“Ilmari? You home?”
Poseidon barks, and I jolt upright. My phone slips off my chest, clattering to the floor. I glance around the dark living room, my eyes pausing on the wall of glass. Outside, a blanket of grey clouds hang heavy and low. Spring in Florida. Cool and rainy, just the way I like it.
I arrived home from practice as the first drops began to fall. When I got inside, the house was empty, which is a rarity. Given our differing schedules, someone is almost always home. Exhausted from a full-body workout, I slid open the glass door and dropped onto the sofa, content to listen to the rain.
Clearly, I must have fallen asleep.
With a groan, I roll to my side, snatching my phone off the floor. My whole body hurts. I’m getting too old for this. The season is nearly over and playoffs are about to begin. Is it wrong of me to secretly hope we don’t advance?
I stretch and yawn, cracking my neck.
“Oh—sorry, babe,” Rachel calls from the kitchen, setting her shopping bags down. The dog dances excitedly around her feet. “Were you asleep?”
“It’s fine,” I reply, checking the time. Nearly five o’clock. I was asleep for almost two hours. No one came home in all that time? Odd. “Where are the others?”
She’s busy moving around the kitchen, opening and shutting cabinets. “Umm…I think they were meeting up with Novy and Morrow for a quick bite.”
I get up from the sofa, doing another stretch. Every muscle feels tight. I’ll sit in the sauna after dinner. Maybe I can convince Jake to give me a massage tonight. He’s damn good at them. But he always demands a string of favors in payment. Last time he made me walk the dog for a week.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” Rachel calls.
I step around the end of the sofa and move towards the kitchen, pausing to take in this side view of my wife. Rachel’s long, brown hair tumbles down her back as she lifts up on her toes, reaching for a high shelf of the cabinet. Her pregnant belly presses against the counter and she winces.
“Let me,” I say, rushing to her side. The dog skitters out of my way.
“Last one,” she replies with a smile, handing me the glass.
I go to take it, but she holds on, our fingers brushing as she reels me in. Our lips press together in a quick kiss. Stepping in next to her, I easily set the glass on the shelf.
“Say, since you’re so strong and soooo good at being helpful…”
I pause, glancing over my shoulder. She’s wearing that look. The look she gets when she’s about to ask me to do something she knows I don’t want to do. It’s equal parts pleading and seductive, like she’ll beg me to fuck her and then I’ll be the one thanking her.
“What do you want?” I say, my tone laced with obstinance. I can’t help myself. She says it’s because I’m an Aries. I know it’s because I’m Finn.
She steps in closer, establishing touch. Her hands stroke up my forearms, her thumb brushing over where her name is tattooed on my skin. Her rounded belly, heavy with our child, presses in at my hip. I groan, fighting her pull. But it’s hopeless. She is the sea siren and I her weary sailor, destined to crash upon her rocks.
“I need your help,” she says, her voice an alluring murmur. “I can’t do it on my own. Not in this condition,” she adds, one hand brushing over her belly.
My senses fill with her scent, the feel of her, the magnetic pull I still feel every time she’s close. She’s not fighting fair. I pull my arms gently loose of her grip. “Just tell me, Rakas.”
With a smirk, she drops her siren act, her voice returning to normal. “I need you to go to IKEA with me.”
My arousal sinks like a lead balloon. “Fuck. Tonight?”
“Come on,” she laughs, placing her hands on my shoulders. “It won’t be that bad. In and out. I just need to pick up a bookcase for the baby’s room. And unless you want me lifting heavy boxes—”
“No,” I growl. “My eight-months-pregnant wife will not be lifting bookcases. I thought we already had one,” I add. It’s not a question. I know we have a bookcase in the baby’s room. I put it together.
“Yeah, but have you seen the way all the books are stacking up? I swear, if Tess buys us one more, we could open our own library.”
“If you tell me what you want, I’ll go get it,” I say, smoothing my hands up her sides. “There’s no need for you to go. Stay here and rest.”
She pulls away with a pout. “But I wanna go. You’re the one who doesn’t like IKEA.”
“There’s too many people,” I reason. “And the aisles are too narrow. And last time that ruffian slammed his cart into your ankle.” My mind floods with the memory of her crying out in pain. She dropped her soda on the floor and we had to find a staff member to go get a mop.
