Page 82 of Offside Secrets
“No. I just need you.” I toss the floral bundle onto thecouch and take her face in my hands. “I loveyou, Sutton. I love your fierce independence and your stubborn pride. I love the way you stand firm in what you believe in. I love that you took a chance on me even when it scared you.”
Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Campbell?—”
“I’m not done.” I grin at her. “I love that you claim me in press conferences and kiss me in parking lots and show up at my dad’s house on Christmas Eve looking really hot, and like you belong here. Because you do belong here. With me. Always.”
She reaches up to grip my wrists, her touch warm and steady. “I love you, too,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I love your loyalty and your kindness. I love how you take care of the ones you love, and I love that you make me brave enough to be myself.”
“Even the messy parts?”
“Especially the messy parts. Those are the parts that tell me the most.”
From the kitchen, we hear Sawyer’s voice rising in passionate defense ofDie Hard’sChristmas movie status, and Dad laughing at something he said.
“This is my favorite Christmas,” I tell her quietly. “Right here. You, Dad, Sawyer arguing about movies. The NHL next season. All of it.”
“Mine, too,” she whispers.
“So you know,” I add, “it’s the kind of Christmas I’ve always dreamed about. You’ve made it perfect.”
I kiss her under the twinkling lights of our modest little Christmas tree, and everything feels exactly right. The NHL contract, the future in Alexandria, the woman in my arms who chose me despite every logical reason not to.
When we finally break apart, Sutton rests her forehead against mine.
“You’re mine now, Sutton Mahoney,” I murmur in her ear as she presses her body closer into mine.
She looks at me, her ice blue eyes sparkling like a thousand fairy lights. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
As we head back to the kitchen where Sawyer and Dad are now arguing over which action hero could survive in the wild the longest, I realize something I’ve known for weeks but hadn’t been ready to say out loud: I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Not just with my family, not just in my career—but with her.
Because home isn’t just a place.
It’s the people who make you want to stay...and the one person who makes you believe you could leave and still carry it with you.
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