Page 101 of Pucking Secret

Just like I am with Owen.

When the song ends, Grace waves over a waiter and takes two champagne flutes from his tray, handing one to Jensen and carefully tapping hers to get the crowd’s attention. Everyone quiets down, turning toward her with expectant smiles.

“I’d like to make a toast,” she begins, her tone warm and steady. “I know it’s usually traditional to let the parents and the wedding party go first with these, but I have something I want to say and I don’t want to wait to say it.” She looks at Jensen and smiles. “To love. Real, messy, complicated love — the kind that surprises us, frustrates us, and, in the end, teaches us that it’s the best thing we’ll ever fight for. I never thought I’d be the kind of person standing here, giving a toast like this, but life has a funny way of proving us wrong. To all of us who’ve stumbled, doubted,or put up walls… let’s remember that true love doesn’t care about the obstacles we set in its way. It will find us anyway.”

Her gaze lands on Skyler, then me, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Here’s to the women who’ve learned to let it in — and to the men who were brave enough to stand by us while we figured it out.”

The crowd erupts in applause, glasses clinking, and I can’t help but smile. I glance at Owen, who’s already watching me, his expression unreadable but warm.

After dinner, the dance floor becomes a whirl of motion and laughter. Millie is spinning with Skyler, her tiny arms flung out in delight, while Rylee tries to teach Margaret some ridiculous looking dance move. Jayce, Zander, and Wilder are all standing together near the bar, laughing and drinking as they watch the crowd. They’re all still riding the high of their Stanley Cup win, and I can only imagine the wild mischief they’re going to end up getting into tonight.

Owen steps closer, leaning down to my ear. “Let’s take a walk.”

I nod, my heart fluttering.

We stroll along the beach, the sand cool under our bare feet and the waves lapping gently at the shore. The noise of the party fades into the background, leaving just the sound of the ocean and the soft rhythm of our steps.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” I say, my voice tentative.

“Me too,” Owen replies, his tone carrying the same nervous energy.

We stop walking, turning to face each other at the same time.

“Stacey—”

“Owen—”

Our names collide in the air, and we both laugh, the tension breaking for a moment.

“You first,” he says, stepping closer.

“No, you,” I insist, suddenly shy.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I’ve actually been wanting to do this for a long time now.” He suddenly sinks to one knee and pulls a velvet box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. “Stacey Dixon, you are the love of my life. There has never been anyone but you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Millie. I want us to build a life together and grow our family together. So what I want to ask is, well… Stace, will you marry me?”

I blink, stunned, and just as the words settle in, I burst out, “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, we both freeze, the reality of what we’ve both just said hanging between us.

“You’re—”

“You want to?—”

The silence lasts half a beat before Owen stands up and starts laughing, a deep, joyful sound that makes my eyes well up.

“Stacey,” he says, his voice softening, “I love you. I love Millie. I love… all of us.” He places his hands on my waist, pulling me close. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

Tears spill over as I nod, unable to find my voice for several seconds.

Finally, I manage to whisper, “Yes. Yes, I will.”

He pulls me in and gives me a deep, toe-curling kiss.

When we pull apart, he grins. “And you’re pregnant?”

I laugh, wiping at my tears. “Surprise?”

“Best surprise ever.”