She laughs, waving me off. “Yeah, that hurt like a bitch. But that was one time. I very much doubt that kid will be there again. And if he is, I’ll let you punch him in the head, okay?”
I grumble, knowing she doesn’t mean it. She never lets me do violence on her behalf.
“Besides, you know how much we all love their little chocolate cookies,” she teases. Then she’s leaning in, trailing a soft finger down the bridge of my nose. “And if you’re very good…and you don’t complain about the crowds even once…” She tips up on her toes and whispers in my ear, “I’ll buy you a jar of lingonberry jam.”
I smirk. “You don’t play fair.”
“I have three super competitive husbands,” she replies with a shrug. “I play to win. Carry my coffee while I shop, and I’ll put some of that jam on my nipples when we get home and let you lick it off.”
Now we’re both laughing as I shake my head. “Fuck,” I say, knowing my evening plans have been made for me. “I love you. Even when you manipulate me with your feminine wiles. Especially then,” I add for good measure.
“I know,” she replies with a satisfied smile. “Now go put a shirt on. This show is not for public viewing,” she adds, gesturing at my bare chest.
With a patient sigh, I go in search of my lost shirt. And I feel like I had socks on at one point too…
“See? This is fine,” Rachel says for the third time, leading the way through the IKEA kitchen showroom.
I say nothing, walking dutifully at her side, holding her decaf caramel latte. Why do I need to confirm what we both can see? This is a slow night. There’s hardly anyone else here.
I tried convincing Rachel to take the shortcut straight through to the fulfillment center, but she insists that IKEA is an “experience.” My wife is nearly nine months pregnant with our child. If she wants to wander IKEA on a Thursday night looking at sofa beds and closet organizers, I will hold her coffee.
But she seems a bit unsettled tonight. She usually likes to take her time, sitting in every chair, and we never escape without at least one new kitchen gadget. Tonight, she hardly seems to spare the showrooms a glance. I watch as she peers around, almost as if she’s expecting to see someone she knows around every corner.
I follow her gaze before glancing down at her. “Are you well?”
“Mhmm,” she replies, snatching her hot coffee from my hand. “Yep. Never better.”
“The baby—”
“”Has two more weeks left in the oven,” she replies, cutting me off with a stern look. Her sandals slap as she walks with purpose through the mattress section. She’s practically marching.
My irritation simmers. “At some point you will slow down, yes?” I call after her. It takes nothing to catch up with her on my longer legs. “You will realize you’re about to have a baby and let us care for you?”
This gets her attention and she slows her pace, one hand on her rounded belly as she glances up at me. “You do care for me,” she says with a gentle smile. “All three of you have been amazing. You spoil me silly.”
I frown. “We’d spoil you more if you’d sit down for ten minutes together.”
She hands her coffee back to me with a sigh. “Tomorrow is my last day before maternity leave. And I’ve hardly lifted a finger at work for the past month anyway. Doc Tyler and Hillary fuss over me like a pair of mother hens. The only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m made of glass is Poppy. And the three of you are even worse once I get home—”
“Because you’re pregnant—”
“Yeah, pregnant,” she huffs, hands on her hips. Her beautiful dark eyes flash with annoyance. “I’m not sick, and I’m not dying. In fact, this here—” She waves a hand at her belly. “This is a sign of me thriving, Ilmari. I’m perfectly healthy. Lil Baby No Name is healthy too. I’m as strong as ever and just as capable.”
“Don’t we know it,” I mutter.
She flashes me a grin. “Besides,” she says, her voice suddenly louder. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I was deep-throating you in the shower—”
“Saatana, Rakas,” I grumble, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her to my side as she laughs. “You want everyone to know our business?”
She snorts, pulling my hand from her mouth and lacing our fingers together. “Come on, Bear Man. Don’t forget our deal about the jam either,” she adds with a backwards glance, batting her lashes.
I shake my head with a sigh, following at her side.
As we walk in silence through the children’s section, my bullshit meter starts to buzz. She’s not stopping. My wife has no interest in looking at baby furniture? Rachel “Look How Tiny and Cute” Price isn’t trying to convince me we need a child’s wooden kitchen set? No heated discussion over adding another stuffed animal to the menagerie?
