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“Well, yeah, midway rides and pastries—I love both—but what I’m most excited about is us moving in together.” He adjusted the box in his arms. “No more doubling up on toothbrushes or clothing, or rushing between apartments…”
“It’s been pretty frantic, hasn’t it?” Georgie skimmed her fingers over the hydrangea’s petals. “Although, I did enjoy wearing your dress shirt to work when I forgot mine.”
“And you looked beautiful in it.”
Oliver’s gaze lingered, and Georgie felt every single loving second.
“But waking up with you in my arms each morning”—he nodded wistfully—“that’s what I want, more than anything.”
Those tender moments. Sometimes fleeting, always precious—the little joys that made life sweet. Georgie couldn’t agree more.
Feeling cherished and happy, sharing her days and nights with a man who didn’t want to change or control her, who adored her quirks and how she loved things wholeheartedly? Well, that was the biggest win of all.
“Great minds…” Georgie grinned, grasping Oliver’s arm and slowing them both to a stop. “You’ll be the first thing I see in the morning and the last at night.” She leaned in and met his lips with an unhurried kiss. “I’d say that’s the icing on a pretty spectacular cake.”
FIFTY-TWO
GEORGIE
Months later, Sunday, October 3, 1993
Georgie returned several Hockey Hall of Fame guidebooks to the admission desk and glanced into the concourse of BCE Place, spying a handsome surprise heading her way. Heart fluttering, she broke into a smile. “What are you doing here?”
Beaming, Oliver wrapped his arms around her. “I booked an earlier flight.”
“I’d say.” Georgie tugged on his lapels. “You’re a day early!”
“There was no way in hell I’d miss our first anniversary.”
“Aww!” The woman working behind the desk dissolved into a smitten grin.
“It’s the anniversary of us meeting at the Golden Griddle,” Georgie explained. “I used to wait tables there.”
“Ooh, I love that place.” Georgie’s colleague toyed with her work ID. “Especially the chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Yeah, you might say they’re life-changing…” Oliver glanced back at Georgie, his gaze settling on her lips.
The desire to kiss him the way he deserved surged through her. Gotta get us out of here. Georgie turned to her co-worker. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
“I’m good.” She raised her takeout tea. “I’m still drinking the one you bought me earlier.”
“Okay, I’ll just grab my stuff then.” Clasping Oliver’s hand, Georgie whisked him inside. “How’d you get out of your meeting today?”
“I sweet-talked them into working late yesterday.”
“You charmer!” She grinned.
Oliver studied the celebrated pucks, sticks, and jerseys as they walked through the main exhibit, passing riveted children and their parents. “It didn’t take much convincing. The LA contingent wanted to explore Montréal, so it worked out for everyone.”
Glancing downward, Georgie did a double take. “Wait, where’s your luggage?”
“Across the street in a locker at Union Station. I didn’t think Marché would be happy if I dragged it into the line for potato rösti.”
The Swiss potatoes were a crowd-pleaser at the new market-style restaurant next door to the Hall. Marché’s long lines and eclectic European cuisine had piqued Georgie’s curiosity for weeks. A giddy flutter frolicked in her chest. “Ollie!”
“Happy anniversary, Bug!”
She bit her lip. “It’ll be like eating our way through Belgium and Italy—all in one go!”
