27. Avery
Chapter 27
Avery
“You’re hovering,” my sister says accusingly.
“Why are you here?” I shoot back.
Mom snorts. “Because you have a game to get to.” She glances at her watch. “Avery, you’re going to miss your plane.”
“Let me just check on Lena.” I move back into the bedroom.
“I’m fine, Avery. I promise.” My wife smiles at me. She waves her phone, and I note her abuela on the video call.
“ Hola , Abuela.” I wave.
“ Hola ! Go to your game. I am watching on the computer,” she says in Spanish, waving me away.
Valentina grins. “Her neighbor set her up with some subscription so she can tune into your games.”
“ Gracias , Abuela.” I wave again.
She shoos me away, but a smile curls her lips.
“Abuela, I will call you back,” Valentina says, blowing kisses and ending the call.
She grins at me. Her dark hair pops against the crisp white, linen pillowcase and I’m relieved she has more color in her cheeks now that she’s out of the hospital and settled in our bed. “You have to go. I can’t believe you missed your flight with the team.”
“As if I would ever leave without knowing you’re safe,” I say, dipping to kiss her forehead. “My mom and Raia are here.”
“We’re gonna watch reality television and drink wine. Who cares about football?” Mom hollers.
Valentina smiles.
“Your mom and dad arrive tomorrow,” I remind her. Mr. and Mrs. Garcia were beside themselves when they heard the news of Valentina’s disappearance. As they had already landed in Spain, they bought return tickets to Tennessee and are coming to spend some time with Valentina while I show up for the playoffs.
But right now, the last thing I want to do is board a flight to Detroit.
“You’re going to miss your flight. I promise, Avery, I’m okay. We’re okay. Now go win your game.”
“I’m going,” I grumble, kissing her good-bye.
Valentina waves as I leave our bedroom.
“Go!” Raia says, pushing me toward the front door.
Cohen flew out with the team last night, but I refused to leave until Valentina was discharged from the hospital and safely tucked into our bed at home. Thankfully, Dr. Allen discharged her this morning.
While skipping out on football holds a series of consequences, nothing matters as much as my wife and the life we’re creating. Coach Strauss was understanding that I missed the flight out, but we both know I need to make it to the stadium before kickoff today.
“Thanks for coming, Mom,” I say, kissing my mother good-bye.
She smiles at me. “Any time.” She pats my cheek. “You know that. Good luck tonight.”
I hug Raia, call out one final farewell, and leave the condo.
Then, I head to the airport, fly to Detroit, and vow to win tonight’s game.
Detroit is a tough team but the Coyotes rally in a way that never ceases to amaze me.
“You ready, Cap?” Baglione asks.
“I’m ready,” I say, entering the locker room.
I don’t see any anger or frustration in my teammates’ eyes. Just pure understanding. Even Coaches Strauss and Stevens went easy on me, making sure Valentina was well taken care of before demanding I show up in Michigan.
“Let’s get out there. We’re gonna play hard and we’re gonna win!” I announce.
“Hell yeah, we are!” Gage backs me up.
The team comes together in a huddle, our shoulders bumping as we close our eyes and say a silent prayer. It’s not at all religious—spiritual, I suppose. It’s a minute of prayer, or manifestation, or visualization. It’s a moment of being together and seeing the shared outcome we all desire—tonight’s win.
When I close my eyes, Valentina’s face floats to the forefront of my mind. I’m going to win tonight’s game for her—and then I’m going to go home, wrap her in my arms, and never let her go.
“You did it!” she greets me the moment I walk into our condo.
“ Felicidades , Avery,” Mrs. Garcia says, hugging me hello.
“Mrs. Garcia, hi,” I say.
She pulls away and gives me a long look and then, a genuine smile. “Please, call me Paloma.” She kisses both of my cheeks. “You are part Spanish now.”
I chuckle, a little bewildered by the warm reception.
Mr. Garcia pushes to his feet and walks over to shake my hand. It’s firm but not nearly as crushing as the first time we met. “Well played. That was a good game.”
“Thank you,” I reply.
