Take Me Home Tonight

Harper stood beneath the biggest chandelier she’d ever seen. Perched high atop a downtown hotel, the ballroom had been transformed into a twinkling sea of stars to match the night sky outside. It was cold out there, the very dead of winter on this New Year’s Eve. Inside was just waiting to fill up with warmth.

It was early, but she’d come over anyway. Paige was at the bar, near the free champagne refills, chatting up some guys. Harper chose the window instead, admiring the landscape of a city she had come to understand in a whole new way. Any minute now, the Penguins would roll in. They were fresh off a loss that afternoon in New Jersey. Still it was a holiday and those boys could turn the game off and life on like a switch. Harper was hoping to learn their trick.

Just six nights ago she had shown up on James’ doorstep. The feeling that had led her there - the assumption he would want her too - seemed tenuous at best, now that she knew what it was like to truly be the object of James’ affection. Harper had thought he liked her before. She had no idea.

They’d spent every night together. It didn’t matter whose house. He turned out to be a talker - afraid, she thought, of being seen to hold anything back. James told her a few redacted stories of girls he’d dated since coming to Pittsburgh, and Harper made a mental list of people she’d like to punch. Sometimes James himself was on the list. He spoke to her like making confession, admitting what he’d done so she would never let him do it again. He definitely had a few things to be sorry for.

Once ten-thirty rolled around, this place would be packed. As it was the open bar had already begun, a quarter of the evening’s ticket holders taking advantage of the early hour. In mid-winter, the Penguins were about as glitzy as Pittsburgh got, so this would be the hottest ticket in town tonight.

Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor behind her, barely audible over the music. But it wasn’t James’ voice.

If Sidney could kick himself and walk at the same time, he’d have done it now. Harper was alone by the window, a sparkly golden dress hugging every curve from shoulder to thigh. It made her long, wavy hair look darker, and she glowed against the night beyond the glass. Sid thought he should have tried harder, and sooner, because he had definitely missed out.

“You are too pretty for him,” Sid said instead of hello.

“And you are too pretty for both of us.” Harper had seen him in their reflection. He wore a black, short-sleeved button-up shirt and jeans, his hair only a few shades darker brown than his eyes. She turned, unable to help herself as she stepped into Sid’s arms and kissed his smooth cheek. It was a gravity trap - inescapable, as if you’d want to - so she didn’t linger. Once free of his embrace, Harper gave Sid a smile.

“So tonight’s the night,” she remembered Sid’s claim that he’d be standing around on New Year’s Eve, waiting to be kissed. The crowd was still thin. “I could fill this place with one Tweet, you know.”

Sid shrugged without looking around the room. “If not, there’s always tomorrow.”

“The optimism of Pittsburgh’s most eligible bachelor,” Harper grinned.

Crosby leaned in and gave her another light kiss on the cheek. “Most eligible backup plan.”

Players began filtering in, approaching their captain and Harper before making their way toward the bar. It was as if the evening’s partygoers had been waiting outside to follow the Penguins upstairs. The place was more than half full before Harper spotten James’ head over the crowd. She was at the bar with Paige, Borts and Beau. James shouldered his way between people, careful to say hello to everyone he passed. He wore a gray dress shirt with red inside the collar, open two buttons and rolled back over his forearms: the colors of his living room. His hair, as messy as any time they’d woken up together, might have been Harper’s favorite part. Nothing slowed his step until his lips were pressed to hers.

If James thought he’d seen everything, it hadn’t been this. From the doorway he’d spotted Harper, tall and slender, sparkling in her sexy slip of a dress. His hands ran up her arms to her neck, over the chain holding the anchor pendant he’d given her, and tipped her head back into the kiss.

“In case anyone here didn’t know,” Paige rolled her eyes.

“Just reminding a few people who do,” James added. He didn’t worry though, not even about Crosby. Not now. Six days with Harper he’d been living the dream and James was aware that keeping it meant trusting her. And gently asserting his territory. He kissed her again, not caring if Sid was even in the room.

“Okay, we get it!” Borts shouted, reaching right over Paige’s head and handing James a drink. They toasted to a new year, new everything. “Try to make it to midnight.”

James lifted an eyebrow. “Give us your keys and we’ll be back by eleven-thirty.”

