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The butterflies in my stomach clamor to attention when Colby skates onto the ice. He glances up at the luxury boxes, looking for me. I wave at him like a giddy high schooler, not caring how I look.
It’s hard for the players to see this high up, but whether he sees me or not, he knows I’m here.
Once the puck drops, I lean forward, my full attention on the game. Our second line is playing better than ever since Coach Maddox switched Dom and Ben. Dom is a leader, and the second line had two leaders. What he considered a demotion was really just a realignment. Every offensive line is important at this level. Coach Maddox told me in a private meeting that Dom also needed an attitude adjustment, and from what I’ve heard, the move hasn’t helped.
Sometimes the drama of team ownership is like a soap opera. I wouldn’t change a thing, though.
We win the game 2–1, and I can finally relax. Our backup goalie, Drew Horner, had to take over after Sal was injured in a collision in the third period.
Tony asks an usher to take me down to the tunnel where I can meet up with Colby. As soon as he steps outside the locker room and his eyes find mine, my heart leaps.
He wraps me up in a hug, the smell of his soap and aftershave making me warm all over. Though he looks damn good in his black suit, white dress shirt, and dark blue tie, all I can think about is getting it off of him. Feeling his skin on mine.
He cups my face in his hands and kisses me, gently resting his forehead against mine.
“I missed you, little dove,” he says against my lips.
“I missed you, too.”
“Let’s go to the hotel.”
I nod and he takes my hand, leading me down the hallway. We keep our heads down as photographers snap photos, not saying a word until we’re inside the black SUV that will take us to whatever hotel the front office staff booked for the team this trip.
“Thanks for coming,” he says as I snuggle into his side.
“Thanks for winning and making it worth the trip.”
He laughs and kisses my forehead. “You might not be so glad you came when you see the hotel our cheap-ass owner is putting us up in.”
I gently fake punch him in the stomach. “I happen to know your team owner is a lovely, generous woman.”
“She can be. Unless you take the last Pop-Tart. Then she grows fangs and horns; it’s terrifying.”
I look up at him, my brows arched in amusement. “Own it, Harrison. You didn’t just take the last one, you left the empty box in the pantry. That’s a misdemeanor in some states.”
“You like hardened criminals?” he whispers against my lips.
“How hard are we talking?”
He grins and kisses me, this one more passionate than the one outside the locker room. Our driver is a pro though, acting like we aren’t even here.
The downtown boutique hotel is an old, beautifully restored building with marble floors and modern décor. Colby already has a room key and I already had my bag delivered here, so we take the elevator directly to the room, our hands roaming on the elevator ride.
I have to jog to keep up with him as he directs me to our room with my hand in his. He opens the door, steps inside, and turns to face me before I can follow.
“I need to put this on you,” he says, taking something out of his pocket.
It’s a strip of black fabric, and I give him a puzzled look. “Can I come inside first?”
He reaches toward my face with the fabric. “Not without the blindfold.”
“A blindfold?”
My heart pounds erratically as he covers my eyes. My instinct is to take it off, but I trust him, so I take a deep breath and let him lead me into the room.
The sweet perfume of fresh roses fills my nose. Did he have flowers delivered for me?
I’m grinning like a fool as he takes both my hands and leads me further into the room.
“Okay, give me just a couple of seconds,” he says, clearing his throat.
I wait, the anticipation of his surprise making me giddy.
“You can take the blindfold off now,” he says.
When I do, my jaw drops. Fresh red rose petals cover every surface in the room. The entire floor, the bed, the pillows, the tables. Everything is covered in rose petals. And Colby is down on one knee, a small box in his hand.
Tears pool in my eyes as he takes my hand. “Mila, I know it’s been a whirlwind, and I know I have things to work on, but…” He takes a deep breath and I squeeze his hand. “I love you and I want us to be sitting in front of a fire playing Scrabble fifty years from now. Will you stay married to me?”