“Rakas,” I mutter, pulling her to a halt. “What is going on—”
“Fuck. Alright, fine,” she huffs. Her entire demeanor changes. She’s no longer holding my hand, she’s clinging to it. Her dark eyes go wide as she gazes up at me. Her nerves set me on edge.
“Rakas, what—”
“I said I’d go along with this, but now I’m panicking,” she says. “Please know how much we all love you, okay? And if you’ll just let this happen, I’ll do anything you want, baby. I’m serious. Anything. Pick your kinkiest fantasy—”
“Rakas—”
“Or chores,” she says. “I’ll get on my knees and scrub every baseboard with soap and water. I’ll clean your hockey gear for a month—”
“Rachel,” I growl, hands on her shoulders. I lower my face closer to hers. “Breathe…then talk to me. What’s wrong?”
She sucks in a breath, holding it in her cheeks. She lets it out in a puff. “Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “Nothing is wrong. Just know we all love you so damn much.” But I know she’s lying. It looks like holding in the truth is about to make her pop like a balloon.
“Rachel—”
“Just come on,” she says, pulling me along. “And remember that, while I may be complicit, I was definitely not the mastermind.”
My heart stops as brain catches up.
Oh fuck. She can’t mean…
We step around the corner into the café and—
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”
I jolt to a halt, confronted by a massive crowd of people shouting all at once. Every single person I know in this city seems to be crowded inside this IKEA. The entire Rays team, their wives and kids, support staff, our neighbors. I even see my favorite barista from the local coffee shop wearing a party hat and blowing a noisemaker.
Above their heads, a massive banner reads “Happy Birthday, Mars!” There are balloons, kids shouting and running, noise poppers…and I’m the center of attention. This is my personal hell. I feel frozen.
Next to me, Rachel squeezes my hand. “You still alive?” she asks, peering up at me. “Remember, I had—”
“Nothing to do with this. Yes, I know,” I say, recovering my breath. I squeeze her hand in reassurance.
The guys all surge forward and there’s one face in the lead wearing a side grin.
“This was allll my idea!” Jake shouts, wrapping me in a big hug. “I fucking love you, man.”
“I know,” I say, just letting it happen. There’ll be no stopping him at this point. Why fight it?
“Dude, he’s fuckin’ pissed,” Novy says with a laugh.
“Told you he would be,” says Morrow. “Hey, man. Happy birthday,” he adds, cuffing my shoulder.
Jake lets me go, turning his attention to Rachel. He wraps her in a quick embrace. “I can’t believe that actually worked. You were so surprised,” he says at me.
“Shoulda seen your face,” Davidson laughs, taking a sip of his fizzy water.
“I was sure you’d break and give us all away,” Jake teases Rachel.
“I nearly did,” she replies, and they all laugh.
Jake slings an arm around my shoulder, pulling me forward. “Come on, old man. Come check out your party.”
I glance around at all the decorations, noting the faces of the bemused IKEA staff, all wandering around in their blue and yellow-striped shirts. “Jake, you know I’m Finnish—”
“Fuck’s sake, Mars,” he grumbles. “Yes, I know. Everyone knows. That house plant knows,” he adds, pointing at a fake plant on the table. “But Finland doesn’t have a furniture superstore with an in-store cafeteria that sells enough salmon and broccoli to feed this crowd. And I looked it up,” he adds, pulling me forward and pointing up at the colorful menu signs. “Everything here is stuff you eat in Finland too. And look at the balloons,” he adds with another point. “Blue and white only. No yellow. I was very strict about that.”
I can’t help but smile, shaking my head.
Langley steps in, slipping a shiny blue party hat on my head. “Happy Birthday, Mars.”
“The cafeteria is ours for the night,” Jake says with a wave of his hand. “Swedish meatballs and salmon for everyone!” He says this loud enough for those around to cheer. Then he leans in, his arm tightening around my shoulders. “And I’m sorry, but the desserts here are total shit, so I got some good cake. It’s over there. And the present table is over there,” he adds, pointing in opposite directions.
I glance between the partygoers and spy see a table piled high with colorful gifts. “Christ—”
Music starts up in the corner and the crowd cheers again. Jake brought a DJ to the IKEA?
