17. Carina
seventeen
Carina
T he doorbell chimed through the house, and Jacques lifted his head off Lincoln’s lap. He eased himself up from his spot on the outdoor sofa and headed inside.
“Hey, man,” he greeted as he opened the door and waved to me, beckoning me over.
I went inside as Jacques gestured for the people to come in. The man was holding a tray, the woman a couple of bottles of wine.
“Carina, this is Carter and Sarah Hewitt. Hewitt, Hux, and I are on the front line.”
I looked like a complete mess. Wearing leggings and a short flowy dress with my hair in a messy bun atop my head, I wasn’t even remotely stylish. Compared to Sarah, I looked like I’d just woken up. But I bit back my self-consciousness and said, “Hi, nice to meet you.”
We had the firepit going and were comfortable on the outdoor sofas, listening to music. The playlist I’d chosen was Aussie bands from the seventies, eighties, and nineties—Cold Chisel, Crowded House, Midnight Oil, and The Living End. Travis was firmly in the country-music-or-die fan club, and Jacques and Lincoln were easy, happy listening to whatever we wanted.
Hewitt and Sarah acted at home in the house. They’d clearly been here before. Hewitt went straight for the oven and slid the tray inside while Jacques turned it on. Sarah popped the bottles into the refrigerator. then hugged me.
“It’s so good to meet you. We thought Jacques would be a bachelor forever,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged and smiled, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. Jacques really had forced all three of them into the closet. It broke my heart that he’d had to do that. Now, they were celebrating me coming along in complete ignorance of his other partners.
“Congratulations,” Hewitt said, wrapping me in a hug and startling me out of my thoughts. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” I replied with a smile.
He excused himself to say hello to Travis and Lincoln, leaving me with Sarah. I had no idea what to say, but Jacques came to my rescue, resting his hand low on my back and leaning in to brush a kiss on my temple.
“Can I get you a drink? Cocktail, wine?” he asked.
I groaned and shot my hand straight to my stomach as it protested, clenching hard and its contents threatening to come up. Shaking my head, I shuddered. “Nothing alcoholic. A soft drink would be good, though.”
He looked momentarily stumped, and then he laughed. “Been a long time since I’ve heard that. Pepsi Max?” he asked.
I nodded and gestured to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. “I’m just going to get changed.”
Before I could duck away, the doorbell rang again, and more people entered, each of them holding trays of food and coolers of drinks. Wilson and his wife, Kreutzmann, Rossi, Rune, and his girlfriend all came inside. I was hugged more times than I could count, but the conversation was quickly over, the ladies heading straight to the kitchen to place all the food on the counters and in the oven. The guys exited the house quickly, milling with Travis and Lincoln outside.
Jacques stayed close, but he had his eyes on Lincoln as the patio filled. Lincoln looked tense.
“Is he okay?” I asked in a whisper.
Jacques drew me into his arms and leaned close so no one could hear. “He didn’t have a chance to mentally prepare himself for so many people. He’s struggling.”
“Find an excuse for him to have some alone time.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” he said, looking torn.
I patted him on the chest and tilted my chin toward Lincoln. “His comfort is more important. I need to get changed anyway.”
He brushed a kiss on my cheek, and I smiled, then ducked into the bedroom I was staying in. I’d only unpacked my toiletries. I had no idea whether I had any clothes that weren’t creased. Shirts, pants, and dresses went everywhere as I pulled them out and discarded them.
I didn’t have a thing that would work.
I swallowed down the panic, or maybe that was the queasiness of the thought of more liquor .
This was supposed to be a nice gesture. It was a nice gesture.
I exhaled and saw my mid-length blue dress tucked into a corner of my bag. It hugged my curves, didn’t crease, and I could pair it with a cute brown belt and sandals. Perfect.
I frantically brushed my hair, applied some makeup, slashed lip gloss over my lips, and was out the door just as the doorbell chimed again. I looked around. Travis was busy talking to a few more people who’d arrived, and Jacques and Lincoln were nowhere to be seen.
I plastered on a smile and opened the door.
“G’day,” I greeted, then immediately wanted to slap myself upside the head. Could I sound any more Aussie? I hadn’t said “g’day” in decades.
“You must be Jacques’s new wife,” a lady said with a heavy accent and shamelessly looked me up and down. She was beautiful—catwalk model gorgeous—and stood next to a bruiser of a man. “I’m Sasha Mironov. This is Ivan.”
I learned that the other people who’d arrived with Sasha were Anatoly Lebedev, the assistant coach, the team’s PR person, Keeley, and the team medic, Trisha.
“Come in. Jacques is just tied up for a moment, but everyone is either in the kitchen or outside.”
I looked around and saw the guys joking and laughing on the patio, beers in hand. Alec stood with one of them and grinned when I met his gaze. I smiled back, and my shoulders unknotted. I’d only met him once, but we’d spoken a few times via video chat when I was at Cara’s or she was visiting me.
One of the men was firing up the barbecue, and another was searching through cupboards in the outdoor kitchen. The ladies were deep in conversation in the kitchen. Sarah was pulling paper plates out of a box, and another woman was pairing up cutlery with serviettes. Curious eyes were on me, staring shamelessly.
I smoothed down my dress and plastered on a smile. “Sorry, we were unprepared for a party. It’s so unexpected. Who should I say thank you to for organizing all of this?”
“It was Carter’s idea,” Sarah Hewitt clarified with a warm smile. She stood a little apart from the other ladies as if physically distancing herself from them in the cavernous kitchen. “He contacted the team and told everyone the details.”
“It was very sweet of him—and all of you for coming and cooking all this food.” I gestured to the mountain of food that was piling up on the countertop.
“We were thrilled to hear the news,” a lady I hadn’t met said. “I’m Nadia.”
I smiled and gave her a half wave from my spot on the other side of the countertop.
“We wanted to welcome you and celebrate with you.” Her smile seemed genuine, but the way the others hung off our every word made my skin crawl with self-consciousness. It was as if she’d drawn the short straw to run the interrogation.
“We didn’t even know Jacques was seeing anyone. He comes to every function with his roommates.” She rolled her eyes with a smile and waved her hand dismissively. “How long have you been dating?”
I forced my smile to stay in place. My agreement to stay here and pretend this marriage was genuine for twelve months hadn’t even sunk in yet—we’d only just received the paperwork. I was here temporarily, but our wedding needed to appear genuine. How did I manage that?
I went with the truth, or at least a watered-down version of it.
“Not long, but we’ve known each other for years. We reconnected while the team was in Brisbane, and I flew out a couple of weeks ago.”
“Wow, that was quick.”
I shrugged and fake-smiled again. “When you know, you know.”
Jacques slipped his arm around my shoulders, and I exhaled, relaxing into his embrace. He handed me the drink I’d asked for and pressed a kiss to my head.
“Ladies,” he greeted with a grin. “Thank you for cooking all this. I see you’ve met Carina.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Nadia said sincerely.
Her smile wasn’t forced or awkward. She clearly knew Jacques and liked him. Maybe it was protectiveness, or genuine surprise. But those few words uttered to Jacques were warmer than all the ones she’d said to me.
“And we have met.” She turned to me and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal her for a moment.”
“Nice meeting all of you,” I said before he led me away.
Mumbled comments followed in our wake. The only one I made out was “I’ll give it six months.”
I gritted my teeth, hating that she wasn’t far off.