Chapter 23
twenty-three
. . .
Al
I’ve never been so fucking happy to go away for a road trip.
Things have been tense with Riley since our improvised date night.
The evening I’d hoped would end with us taking our relationship to the next level ended with her withdrawing from me even further.
I guess it was too much to hope that we were on the same page.
Except last night… my bed felt empty. It’s been a long time since I had an overnight bed guest, and even longer since I had a partner I slept beside with any regularity.
Years. Typically I prefer to sleep alone.
Back in Arizona, I slept around a fair bit, but once I signed with Boston, once I was surrounded by family sticking their nose into my business all the time, I made the conscious decision not to bring anyone home, and they’d be invasively nosy if I didn’t come home at night.
It was easier not to. The last person I slept with was… Carter.
I’m not sure why I pulled Riley into my room, only that I didn’t want to be by myself. Which is kind of ridiculous, because I like being on my own. I like being able to starfish in the middle of the bed. I like not having to worry about jostling anyone else, or my snoring keeping them up.
So why did one night change everything I’ve ever known about myself?
We agreed I’d take care of Emmy’s nighttime feeds on nights I’m home, so I didn’t expect to see Riley at two o’clock in the morning. But when I crawled back into my bed, a buzzing sounded from the room next door.
A very distinct kind of vibration, a steady buzz buzz buzz.
Followed by a moan, breathy and light.
My cock went rock hard in seconds, the rush of blood leaving me light-headed. I definitely didn’t shove my hand down my pants and jerk off at the thought of my wife getting herself off with a vibrator only a few feet away.
I did not.
But I wanted to. I wanted to know what she was thinking about. Who she was thinking about.
It wasn’t me, that’s for certain. I might have a healthy dose of self-confidence, but I’m not so full of myself as to think she’d be interested in me that way.
If she were, she wouldn’t need to think about calling off the divorce.
Maybe I should have waited to bring it up.
It’s still a year or two away; so much can change between now and then.
I don’t only want to be married to her, though. I want to date her, spend time with her. For our business transaction to be an actual relationship.
And she… doesn’t feel the same. It’s a kick in the nuts.
“What’s wrong?” Chuck Gallagher, my future brother-in-law, sets a cup of coffee on the table in front of me.
We’re playing Denver tonight, and ever since my brother started dating his sister, we’ve made it a point to hang out when we’re in the same city.
After all, we’re family now… or we will be, once Tony gets off his ass and proposes.
I don’t know what he’s waiting for. The ring is already sitting in his sock drawer.
Then again, I’m more of a rip-off-the-bandage type and can’t wait for a perfect moment.
I shake my head. “Just… thoughts.”
“Is this about the wife or the kid?” He slurps noisily at his coffee. “How was the date night?”
“How do you know about that?” The only person I’ve told was…
He shrugs. “Cari and I chat.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re talking to my little sister?”
He and I were in the same draft class, so while we went to a few of the same hockey summer camps, we were never really friends.
He played college hockey in the Big 10 and I was part of Hockey East, so aside from one year at the Frozen Four tournament where we both lost, our hockey social circles didn’t overlap.
We were both passed over for the last Olympic training camp, and neither of us made the national team for the big international tournament—something my brother likes to rub in my face.
“I mean, one day she’ll be my sister, too, in a way.”
“I don’t think you understand how family systems work,” I mutter. “You don’t become siblings like that.”
“Okay, so fine, technically she’ll be Viv’s sister-in-law, not mine, but she’s my family. I get to choose who’s part of my family, and I’m picking her, just like I’m picking you,” Chuck says with a grin. “You fuckers won’t be able to get rid of me.”
Tapping the side of my coffee cup against his in a lukewarm cheers, I force a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He snickers and settles back in his chair. “So. Tell me about the wife. I want to meet her next time I’m up in Boston.”
“She’s…” I blow out a breath. “I really fucking like her.”
I wish that was enough, but I don’t think I have the words to describe how I feel about her.
“Riley’s sassy and sure of herself, but not in a self-centered kind of way.
Like she knows what she wants and goes after it.
” Although lately, her entire world has been childcare and playdates.
I don’t know that she has any time for herself when I’m not there to give her breaks.
“She built up a successful career in Arizona and left it at the drop of a hat to take care of my kid. Our kid. And fuck, man, she’s so good with Emmy.
That baby adores her. She should. I know I do. ”
My face flushes and I clamp my lips together. Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.
His loud laughter draws attention in the small coffee shop, and I pull the brim of my cap lower, hiding my face. I’m not ashamed of being seen with him, but hockey gossip will label me a traitor for daring to spend time with a guy on the rival team off the ice.
“Do you have photos?”
