Bring It Home (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 3)

My chest stings as I take in a deep breath, and Wes glances at me. “You don’t think you broke a rib, do you?”

“Fuck if I know. Let’s win this shit, and we can worry about that later.”

“Agreed,” Aiden says, smacking my shin, and then we notice that the IceCats have called a time-out. “Thank God,” he laughs as we head to the bench. Before we can even get there, Posey is hanging over the bench, shaking her finger at us.

My eyes widen as she points to us. “I need something different. I need someone to do something to win this fucking game! We have three minutes. Make it happen!”

I glance at Aiden as he looks at Wes and me. “Your wife is mean.”

“So mean,” Wes agrees as she leans toward us with her whiteboard.

“They know Brooks is hot. They are on you. You can’t be our winner—you’re dead to us,” she yells, slamming her finger to the whiteboard where she has drawn a bunch of lines and shit. “Hoenes, they are anticipating your shot. They are throwing bodies like it’s nothing. Wes, it’s time for you to do something.”

He looks between all of us, and I know he wants to say something, but he refrains.

“Get to the net, tip something—shit, do anything. I don’t care. Just get a goal and win this!” She looks around at everyone gawking at her. “We got this. Bring it home!”

The whistle blows, and we hand over our drinks before we start to skate to the IceCats’ zone. I feel my heart beating like mad, and when the puck drops, Aiden wins it, passing it to me. I pass it to Wes, who is trying to set up. Trying to do what Posey wants. He goes to move toward the net, but a player cuts him off, sending the puck to the point behind me, where an IceCats player is. I haul fucking ass to catch him as our defensemen try to block him from getting a shot out. When he goes to shoot, I pick his pocket, turning on a whim and passing it up the ice to where I hear Aiden yelling his ass off.

He and Wes are alone.

Holy fuck.

I skate hard toward the other end, watching as Aiden sends the puck to Wes, trapping a defensemen between them. Wes doesn’t have the shot, so he quickly sends it to Aiden. But instead of shooting, Aiden sends it right back to where Wes has the open net.

When the lights go off, I swear I almost fall to my knees.

We won.

We fucking won.

We dog pile Wes, and with tears in my eyes, I think about the fact that I may not have my mom in my life anymore. I know that’s a huge gaping hole that is hard to fill, but as my brothers and I hold one another, crying in relief and excitement, I know I’ll always have a family. When we break apart, my gaze falls on my lovely as she shakes hands with the coaches on the other team. I see her see me, and she starts for me, making sure not to fall. I meet her halfway, picking her up off the ice, and we kiss enthusiastically. When we part, our eyes lock, and even with the screams, the boos, the flying beer cans from angry fans, all I see is her.

My Posey.

My everything.

Chapter Twelve

Posey

“Are we finding out what it is?”

Boon and I look at each other with grins on our faces. We haven’t even discussed if we were going to find out or not. “Do you want to know?”

He nods eagerly. “Should we do a gender reveal?”

I scoff. “We aren’t Shelli and Aiden. Let them do that over-the-top shit.”

He grins. “You’re right. Let’s find out and tell no one!”

I laugh as I hold up my hand, and we high-five. “Good plan.”

Boon kisses my jaw, leaning his head on my chest as we look at the technician. “You know we’ll have to tell my mom,” I mention, and he nods. “She wants to buy stuff, and she really wants us to get a house so she can decorate the nursery. Also, since the guys thought it would be cute to get you a grill for an apartment in a building that does not allow grills on its balconies, we’ll need a place for that since keeping it in the box in our living room is a travesty.”

He gives me a dry look. “We just won the Cup,” he says, pointing to the corner where the Cup keeper and the Stanley Cup are waiting. I feel awful for the Cup keeper; he has to be bored. Though, he doesn’t really speak to us. “Give it a minute.”

“Okay, but we have to tell her, especially because if she finds out the Cup keeper knows before her, she’ll freak.”