The party ramped up - Borts insisted on twirling Paige around the dance floor while Beau tried his lines on every girl who walked past. Anne Adams, looking like the proud mom she was, danced with Harper while Craig, James and the boys held court at a table off to one side. When the DJ finally announced the one minute mark, and the sound came on all the TVs broadcasting live from Times Square, Harper felt James’ hands slide around her waist. He put his lips to her ear and counted down from thirty to fifteen. She turned to face him. Ten, nine....

“I love you,” he said.

Six, five...

Harper felt the world close in until it was just the two of them, in the last few moments of a year. The year that taught her home wasn’t just a place, it could be a person.

“Keep this up, and I’ll love you too,” Harper replied.

One.
____

January 7

At nine in the morning, while James slept, Harper snuck out of bed and checked the only new text message on her phone. It was a pre-arranged conversation, one planned the day before in case of emergency.

Sid: I got the call.

Of course he had been first, Steve Yzerman ringing his line at barely daybreak on the winter morning of January 7 to tell Sid he’d been selected to the 2014 Team Canada Men’s Hockey squad. That was a given, like his captaincy. But over paint chips and carpet samples the day before, he and Harper had discussed the real possibility that James would not be selected. Calls would come early, breaking news to players before it broke in the press. Once Sid knew, the clock began to tick.

Harper: Congrats!

Sid: Good luck.

Across town, Sid didn’t mean good luck in terms of James making the team. He meant good luck to Harper handling James either way, especially if he wasn’t selected. Harper and James were having a fairy tale two weeks and, despite any ulterior motives he harbored, Sid hated to see that end. He was getting used to Harper as his friend and decorator, to her daily presence and the changes she was already making. The irony was not lost on Sid - this was exactly how her relationship with James had begun. Too bad Neal had already gotten the happy ending.

Above where Harper stood in the kitchen, James woke just a few minutes later. Her side of his bed was still warm and if he imagined her down in the gorgeous kitchen, making coffee. James knew what day it was Once upon a time, he would have stayed in bed and waited. Now he was the kind of guy who got up and faced life.

Well it is a lot easier now, he thought with a smirk. Harper was in fact making that coffee, wearing a black t-shirt, striped panties with hot pink trim cut high across her backside and a pair of his slouchy, oversized socks. It was a page out of a Victoria’s Secret catalogue: the girl of his dreams, in his kitchen, in his socks. Her hair was twisted into a messy topknot and the smell of vanilla mocha warmed the air.

Harper glanced back to see her favorite version of James approaching: sexy, drowsy, warm. She popped the Keuring open, took the full mug and held it out toward him.

“Sid already heard?” James asked.

Harper pressed her lips together. He was onto their plan.

“Stamkos did too.” James had silenced his phone so as not to wake Harper, just in case. Steven, chosen even with his broken tibia on the mend, had given him an early head’s up. James imagined that Meghan was already congratulating John on his Olympic berth as well. “It’s okay if I don’t.”

“Not to me,” Harper said. She leaned back against the counter, stretching her shirt across her chest in a way that made James hate the idea of going all the way to Russia. “You should be there.”

James had thought a lot about this. “Numbers-wise, yes. But be honest, Harper. That suspension probably killed me. I’ve accepted that. If not this year then there’s always next time.”

“You’ll only be thirty.” Harper had thought about it too.

“And you know what?” He put the mug down and moved toward her. The scowl on her face was adorable - she’d forgiven him, luckily, and wanted the rest of the world to follow suit. After all, Harper had the most the lose. James hoped Hockey Canada would agree, but neither way would be a total loss. “I’d rather have a Stanley Cup. And you.”

“In that order,” she pointed out.

“Well, would you rather go to Russia or the Caribbean? Two weeks is a long time.”

Harper laughed. “I could do Sid’s whole house in two weeks, none of his having opinions and trying to suggest things.”

“Oh no,” James wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands drift over the lace edges of her underwear. “You’re going with me, wherever it is.”
___

EPILOGUE

January 22

Harper adjusted her sweater in the mirror. Her makeup was spread all over James’ bathroom counter, amid most of her other belongings. The sweater was one of her favorites: a tan and white heathered weave in softest cotton, long enough to almost be a tunic, with a high front and a low, dip in the back. Beneath it she wore a white camisole, dark skinny jeans and high camel-colored riding boots. The ensemble complimented her hair and eyes. Her makeup was right. Even her jewelry was cool but she still felt....

“Stunning,” James said from the doorway.

Harper sighed. It had been nothing but butterflies in her stomach for days.

“Why are you so nervous? She’s my what if.”