Kids run around as Jake keeps me in his orbit, forcing me to make the rounds and greet all my guests. I quickly lose track of Rachel as she flits around too, hugging wives.
Before long, I find myself seated at a table, surrounded by Rays. Jake sweeps up behind me and sets a plate down with a flourish. It’s an IKEA plate of salmon, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. There’s a candle shoved into the salmon fillet. The tip flickers with warm, golden light. As the crowd all surges around me, the Rays closest lead everyone in a chaotic chorus of ‘Happy Birthday.’ I blow the candle out to boisterous cheers.
“Happy birthday, man,” Jake says, leaning down to speak in my ear, both hands squeezing my shoulders. “We love you.” He pecks my cheek with a friendly kiss before turning his attention to Davidson sitting at my side. It’s a scuffle as Jake makes him move, saying that spot is reserved for our pregnant wife. Soon after, Rachel joins us, and I split my salmon with her. And fuck if the cupcakes aren’t damn delicious.
For the next hour, Jake hardly lets me out of his sight. I somehow get roped into playing a bag-tossing game called ‘cornhole.’ When the forwards start taking the game too seriously, it only takes a few carefully placed bad throws on my part to get booted.
I make my escape for the bathroom, as much in search of a moment’s peace as I am a place to relieve myself. I’m washing my hands at the sink when the door creaks open. I glance up to see Caleb walk in.
He pauses just inside the door, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a satisfied smirk, like he knows how much this is killing me. I’ve hardly seen him all night. He’s kept to the edges of the party, quietly standing back or helping the staff clear plates.
“How badly do you wanna leave?”
“It’s fine,” I say, lathering my hands with soap.
He takes a few steps closer. “You say the word, and I’ll get you out of here. There’s an ‘employee only’ corridor just outside that will take us out to the front. I know. I checked.”
We exchange a smirk. “Appreciated, but unnecessary.”
His smile dips slightly. “Why are you so okay with all this?”
I just shrug. “It’s important to Jake.”
He nods, closing the distance between us, his hip leaning against the sink. “Jake loves you,” he says, glancing at my reflection in the mirror, rather than at me. “That’s what this is. This terrible party is because he loves you.”
“I know.”
“He just wants you to see how much you’re loved. By the team, by Jax. He wanted to surround you with the faces of everyone who thinks well of you.”
“I know,” I say again.
“So…you’re not mad?”
I glance over my shoulder at him. His expression is impossible to read. “Why would I be mad?”
“Because this party is your literal hell.”
“Maybe,” I say with a smile. “But I know he means well.”
“He does.” Caleb slips his hand into his back pocket, pulling out an envelope. With a sigh he holds it out to me.
“What’s this?” I say, drying my hands on my pants before I take it.
“The other half of your gift. He coordinated us. Jake wanted this party to be from him. And this is supposed to be from me,” he adds, gesturing at the envelope. “But they’re both from Jake.”
I glance down at the envelope. “Should I open it now?”
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. It’s yours either way.”
I open it, slipping out the few folded papers inside.
“It’s a trip to the Grand Canyon,” he says before I can finish reading the top of what is apparently the receipt for airline tickets. “Jake planned the whole thing,” he adds. “For just the five of us.”
I glance up. “Five?”
“Yeah, he wants it to be Nugget’s first family vacation.”
I smile, glancing back down at the papers.
“He knows how badly you’ve wanted to see it. He planned the whole thing. Sunrise hot air balloon, river cruise, hiking, a spa day. And everything is private. No crowds. No hockey. Just the desert air in your hair. And just us. Just family.”
I nod, emotion thick in my throat. “It’s perfect,” I say, folding the papers and slipping them back inside the envelope. I glance over at Caleb again. “Why did he make you give this to me?”
Caleb shrugs, hands in his pockets. “I think he wanted me to come across as the thoughtful one. You know, for balance.”
“I have no recollection of ever discussing the Grand Canyon with Jake,” I admit, fighting my smile.
“I’m sure you have,” he mutters.
“I’m sure I haven’t,” I reply, folding my arms over my chest to mirror his stance. “I have discussed it with you. Several times. You gave him the idea, didn’t you?”
He shrugs again. “He wanted my opinion. You’re just lucky he went with this one, because my other recommendation was Disney World,” he adds with a grin.
