“We all deserve to find love and happiness. Enjoy.”
Bailey finished the last day of the market with virtually all his stock gone, and what was left was heading for the Emporium to add to the Bailey Haynes display. I helped him tidy up, put everything back at his place, and then did one last check of the stall.
“And so, another year is done.” Bailey patted the wooden counter and smiled at the empty cabin. They would all be dismantled after Christmas and stored, and then the market space would be for tourist parking, kind of sad, but we all knew the market would be back next year.
He rubbed his belly as it grumbled. “I’m hungry, think you can handle getting food at BB’s?”
“What about the hordes of fans?” I teased, recalling his hesitation before.
He pretended to consider it. “All three of them?”
“Ha freaking ha.”
“You know you’re retired now, right?”
“Whatever,” I snarked, then stole a kiss because he was right there looking all kinds of cute.
The diner had been busier than usual according to Dad, something about the articles that had been appearing around me going home for Christmas, and retiring, and a whole lot of effective marketing off the back of that. Never let it be said that the town of Wishing Tree didn’t market every asset it had.
“I’ll be fine with your adoring fans if I can sit and hold your hand.”
“Maybe throw in a few kisses?” I asked, with hope.
“We’ll see,” he said as he kissed me again in the middle of the market. Yep, that was Bailey, all sass and confidence that had grown over the last three weeks, and he was very definitely all mine.
He locked up for the last time, patting the door. “Let’s go then.”
The Biscuit in the Basket Diner was as much a part of my childhood as loving hockey and annoying Brooke. A shining example of a local place that had grown to become more than somewhere to meet and was now a kitschy destination for the tourists who visited as soon as the snow arrived. Of course, it helped that one entire wall was given over to hockey, and that fans of the Harriers would visit and be able to sit at the Kai Buchanan table, plus eat Harriers’ hockey-themed burgers, alongside as many promo opportunities as my dad could think of.
“Last I heard there was a Kai-Pie,” I mused as we started to walk that way.
“I’ve had it,” Bailey said, and threw me a smile of reassurance, and leaned into me. “It’s very silky,” he whispered, and just like that I wanted to scoop him up and take him back to his place. The intensity of the sex we had was off the charts, and tonight, he’d made me a promise that I couldn’t simply put to one side, which kept me constantly on edge all day. We had condoms, we had lube, and we had a whole night ahead of us.
“What did Archie want?” he asked after a pause.
“He had a TV offer for me.”
“Oh.” Bailey squeezed my hand. “Is that what you want?”
“No.”
“You should think about it, but maybe now isn’t a good time for you to eat pie while you consider your options because TV adds ten pounds you know.”
“There’s nothing to think over.” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m not doing anything that takes me away from Wishing Tree or you.” I had so many things I needed to talk to Bailey about tonight, and not one of them was anything connected to hockey.
“I can’t believe you really mean all of this.” I hated the hint of caution in his tone.
“It’s easy Bailey—I love you and I’m staying in Wishing Tree.” We stopped walking for a moment, and he went up on tiptoes to kiss me.
“I like that idea.”
“Anyway, I have important stuff to do here like ordering a slice of Kai-Pie, and sitting at the Kai Buchanan table, and speaking to all three of my fans.”
He smirked, and I kissed the smirk right off his lips. It turned out we didn’t get much time to talk about us with the questions thrown my way by way too many people who seemed to know who I was given I was sitting under a life-size photo of me with the Stanley Cup.
Why did you retire? they asked. What happened?
To each one of them I just said, it was time.
And when it was obvious that we weren’t going to be left alone, and with the taste of the silky Kai-Pie in my mouth, I decided enough was enough, and Bailey and I needed space to talk. Him pondering whether I meant I was staying made me antsy, and I needed to go somewhere to kiss the doubts away.
“We should go.”
Bailey didn’t argue, following me out of the door, into the bitter wind, and for a few seconds, I was frozen in place, as the enormity of what I was doing hit me. Giving him the silk was one thing, telling him I loved him was something else, but this was yet another step, and I wasn’t sure what he’d say. Grow some balls I told myself, then huffed a laugh because standing out here in the lot behind my dad’s diner I was freezing said balls off, and things were going to end badly if I stayed here much longer.
Stupid ass retired NHL star found frozen only ten feet from Dad’s restaurant. More after this word from our sponsor.
“What’s funny?”
“Let’s go.”
We walked through town, and it became obvious where we were going when we turned and ended up outside the old Robson place that I loved, or rather the new Buchanan place.
“I signed all the final paperwork today,” I announced as I unlocked the door, ushering Bailey in first. The house was warm, and I was glad of the warmth as I removed my coat. “And we need to talk.”
He frowned at me as he removed his coat, and I wanted to kiss the frown away like I had his smirk, only this seemed more important.
“What about?” he asked.
“I get if you’re not ready to say the words, or even if you’re never ready, but I love you, Bailey Haynes. I don’t mean for you to give up any of your independence, but I’d love it if we made this place ours.”
“Kai—”
“Can you love me?”
He blinked at me, “But I do love you,” he whispered, as if the words would be too powerful if he said them out loud.
“You do?”
Then he looked confused. “I never stopped.”
I had to kiss him then, hugged him close, picked him up and whirled him around.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I told him with each kiss.
He laughed. “I love you, too.”
“Move in with me. Stay with me. Let’s do this together.”
He wriggled free of my hold, then turned three-sixty, staring at the ceiling, and into the rooms off the hall. Part of me was horribly twisted up in the thought that he was going to say no, but when he stopped moving and held out a hand to me, all the butterflies in my belly stopped.
“One proviso.”
“Anything.”
“Boots is part of the package.”
The relief was instant—I loved that stupid cat with his purring and scratching at Bailey’s bedroom door, and his apparent desperate need for food on an hourly basis. “That’s a given.”
“I’m guessing there isn’t a bed here yet?”
“No, I thought we could shop for everything together and—”