Page 380 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

Laughter ripples through the tent.

Liam lowers the microphone by perhaps an inch.

"Better?"

"A little."

He smiles with complete satisfaction.

"As I was saying..." He gestures grandly toward us. "It is my distinct honor to invite Captain—"

Coach clears his throat again.

Liam sighs. "Jamie..." He looks toward my husband with exaggerated patience. "...and his beautiful bride to join us on the dance floor."

Jamie reaches for my hand. "I believe we've been summoned."

"I don't think refusing is an option."

"I was afraid of that."

His grin tells me he's enjoying this far more than he's pretending. The applause grows as we walk toward the center of the dance floor together. Above us, the café lights have begun to glow softly as the afternoon slips toward evening, filling the tent with a warm golden light that makes everything feel somehow gentler.

When the musicians begin to play, the melody washes over me, instantly familiar.

Months ago, after one particularly difficult therapy session, this very song drifted through the rehabilitation room while Jamie struggled through another set of exercises. Neither of us spoke much that afternoon. We simply listened while he stubbornly refused to quit.

I look up at him in surprise. "You remembered."

His smile is quiet. "I remember everything about that day."

Emotion catches unexpectedly in my throat. Of all the songs in the world, he chooses this one. Not because it's popular. Not because it's romantic. Because it's ours.

Without saying another word, he slides one hand gently around my waist. His other hand finds mine with the same quiet certainty it has carried all afternoon.

For just a moment we simply stand there.

The music plays. Neither of us moves. Then Jamie smiles sheepishly.

"I should probably warn you about something."

I laugh softly. "Should I be concerned?"

"I'm an excellent skater."

"I've noticed."

"But dancing..." He winces. "...may be exposing one of my weaknesses."

I can't help smiling.

"I guided you through months of shoulder rehabilitation. I remember every exercise. So, I think I can manage one slow dance with you."

Relief washes dramatically across his face. "That's encouraging."

"It should be." We begin to move, not with polished choreography or graceful turns, but with slow, unhurried steps that fit us perfectly.

What captures my attention is the ease in his smile, the relaxed way he laughs when he steps half a beat behind the music.