I groan, picturing the five of us wandering Disney World getting stopped every ten feet by someone who wants to take a picture. You’d think after two years the public’s interest in us would wane. We’ve all learned to weather it, but a private vacation with just us and no outside eyes feels perfect.
“Thank you, Caleb.”
He nods. “Happy Birthday, Mars.” He glances over his shoulder towards the door. “We should probably head back out there. Don’t wanna deprive this party of it’s shining star.”
I laugh, even as inside I feel a flutter of confusion deep in my gut. There’s also a flicker of recognition from my newest full-time companion: doubt.
The truth is that I’ve become tired of the spotlight. Tired of the press events. Of answering questions about my health and fitness to play, dissecting all my bad saves and making vague promises about future games. I’m tired of the endless travel, the spinning carousel of home and away games. I’m tired of living out of suitcases and missing my wife so much I can’t breathe.
I’m just tired.
In body.
In spirit.
And our lives are all about to change in such a seismic way. The birth of this child will alter everything. For Rachel—her ability to travel with us, her ability to work, at least at first. For the three of us too. Managing four careers with a child will be difficult to say the least. Caleb is integral to the working of the Rays. I know they’re eyeing him for a promotion to lead Equipment Manager. And Rachel is only a year into her new Assistant Director role. Jake is on fire, playing the best he has in his career.
And here I stand, barely holding myself together—
“Hey,” Caleb murmurs, his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I glance down, following the line of his arm to his face. “Hmm?”
“I lost you there,” he says, his brows lowered over his dark eyes. “You went deep in your head. What’s up?”
I’ve been holding these feelings inside me for weeks. Months. If I was going to tell anyone, it would be Caleb. Jake would try to fix everything and Rachel would take it on as her burden to bear. Caleb will just listen. He’ll let me deal with it in my way.
He inches closer, his hand sliding from my shoulder, down my arm. Outside of sex, it’s rare that he touches me. I’m not ashamed to admit that I like it. His full attention is on me and I feel warm. Safe. Protected.
“Hey,” he says, his voice soft. He’s looking at me like no one else exists. “Talk to me.”
I open my mouth, ready to tell him how I feel—
BANG.
The door behind him goes flying open and Langley ducks his head inside. “Guys—fuck, there you are,” he pants.
Caleb spins around, dropping his hand away from me. “What?”
“It’s Rachel. Get the fuck out here.”
My heart drops from my chest and I’m practically shoving past Caleb to get to the door. We wedge ourselves out at the same time, barreling down the hall and around the corner back into the café. It’s pandemonium.
“Move!” Caleb bellows, pushing forward.
Using my height, I look for her.
“There they are!” Tess calls. “Guys, over here!”
The crowd parts and I see Rachel standing, both hands on her stomach. Jake is next to her, his arm around her shoulders, a panicked look on his face.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he calls. “Get over here.”
“What’s wrong?” says Caleb at the same time I say, “What happened?”
“I’m freaking the fuck out,” Jake cries. “I can’t deal with this on my own!”
A few people laugh as Rachel rolls her eyes, patting his hand like he’s the one in distress. “Angel, I’m fine,” she says. Her ready smile eases my panic.
She’s fine. This is fine. This is—
“You’re not fucking fine,” Jake counters. “You’re having our baby in an IKEA!” He drags a hand through his hair. “Ohmygod, we’re gonna have to name it Flörp or Lörten or something, aren’t we?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” she replies as the wives around him laugh.
But Caleb and I are still in the dark, so none of this is funny. Caleb steps in at her other side. “Someone better tell us what the fuck is going on—”
“She’s having the baby,” Jake replies.
“No, I’m not,” Rachel counters. “Well—I mean, yes—Little Flörp Price is coming,” she teases. “But we’ve got time,” she adds, looking at me. “My water just broke.”
“Oh shit,” says Caleb, suddenly breathless.
“Best birthday present ever, eh, big guy?” says J-Lo, elbowing me in the ribs.
For the second time tonight, I feel frozen. This is happening now? We had weeks yet. I had weeks. To decide. To plan. To make my feelings known. I glance to Caleb, hoping he can see the desperation in my eyes. In a blink, the switch in his brain flips and I audibly sigh with relief, knowing he’ll take care of everything.
