Page 100 of Trade It All

“I didn’t have a speech planned.” A tiny smile touches his mouth. “Clearly. Because if I had planned this, I would’ve done it somewhere with candles and flowers and a ring that cost me a small fortune.”

A watery laugh escapes me. His expression shifts back serious.

“But maybe this is better.” His thumbs brush my skin. “Because nothing about you ever let me prepare.”

My breath catches. “You showed up in my life loud and stubborn and impossible to ignore, and before I knew what was happening…” He shakes his head once, smiling to himself. “You were in everything.”

Tears blur my vision.

“In my mornings when I started looking for your car before I even got out of mine. In my practices when I caught myself searching the stands for you instead of the puck. In my nights when sleep stopped making sense unless you were in my arms.”

My throat tightens painfully. Dean steps closer. Not enough to break protocol. Enough that I can feel his heat.

“I have spent a lot of my life thinking my job was to protect people,” he says, voice lower now. “My players. My team. The things that are mine.”

His jaw flexes. “And then you happened.”

A tear slips down my cheek. His eyes follow it.

“I learned real damn fast that protecting you isn’t a job.” He swallows. “It is the air in my lungs. It is instinct. It is who I am now.”

Oh God. Oh God.

His own eyes shine. “I vow that there will never be a day on this earth that you wonder if you are facing something alone.”

My breathing stutters. “Because if life gets ugly, I will stand in front of it.” Another tear falls. “If you get scared, I will be the place you run.” My lips tremble. “If your heart ever forgets how loved it is, I will remind it until my last breath.”

The room is silent except for my crying. Dean’s voice roughens.

“I vow to love you out loud, Maddie.”

My hand flies to my mouth. He keeps going.

“In every room. In every city. In every hard season and every easy one. I will love you where everyone can see it and where only you can feel it.”

I am openly sobbing now. He gives me the smallest broken smile.

“I vow that no matter how many years we get, no matter how old and mean and gray I become, you will still be the first thing I reach for in the morning and the last thing I thank God for at night.”

A strangled sound leaves me.

“And I vow,” he whispers, squeezing my hands, “that this”—his eyes lock with mine—“this right here will be the safest place you ever know.”

I cannot breathe. Cannot see through the tears. Cannot comprehend how this man is real. Dean leans in the tiniest bit more.

“I loved you before I had the courage to say it,” he murmurs. “I will love you long after I no longer have words for it.”

Silence swallows the room. The officiant dabs at her own eyes. The bride beside us is crying.

Her husband is pretending not to. And I—I am ruined.

Dean lifts one hand, wiping under my eyes with his thumb. “Your turn, Baby.”

A wet laugh escapes me. “How am I supposed to follow that?”

His smile turns soft. “Just tell me the truth.”

The truth. I can do that. I inhale shakily. Look at the man in front of me.