Page 179 of The Home Grown
It’s noisy as hell, the chatter, and energy from the spectators, forcing me to shout out her name.
And when she turns and locks eyes with me, I rush forward and scoop her up into my arms.
“Oh, my God. You were brilliant,” she says. “You were right … playoff hockey is…”
“Special, right?”
She leans into me, and I kiss her, hot and heavy as always … because there’s no other kiss I can go for.
“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting you outside the back entrance?”
“I needed to see you,” I say, setting her down.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and fumble with a shaky hand to unlock the screen.
“Oh, my god,” she says. “Is this…?”
“Yeah. Just had the email. Well—two emails.”
“Two?”
“Yeah. The first one to say I’m going to Romania.”
She blinks several times.
“Romania? Does that mean you’re in in?”
“Yep. Officially on the roster.”
She squeals. Like actually squeals and throws herself towards me, leaping into my arms.
“And the second email?”
“Yep. From the solicitor. Apologising for taking a while to get back to me … blah blah blah.”
She playfully smacks me on the arm. “And…?”
“Well, what do you think?”
Epilogue
BETTSY
I have four new bruises.One on my calf, another on my ribcage, another on my upper arm, and the fourth’s not technically a bruise—just a lingering ache somewhere lower, a reminder of a very long week without Ellie.
I knew I’d miss her. I just didn’t expect it to hit this hard. Seeing her off at the airport was almost soul-destroying. Having her there to watch one of my Team GB games was great—but it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough.
But now she’s here. Without her travel companion, Jess, this time, so I finally get her all to myself—for a little while, anyway.
“We definitely don’t have time to go home?” I ask, peering at her from the passenger seat.
She picked me up from the airport an hour ago and the second I spotted her in arrivals I abandoned my luggage and flung myself at her. And all I’ve wanted to do since is?—
“No, your mam is desperate to see you,” she says. “And Johnny’s there … and your sisters. I think it’s a bit of a welcome home party.”
“Yeah, but they can wait…” I say, reaching over to run my hand up her thigh.
“Mike—”
