Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
The Black Horse Inn was always at full capacity, the diner was booked well in advance, and there was almost always a line outside Henderson’s Bakery and Rise and Grind. It was almost scary to think what it would be like during summer when families came to stay for weeks on end. But we’d prepare as best we could and deal with the crowds in July.
We had a June wedding to plan first.
We both hoped to keep our ceremony smallish, but our guest list included at least a dozen NHL players and their dates, a certain supermodel, a bunch of my friends from LA, and basically the entire town. There was talk of People doing a spread, because let’s be real, the great Kimbo marrying a man was big news.
I didn’t think Vinnie had known what to expect when he put out a brief video statement announcing that he had no intention of un-retiring, and that while he was at it, he might as well come out too. He was bi, in a relationship with a man, and in love. That was that.
But it wasn’t that simple.
Reporters descended on Elmwood to interview anyone and everyone who’d ever known Vinnie Kiminski. The buzz lasted a couple of weeks but died down the way hot news stories tended to. There was a hurricane off the coast of Mexico and some scintillating tale of an actor behaving badly on the set of a popular cable network series. That was life.
His sexuality was the least interesting thing about him, in his opinion. But he was quick to admit it hadn’t been an easy secret to share. I think it made him more cognizant of being an out and proud public figure while he had the public’s interest.
“Fans may forget about me someday, and that’s okay. I want to make sure I leave something meaningful behind. I can do that in this town. I can coach, I can build, I can be the best uncle, friend, son in the world…and the best husband to the man who makes all good things possible. And on days when I’m not my best, I want you to know that I’ll keep trying.”
I didn’t doubt him for a moment.
I brushed snow from his hair and kissed his nose. “I love you.”
Vinnie quirked his lips in a boyish half smile. “Oh, yeah? What’d I do?”
“You’re just…you. You’re a great uncle and the best tree putter-upper in the whole state.”
He rolled his eyes on cue. “I knew I was being buttered up for manual labor.”
“It’s holiday manual labor. Totally different.”
“All right. Then you can suck my candy cane in payment.” He sat on the deck and pulled me beside him so I landed half on his lap.
I snickered, unscrewing the thermos. “Deal. Want some hot chocolate?”
Vin took a sip. “Mmm. This is good. Hot chocolate, our own patch of ice, sharp blades on my skates, a warm house, and the hottest guy in the world who just promised candy cane favors at my side. I don’t think life gets any better, Nol.”
I relaxed against him, sighing in contented agreement. “I agree.”
He squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being mine. You could have taken one look at my sorry ass when I showed up at the rink a year and a half ago and said, ‘Ugh. You again.’ ”
“I did,” I joked. “I still do. But it’s all in the inflection. I don’t say ‘You, again’ and groan. I say… ‘You, again,’ and I smile,” I commented.
Vinnie brought my fingers to his lips. “I like that.”
We passed the thermos between us, chatting amicably about Mary-Kate’s progress, the selection of trees at the lot this year, how long we thought it would take to decorate ours, and whether it was totally necessary to deck out the diner and help Ronnie do the rink this year. I voted yes, but Vinnie wasn’t convinced. If he was being forced to work, he’d need more than candy cane suckage for his troubles.