Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
My husband and I are both independent people whose careers are important to us. Ford took a year off after his retirement and I only worked part-time that year so we could travel. We went to China, did an African safari, white-water rafted in Alaska and spent three months traveling through Europe by train.
After our year of travel, he accepted a job coaching hockey at the University of Denver. They recruited him hard, telling him he could bring anyone he wanted as his assistant coach. He brought Angela Dornan, a former pro hockey trainer he saw tremendous coaching potential in.
My husband’s hockey program is pretty much year-round. He expects his players at the rink and in the gym even in the off-season. Angela keeps things in motion when we’re traveling like we are now.
Breakfast is once again an incredible gourmet meal. I eat a freshly made omelet, bacon and pineapple. Ford gives me a look as he finishes polishing off a huge plate of eggs, bacon and biscuits and gravy.
“I have to stop,” he says, a note of sadness in his voice.
I smile and rub my palm over his back. Since retiring, he doesn’t burn anywhere near as many calories as he did as a pro hockey player. Age is also slowing his metabolism. He gained twenty-five pounds after retiring and was only able to lose ten with a strict diet and lots of exercise. I tell him I don’t care how much he weighs and that it makes sense for him to not have the physique of a pro hockey player when he no longer is one. It’s hard for him, though.
In the thirteen years we’ve been together, I’ve changed, too. My waistline is thicker and I’m seeing more and more wrinkles in the mirror. Ford still tells me I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. It’s funny how I don’t think I could love him any more, but as time passes, I realize I do.
Seeing the way he lifts other people up, the way he cares for the players on his team like they’re his own children and the way he’s maintained such closeness with his former teammates shows me every day what kind of man he is. The best kind.
Ben and Stella’s seven-year-old son Joey finishes his breakfast quickly, bouncing in his seat until his parents tell him he can leave the table. He races toward the home’s indoor basketball court.
Within a minute, the other kids are either following him or begging their parents for permission to.
The half-court space is great for keeping the young kids occupied on rainy days here. They roller skate, run races and play dodgeball in there.
Stella glances at her phone screen and then turns it over on the table, murmuring something to Ben. They’re expecting a baby through an adoption agency and their birth mother is thirty-five weeks pregnant. Stella worries she’ll miss the call about their birth mother being in labor. She wants to be there if she can.
“Consider this my formal request for a Taboo rematch,” Dom says. “Men vs. women again. Mila and Elle, play an honest game this time.”
I balk and meet Mila’s gaze. We’d never cheat and Dom knows it. He just likes to rile us up.
“We’re just that much better than you are,” I say with a shrug. “Deal with it.”
Mila and I are able to kind of freakishly read each other’s minds, and Tess and Cam are even better at it. The guys, especially Dom, just get too worked up.
“Okay, everyone.” Mila stands and taps a spoon on her water glass to get everyone’s attention. Colby stands next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Today is the official date of Colby’s doctor telling us he was in remission five years ago.” She swallows, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Every one of you was there for us when he was fighting cancer. We love you all and can never thank you enough. I know it’s not easy to make it here for eight days, and we’re so very grateful you all did. We were supposed to be hiking the remains of a volcano today, but we’re going to be stuck in here again instead. But we’re together—” Her voice breaks and she stops to clear her throat. “And that’s all that matters. Please get the drink of your choice and we’ll meet up in the main family room for a toast.”
This celebration of Colby’s health is so lavish that Mila has even hired bartenders. There are one or two of them behind the home’s beautiful main-floor teak bar every day from nine a.m. until two a.m. The Harrison family nanny, Madison, supervises the kids in the gym.
Colby’s illness changed Mila. She doesn’t work nearly as much anymore, and she’s more willing to be vulnerable in front of people other than Colby now. Some of her sharp edges remain, but she wouldn’t be Mila anymore if she went completely soft.