Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I squeeze his hand as Meems talks about Connor growing up, how he did things his own way and when he discovered his passion for hockey. “You’ve been in love with the sport since you picked up a stick, and for a long time nothing mattered more. You lived and breathed it. You took your dream, and against all odds, you made it yours. And then Mildred, Dred”—she smiles—“came into your life, into our lives, and I saw the change in you. I see it now.” She motions to us, Connor sitting with his arm slung casually over the back of my chair, legs crossed. “Dred brings out that soft side of you that I’ve had the privilege of seeing my entire life. She brings so much joy and light and love into our lives and our home.” Meems blinks back tears. “Dred, thank you for coming to us when we needed you the most. Thank you for seeing what I see, for loving my grandson the way he deserves to be loved. I’m so proud to call you my granddaughter.”
I blink tears from my eyes, feeling horrible and wonderful at the same time. I adore her, and the whole point of this is to make her happy, which she is, but what if this act Connor and I have been putting on isn’t one anymore—at least not for me? What if I’m really in love with him?
I don’t have time to dive into a panic spiral, though, because Connor is helping me to my feet. We meet Meems at the podium.
“I love you so much.” I hug her.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.” She kisses my cheek.
Isabelle helps Meems back to her chair while Connor pulls out his pocket square and dabs at my eyes. “We’re in this together, okay?”
I nod.
“You want me to do the talking?”
“Please.”
He keeps his arm around me, tucking me into his side while he adjusts the microphone so it’s at his height. “Mildred and I want to thank all of you for being here to celebrate this special day with us.”
A round of polite applause follows, accompanied by raucous cheers from his teammates.
“Mom and Dad, thank you for so generously hosting this event. It’s fairy-tale worthy, which is what my beautiful wife deserves.” He gazes down at me. “Thank you, Mildred, for making my life so much fuller and for agreeing to be mine. I owe you the world.”
My chin wobbles. I don’t know what’s true and what’s not anymore. But he looks so earnest and handsome, and regardless, he’s given me so much more than I ever expected. He tucks a finger under my chin and presses his lips softly to mine. Maybe for appearances. Maybe because he wants to.
The hall erupts in applause.
The bar opens back up, and the emcee announces the first dance.
Connor leads me to the dance floor and takes my hand in his.
“There are so many eyes on us,” I whisper.
“Just follow my lead.” His palm splays against my back, the heat soaking into my skin, grounding me. “Keep your eyes on mine, okay, darling? It’s you and me against the world.”
I finally understand what it must be like for Flip and the rest of the team—people always watching, always commenting, always having an opinion. And it’s so much worse for Connor, because it’s not just the hockey-watching nation that picks him apart. It’s everyone else, too.
Connor pulls me close as the music begins, and I rest my palm on his thick shoulder. He’s poised and elegant, just like his last name implies. I don’t look anywhere but at him as he spins me around the dance floor, focusing on his gorgeous face.
When the song is over, our friends surround us in a bubble of protection. I loop my arms over Connor’s shoulders, while he links his at my low back, improper and casually affectionate.
“This reminds me of high school dances,” I muse.
“Did you go to many?” Connor sweeps a lock of hair off my cheek.
“Enough to know they were fun, but awkward. How about you?”
He shakes his head. “I usually had my privileges revoked for those kinds of things.”
I can picture him as a sullen teen, angry at the world, lashing out and putting up a fight every step of the way, his arrogance a shield for the acceptance he couldn’t find.
“For creating trouble so other people could stay out of it?” I arch a brow.
“You make me sound altruistic.”
“Aren’t you, though? The hero disguised as the villain,” I muse.
“I’m not sure that’s true, but I like that you think so.”
The song changes, ending the moment, and Flip steps in to dance with me. Connor grabs Callie and spins her around the dance floor.
“That was some speech Connor gave,” Flip says, eyes on mine, assessing, questioning.
“It was,” I agree.
“His Meems loves you, eh?”