Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Jesus… my throat closes up and my nose stings. I’m luckily distracted by Juniper giving a tiny sob and my arm goes around her shoulders to pull her into me. I glance over her to see Cannon offering Ava comfort and I’d bet money Drake’s doing the same. But I don’t look that way. Instead, I turn my attention back to the bride and groom as they exchange their rings.
♦
The reception is held in the special events hall of the conservatory. Long tables have been transformed with crisp white tablecloths and black napkins artfully folded atop silver chargers. Lavender accents are thoughtfully placed throughout the venue, from delicate violet uplighting to the centerpieces featuring a medley of white roses, lavender sprigs, and fluttering butterflies made of iridescent material that catch the light. The dance floor, a glossy expanse of black-and-white-checkered marble, is flanked by a stage where a live band is set up, their notes filling the air with popular songs.
Above, a constellation of crystal chandeliers dims to a romantic shimmer, while the glass walls reveal the conservatory’s gardens, lit with thousands of twinkling fairy lights.
We enjoy a meal created by a Michelin Star chef to include appetizers of beluga caviar on blini and terrines of foie gras with a fig compote. I skip the soup, but Juniper declares the white truffle-infused cauliflower velouté one of the best things she’s ever tasted. I can only suppress a shudder—I hate cauliflower with an undying passion.
I’m back on track with a simple baby green salad with edible purple flowers to stick with the color theme and a lavender vinaigrette.
Because this wedding feast is the fanciest, there’s a lemon sorbet intermezzo before our main course of Chateaubriand with black truffle sauce, butter-poached lobster tails and purple asparagus with gold-leaf risotto. I’ve eaten in some of the finest restaurants in the world and as I take my last bite of lobster, I know I’ve eaten one of the best meals of my life.
The long tables hold twenty people on each side, but Juniper and I are seated with Brienne and Drake as well as the entire coaching staff and their significant others. We strive to not discuss hockey, especially with some free agency buzz still floating around, while we sip artisan lavender-infused cocktails.
The evening spreads before us in a symphony of time-honored traditions. There are speeches galore, including one very moving speech by Dominik Carlson, the owner of the Arizona Vengeance, which is where Baden played when he was injured. Many of the Vengeance are here with their wives and girlfriends, but Dominik had an integral part in helping Baden literally get back on his feet as well as giving him the shot he wanted to get back on the ice. Fortuitously for us, Baden chose to come coach for the Titans instead.
Sophie and Baden cut their cake and Juniper whispers, “I almost want to cry for them destroying it.”
She’s not wrong. The multi-tiered cake is the most wondrous piece of confection I’ve ever seen. The base tier is enveloped in smooth, black fondant adorned with intricate white piping that mimics the delicate wrought iron work one might find in the Victorian-era gardens of the conservatory.
Ascending upward, the next layers alternate between pristine white fondant and soft lavender shades, each tier more refined and delicate than the one before. The white tiers are embellished with edible lace designs, painstakingly detailed to emulate the bridal gown’s fabric. The lavender tiers are accented with a lighter lavender hue, dusted with an iridescent powder that catches the fairy lights woven around each base.
Between the tiers, cascading sugar flowers in white and shades of lavender spill down like a botanical waterfall, each petal and leaf handcrafted to perfection.
At the very top, there is no traditional bride and groom but instead a bespoke sculptured heart crafted from fine spun sugar threads so thin, you can see through them.
Sophie and Baden playfully feed each other thin slices, sharing chocolate- and lavender-infused kisses in between.
It’s utter perfection.
Perhaps the type of wedding Juniper and I would have had one day had I chosen her over my career.
After the bride and groom have their dance, the marble floor fills with guests. Most of the music is upbeat and everyone takes their turn grooving to pop and rock songs we all know and can sing by heart. I’m no stranger to dancing and have a great time cutting it up with Juniper and most of the other Titans. Even Drake, who looks more like he’d only condescend to head-bang out to some Megadeth, joins Brienne in the old-school “Macarena.”
I finally decide to make a move on Juniper when the music slows and “Wonderful Tonight” comes on. We’re on the dance floor already, so I take her hand and pull her close, not a request but a demand she share a moment with me.