Chapter 17
Arizona
I know you won’t see this until after your game, but I wanted to let you know Hilda dropped by this afternoon.
You’d have thought she moonlights as a forensic analyst with how she went through every inch of this place with a fine-toothed comb.
She must not have found what she was looking for because she left in an even worse mood than when she got here, which I didn’t believe was possible.
The good news is we’re in the clear for now.
The sports app says your game ended hours ago. Where are you?
So help me God, if you’re off with a woman while I’m risking everything so that you can get custody of your daughter, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. We had a deal.
Okay, I’m really starting to worry. Are you okay?
Goddammit, Levi, you better not be dead in a ditch somewhere.
Not a single one of my texts in the past eight hours had been marked as read, and it was coming up on 2 AM. With worst-case scenarios flashing before my eyes, I’d taken to pacing the first floor now that the kids were asleep.
I was seconds away from calling the cops to report the man missing when a knock sounded at the front door. And if I wasn’t mistaken, Levi was singing on the other side.
Had he been out getting drunk while I was here, out of my mind with worry?
Maybe I’d get to make good on that death threat I’d issued via text after all.
Moving as fast as my feet would carry me, I didn’t bother to check the peephole before flinging open the door.
What I was not expecting was to find three men on the other side. Cole and Crew flanked my husband, whose arms were slung over their strong shoulders while they struggled to keep him upright.
Levi’s pupils were blown wide, and when his eyes landed on me, his lips curved into a loopy grin. “Whoa, you’re pretty.”
The stench of alcohol on his breath was so strong I took a step back, waving a hand before my face.
Leveling his teammates with a glare, I shouted, “What the hell, guys?”
“So, we had a little incident,” Cole began as they shuffled into the house as a unit.
I scoffed, trailing behind them as they made their way up the stairs. “Is that what we’re calling my husband getting wasted?”
Crew peeked back at me. “Okay, that part is our fault. But the reason behind it is legit.”
“Can’t wait to hear this,” I said under my breath.
They crossed the threshold of the owner’s suite, dumped Levi onto one of the armchairs in the small sitting area, then turned to face me.
“I take it you didn’t watch the game?” Cole hedged.
I shook my head. “No, why? What happened at the game?”
The twins shared a look.
Cole pulled out his phone. “Maybe it’s better if we show you.”
“Fuck, I can’t watch it again.” Crew shuddered, a hand shifting to cover his fly. “The sympathy pains are real.”
A video began playing, and Cole turned his screen around so I could watch.
It was what I assumed was footage from tonight’s game, showcasing the Surf in white jerseys and their opponent in dark green.
The players moved so quickly that my vision began to blur, and it was almost impossible to track the tiny black dot of the puck as it was passed across the ice.
“That’s Levi there.” Cole pointed to my husband. “And here it comes . . .”
Tilting my head, I continued to survey the action. “Here comes what?”
In a flash, one of the guys in green shot the puck, only to have Levi move into its path. The speeding rubber disc made direct contact with his groin, and a scream of horror clawed its way up my throat upon impact.
Holy shit, that had to hurt.
“Yeah.” Cole grimaced, turning off the clip shortly after Levi was seen collapsing to the ground.
“When the team doc took him to a training room to assess the damage, we could hear his howls all the way from the bench,” Crew added.
My eyes flitted to my husband, who was now passed out and snoring. “Don’t you guys wear cups?”
“We do.” Cole reached into his pocket to produce said piece of protective athletic equipment, and my eyes widened when I saw that the curved plastic featured a spiderweb of cracks, some so severe that they left holes. “But it isn’t meant to hold up against a seventy-five mile-per-hour wrist shot.”
“Jesus,” I breathed. I knew hockey was a violent sport, having heard about the heavy hits and fighting, but this took it to a new level.
“Probably saved him a ruptured testicle, though. Gotta find that silver lining.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I narrowed my eyes on Levi’s teammates. “And letting him get drunk as a skunk was part of the medical treatment for an injury of this nature?”
“Poor guy kept ice on his balls the entire flight home, but every tiny bump in the air made him whimper like a kicked puppy,” Crew said. “We figured a few drinks would at least let him sleep tonight.”
“A few? He couldn’t even walk when you brought him home.”