I stare at him. “You want to see pictures of my kid?”
His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Yeah. She’s basically my niece, isn’t she? Babies are great. Don’t want one right now, but eventually, I want an entire hockey team.”
“Start with one and see how it goes,” I warn, pulling out my phone. I swipe to the album and hand it over.
Chuck hums as he flicks through the first few photos. “Cute kid. She has your eyes.”
“She’s so sweet. And smart. And she has this little cackle laugh that—” I cut myself off. “I could go on all day about her.”
“As you should. If a man can’t be proud of his kid, he’s a shit dad.
” Chuck hands me back my phone. “You’re doing good, man.
You were thrown for a loop and you stepped up.
Yeah, marrying the baby mama, if that’s what you want to call it, is an extra step, but you did what you had to do for your family. ”
Shaking my head, I debate glossing over the details, but the truth is going to get out one way or the other. I can’t ask Tony and Viv to hide the circumstances from their family. “Riley’s not the baby mama, but she is Emmy’s mom now. I couldn’t separate them even if I wanted to.”
“So don’t.”
Frustration simmers right below my skin, and I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “Except when I suggested we table the divorce, she freaked out.”
“The divorce that isn’t supposed to happen for another year or two?” He gives me a knowing grin.
My eyes narrow as I glare at him, even though he’s not the one spilling secrets. I want to punch the smug look off his stupid face. “Just how much is Cari telling you?”
“Like I said, we talk. She’s a nice kid. Fits right in between Frankie and Janine.”
His two younger sisters. Janine is a few years older than Cari, and Frankie is about a year and a half younger. Five of the six Gallagher siblings are professional athletes. His twin, Perry, plays football, and only the youngest sibling, Bradley, isn’t involved in sports.
“Well, I’m glad she has you looking out for her.” Even if I’m peeved about her sharing details she shouldn’t be giving out so freely. Then again, there are worse things than Chuck Gallagher knowing my business. I know he would never use it against me.
“Maybe Riley needs some time to get used to things. It can’t be easy to leave everything you’ve ever known for some guy who travels half the time, settle into a routine in his house, taking care of his kid, and he suddenly wants to flip the script.
Keep doing what you’re doing. Take her on dates.
Go out without the baby, do stuff as a family…
” He shrugs. “Fuck if I know, I don’t have a kid or a wife.
Can’t convince anyone to stick around long enough to try. ”
Running my thumb over the ring on my left hand, I consider his advice. “We go out when I’m home. Or, I suggest it, but she never initiates anything. It’s all me.”
“She’s probably afraid of getting turned down,” he says slowly. “I mean, you know our schedules. Even our days off aren’t truly free. And then coordinating it with the baby’s routine… If she’s the slightest bit uncertain how she feels, it makes sense for her to withdraw.”
I sigh, running my hand through my hair. “I want her to want me, even half as much as I want her.”
“Is it only physical? Or do you actually have feelings for this woman?”
“It’s not physical. Not purely, at least.” The attraction simmering in my veins whenever I see her is only part of the puzzle.
How do I act on it without scaring her away, or worse, ruining the fragile relationship we have?
“I want us to be married for real. I want us to be a family, and not just for the cameras.”
“You want your happily ever after, and you’re trying to push the misshapen pieces into a mold that might not actually fit.” Chuck stares at me, then lets out a short laugh. “Have you tried simply dating your wife? Taking it one step at a time.”
I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine, but I’ll take his advice at face value.
“That’s what I was trying to do. We spent the day together, then I cooked for us and did the candles and wine thing, and she shot me down. I put myself out there. She’s not interested.”
He cocks his head. “Did she say that, though? Or did she just need to think it over?”
“I… I don’t know.” Too blindsided by the hurt of her turning me down, I can’t remember the exact phrasing she used. Just the way she recoiled.
“Take it slow. Don’t rush into it,” he says. “You already got married in the blink of an eye. What’s the harm in taking it one day at a time?”
“The divorce?” It’s heavy on my mind, making my stomach sink every time I think about Riley walking away.
Even if it’s not happening anytime soon, it feels like a ticking time bomb, reminding me that one day, this will end.
I have no right to ask her to stay forever, but I already don’t know what I’m supposed to do without her.
Not as Emmy’s nanny. Not even as her mom. Just… her. In my life, being my wife.
“You said it’s a year or two away,” he says patiently. “When the time comes, you can decide how you feel. It might run its course by then. Playing house might get old by then.”
I glare at him. “It’s not playing house when my kid is in the picture.”
A triumphant grin brightens his face. “Then you better treat your wife right. Start by backing off, and then talk about things rather than springing them on her. You might have more luck that way.”