“Right,” he barks, stepping away from Rachel. “Party’s over, assholes. Novy, Morrow!”
The guys step forward.
“You’re on clean-up duty,” Caleb orders.
“Got it,” says Morrow with a nod.
Caleb steps around Rachel, fishing in Jake’s pocket. “J-Lo!”
“Yeah, boss?” he says, stepping forward.
“Get our car home,” Caleb replies, tossing him Jake’s car keys. “Get the bags by the front door and bring them to the hospital. And—”
“Bring the dog home with me,” J-Lo finishes for him. “Consider it done.”
“We’ve got Sy,” says his wife, Lauren. “Don’t even worry about him. The girls are thrilled to have him.”
“Just go,” says Langley, stepping in at my other side. “We’ve got everything covered here, guys. Go have that baby.”
The whole party cheers at that, but I barely hear it. My mind is still too busy churning like rapids in a river.
Then Caleb’s face floats in front of me. “Help Jake get Hurricane outside. I’ll pull the car around.”
He turns to leave and I reach out my hand, snatching for his arm. He jerks to a halt, spinning around. “Mars, what—”
“Wait,” I say, heart in my throat. I can’t do this without him here. I need him. He grounds me in a way the other two can’t.
He tugs on his arm, trying to free himself. “Mars—”
“I said, wait,” I growl, pulling him forward. I need Rachel too. And Jake. I need my family.
She smiles at my approach, which shows her excitement. But the tightness of her hand as she takes mine belies her nerves. She needs me too. My family needs me.
Kissing her brow, I keep a tight hold on Caleb as I turn, clearing my voice to address the crowd. “Thank you all for coming out tonight,” I call.
The room hoots and cheers, everyone wearing wide smiles.
“I’ve played on many teams in my long career,” I go on. “But the Rays are special. This isn’t a team, it’s a family,” I say, glancing at all the faces around the room. “I’ve been grateful to be part of it.”
Many people smile and nod.
I glance to Rachel and Jake, making a decision that will affect the rest of our lives. But I know down to my marrow that it’s the right decision. My family needs me now, and I want to be fit enough to be there for them for all the tomorrows we share. They deserve the best of me, not whatever’s left when they scrape me off the ice.
“Ilmari…” Rachel murmurs, her hand tightening in mine, and I know she knows.
“Oh shit,” Caleb says on my other side. He knows too.
Taking a breath, I call out to the room, “Every moment of my career has been a blessing…but I’m done.” My gaze settles on Coach Johnson, standing by the cake table wearing a party hat and a shocked look. “This will be my last season playing professional hockey,” I say, looking right at him. “When this season ends, I’m retiring.”
Silence follows my words as everyone in the cafeteria sits with my announcement.
The dam finally breaks when Novy calls out, “Let’s hear it for Mars Price! Best damn goalie the League has ever seen!”
The cafeteria goes wild, and then everyone is surging forward, hugging and congratulating me. It’s chaos. I’m buffeted on all sides as Caleb and Jake protectively pull Rachel back.
It only lasts a minute or two before Jake is back at my side. “Alright, enough!” he barks, waving people back. “We’ll throw him a banger of a retirement party this summer. For now, all you assholes better make this place look spotless. I don’t want IKEA calling me while I’m at the hospital saying we stole a tray or scuffed the floor.”
“We got it, man,” says Novy. “Just go—”
“Yeah, before Doc does pop that baby out here and now!”
“At least there’s a lot of beds in here—”
“And towels!”
“My wife is not having our baby in an IKEA!” Jake shouts. “So everybody get the fuck outta the way!”
That sentence jerks me out of my stupor. “Mitä vittua,” I curse. My pregnant wife is in labor in an IKEA, and I’m just standing here making speeches. I let go of Caleb and he takes the hint. He tears off across the café, anxious to bring the car around.
Surging forward, I join Jake in taking Rachel by the hands. She seems in good spirits, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy with excitement.
“Good luck!”
“Can’t wait to meet Baby Price!”
“Happy Birthday, Mars!”
The crowd wishes us well as we take off, following the IKEA staffer ready to lead us through the shortcut to the front of the store.
