Page 131 of Perfectly Grumpy

I’ve been hiding in my office all evening, trying to distract myself with work rather than face whatever announcement is coming. When it’s time for the game to begin, there’s a knock on my office door. Jaz stands there, looking approximately ten minutes from going into labor.

“Hey,” she says, looking me over. “Why aren’t you wearing it yet?”

“Wearing what?” I ask.

“Are you kidding me?” she exclaims, then motions to my outfit. “Tate’s jersey.”

“I’m meeting with a potential sponsor in a few minutes,” I say, picking up his jersey from my desk. “And I didn’t think girlfriend jerseys screamed professional. I’ll put it on after?—”

“Nope. Wrong answer.” She stares at me like I’ve kicked apuppy. “Lauren. He’s never asked anyone to wear his jersey before. Not even his mom. And she’s here tonight, wearing a Crushers t-shirt.Nothis jersey.” She yanks the jersey out of my hands and shakes it at me. “Someone else can deal with the sponsor. Put this on right now.”

“Jaz!” I protest. “You’re practically forcing a hockey jersey on me.”

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t walk out there and accidentally disappoint your man five minutes before the biggest moment of his life.”

“I wasn’t going to disappoint anyone,” I say, taking off my blazer and sliding on the jersey over my shirt.

“Good. Now you won’t be disappointed that you’re not sitting in the staff box tonight.”

I tilt my head. “What?”

“You’re in the front row. Right behind the team.”

“Since when?”

“Since Tate requested it.”

I gape at her. “He cleared that with Coach?”

She shrugs. “Let’s just say—everyone’s on board.”

“Everyone? What’s that mean?”

Jaz shrugs innocently. “I’m not allowed to tell.”

She grabs my arm and practically drags me to the ice rink, where I make a discovery that stops me in my tracks. Not only is Olivia here, but my entire extended family has descended on the arena like it’s the Williamson Family Reunion 2.0.

Granny waves enthusiastically from the front row next to Jake and Olivia. Uncle Bobby and Aunt Tammy are sharing a bag of popcorn. Uncle Ray is eating a hot dog while Aunt Karen marks her program. Abby sits next to my niece and nephew, but thankfully, no Bart in sight.

“You brought thewholefamily?” I ask, scanning the sea of familiar faces.

Olivia beams. “Not me. Tate invited them.” My heart does alittle flip. This man who values his privacy invited my chaotic, loud, overwhelming family to watch him play.

“Nice jersey,” Uncle Bobby says, munching popcorn.

“Is that Tate’s jersey, honey?” Granny asks. I turn around and let her see the name on the back, suddenly feeling self-conscious in the best possible way.

“It saysSunny,” Granny says gleefully. “With his number four. Well, isn’t that just precious.”

I sit next to Olivia and lean toward her. “Did you know about this?”

“I did. But, Lauren, I couldn’t stop them from coming any more than I could stop an avalanche. As soon as Tate emailed the family, they agreed to come like it was a free food night at the county fair.”

I can practically see Tate at his computer, methodically typing messages to Granny and Uncle Bobby, crafting every word of the invitation. The fact that he wanted them all here—that he’s embracing the full Williamson experience—makes me fall for him just a little bit more.

Suddenly the team flies into the rink, but I don’t see Tate with them. And Tate is never late.

“Hey, where’s Sheriff?” I ask Leo as he skates by.

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