After the game and a quick shower, I give an interview to the waiting media before rushing to my car. I haven’t been able to stop smiling, and I’m feeling really damn good about our win tonight.
After climbing into my car, I dial Aubree.
“Hey, baby,” I say as soon as she answers.
She squeals into the phone. “I’m so freaking proud of you!”
I laugh and wave at the security guard Len as I pull out of the arena’s parking garage and then out onto the streets of Vancouver. “I’m not going to lie, that goal in the first felt really fucking good.”
“You’re incredible, babe,” she says, her voice soft and sultry. “I can’t wait for you to get home, because I have a surprise for you.”
As if I needed any more incentive to get home. “Be there in ten.”
We’d looked into buying a house in the suburbs where a couple of my married teammates live, but ended up buying a condo in the heart of the city instead. It’s only a ten-minute drive to the arena, fifteen from our training facility, and Aubree can walk to her office from our building.
Plus, since I travel so much during the season and have to leave Aubree for chunks of time, I like the extra security we have at our building with the doorman, and secure access to our floor. Knowing she’ll be safe when I’m not home makes it a tiny bit easier to leave for away games.
Our place isn’t extravagant, but we have two bedrooms, so if and when our family of two expands, we have the space. And it’s something we’ve been talking about more lately.
When I arrive home, I toss my bag onto the entryway floor and go off in search of Aubree. “Bree?”
There’s a lamp on in the living room, but otherwise the only light is courtesy of the city itself—twinkling headlights on the cars zipping down Highway 1A in the distance, and glittering lights from the nearby high-rises. It’s a pretty city, and I haven’t tired of the view.
“I’m starving, babe. Where are you?” I call out.
“Back here. In the bedroom,” she says.
I turn down the hall just as Aubree emerges from the master bedroom. She’s dressed in a pair of gray boxer shorts, tall fuzzy socks, and a red Rebels sweatshirt.
“Sorry, I wanted to get comfortable. You made it home quick.”
“Absolutely no need to be sorry; you look sexy as hell. Now, get over here. Your husband needs a kiss.”
With a giggle, she steps toward me, and I pull her into my chest. She lifts up on her toes to treat me to a warm kiss.
“I’m hungry,” I murmur against her mouth. “Is my surprise food? Please say it’s food.”
She laughs. “I got you a double serving of ramen. You didn’t see the takeout bag on the counter?”
“Nope. I focused on finding you.”
She shakes her head as her cheeks flush pink. “Come on, let’s feed you. But, no, it’s not the surprise.”
“Hmm, now I’m intrigued.” I follow her into the kitchen, still wondering about what her surprise could be.
“It’s a shame the guys were traveling back to Seattle right after the game,” she says as I help myself to a pair of chopsticks and dig into a gigantic bite of noodles and broth.
“Yeah, I know. It would have been fun to have them over.”
She nods. “Speaking of having people over . . .”
“What?” I give her a questioning look.
“My parents RSVP’d for Thanksgiving. They can come.”
I nod. “That’s great, right?”
She tilts her chin. “And so did your dad.”
“Oh.”
“Yup.” She laughs.
“So we’re doing this? Hosting, I mean?” I say around another mouthful of food.
Shrugging, she steals a shrimp from my steaming bowl of noodles. “It appears so.”
“It’ll be a good thing,” I say, smiling at her.
We’ve been wanting our families to meet for a while now, and have been trying to find a way to make that happen—while also coordinating an international move, the start of the hockey season, and Aubree starting a new job. My mom came up to Vancouver the weekend we moved to meet Aubree for the first time and help us unpack. As I expected, she immediately bonded and fell in love with Aubree. I couldn’t wait for Dad to meet her in person, although they regularly chat on the phone when he calls.
I finish my dinner while Aubree fills me in on her plan for the Thanksgiving meal. Apparently, she’s already recruited Arvi’s wife to help her prep, and there’s something about needing to order new sheets for the guest room.
“Well, that’s some surprise,” I say, placing my now-empty takeout container in the trash.
“Babe, that wasn’t the surprise.” She smiles, her eyes twinkling with happiness.
“It wasn’t?”
She scurries out of the kitchen to retrieve an envelope from the coffee table, which she hands me with a huge grin. It’s from the Insurance Corporation of British Columbia.
“Okay . . .” I turn the envelope over in my hands.
“Open it!” she says excitedly.
I wander into the living room and Aubree follows, plopping down onto the couch beside me wearing a massive smile.
Inside the envelope, glued to a piece of paper, is Aubree’s new Canadian driver’s license. It takes me a minute to understand why she’s so excited about me seeing her driver’s license.
Then I see it, and my heart nearly bursts with happiness.
“Fuck, baby,” I murmur, my eyes meeting hers. “But why?”
She smiles and scoots in closer to me. “For you, my husband. I wanted to give you this.”
I run my thumb over the letters of her new name. Aubree Covington. She changed her name for me. Pride swells within me.
“I thought you weren’t going to.”
We talked about this. Aubree’s an independent woman, and I totally respect that. It was her decision. And now that she’s made it, a different one than I was expecting, my heart feels three times the size it did earlier.
“I like the idea of us having the same name.” She touches my hand, and I open my palm so she can slide her hand into mine. “I always thought I’d be giving something up by changing my last name, but then I realized I wasn’t giving up anything. I was gaining so much in return. Plus, I want to share the same name as the love of my life and the father of my future children. I want us all to have the same name.”
“Mrs. Covington,” I murmur.
The twinkle in her eyes beams bright. “Are you happy?”
“This is the best surprise ever,” I say, leaning over to kiss her.
I’m just so damn happy she chose to do this. I can’t believe we’re the Covingtons. It sounds so official. My brain starts spinning with all kinds of things guys probably aren’t supposed to think about, like monogrammed towels and matching luggage.
Aubree leans in too, planting her hand on my chest, and treats me to a slow, sweet kiss. “Do you know why I love you?”
“Because of my ability to make you orgasm with my tongue, my fingers, and my cock?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Impressive, but no. I love you because you’ve always accepted me just as I am. You let me be me, and figure all this out in my own time.”