Harper looked at James in the mirror, always the effortless perfection with the sweaters and the height and the hair. Well, the hair took work. His sink had more product that hers. Still he was like something out of a catalog selling clothes for guys who shouldn’t be wearing any.

Now Meghan, his lifelong friend and only heartbreak, was on her way over with her even more illustrious new hockey boyfriend. Harper had watched a few John Tavares interviews and knew she didn’t have anything to worry about there; he was nice. Surely Meghan would be too. And Harper wasn’t worried James was going to fall back in love with his old flame. Really there was no defense for her nerves except that she still felt them.

“I love you,” James came over and looked down into her eyes. The month since they’d become a couple had not been a dream, except for the part where James had been left off the Olympic team. He’d handled it well that day, but the insult and punishment was not forgotten. Harper didn’t bring it up again but she never left, packing a bag and sleeping at James’ every night until the sting wore off.

Anchor, he’d said. And an anchor she was.

Now Meghan and John were coming to dinner. John had, of course, made the Olympic squad, just like he’d won Meghan’s heart and hand while James was busy fucking things up. Once the Olympic announcement was out of the way, James felt he could really start again. It was a steep climb but he was bent to the task. With Harper’s help.

He kissed her cheek. “I have never felt this way about anyone, not even Meghan, and I can’t wait for my new best friend to meet my old best friend so you guys can talk about how great I am.”

Her face went from soft to skeptical. “Did Paul tell you to say that? The new best friend part?”

“Er, yeah, actually. Damn,” James laughed. He wasn’t getting away with much lately. “How did you know?”

“He used to tell me that he was your best friend, and I better not get greedy.” She turned back toward the mirror. “For a guy no one likes, you’ve got a lot of best friends.”

At two minutes to six to doorbell rang. Of course Tavares would be two minutes early. James hustled to the door and opened it like a palace guard.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Meghan burst in, hugged him, then ran off toward the living room. James stared after her, then looked back at John.

“She’s a little excited” Tavares said in that deep, teacher-y voice. “How’re you doing?”

“Good, man. I’m good.”

Always the type to do the right thing first, John said, “Sorry about the Olympics.”

James shrugged. “Thanks. It sucks, but it’s okay.”

“For what it’s worth, I’d rather have you with us.”

Before James could start feeling like a jerk because Tavares was always so fucking nice, the boys followed the sounds of Meghan’s exclamations into the living room. She pointed out all the obvious features to John, who nodded appreciatively and told her she could do whatever she wanted to their house. Of course.

“Hey, guys.” Harper had been in the kitchen checking on dinner. Unlike Thanksgiving, she and James had ctually cooked this food themselves. She’d only ended up half-naked on the counter once.

James immediately thought he was the luckiest guy on Earth to say what he was about to say. He’d never said it before. “There she is. This is my girlfriend, Harper.”

He was going to pull her into his side but Meghan knocked him right out of the way and hugged Harper like she was a prize at the fair. “Hi, I’m Meghan. God, you’re as pretty as James said. But not fake. I worried he might... and talented too! Did you do all this?”

“Honey,” John said from behind.

Meghan stopped. “Sorry. Sorry! This is John.” She stepped back and let John meet Harper too. It wasn’t easy. After a moment of small talk, Meghan was bouncing on the balls of her feet again. John gave Harper an apologetic look.

“Meghan wants to hire you, I think.”

“I DO!” Meghan cheered. “This summer? Do you travel for work? You can stay with us. With me. We’ll send the boys away.”

Harper could not help laughing. She hadn’t expected such a ridiculously warm welcome. And Meghan was definitely a beauty - long, dark hair in waves, a wicked smile and the greenest eyes Harper had ever seen. No wonder James lost his mind a little. Her boyfriend was predictably dreamy in that way Harper had come to associate with hockey players and their overdeveloped lower bodies. Plus he sounded like a phone sex operator.

“Uh, sure, I can do that. I have a house before then, but I should be done by April,” Harper agreed.

“She says ‘a house.’ She doesn’t say ‘Crosby’s house.’” James clarified. “He’d hate that.”

That drop of information set Meghan off again - she practically dragged Harper up the stairs to show her the rest of the house. James and John headed for the kitchen and popped a couple of beers. They talked about hockey and work and hockey, which was work. Home and friends and everything else seemed to center around it.

“You talk to Stamkos?” John asked. He didn’t mean the broken leg.

