Page 23 of Iowa Intellect
“You could never look awful,” I assure her.
Giving me a no-nonsense look, she says, “I’m such a puffy-eyed mess from crying half the night that my phone’s facial identification system didn’t recognize me this morning.”
The surprised laugh bursts out of me. The woman doesn’t look as polished as she usually does, but her natural beauty still shines through.
Hoping to sound relatable, I say, “I’ve had that problem before when I’m too battered and bruised for mine to recognize me.”
Now it’s her turn to chuckle, but the half-hearted sound doesn’t ring true. It’s obvious that something is wrong with her, and I’ll do anything in my power to make it better.
Reaching up to rub my rough thumb along the soft skin on her cheek, I ask, “What were you crying about? Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”
One side of her mouth tips up into a sad smile. “You just found out that you aren’t going to be able to do the thing you love most in this world ever again, and you’re worried about how I’m doing?”
“Of course, I’m worried about you, and I’m curious why you’re sad.” I give her a questioning gaze, hoping it will inspire her to share what is wrong.
“I’m sad for you,” she admits.
Her sincere concern makes my heart swell in my chest. Needing to reassure her, I say, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”
“Promise?” she asks, gazing up at me.
“Promise.” I assure her.
Deciding it’s now or never, I pick up on her earlier statement. “Who says that ice hockey is what I love doing the most, anyway?”
Her brows furrow together in obvious confusion. “What could you possibly love doing more than playing ice hockey?”
“Playing with you,” I answer in a soft tone. It’s a lighthearted enough statement that I could be teasing, so I insert extra sincerity into the words to let her know I mean it.
Her gaze darts up to mine. Unasked questions shimmer in her eyes, so I do my best to answer them all by nodding in confirmation of my words.
I can practically see the wheels turning in her brilliant mind just before she tilts her head to the side and says, “But…”
Knowing the all-encompassing truth to my statement, I interrupt her planned objection. “But nothing. It’s true, I’ve suffered a major setback, but there are still amazing things to come in my life. Although I don’t have all of the answers right now, I know that I can figure it out as long as I have you by my side.”
Her eyes are watery as she grins up at me. The warm emotions lighting up her face give me the confidence to continue. “What do you say? Will you be mine, Penny Killer?”
She chuckles at the silly nickname before responding. “I will, as long as you’ll be mine, Penny Collector.”
“Already am,” I assure her before sweeping her into my arms and carrying her into our uncertain, but bright future together.
EPILOGUE - CAROLINE
I’m even more nervous than I thought I’d be about Sparkly Pacifica’s big debut as the intermission entertainment show for the Iowa Gray Hawks. When the team owner called me up to his office on the day of Brock’s head injury, I’d been certain the gruff older man was going to fire me after he mentioned that he was stunned to learn that his team doctor was moonlighting as a mermaid-for-hire.
His offer to buy me a travel tank as long as I agreed to put on shows at the games had absolutely floored me. It’s a dream come true to get to do what I love in front of an enthusiastic crowd of people, except…
I still haven’t told the guys on the team about my alter ego. Brock hasn’t shared my secret with anyone, so tonight’s performance is going to be my big reveal. He has assured me at least a hundred times that the team won’t lose respect for me as their doctor after seeing me in my mermaid ensemble, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s going to cause them to view me as unprofessional.
Tonight’s playoff game is the climax of the season, and I’m certainly not the only one who is jittery. The air is filled with an electrified energy as players pace back and forth, waiting until it’s time to finish suiting up.
Even though Brock isn’t allowed to play, the guys insisted that he’s still a part of the team and should join them in the locker room before the game. He has grown out his beard as a sign of solidarity for the playoffs, and there’s no denying the scruffy look is sexy on him. I might need to suggest that he keep the extra facial hair for a while.
Brock proves that he’s still as much a part of the team as ever by teasing Stoner. “Try not to spend the entire night in the sin bin.”
Stoner glares at Brock before asking, “Where’s your sweater, Brick Man?”
I had suggested that Brock wear his team jersey tonight, but he’d insisted that the privilege should be reserved for active players on the team.
