“No problem. The boy sent a car and driver.” Then he made his eyebrows dance a little, but she knew he probably felt like king of the world about it.

“And how’s Mr. Peabody?” Blayne asked, making sure the name sounded particularly persnickety.

“He still won’t get out from under my couch when I’m home,” Grigori complained. “And I’m not calling that damn dog Mr. Peabody.”

“Then you better come up with something,” she shot back. “Or I’m sticking with Mr. Peabody!”

“Hank,” Marci Luntz cut in. “He calls him Hank.”

Aaaah. Blayne smiled in relief. If Grigori named the pittie, then the newly christened Hank would be safe and now had his “forever home.” Woo-hoo!

“Hi, Marci.” Still holding on to Grigori, Blayne leaned over and kissed the doctor on the cheek. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, dear. Fine. And you look . . . like you’ve been through hell.”

“Only a little.” Blayne shrugged. “We won.”

“Of course you did,” Marci said as if talking to the stupidest woman she’d ever met. “We’re so sorry we couldn’t go to both games, though.”

“No. You’ve gotta be here for Bo. Besides,” she grinned, “I had my—”

“Could you embarrass me more?” her father snarled, moving into the aisle and dropping into the seat Bo had reserved for him, just in case. “Couldn’t you have at least waited until that woman finished her speech?”

“She was taking too long. And don’t snarl at me, old man!”

Marci shook her head and chuckled. “I swear. You two.”

“He started it.”

The crowd roared, and Blayne turned to see that Bo had dropped the gloves and gone at it with one of the bears. She winced when Bo got the bear on the ground and then smashed in his face—repeatedly—with the bear’s own helmet.

“And I heard,” Marci sniffed, “that some people were worried my Bold had gone soft now that he was in love.”

“Who said that?’

In answer to Blayne’s question, Marci glanced over at Dad and then Grigori. Who knew these two jokers would become friends?

“Well,” Blayne began, “I hope you both realize now that”—Blayne jumped when Bo roared and threw the bear he’d been assaulting down the length of the ice, the grizzly slamming right into and through the protective glass—“the chances of him becoming a less aggressive player will probably not happen.”

“I think we see that.” Grigori placed Blayne back into her seat beside Gwen.

Once she was settled, she grinned over at Gwen. “Don’t be jealous I have more bears who love me than you do.”

Gwen laughed. “Shut up.”

They were down to the last twelve seconds, and Bo had the puck again. He was forced toward his own team’s goal, Ric crouching and ready. “What a position to be in for two to three hours,” Blayne thought as she watched Bo trying to find a way out of the pack of bears swarming him. He was keeping the puck away from the other team but he wasn’t scoring either. She glanced at the scoreboard. No one had gotten a goal? Holy shit. The game would go on all night at this rate.

Bo lifted his head and she saw his eyes narrow.

“MacRyrie!” he suddenly called out and, the entire crowd gasping in shock, Bo Novikov slammed that shot at the only one of his teammates not trapped in by a bunch of Alaskan bears. The only one near Lock was one of the opposition’s foxes and, after snapping out of his initial shock, Lock sent the little guy flying before he caught the puck with his stick and sped off down the ice toward the other team’s goal.

The two teams scrambled to follow, but Bo shot out from the rest and was in the goal crease by the time Lock arrived. The grizzly passed the puck to Bo but the goalie was already on him, waiting for that move. A move everyone had made because Bo almost always made the goal. But, with both teams bearing down on him, and two seconds left on the clock, Bo passed the puck right back to Lock.

Startled, the grizzly slapped it away and into the back of the Alaskan goalie’s head. It ricocheted off and into the net. There was a weird moment of shocked silence throughout the entire stadium even as the buzzer went off. Because someone other than The Marauder had made the winning goal in a final playoff game. It had been unheard of for years.

But, for once, Bo had done what was right for the team. And that’s why she was the first one up and screaming, “Yes!” Both her arms raised high in the air. And once Blayne said it, the rest of the crowd joined in. The cheers, roars, howling, and stomping, shaking the walls of the entire sports center and probably freaking out any full-humans on the top floors.

The grizzly stared at Bo, brown eyes wide, mouth open. It probably wasn’t MacRyrie’s first goal, but most likely his first winning goal in a season-final game. Bo grinned and winked at him seconds before the entire New York Carnivores team slammed into the grizzly, swarming over him.

Bo wiped blood off his face and started to skate away, but Van Holtz cut him off.

The wolf removed his goalie mask and said, “Nice.”

Bo nodded. He started to move again, and again Van Holtz moved in front of him. “Should I contact your agent about re-upping your contract?”

Tricky canine. But it was a good time to ask wasn’t it? Not because of the win, though.

Bo looked across the ice to the VIP seating. Blayne was hugging Gwen, the two females still in their derby gear. For once, Bo didn’t feel the need to move on. And the goddamn wolf knew it, too.