Chapter 31
CONNOR
There are two minutes left in the third period. Ryker has managed a shutout, and we are up one goal against New York. I get into position as Bowman barrels down the ice with the puck. Madden is on his tail, trying to steal, but this is Bowman, and his stick-handling skills are second to none.
But I have the benefit of years with him on the ice. I’ve learned every move he has, and I understand his subtle shifts in posture, anticipating what’s next.
“Watch his wrist shot,” Ryker warns.
I see what he’s saying half a second before Bowman makes his move. It’s all the time I need. I manage to deflect it, passing the puck to Romero, who shoots it to Madden.
He takes off down the ice, Stiles and Bright flanking him.
New York’s defense is still trying to get into position.
Madden sees the opportunity, lines it up, and shoots the puck.
It goes wide, but Stiles snags it, passing to me.
I assess the odds. I can pass to Madden, but everyone is on him, and Bowman is in position, so I send a prayer to the hockey gods and take the shot.
Another player tries to intercept it, but instead he taps it with his blade, changing the angle and sending it through the goalie’s five-hole.
Romero and Bright slam into me, whooping and giving me back pats. The last minute of the game is a scramble, but we maintain the shutout and win the game.
It’s a whirlwind after that, and we’re all riding the high of the win when we reach the locker room.
Madden gives me a chin tip. “Nice work out there tonight, Grace. That was a beautiful goal.”
I brush off the compliment. “We would have won regardless.”
“Doesn’t make it any less impressive.”
“He’s right. That was beautiful, and every goal counts,” Romero agrees. “Especially against New York.”
“Thanks.” I nod to Madden.
He grins and pats me on the back. “Maybe it’s the Dred effect.”
“Maybe.” I drop my head to hide my grin and focus on unlacing my skates.
I didn’t want our honeymoon weekend to be over.
I wanted endless days of board games and reading her spicy romance aloud, breakfast in bed, exploring every inch of her body on repeat, making her come, hearing my name tumble from her lips on a whisper, a moan, a plea.
But reality called, and I had to answer.
Two more days and I can get my fill of her again—if she wants me. If she wasn’t just caught up in the honeymoon vibe. Or maybe she was stuck with me for those uninterrupted days and fucking was a way to pass the time.
We shower and change into suits. A couple of the guys suggest grabbing drinks in the lobby bar, but pictures of me at a bar with my teammates a few days after my wedding will bring the vultures out.
Saying no to the team without an explanation, even though no one expects one from me, isn’t helpful.
Mildred is right. If I let them, these guys could be like family.
If I shift my role with my team—and the people Mildred cares about the most—maybe I’ll be so ingrained in her life, she won’t want to give me up.
“I’d love to hang out, but the media are looking for a reason to put me in the headlines.” Whether it’s related to my career is irrelevant. “I’d like to stay out of their viewfinders when potential fans are around.”
Madden nods. If anyone understands the gravity of this, it’s him. “Why don’t we hang in my room then?”
“That sounds good.” I appreciate the pivot.
On the way up to Flip’s room, I check my messages. I have new ones from Mildred. I’ve changed her contact in my phone to reflect our relationship status.
My Darling Wife
Beautiful goal.
Connor
Thanks. How was your day?
My Darling Wife
It was fine. You going out to celebrate the win?
Connor
Heading up to Flip’s room for a bit. But I can stop in mine first if you want a call.
That’s what I should have done in the first place.
My Darling Wife
Don’t do that. Go hang out with the boys. We can talk tomorrow.
Something feels off, and I want to dig around in that message and read into it, but I’m afraid to.
Connor
Everything okay?
My Darling Wife
Just a busy day at work and I’m fading. I’m going to snuggle with your pillow. Have a good night.
Connor
’Night, darling.
The following afternoon, after we’ve landed in Boston and settled into our rooms, we hit the ice for practice, and I decide to pump my coach for information.
Aside from Flip—which I still don’t love thinking about—Lexi is Mildred’s best friend.
If there’s something going on, she might know about it before I do.
I’d like that to change. I’d like to be the person Mildred comes to first with every worry, secret, and piece of good news, but that will take time. And I’m not above digging to ease my own worries.
“Callie has a game tonight, right?” I ask conversationally as Coach Forrest-Hammer and I pass the puck back and forth.
Coach nods. “She does. I’m so grateful that Roman and Hollis can trade off during away games, especially with Fee in university this year. And Dred is a great backup when we need it,” she adds.
“Mildred loves going to her games,” I confirm. “We both do.”
“She does,” Coach Forrest-Hammer agrees. “But it’s a lot to ask, and her circumstances have changed significantly recently.”
“Have you talked to her today?” I ask.
“I talk to her every day.” She arches a brow. “Have you?”
“She’s my wife.” As if that’s an answer. I roll the puck down my stick and pass it to her. “She seem okay to you?”
Coach Forrest-Hammer shrugs. “A little distracted and tired. She mentioned having a bunch of proposals to work on. The wedding stuff has kept her busy, so it might just be catch-up.”
“Right. The last few weeks have been intense.” We’ve been sprinting since she agreed to marry me. Maybe I’m right and now that we’re back to real life, she has regrets—about marrying me, about letting me into her body, about sharing her secrets.
“You could send her something to let her know you’re thinking about her,” Coach suggests.
“That’s a good idea.” And one I should have thought of.
“It doesn’t have to be elaborate.” She flips the puck on her stick before sending it back to me. “Sometimes small and thoughtful can mean more than something extravagant.”
“Noted.”
“You care about her,” Coach says softly.
“Does that surprise you?”
“Just because this started as something else doesn’t mean it can’t change, Connor. Roman and I are proof of that. So are Hemi and Dallas, and Hollis and Hammer, and Rix and Tristan. Where we end up doesn’t have to be defined by where we began.”
I open my mouth, but then Coach Vander Zee skates over, ending that conversation. Still, it hits where it’s meant to. After practice, I check my phone and see that I have new messages.
Meems
You need to take your wife shopping.
Connor
Sure.
Meems
Her pants have holes in them.
On purpose.
Connor
That’s fashionable these days, Meems.
But I do love the idea of spending time with her, watching her try on clothes, dressing her in beautiful things.
Connor
I’ll take her when I get back.