“We all cheered for you,” my sister says, standing from the sofa. She kisses my cheek. “Congrats, brother! I’m off to see my fiancé!” She shakes her hips.
I groan while Valentina laughs.
“Come,” Mr. Garcia says, gesturing toward his wife. “Let’s give them some time.”
Valentina arches an eyebrow. “So considerate of you, Papá.”
Mr. Garcia lifts a hand. “I can admit when I’ve made a mistake, Vale.” He looks at me. “You are a good man, and we are lucky to have you in the Garcia family.” He holds out his hand.
I smile and shake it again. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia.” I smirk at my wife. “But Valentina could have done better.”
Mr. Garcia stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head, his mind made up. “No, I don’t think that’s true, Avery.” He clasps my shoulder. “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life.”
From the corner of the room, Valentina’s mouth drops open. Even Paloma looks surprised.
“Come to Spain in the off-season. I will take you to a real fútbol match,” he offers.
Valentina snorts.
I laugh. “I’m going to take you up on that, Mr. Garcia.”
“Good. And call me Rueben.” He walks closer to Valentina, bending to kiss the top of her head and to whisper something in Spanish.
Paloma’s eyes soften and she smiles. “He says he’s proud of her.”
Tears gather in Valentina’s eyes, and I know her father’s praise means the world to her. The fact that Rueben gifted her those words as a result of our marriage means everything to me.
I walk them to the front door. “See you tomorrow?”
Paloma nods. “We’re at the hotel just around the corner. Why don’t we bring over breakfast?”
“That sounds good to me,” I say.
Once Valentina’s parents leave, I turn back toward my wife. “How are you feeling, Lena?”
She lifts her arms, and I go willingly, wrapping her in a hug. “Better now that you’re home.”
“You’re eating?”
“Between your mother and mine? Very well.”
“Drinking water?”
She points to the large tumbler on the coffee table. “Raia’s been filling it up for me.”
“Your ankle in pain?”
“Not really,” she promises, moving my chin so she can tip her lips to kiss mine.
I close my eyes as I kiss her back, wanting to take her right here on the couch. God, it’s been too long, and I’ve felt on edge for days. I need the physical connection with Valentina to reassure myself that she’s okay and that we’re solid.
“We need to talk, beautiful,” I murmur.
She shakes her head, brushing her nose against mine. “I think we covered everything that matters.”
“In the hospital, right after you woke up,” I remind her.
She grins. “I remember what we said. We love each other, we’re going to work through things together, and we’re going to be married for always.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask, staring into her eyes to see the truth.
Sincerity shines back at me. “More than anything.”
Relief floods through my veins. The fear of almost losing her—twice—clung to me like a film in Detroit. “Good.” I drop my mouth to hers.
She kisses me passionately, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me closer.
My palm grips her side. “Lena, your ankle.”
“It’s a sprain!” she laughs. “Did a sprained ankle ever stop you from having sex?”
I snort and shake my head. “No.”
“Then make love to me, Avery. I need you,” she murmurs, her voice nearly breathless.
And that is my fucking undoing. What man could say no to his wife—especially when she asks like that?
Careful not to jostle her injured ankle, I lift her from the couch and relocate us to our bedroom.
Then, I lay Valentina down, strip off her clothes, and drink in her beauty.
“You planning on joining me?” she jokes.
Grinning, I tug off my shirt and lose my jeans and boxers. Then, I position myself on top of Valentina, dip my mouth to hers, and kiss her.
I touch and tease and taste, reveling in every second.
It’s sensual and heady. We take our time, our hands tracking, our lips savoring.
She wraps her hand around my cock and sighs in contentment as I pull one pert nipple into my mouth and swirl my tongue over the bud.
“God, I missed you,” she sighs.
“Need you, Lena,” I reply, moving my fingers to cup her sex.
“Take me, Avery,” she begs as I drag my fingers through her wetness.
I spend a few beats playing with her, getting her ready for me. Then, I position myself at her entrance, rock into her slowly, and take my wife all the way home.
Because that’s what we are. Each other’s homes.