“Yeah. Engaged, eh? I guess I’m not surprised.” James’ eyes drifted toward the direction the girls had gone. “Are you gonna....”

“No hurry,” John said. He and Meghan might have repaired their relationship with James, but less than six months ago they’d had to hide it from him. John still had some doubts about the guy.

James expected as much. He’d been thinking a lot about getting this chance. “Listen man, I’m sorry about this summer. I said it before but I didn’t really know. Not till Harper.”

“You tell her?” John asked in typical guy fashion, with as few words about love and feelings as possible.

“I did. I do,” James admitted happily.

This was a far cry from the way summer had ended, when John knew he and Meghan had left James brokenhearted and empty-handed. Today’s smile now wasn’t Neal’s typical arrogance or frivolity. It was all Harper. John saw his own feelings on James’ face, like a mirror. He didn’t have to love the guy to be happy for him now.

“Don’t stop,” John said. “That’s my only advice.”
____

Upstairs, Meghan declared every room her favorite. Harper felt like it was Thanksgiving all over again, showing off her work to someone appreciative. Of course this person was a woman, not Sidney Crosby, though she could also prove very important in Harper’s relationship with James. She had a feeling Meghan was just as aware of that as Sid had been. They were in the bedroom, examining the built-out closet, when Meghan finally brought it up.

“So, you and James.”

“Is that weird for you?”
Meghan stopped opening doors. “Are you after him for his money?”

“No,” Harper said.

“His name, his fame, or this house? Which is actually something worth wanting now?”

Harper repeated, “No.”

“Perfect. Because this would only be weird for me if I had to come in and run you out of James’ life. But he said you were not like that, and I can see it for myself.”

“He said that?” Harper suddenly felt that nervous urge to check her outfit in the mirror again.

The girl with the green eyes, the one James had thrown himself against like a castle wall, gave Harper an honest look. “In his whole life, James has only said, ‘I love you’ to two girls: me and you. And I promise, Harper, he only really meant you.”

Harper’s heart thumped.

“You love him, it’s all over your face,” Meghan said. “I love that you love him.”

“Me too.” Harper’s laugh was a little teary. Meghan stepped up and hugged her, a real best friends kind of hug. Harper had an ally now.
____

Dinner turned out beautifully. They emptied a few bottles of wine, the boys scraped the plates clean and Meghan told endless embarrassing stories about James until Harper couldn’t remember them all. They discussed Steven and Kaylynn’s engagement openly, though Harper noticed Meghan glancing down rather than looking at John. She wondered if they’d talked about marriage, if a ring was imminent. No question Meghan would say yes - and Harper couldn’t blame the girl. This John guy seemed like all the steady and dependable James wanted to be.

Good thing Harper was okay with waiting.

The circumstances of this meal were so strange that James knew he must be really happy, because he felt okay. The girl he’d thought would always be around was here with a guy James had never considered a worthy opponent. In fighting that battle, James had become the enemy. Yet they were happy and he was back in their good graces. He hadn’t lost Meghan forever - he’d never really had her. Now sitting next to him was someone he truly did have. Harper had charmed Meghan and John as easily as she had James that first day, and everyone she’d met since. It wouldn’t be easy to keep up with her.

Good thing James was okay with working.
____

The dark sky was clear, knit with a thousand stars overhead. John set his phone up in the rental car’s console, displaying the circuitous route James had described from his house back to the team’s hotel. John had gone well out of the way but Meghan hadn’t noticed.

“You okay?” he asked.

Meghan was snuggled back against the luxury car’s heated seat. “I have never been so okay. He really loves her, John. Could you feel it? It means I don’t have to worry about him now, because that is someone else’s job. But she won’t have to worry. Watch, being in love will change him.”

“It changes everyone.”

“Not you,” she said playfully. “You were always perfect.”

He reached a spot high on the escarpment overlooking the city. John pulled off the street into a darkened parking area near the famous Incline, right where James said it would be.

“This is beautiful.” Meghan leaned forward in her seat.

“Come on, you have to see the sky too.” John opened the door to a blast of cold air. The temperature seemed to make everything sparkle brighter. Meghan meeped as she got out and ran around to tuck herself under John’s arm. Below, lights and bridges spanned patches of darkness, some of them reflecting back the twinkling bulbs. It looked like the sky was underneath them too.

“I was going to wait to do this,” John said. “But now seems like a good time.”