“Jeezus fucking Christ,” Jake grumbles from Rachel’s other side. “You done giving me a heart attack, Mars? You in this now?”
“I’m here,” I reply, voice set with determination.
“And you’re sure?” Rachel says, glancing up at me. “About the retirement? You don’t have to decide anything now—”
“No,” I say quickly. The weight in my chest already feels lighter. I can breathe again. “No, it’s finished. Hockey is finished for me.”
“Shit, I just got goosebumps,” Jake says from her other side. “You sure you’re sure?”
“I’m done,” I say again. “My body is done. I’ve played enough hockey for ten lifetimes. It’s time for a new adventure,” I add, gesturing down to Rachel’s belly.
Rachel smiles. “Full time daddy? I like it. Though you may come to prefer the hockey.”
“Yeah, not to poop on your party, Mars, but tonight’s not really about you anymore,” says Jake. “Rachel and Nugget upstaged you.”
“And I’m sorry for that,” she adds quickly, breathing out through pursed lips. “Couldn’t be helped though.”
“Don’t apologize,” I say. “You are about to have our child. There is no greater gift one could receive.”
Jake just sighs. “And just like that, weeks of planning wasted without such much as a ‘thank you, Jake’ to be heard.”
Rachel laughs again. “We’ll have a do-over in a couple months. I can lure Ilmari here under false pretenses again. Maybe next time we’ll have a bouncy castle.”
She and Jake laugh.
“I have a better idea,” I say, an idea spinning in my mind.
They both glance sharply up at me.
“Okay, with that face, even I’m scared,” says Jake as Rachel laughs again.
I smile. “Caleb’s birthday is in November, yes?”
“Yeeees,” Rachel replies, her dark eyes narrowed on me.
“What say we throw him a Rays birthday party weekend at Disney World? Family friendly. All the parks. Plus the water one.”
Both Rachel and Jake come to a halt, staring at me. Then their faces split into twin grins.
“You’re an evil fucking genius,” says Jake.
“He’ll hate it so much,” Rachel echoes. “Ohmygod—costumes. We can have costumes for each park. Frozen and he can be Olaf—”
“Pleeeease dress him as Peter Pan again,” Jake laughs. “Fuck me, best idea ever. And I still have so much time to plan. You’re amazing, Mars—”
“But baby first,” Rachel says, her breath coming out in a little pant. “At this point, I’ll agree to anything so long as we get this baby outta me first.”
Her wince acts like a shock to our systems and Jake and I switch fully into defense mode. Our wife is in labor. Nothing will stand in our way from getting her safely to the hospital.
“Wait—oh no,” Rachel cries, trying to tug us to a halt.
“What?” I growl.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Jake echoes.
She glances over her shoulder then looks up at me. “Your lingonberry jam. I left the jar on the table.”
“What—jam?” Jake glances between us with a confused frown. “You wanna stop this baby parade over a jar of jam?”
The earnest look in her eyes has me falling in love with her all over again. She’s in labor with my child, and yet she’s genuinely concerned about misplacing a jar of jam.
Swooping down I kiss her, my hand cupping her face possessively. She sighs into the kiss, one hand clinging to my shirt. I quickly pull away. “Forget the jam,” I say. “You’re having our baby. Just focus on that now, joo?”
Tears well in her eyes as she finally lets herself feel the intensity of this moment.
“Have this baby for us, and I’ll buy you a jar of jam for every day of the week.”
Slowly, she nods, sucking in a nervous breath as her hand covers mine. “Yeah.”
Jake glances between us, one brow raised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I echo.
“Alright. Then let’s go, Team Price. We’re doin’ this. It’s baby time.” Jake steps in behind us, his hands on both our shoulders as he gives us a little shove. “No more unscheduled stops, or Cay is gonna get creative and set the building on fire just to smoke us out.”
As soon as Jake says it, I realize we can’t put it past Caleb to take such a drastic measure. Not where Rachel is concerned. “Come,” I say, holding tighter to Rachel’s hand.
Behind me, I hear the anxiety in Jake’s voice as he says, “And we all know I was kidding about the Flörp thing, right? Mars, if this is your baby, please don’t name him Flörp, okay?”
I smile, glancing over my shoulder at him. “No promises.”
“Fuck.”
