Chapter 13
CONNOR
I’m not used to eating this late, but Hadley mentioned earlier that she would be finished at eight tonight, and after meeting her at the park earlier, she seemed a bit more distant than normal. Not frosty around me per usual but lost in thought.
I was in town, running an errand, when I texted to ask if she wanted to grab a bite, and she mentioned she was already at the park.
I took it as an invite, but arriving, I saw that I was interrupting a moment between her and Spencer, and I have no clue what.
She didn’t say much after, and I accepted the silence when I walked her back to her studio.
Glancing down at the stove, I can see the vegetables and chicken are tender for the curry that I’ve made. I grab the small bowl of cashew nuts and toss them in when I hear the door to the garage open, and a minute later, Hadley enters.
“Wow.” Hadley’s voice sounds different. She walks slowly to the other side of the kitchen island and sets her giant water bottle down; the lines on the bottle indicate she is right on track for her hydration scheme. “You cook?” Her brows raise.
I smirk to myself because I aim to impress. “I do. Need to ensure I’m eating good macros during game season. I figured you might have skipped dinner.”
Her brows stay fixed in an arch as she seems taken aback. “You waited for me?”
“Yeah.” I turn the stove off. “It’s a mild yellow curry and rice.”
Her eyes relax, and a warm smile forms as she sits down on the bar stool. “It looks delicious.” A sound rumbles in her throat. “Is this your good-husband thing? Cooking?”
“Maybe.” I wink at her before I dish out the food. I figure we can keep it simple and eat at the counter.
She bites her inner cheek as she watches me place the plate in front of her and remains somewhat in awe that I cook. I find my spot next to her and hand her a fork.
“Okay, here I go, I’m digging in,” she announces before she brings a forkful of food to her mouth to blow on then carefully takes a bite.
Hadley stalls as she chews, watching me, because she knows I’m waiting for my appraisal.
She swallows, and her face stays neutral.
“It’s… good.” Her facial expression relaxes.
“I know.”
“I don’t even want to know what you do when you actually try to impress a girl,” she mentions before her fork dishes up another bite.
I study her for a second while I eat my own bite. “Not this. This is casual-weekday Connor.”
“As opposed to puck-bunny Fridays?”
Ah, so she’s fishing into my dating history.
“Cute. And no, cooking is reserved for wives.”
“You’ve only ever had one wife.”
I point my fork at her. “Smart.”
Hadley sets her fork down and her look of hesitation returns before she surveys the room. “More gifts?”
“Ridiculous, huh?”
“Depends. Are there any big water bottles? I could use a new one.”
I laugh because I appreciate that she doesn’t care for fancy things, she’s all practical.
“You know, other than your ridiculous request for birthday cakes, party dresses, and a dance studio in your house, contrary to what people would assume, you’re not a spoiled princess.”
She rests her chin onto her propped arm. “First off, cake is important for the soul, so it better be good. Second, dresses are key for many situations; weddings, birthdays, proms, impromptu elopements. And finally, the small dance studio in my parents’ house was all my dad’s idea when I was six.”
I scratch my end-of-day stubble on my chin at the mention of her father. He gave me the father-of-the-bride speech the other day, nothing I wasn’t prepared for or couldn’t handle, but our relationship is one of understanding—ensure Hadley has the best life.
“You okay? Seemed like you were kind of out of it after seeing your dad,” I pry.
“I’m fine.” She’s lying, but I let it go.
We stew for a few beats in silence, just playing with our food. I’m not sure we’re that hungry.
But then she does something that catches me off guard. She lunges forward on the chair, cups my face with both hands, and plants her lips on mine.
It takes a moment to digest what is happening, but then I close my eyes and give back as much she gives, which is a lot.
I snake my arm around her middle to keep her close.
Her lips nearly suck the life out of me, it’s a bruising kiss, and we both moan a sound of satisfaction.
She’s fervent and determined, I’m not sure of what, but I’m sure as hell along for the ride. I’m lost in this kiss that she owns.
The sound of our lips parting is what causes me to open my lids and see her swollen lips.
“I’m deciding,” she states. My eyes widen slightly because she has my full attention, and her eyes meet mine. Hers filled with adventure and mine filled with hope. “About you. This husband-and-wife thing, as if we could actually work.”