“It was three shots of tequila max, I swear.” Cole held his hands up. “But what he failed to mention before we took him out was that he tossed back a couple of painkillers on the plane.”
My irritation was immediately forgotten as fear gripped me in a chokehold.
Unfortunately, I was intimately acquainted with the dangers of mixing alcohol with prescription drugs, and even though the man had been a pain in my ass since the day we met, he didn’t deserve to die in his sleep because his friends lacked sound judgment—despite having good intentions.
“What did he take?” I croaked, already picturing how devastated his daughter would be if anything were to happen to him, while fighting against the realization that maybe I wouldn’t handle it so great either.
Crew shrugged. “He didn’t say. But Doc’s pretty stingy with the opioids, so if I had to guess, it was probably an NSAID to provide both pain relief and quell inflammation.”
While that combination could cause some internal issues, it wasn’t life-threatening, and the rising tide of panic within me slowly began to ebb.
Letting out a shaky exhale, I addressed my husband’s teammates. “I think you two have done enough for one night. It’s probably best if you head home.”
They nodded their agreement, and I ushered them out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
When we reached the door, Cole turned to me with an apologetic expression. “We didn’t mean to dump this mess on you.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”
“He’s gonna be out of commission for a few days. Call us if you need anything, okay?”
“Sure,” I agreed.
Once the two of them reached their car, I closed the door and armed the security system.
Levi’s snores echoed throughout the foyer as I trudged up the stairs, exhausted out of my mind but determined to stay awake all night to keep a close eye on him, just in case.
Crossing the threshold, I latched the door to the suite and moved to his side.
I nudged my sleeping husband. “Levi?”
He moaned but remained unconscious.
Abandoning a gentler touch, I grabbed both shoulders and shook him more aggressively. “Come on. We need to get you to bed.”
His eyelids lifted the tiniest fraction. “Can’t,” he protested. “I’m married.”
Taking his hands in mine, I pulled, hauling his heavy body out of the chair. “Yeah, I know.”
Levi let out a pained groan when I got him on his feet, and I half led, half dragged his hunched-over form to the mattress before easing him onto it. With a sigh, he lay back, arms and legs splayed. I climbed up beside him, settling in for a sleepless night.
There was no denying that he was the most egotistical man I’d ever met, believing he was God’s gift to women and expecting the world to bend to his will, but damn, he was gorgeous.
Unable to resist, I reached out to smooth back the strands of chestnut hair that had fallen over his forehead.
His brow furrowed, and he shoved me away, grumbling, “Told you no.” His left hand lifted, and he wiggled his fingers. “See? Wedding ring.”
My lips folded inward as I fought against a smile. “Sorry, I’ll be good.”
Huffing, he turned onto his side, dark lashes lifting as he fixed me with a glassy stare, his words coming out slightly slurred. “She’s smoking hot, too, my wife.”
Playing along, I arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm.” His eyes slid shut again. “But she never lets me touch her. Damn shame because all I dream about is making her come so many times she forgets her own damn name.”
“How—” Mouth gone dry, I darted my tongue out to moisten my lips. “How would you make her come?”
His lips curved into that panty-melting smirk. “All the ways. With my fingers, with my mouth, with my cock.” There was a long pause where I thought he might’ve fallen asleep again, but then he hummed. “Mm. Toys too.”
My core clenched around nothing, imagining this virile man using sex toys in his quest to coax pleasure from my body.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we found our way to consummating this marriage.
He let out a deep groan that settled right between my thighs. “Fuck, I’m hard as stone just picturing it.”
Without permission, my eyes darted to where his erection tented his slacks.
It would appear everything was still in working order down there. Good to know.
No! Not good! Because you’re not having sex with him, remember?
Barely two weeks in, and my resolve was starting to crumble. How the hell was I supposed to stand my ground for an entire year?
As the sound of Levi’s snoring started again, I was forced to accept that, despite how hard I tried, at some point, I wouldn’t be able to resist temptation.
It wasn’t a matter of if but when I would allow him to make good on his promise to fuck me senseless.
And already, I knew that act of surrender would be my undoing.
Levi shuffled into the kitchen the next morning with a noticeable limp, his face pinched in pain.
I slid a cup of coffee across the island toward him. “How you feeling this morning?”
He gingerly lowered onto a stool, sucking in a sharp breath and wincing when he settled onto the hard surface. “Like shit.”