“We can’t wait, we’re leaving tomor-” Meghan saw movement from the corner of her eye and followed it around. She gasped.

John would never forget the look of surprise when she saw the little box he’d been carrying around for weeks. He had to back up a step to get down on one knee. Then he opened the clasped top; inside a ring inside glittered like one of the stars and lights surrounding them.

“I had a whole speech,” he said weakly.

Meghan, still frozen and not by the cold, nearly fainted at the sight of that silly, lopsided grin. Between her and John’s smile was a simple and stunning diamond: a white gold band with a single chunk of princess cut stone that could only have been bought by a guy who had no idea how big it was. The ring was traditional and spectacular at the same time, just like John.

“I love you, Meghan. I hope I’ve proven that I’ll do anything to be with you. We can be engaged for ten years if you want, but someday, whenever you’re ready, will you marry me?”

Her breath made the word itself visible. “Yes. John, of course!”

It was a tense moment of John extracting the ring with cold fingers and Meghan holding her icy hand still enough for him to put it on. When he did, it slipped all the way to the base of her finger like it wanted to stay there forever. He stood and she kissed him until they forgot it was the middle of the winter in the middle of the night. Behind his neck, Meghan flexed her hand with the new ring on it.

“Oh my God.” Tears welled in her eyes, the moment catching up with her mind. “Why now?”

He pushed the hair back from her face and held her rosy cheeks. “Because six months ago was too soon, I didn’t want to freak you out.”

She laughed, hiccupping on the very of crying. “James just asked me about it before Christmas, I told him that was too soon!”

“Well,” John said, “James did tell me about this place.”
____

Back at the house, the dishes were in the sink. Leftovers were in the fridge and a few empty wine bottles awaited recycling. Also in the kitchen, ignoring everything but each other, were James and Harper. “She’s so beautiful,” Harper teased as James moved his kiss down her neck. “I’m glad I didn’t meet her sooner, I might have been worried.”

“If I’d met you sooner, I never would’ve had to worry about them.” He rubbed his soft scruff against her skin. “And you don’t either. Ever.”

As he said it, the phone in his back pocket vibrated. Harper’s hands were somewhere in that vicinity; she made the squeak noise of surprise James loved so much. But he didn’t need to see the screen to know the message.

“They’re engaged.”

“WHAT?!” Harper jumped back. “RIGHT NOW?!”

James nodded, a huge, stupid smile breaking across his face. John had stuttered getting the words out - just a moment after dispensing advice on love, it was almost as if he were asking James for permission one last time. James still thought it was crazy. He still thought Stamkos was crazy for doing the same thing. Only now James understood how crazy might just be a good thing, if the girl looking back at you was along for the ride.

“OH MY GOD!” Harper shrieked. She wished she’d known - but then what? She couldn’t have said anything. But she couldn’t have resisted. This Meghan girl seemed so... already like a friend. Someone Harper trusted. Meghan had been through fifteen years with James, and was still here hoping the guy could make good on his life. How could Harper not love her too?

Engagement, though. That was something else. Without an inkling of discretion or discomfort, Harper launched into her inner monologue. “He had the ring with him here? Has he been carrying it around? Did he show it to you?!”

Her mind and her mouth screeched to a halt at the same time. It wasn’t cool to be someone’s new girlfriend and going Defcon One over a marriage proposal like you thought about one every day. Also, this wasn’t just someone. It was Meghan. She lifted her hand to James’ face and brushed back his hair. “Oh, James. I’m sorry. Are you okay with this?”

James was surprised how fine he felt. He’d lost his chance with Meghan long ago - maybe never had one. Now at least he knew she’d be cared for. It also served to magnify James’ feelings for Harper. He’d seen John and Meghan on Long Island two months ago - even then, this news would have sent him into a tailspin. But now that his own possible future was a real, beautiful person, it was easier for James to let go of his past. So when John asked if he should do it tonight, James told him the same thing he told Harper.

“Yes. As long as he did it right.”

Harper went top speed again. “I hope he took her up to the Incline! It’s so clear out, it would be amazing up there tonight. You could see everything.”

“I thought the same thing.”

“But he wouldn’t know....”

James couldn’t believe this himself. “I told him.”
____

EPILOGUE Part 2 (Bonus Round)

Harper lifted one hand in slow-motion and covered her face. It wasn’t to hide her reaction from James. It was to hide it from a two hundred other people at Matt Niskanen’s wedding.

