Page 114 of Penalty Kiss
My eyebrows climb toward my hairline. "Your dad wants to help plan our wedding?"
"I know, right? Apparentlyyourdad made quite an impression when they met last month. Something about 'finally understanding what it means to watch your child choose their own path.'" He does a decent impression of his father's precise, slightly accented English.
The mention of my father makes something warm unfurl in my chest. Julien Delacroix has been true to his word about stepping back and letting me live my life. He calls once a week, asks about the town and my work with genuine interest, and hasn't once mentioned the trust fund he set up or the standing offer to run the Denver office of Delacroix Industries.
"I like the idea of a fall wedding," I say softly. "October, maybe? When the leaves are changing and everything's gold and red."
"Perfect. We can have the reception here, once the facility's finished. Nothing says 'happily ever after' like celebrating in a hockey rink."
I burst out laughing. "Cameron Wilder, are you seriously suggesting we have our wedding reception in your training facility?"
"Our training facility," he corrects with mock solemnity. "And hell yes, I am. Think about it—we'll have the biggest dance floor in three counties, built-in seating, and if Uncle Pete gets too drunk and starts his war stories again, we can just put him in the penalty box."
The mental image of my father's business associates mingling with Cedar Falls locals in a hockey rink is so absurd it circles back to brilliant. "You know what? I actually love that idea."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's perfect. It's us."
He leans across the makeshift desk and kisses me, soft and sweet and tasting like mustard and promises. When he pulls back, his eyes are serious despite the smile on his lips.
"I love you, Taralyn Delacroix."
"I love you too, Cameron Wilder."
The sound of approaching footsteps interrupts the moment, and we spring apart like teenagers caught making out under the bleachers. Levi appears in the doorway, his hair damp with sweat and his Henley clinging to his chest.
"Please tell me you two weren't christening the office," he says with disgust. "We haven't even finished construction yet."
"Just discussing wedding venues," Cam replies innocently.
"In here?" Levi looks around the bare-bones space with its exposed pipes and concrete floor. "You're both certifiably insane."
Levi shakes his head and grabs a bottle of water from the cooler in the corner. "I came to tell you that the league office reps from Breckenridge are here early. They want to walk through the facility before the final inspection tomorrow."
Cam's entire demeanor shifts, the relaxed boyfriend replaced by the focused businessman. It's fascinating to watch, the way he can slide between personas without losing the essential core of who he is.
"How early?"
"They're pulling up now."
"Shit." Cam runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. "I look like I've been wrestling with power tools all morning."
"Because you have been wrestling with power tools all morning," I point out, reaching up to smooth his hair down. "You look fine. You look like a man who's hands-on with his business, which is exactly what they want to see."
He catches my hand, pressing a quick kiss to my palm. "What would I do without you?"
"Probably show up to important meetings covered in ice cream and sawdust."
"Hey, the ice cream was research—"
"Go," I laugh, giving him a gentle push toward the door. "Dazzle them with your vision and your charm. I'll clean up here."
He hesitates for a moment, and I can see the flicker of nerves he's trying to hide. This facility, this team—it's his dream made manifest, and the inspection tomorrow will determine whether the Cedar Falls Chaos… or Rookies, becomes a reality or remains a beautiful possibility.
I step closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in his brown eyes, and let all my confidence, all my faith in him, show in my expression.
"You've got this," I tell him quietly. "You were born for this."
