coach of little kids isn't quite the same thing.

I'm happy he made the decision he did, even though I would have supported anything he decided. The world of hockey has grown on me this past year, I don't want to give it up quite yet, either. Though I won't miss the stress of potential injury.

Truthfully, I'd probably support Gavin if he committed murder, I'm so fucking head over heels for the man.

It's his kindness that does me in. He never gets angry, even when I'm being a bear from stress or in the middle of some client crisis. There are hundreds of small things that I never had before, like when we walk down a sidewalk, and he makes sure he's on the outside. I laughed the first time, because really, if an out-of-control car came up on the sidewalk, we'd likely both get hit. But it's sweet, nonetheless. He's always thoughtful like that. There's never a time when he isn't gentle with me. Well, except during sex.

A lot like he is when he's on the ice, he gets virile and vigorous. Unsatiable in obtaining whatever his end goal is, whether it's getting the puck in the net, or bringing me to my third orgasm before he finds his own pleasure.

Isla once told me she thinks hockey players are competitive with themselves when there is nobody else to play against, and I can see that with Gavin. He's always improving a skill or trying to outdo some accomplishment he's already made.

There, we're very similar. We want to be the best at whatever we set our mind to. I've strived to be the best girlfriend I can be.

Now, I want more.

We've never discussed marriage. Maybe he worries that it will bring back visions of his wedding with Caroline. Or maybe he's not interested in matrimony again. Part of me doesn't care about marriage. Well, not the kind sanctioned by a state and taxed by the Feds. I don't need a piece of paper to know we belong together.

But those dreams I had as a child? The ones that had me sketching wedding dresses on paper napkins when I was bored? Those have resurfaced.

I want to wear a pretty dress and profess my undying love to Gavin. It's more than want. It's a need, something more like fate, even. I've always thought we made our own way in life, never believing in any kind of divine intervention. But Gavin and I were meant to be together. So, what do I know?

We've spent the day shopping in the city. As promised, he bought me whatever I wanted from all my favorite vintage stores. I'll have to buy more luggage to get it all home, but there were too many amazing finds to pass up.

Now we're at a small restaurant next to the luxurious flat he rented for us. The one with the rooftop pool that overlooks the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

It's my birthday and I'm going to ask Gavin to marry me. It's the only present I want; he's already given me all I could ever think of asking for. And more. All that's left is the title of wife.

And stepmom, which I want just as much.

Nerves have danced around my tummy all day, growing fiercer as the day goes on. He'll say yes, I'm sure of it. So why am I so worried about it?

The server brings the bill and the bottle of champagne I ordered to-go. I told Gavin I wanted to drink it in the pool later. We've eaten enough to keep us full for days; red onion compote, artichokes in pepper, a cheese plate, mussels, followed by the most delectable lemon tart that melted as soon as it touched my tongue.

It's truly been the perfect day.

I grab the bill before he can, and he sends me a scathing glare.

"You can't pay. It's your birthday."

"You haven't let me pay for anything this entire trip."

"Right. Because it's your birthday trip," he argues.

"Well, I'm calling this your Stanley Cup celebratory dinner. And I'm buying."

"You're stubborn."

"So are you," I say, then hand the server my credit card.

"We both turn forty next year. We should take a trip for that, too," he says on the walk next door to our flat. "Maybe the Scottish Highlands."

"I could do a couple of weeks with green hills and cows," I say, smiling at the fact that he didn't offer up a tropical location.

Once in the flat, I go to the double doors that lead out to the rooftop deck, swinging them open wide. I place the bottle on the edge of the pool and unfasten the buttons on the front of my dress, letting it drop to the ground.

There's nothing underneath. I was prepared for how this night would end. Or I hope so, anyway.

I dive in, letting the water slide against my skin, the perfect temperature. Like a soothing bath, a balm to my tickling nerves. I come up for air, and Gavin dives in behind me as I prop my arms up on the ledge, floating.

Seconds later, his strong form is covering mine, his arms on either side of my own, and his chin resting atop my head.

"Happy birthday, Ode."

"Thank you," I whisper. "I couldn't have asked for a better day. You spoiled me."

"I had some years to make up for."

I twirl around in the water to face him.

"No, you don't. We're past all that." I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips, feeling how hard he is already. I take what I want, lowering down onto his cock, not wasting any time. We've had a day full of foreplay, of teasing, and secret smiles. "Fuck, the feel of you inside me never gets old."

"Let's hope not," he says, backing out slightly, only to thrust back in hard. "Lean back, baby."

Gavin places a palm on my back, lowering me until I'm floating on the water, my hair spreading around me and my breasts bobbing. He takes up a slow pace, rolling his hips deep but not fast enough to cause waves around me while I stare up at the stars in the sky. One shoots across my vision, and it brings tears to my eyes as I take it as a sign.

Gavin will say yes. Of course, he will. We're destined, even the stars say so.

His hands roam my body, over my belly, up through my cleavage, wrapping around the back of my neck. He supports me as he pulls my body onto his over and over.

"Gavin," I moan as the pressure inside me builds. "Pull me up, kiss me."

When I'm once again wrapped around him, he picks up the intensity, his lips devouring mine while I bounce wildly on his cock.

"I love you," I say between gasps for air. "Gavin, I want…" My words are swallowed by the engulfing pleasure. It's always so much with him, it's not just my body and his. It's more. It's our souls, our hearts reminding each of us that this is where we belong.

He groans in my ear as my orgasm pulls him into his own. It's my favorite sound in the world.

Gavin holds me in his arms long after we're both languid and spent, his hand rubbing circles along my spine.

"I want to get married," I say.

"What?" he asks, snapping his face to mine.

"Marry me, Gavin? I don't want to wait any longer. I want to be your wife. I want you to call me your wife. I want to call you my husband."

"I should have fucking known," he says, laughing robustly as he walks us back to the other side of the pool. He lifts me to sit on the edge. "Grab the bottle, Ode."

"Are you going to answer me?"

"After you grab that bottle," he says with a nod to the bottle beside me.

I reach for it and pause. Next to the bottle, Gavin placed two champagne flutes and a small pewter-colored box.

"Gavin."

"Open it up," he says. "It's my turn to ask you."

My fingers tremble as I open it to see a brilliant marquise-cut diamond surrounded by caliber-cut rubies in a gorgeous art deco style.

"It's beautiful, Gavin."

"Modern vintage, like the woman I hope will wear it when she says yes to marrying me."

"How long have you been planning this?" I ask as he takes the ring from me and slides it onto my finger. It fits perfectly.

"Since I was eighteen."