High summer had come to Minnesota, bringing warmth to the north, and Matt and his bride had put together an outstanding ceremony in their hometown. Not many of their teammates were present, summer time off being in full swing. Plus Matt, while well-liked, had left the ‘Burgh for the last time as a Penguin. Unrestricted free agency would bring him big money and a new jersey. Of course James, veteran of two teams with Nisky, had made the trip. And Harper.

Now bad news had found them far from home.

“Nashville,” James said. They had retreated outside the main tent of the outdoor reception. Glasses clinked and music blasted, people nearby were eating cake like the floor hadn’t just disappeared beneath their feet. This was as far as James could get before breaking the news to Harper.

Traded. It was James’ nightmare, his sins popping up to haunt him long after the crimes were committed. Of course there had been rumors. Media speculated about everyone all the time so James ignored it. Maybe he’d ignored other things too. Word now was that his teammates and coaches hadn’t liked him much, that he’d been a bad egg in the locker room. He glanced toward the head table where Nisky and his bride kissed amidst the din of forks pinging glasses. Had anyone asked Matt?

Deep down, James knew he had avoided the issue for the biggest reason: Harper. She’d poured her heart and soul into his house, transforming him in the process. To be told, all of a sudden and over the dessert course, that it was all for nothing because he’d never be going back? His hands were on her shoulders now, just in case.

“I’m sorry, baby.” James pulled her into his arms. He’d learned in six months together that she hated to be called that, so he did it all the time. He figured she’d come around.

Harper’s heart took its time restarting. When it finally beat, it felt like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, stomping too close to a car full of kids.

“No. No no no. James. This happens. It’s just - hockey. It happens.”

“It does. But....” How was he supposed to tell her that he’d done this to himself, to them, before they’d even been a couple?

“It happened once already, right?” Harper went on.

If there was a part of this worse than the trade, worse than the reason, it was this. “Pittsburgh was a dream come true, though. Now, it’s....”

“Nashville.”

They let that hang in the air between them for a moment. Harper kept her eyes on James’. They managed to be blue even in the near-darkness and that, if nothing else, was never going to change.

“So what’s wrong with Nashville?” she asked. “You don’t like country music?”

“Harper.” He smiled for the first time since his phone rang.

She saw it and kept going. “Careful, Neal. I am from the South. Just because I moved to Yankee territory, don’t think for a minute I don’t know all the words to every Garth Brooks song.”

“Okay.”

“I can drive a truck, I own boots,” she ticked off her fingers.

“Wait, are you....”

“I can fry chicken, obviously I can stereotype people based on where they live....”

James squeezed her arms. “Are you saying you want to come with me?”

Harper stopped mid-sentence. She felt like he’d poked a hole in her lung, rendering her unable to draw air no matter how deeply she breathed. He was traded, he was leaving, he was.... “Were you not going to ask me?”

“Of course,” James blurted. “Of course, I want you to come. I didn’t think you’d - I mean, your house - my house - I didn’t think....”

Inhaaaaaaaaaaaale. All the colors came back into Harper’s vision.

“It’s just a house, James.”

She hated saying that. It rendered her hard work - their work - just a job. James had tied so much of his identity and progress to his house; it was like a storyboard of every day they’d known each other. Now she was telling him it wasn’t a big deal.

Well, not as big a deal.

“Nashville has houses.” She stepped closer. There were a lot of memories to choose from. “Houses with bathrooms to paint,” - like the first room they’d tackled - “art to hang,” - like that time Paul interrupted them standing way too close - “and lots, and lots of bedrooms to decorate.”

Across the wedding, at the head table, someone stepped up and whispered to Matt. His wide eyes immediately scanned the room, panicked for his friend and for the bad mood it would cast over his own wedding. Neal wasn’t on the dance floor or among the tables. He must already know. Matt was about to get up when he spotted James and Harper, just outside the tent’s open side.

They were kissing.

** the end **

Notes

Ta da! When a story is over I can never believe how long I've been writing it, but this one is different. I can't believe how involved you all were! So many comments! It means the world to any writer to hear a lot of feedback on their stories, and you all shaped this one more than you know. I hardly ever know the end of a story when I start it, and I never know how I'm going to get there. Thank you so much for liking this story and helping it turn out the way it did.

I'm taking a break from writing - a long one, possibly the whole hockey season. We'll see. I'm certainly not out of ideas, and I have you guys to make sure they count.

LOVE!
J