I swivel my stool to allow me to have her in full view and for my fingertips to rest on her lower arm. “Why not go all in and see if we can prove ourselves wrong?”
An audible breath escapes her lips. “People change, but I don’t want to be on the receiving end if you haven’t. I wanted to make you suffer, and I’m sure you had some other plan too. But the difference between you and me is that I can’t survive you hurting me a second time around.”
I squeeze her arm, because nothing I say will rewind the clock, all I can do is be honest. “I want to prove you wrong. Maybe waking up married was our odd way of getting a fresh start.”
She slides off the chair, leaving my fingers vacant. Hadley walks a few steps before throwing her arms up in the air. “I’m cautious and still deciding,” she gripes and leaves me with the hope that maybe she’s softening to me.
Circling around the Range Rover, I open the door for my wife. She’s busy typing away on her phone, and it kind of annoys me. “I might throw that phone somewhere. You’ve been on it non-stop since we got in the car,” I tell her.
Hadley tosses the phone in her bag, a Spinners tote. “I know, I know. It’s my little brother. He has some biology project for his summer science club he’s taking part in that I need to help him with.” I relax because we both have a soft spot for little brothers.
Offering her my hand, she gently shakes her head and smirks at my effort to be a gentleman, before she slides her palm onto mine and we begin to walk.
Although we parked in a quiet spot behind the training center, in about one minute, we’ll be surrounded by my dad’s marketing team, hockey guys, and puppies.
I’m wearing my jersey, and I’m thankful that she got her jersey less than twenty-four hours after our marriage was announced, because the marketing department acted quick and sent over something for Hadley, and now she’s wearing my number 19 with the word husband on the back.
Paired with her jeans and hair only partly up thanks to her sunglasses, I can only conclude that I’m lucky to have a sexy-fox wife.
“I guess it’s a few photo ops, then I’ll go change for the friendly hockey match. We’re only going to do a one-period game.” It’s for charity, the local shelter where my parents adopted Puck from. A few guys from my team are here, along with a few veterans, including my dad and uncle.
Hadley snorts a laugh. “Isla and the marketing department are geniuses. I’m positive this setup got every female from the 18-35 demographic here within a fifty-mile radius.”
I shrug a shoulder before I open the side door. “Happy to oblige using my good looks if it means it helps a little furball find a home.”
She stops and tips her nose up, giving me a knowing look. “As much as I could call you out, I know that you are actually being noble here. We both know you’re going to milk the attention for the sake of a good cause.”
I bring my hand to my heart. “Most definitely isn’t for the female popularity. I’m a taken and tied-down man now.”
She chuckles under her breath, and I follow her in. Instantly, we see the main entrance covered in balloons and a table to one side with various cookies, both for humans and canines. There is a pen of dogs playing with toys on the other side of the hall.
Already Briggs is holding a yellow Lab puppy, and Shawn is holding a mixed breed that doesn’t appear to be a puppy at all. They smile for the photographer, yet the smile on their faces is purely natural, because how can you not be happy right now?
We are quickly ushered by one of the coordinators to one of the dog pens, and before we know it, I’m holding a mixed Labrador breed that is older, but a hundred pounds is easy for me, so I cradle him like a baby.
Hadley is cooing and rubbing his belly, but the dog just looks at her with a blank stare.
“This dog is way too chill,” I note.
“He seems to be one of the few on this earth that enjoys your company. Isn’t he lovable?” She scratches his chin.
Glancing down at the dog in my arms that’s wearing a bandana and this guy is sucking me in. “I need you to pull the wife card.”
“Wife card?” Hadley wonders.
“Rule the house, tell me no, remind me that we don’t need a dog,” I explain.
She giggles, and the way her hand touches my shoulder feels good. But the last few days she’s been softening around me, and we just… flow.
We ignore the camera going off around us.
“Oh, I have no problem saying no to you,” she jokes. “But I also see cookies over there, so I dunno… priorities.” She slants her shoulders up.
“You two are adorable!” Brianne, one of the wives of a veteran from my dad’s years, says as she greets us, with her meticulous blonde hair. She was young when she married then; I can imagine she still isn’t pushing forty yet.
“Hey, it’s been a long time,” I greet her and bounce the dog gently as I cradle him.
She turns her attention to Hadley. “I’m Brianne O’Shae, my husband is playing today. He used to play for the Spinners. Congratulations, you two! Did the team reach out about the wives’ club? You are in for a wild ride at games. A few rules, but mostly everyone is decent.”
