Page 95 of Dice & Dekes

“Nice shirt.” Vivian winks. “I don’t suppose you have anything planned tonight?”

“Are you psychic or something?” I hiss back.

She chuckles and rubs her stomach. “Maybe I’m just working on my mother’s intuition.”

“That, or Dante said something to Coach,” I mumble.

“What was that?” Mom asks.

“Nothing.” I want tonight to be a surprise. Then, if something goes wrong, I can blame Dante.

I take a deep breath. This is it. I have no idea if this is going to work, or if Dante’s going to screw the timing, or if the photos are even going to load. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he’s changed his mind. Maybe… maybe I’m hoping too hard.

Marco’s voice comes over the speaker, so loud that it drowns out any follow-up questions. I’m reminded that there’s another weak link in my grand plan, since Marco was the one who kicked off my disastrous musical performance earlier this season.

“Hello, hockey fans!” His introduction is met with excited screams from the audience. “It’s so good to have you here, my friends! Tonight is a big night for the Las Vegas Venom, and—ow, stop it, what are you…?”

Every eye in the arena turns toward the commentator booth. Marco is dragged back from the mic, and a brief scuffle occurs just out of sight. A moment later, Dante settles into the recently vacated chair. Marco’s co-commentator stares slack-jawed at his boss, who makes a quick slashing motion across his neck.

Great. This is already getting weird.

“Good evening,” Dante purrs into the mic. “I’m Dante Giovanetti, the owner of the Venom, addressing you in person for the first time.”

Some people cheer, though there’s some general muttering from the visiting New York fans, who don’t appreciate the fact that the home team is hogging the spotlight.

Vivian mutters under her breath, “That’s not ominous at all.”

“This is either going to be iconic or a total trainwreck,” Sofia whispers. “Possibly both.”

“As many of you know,” Dante says, “I’ve done something a little unconventional with the Venom in recent years. Given that we’re all here tonight, it seems that my efforts are paying off. I’m bringing back the magic, which has included bringing Viktor Abbott onto the team.”

A spotlight swivels toward Viktor, who looks exactly as confused as I’d expect. He finds me in the crowd and mouths,What the fuck?I can only shake my head.

“This year, Viktor found a little magic of his own,” Dante announces.

My stomach does a somersault. This is it. This is the moment I handed over to Dante—and I have no control. What if he uses the wrong pictures? What if he picked the one where Viktor’s fly was open? What if—

With those words, our wedding photos light up along the boards. Viktor’s confusion morphs into delight as the arena goes ballistic. He lets his head roll back, his face bright with laughter. I’m smiling so hard my face hurts. Our families are cheering; both Mom and Molly have tears in their eyes.

He presses a hand to his chest like he’s physically holding himself together. His eyes find mine in the crowd and for a second—just a second—he looks like he might cry.

“I love you, Knova!” Viktor shouts. His voice echoes around the ice.

“I love you, too!” My answer is lost among the cheers of the crowd, but I know Viktor saw my lips move.

And right then, I know. This isn’t just a cute surprise. This is a line in the sand. A declaration to the whole damn world. No more hiding. No more “accidents” or annulments or what-ifs.

This man is my husband. And I am his wife. And we’re going to win—on and off the ice.

Epilogue

Knova

Baylor examines the layout of the party, taking in the buffet on the porch, the big white tent on the lawn, and the proliferation of hockey players milling around. “This is quite the event. Although it seems excessive to have a chocolate fountain and a champagne fountain, don’t you think?”

“I disagree. They match.”

Baylor chuckles. “Good to see that marriage hasn’t made you any less extra.”

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