Epilogue

Mid-December…

The air whitened with every breath Becky took, but the coffee in her hands and Zach’s arms around her kept her warm. She’d had a long day at the office, had almost begged out of the promised trip to the skating rink with Casey, too tired to slip on skates and try to keep up with her energetic little girl.

“Becky, you are mentally exhausted. Physically . . .” He guided her to the front door of their house, helping her dress warmly as though she was just as young as Casey. “You need some exercise. And fresh air.”

She grudgingly agreed, but dug in her heels before they walked out the door. “My skates—”

“Scott has his. Chicklet is going to be there with Jami, Vanek, and Carter. They promised to show Casey how to do a slap shot.” He grinned, rubbing her arms. “We simply have to stand off to the side and cheer her on.”

Becky did just that as Casey swung back and shot at the net, cheering even though Casey had hit the post. Hunt had shown up along with the others, standing in net, pretending to be ready to block the shots. Becky knew he would let them by him, but so far the closest her baby had gotten was the post. And Hunt slid the puck back to her as Scott and Chicklet tried to show Casey how to hold the stick properly and aim.

Casey was on a team, but she’d faked being sick a few times, admitting to Zach, rather than Becky, that she wasn’t as good as the other kids. And a few of the little boys were mean to her because she was a Bower and her uncle didn’t even play anymore. So maybe she wasn’t tough enough to hack it either.

Whatever Zach had said to Casey had her ready to pull on her skates and pick up a stick again. After a few days of practicing, she was getting better at carrying the puck. Could dodge a soft check without losing it. Chicklet was pretty good at pep talks, and she’d told Casey in a loud whisper that she’d been the smallest on her team for the first few years. Until she hit a growth spurt. Then she’d been the biggest and fastest.

With wide eyes, Casey had stared up at Chicklet. Then she’d tightened her grip on her stick and shown how fast she could go without losing the puck.

Backing to the approximate place the blue line would be on a real skating rink, Casey’s small mouth twisted with concentration. She scooped up the puck and skated hard, racing toward Hunt, swinging her stick—then swooping to the left, lifting the puck just like Scott had shown her.

Hunt dove dramatically, right under the puck. It hit the back of the net.

All the men and Chicklet cheered. Becky clapped, shouting “That’s my girl!” Casey stood there with her mouth opened wide. Then she dropped her stick and slid across the ice on her knees, mirroring a move Vanek had done just last week after he’d scored against Philly.

“Did you see, Daddy?” Casey jumped up, almost falling over before skating up to them. She tugged on Zach’s jacket sleeve when his lips parted and he just stared at her, his grip tightening on Becky as she went completely still. “Daddy, Daddy, did you see? I scored against a pro goalie. One of the best in the league. Besides my Uncle Landon of course.”

Zach was still speechless. Coming over to grab one of the coffees, Hunt grinned at Casey, his face red. Chicklet came over to pick Casey up, speaking in a mock whisper, “I think your daddy is stunned. How about you show him again?”

Everyone took their places. This time, Vanek and Jami positioned themselves in front of Hunt, playing defense. Scott passed the puck to Casey, accepted the return, took a shot—Hunt blocked. Vanek slammed into Scott, knocking him on his ass. Chicklet nudged Casey as she went for the rebound. Fell back as Casey pushed by her. Casey poked the puck past Hunt.

Others on the rink who had stopped to watch clapped and Casey grinned, bowing. Vanek helped Scott to his feet, ribbing him affectionately. “Good thing she’s on your team, Demmy, she got more points than you have in the past five games.”

Casey frowned. “Hey, only I get to call him Demmy. He said so.”

“But—” Tyler shut his mouth at Chicklet’s hard look.

Becky covered her mouth with her mittened hand as Casey inclined her head at Chicklet in thanks. Casey was very possessive of the men in her life. She often called them ‘Her Demmy’ and ‘Her Zach’ when they went out and she introduced them to people. Drooling puck bunnies got dirty looks, and both men would politely excuse themselves without even offering autographs to any woman who was too forward in front of her daughter. Or her for that matter. Becky wouldn’t admit it, but she’d done a few searches online and the “bunnies” weren’t happy with how she and her daughter had claimed two of the most sought-after men on the team.

Despite how unconventional their life together was, it fit them all perfectly. But Casey calling Zach “Daddy” was a first. Becky didn’t mind, but she needed to know Zach was comfortable with it. And she had to figure out quickly how to dissuade Casey if he wasn’t.

“Daddy, did you see this time?” Casey skated over, peering up at Zach, something in her eyes causing Becky’s heart to stutter. Casey wanted Zach to take that role in her life. He did in every way that counted, but apparently Casey needed more. Needed to call him something other than his name to show who he was to her.

What do I say if he’s not comfortable with it? A lot of men wouldn’t be. Casey had a father. He just wasn’t part of her life.

Zach cleared his throat. He smiled and bent down to Casey’s level. His eyes were shiny, either from the cold, or with emotion. His tone proved the latter. “I saw, baby. And I’m so proud of you. Come here.”

Casey giggled and threw herself in his arms, holding him tight as he stood. Then she peeked up at Becky. “Is it okay, Mommy? My father won’t be mad, will he? I didn’t think he’d care. He’s not my daddy. Zach is.”

Damn, what’s the right answer?

Jami stood close, shifting from side to side, mouthing “Sorry.”

“Why?” Becky’s eyes narrowed, and she held up one hand, forcing a smile for her baby. “One moment, mon petite.” She turned to the younger woman, pulling her aside. Casey making this decision on her own was one thing, but she didn’t want anyone else influencing it. “Did you tell her to call him—”

“No! Of course not!” Jami shook her head quickly. “She heard me talking on the phone with the woman who gave birth to me. I didn’t realize she’d followed me. I called her ‘mother’ and then sat with Silver for a bit. I swear, I thought Casey was still watching TV.” She bit her bottom lip. “I told Silver that she’s not much older than me, but she’s more of a mom than mine has ever been because she’s the one who’s there for me. I only call her ‘Mommy’ to bug her, but maybe that got Casey thinking . . . fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Becky hugged Jami, then returned to her daughter, who was still in Zach’s arms. She kissed Casey’s cheek, then looked from her to Zach. “As long as it’s okay with him, you may call Zach ‘Daddy.’”

“Is it okay?” Casey leaned back to look into Zach’s eyes. “Can I?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Zach grinned, then kissed Casey’s forehead. “You’re giving me something very special in calling me that.”

“Special enough for you to get a goal tomorrow? Just for me?”

“Just for you.” Zach looked over at Scott as he joined them. “Think you can help me with that—what is it she calls you? ‘Demmy’?”

“Yes,” Casey said, her tone very serious. “Because it’s close to ‘Daddy.’ But it’s just for him. I love you both and I’m very lucky. Grandma said so.”

“She’s right.” Becky shifted so she stood between Scott and Zach, resting her head on Scott’s shoulder as he put his arm around her. She wanted to laugh and cry all at once. How was it even possible that this strange relationship had ended up being exactly what both she and her daughter needed? “We’re both very very lucky.”

Everything she felt was reflected in Scott’s eyes. And in Zach’s. Neither man could have predicted that they’d all be together in the end. So many things could have gone wrong. Things still could; who knew what the future held?

But . . . maybe she did. The beginning and the end was right here, all of them together, smiling and laughing, where they’d been yesterday. Where they’d be tomorrow. This was their life and it was right.

Complete.