Page 122 of Slapshot Obsession
Tucker looks shocked. “She has it? But how could she have possibly?—”
“I had taken it out to put it in the internal pocket of my jacket. And she flew onto the table and snatched it.” Colsen bites out.
“Baety!” Now Tucker looks just as horrified as Nash and Colsen. “You bad, bad girl.”
Someone’s alarm goes off. “Guys, not to make you more nervous than you already are, but this is your alarm to leave. Tucker is right that Baety won’t bite me. Let me help you get what she stole back and then I’ll go get ready for the game. I’m meeting Talia and Jodie for pre game drinks in about one hour.”
“You know what?” Tucker’s tone sounds off. “Don’tworry about it, baby. You go get ready and we’ll take care of Baety. Right guys?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Nash beams.
Colsen immediately backs them up. “Yeah, you go ahead, pretty girl. You don’t want to keep Talia and Jodie waiting. We’ve got this.”
Ok. Now I know they’re hiding something. “Right. But you can’t play in the Stanley Cup final without all your fingers. Let me?—”
“NO!” they all yell.
I jump, not expecting such a vehement reaction. “What did Baety steal? And before you say nothing, let me remind you that we’ve been together for two years and living together full time for one. I know when you guys are lying to me.”
One of Tucker’s hands goes to the back of his neck. “It’s not that, baby. It’s just better if you let us deal with this alone. Trust me?”
I’m about to relent, but Baety slips out of Tucker’s one-handed hold and waddles up to me.
“Quack!” she finally says, and a small, shiny object falls out of her mouth and into my waiting hand.
My mouth pops open as I look at what was in Baety’s mouth. When I said small, it was more a figure of speech, because the diamond on the white band that is on my open palm is so huge it could guide small vessels into harbor in low visibility conditions.
“What the fuck?” I look at my three hot, red-faced boyfriends.
They all deflate, groaning at the sight of the ring in my hand.
“I guess the cat is out of the bag,” Tucker sighs. “Or maybe I should say the duck is out of the bag.”
“Shut up.” Nash and Colsen glower at him.
I’m still trying to find an explanation for this gorgeous ring that isn’t what I think it is. “Were you holding this for a teammate who’s proposing to his girlfriend?”
They look at one another, doing that silent communication thing that works so well for them on the ice.
“No, that ring is ours.” Tucker says softly.
“Or, to be more specific, yours.” Colsen corrects him.
“If you would do us the honor to marry us,” Nash finishes.
My heart is so full that I can’t speak as I look at the three perfect, handsome men who have filled my life with love, laughter and pleasure. But most of all, who would do anything to make me happy and keep me safe.
“Baby, say something? This isn’t the proposal we were planning, but… Baety happened.”
Rather than an answer, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is a question. “How were you planning to propose?”
“If we won the Cup, we were going to bring you to center ice with us and pop the question.” Colsen says.
“If we didn’t win,” Nash offers. “We were going to ask you once we made it back to Star Cove. We have a helicopter booked to take us to the Country Club to spend the weekend where our love story began.”
I finally find my voice again. “You know, guys, both ideas are incredibly romantic. But I think the way it just happened is just perfect for us. And I think Baety just wanted to be a part of the proposal.”
Nash takes my hand in his much larger one. “Maybe you’re right. But now that we asked, would you mind putting us out of our misery and telling us if you’ll marry us or not? Please, Trouble.”