Hadley glances sidelong to me, slightly panicked. “Someone will be in touch, I’m sure,” I say.
She awkwardly smiles to Brianne. “I’m sure we will be fine. I watched my mom handle my dad for a few years before he retired from baseball.”
The bubbly woman in front of us touches Hadley’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s right. You’ll be a pro then. Okay, well, you two are the cutest. Loving the social media boost that it’s giving the team.” She shimmies away, and her burst of sunshine makes us need a second to come down.
Briggs arrives next to me, now dog-free. “How’s married life, you two?”
“Joyous,” Hadley answers, with smile fixed and one-tone voice.
Briggs chuckles, and we both watch Hadley meander on over to the cookie table where Isla is busy checking her tablet.
I make faces at the dog in my arms, and he opens his mouth as if he wants to talk but then nuzzles into my chest. This guy knows how to give marketing what they need; social media will go crazy for this.
“Not going to lie, it’s a little strange seeing you two together and being kind of sweet. I mean, you both always flirted, it was some serious foreplay we all witnessed, but this is… damn. You’re completely into this.” He speaks low so only I can hear.
“I am,” I admit honestly without hesitation.
My friend grins at me. “Maybe this will help keep your head in the game next season.” He nudges my arm because being an ass sometimes is our play.
“I’ll be better. You just need to get laid, and then you can play at my level,” I joke.
“Yeah, this is why you shouldn’t have eloped. I was counting on a hot bridesmaid who needed her night rocked.”
One of the volunteers comes to take the dog out of my arms, and I kind of miss him already as they walk away.
Briggs and I begin to walk toward the locker rooms. “I’m still debating how we can turn this all around and still have a bachelor party post-‘oops I got married,’” he comments.
My lips quirk out. “Are we talking like beers with the boys or full-out ‘Hadley would rip my balls off’ kind of party?”
“You lost your right to strippers when you signed your name in Vegas. Doesn’t mean we all have to suffer,” he teases, but then he turns serious. “Nah, we’ll check out a brewery or something. Your dad and I have already been texting to maybe arrange something.”
“I’m happy my life is turning around everyone’s social calendars,” I quip.
“I bet. Now let’s go play some hockey.”
An hour later, after getting on my equipment, some warming up, some photos with dogs on the ice, and waving to some fans who came out, I find myself near the center line to the right.
This is low-key friendly, so no fancy lights, more of a practice than anything.
I’m playing against my dad and Shawn, plus a few others, so nothing like making this an easy game.
I skate toward my position on the ice, and my sight sidelines to Shawn who is skating next to me.
Shawn begins to speak to me. “I’ve been trying to figure out what wedding gift to get you. I’m thinking a vibrator is probably what your wife needs since she’s with you.”
My blood begins to boil, but I know I need to take the high road. “Classy. Aiming low at a charity game.”
We both line up. Me as right defense on the blue line and Shawn on the opposite side as left defense.
The referee blows the whistle, and my sight focuses on guarding his ass, following him is not my ideal, but I have dogs to save and a wife to impress.
Telling hockey players to play for fun is kind of pointless. The retired veterans have a point to prove that they’re still young, the new players want to show enthusiasm, and wingers just want to be an ass.
We’re five minutes in and every block and chase is making me work.
My only relief is when I notice Hadley sitting in the stands watching me.
It feels like extra support, makes me focus better, and she could be part of my formula to always win.
I ignore any flag in my head about timelines or next season, especially when she wiggles her fingers at me because she caught me looking.
But now we’re going into another play, and Shawn is pissing me off again with his radiating aggression.
“You know, I’m confident if I’d gotten her drunk enough that she would have married me too.”
“Fuck off. That’s not what it is,” I grit out.
“Right. She’d probably spread her legs too.”
I drop my stick and shove him without thought, my protective instinct in full swing. “Do not speak of my wife that way.” My gloves come off.
“Touchy, Spears. I would be too if I had girl with a tight body like that.”
I push him again before all hell breaks loose, and we take turns in headlocks. We scuffle, and the referee blows the whistle before players are ripping us apart.
“Box,” the ref informs me as he brakes on his skates next to me. “Instigating, two-minute penalty.”
Great. I got sent to the penalty box during a charity game.