26. Shayla
26
SHAYLA
I hated keeping secrets from my friends and family, especially one this big. I was getting married, and I couldn’t tell a soul. There would be too many questions. Someone would surely try to talk me out of it. But I had to go through with this. I needed my trust fund to cover Mom’s treatments and the stack of medical bills we were already struggling to pay.
With the Vegas game only a week away, I didn’t have much time to come to terms with the fact that I was getting married. And not one person I loved would be there. That sounded strange when I thought about it. It was my wedding, but I didn’t love anyone who would be present, certainly not the groom. I wasn’t even sure I liked him, though I’d softened to him since that day in the rage room.
I’d learned so much about him over the past couple weeks that made it hard to hate him. He had a soft spot for his nephew, he was a loyal friend and teammate, and he could be sweet and compassionate when the situation called for it. Like when he helped Kent through his blood draw or talked me through takeoff on my first team flight.
Or when he offered to marry me so I could help my sick mother .
He was a conundrum, a puzzle whose pieces didn’t exactly fit together, and more and more, I found that I wanted to solve him.
“I need to meet your mother,” Easton blurted out while we were trying to get our story straight. Naturally, people would be curious about how we got together, and we needed to be on the same page. We’d settled on sticking as close to the truth as possible.
“Um,” I began, stunned by the insistence in his tone. “I don’t think that’s ne—” I began, then snapped my mouth shut. Shit, he was right. I was about to marry this man, and my mother had never laid eyes on him. She would be so hurt—and most likely suspicious—if I came home from Vegas married to a man she’d never met. “Okay,” I said, switching gears. “Do you want to come over for dinner?” I asked hesitantly.
“When?” he asked, watching me warily.
“How about tomorrow?”
“I can do that,” he replied, nodding. He almost looked … nervous. It was shocking to see. Maybe he’d never been in a relationship serious enough to meet a woman’s parents before. That was probably it.
“Okay,” I said, clapping with finality. “That’s settled then.”
The next night, my heart leapt into my throat when there was a knock at the door. My mom smiled at me excitedly, thrilled to be meeting my “boyfriend.”
When I told her about Easton after work yesterday, she perked up and beamed at me. Her skin was sallow, her eyes dull and drained of their usual vibrancy, but she instantly brightened the moment I told her about Easton. She wanted to see me happy, and she knew I’d had terrible luck with men since Calvin. No one had stuck around long enough to meet my family since him, so this felt monumental. At least to her, it did. To me, it felt like betrayal. Because this wasn’t real. And in a year it would all be a distant memory.
I swallowed down the unexpected disappointment that thought evoked and swung open the door. Easton stood on the other side with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of colorful flowers. A huge grin split his face as he took me in.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, leaning in to place a soft kiss on my cheek. Damn, he was laying it on thick tonight.
“Hi,” I replied breathlessly, annoyed at myself for buying into his facade. He peered past me into the house where my mother waited to greet him.
“You must be Christine. It’s great to finally meet you.” He reached out to shake her hand, but she pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hesitate. His huge body enveloped her small frame, and I nearly choked on a sob. I barely had time to compose myself before they broke apart, and my mother settled her gaze on me. She would be so disappointed in me if she knew this was all a hoax. I just hoped she could forgive me when it was all said and done and we were living debt free. Because she would live. I’d do everything within my power to ensure she made it out on the other side of this.
“You didn’t tell me he was so handsome,” Mom crooned. To my surprise, a flush spread over Easton’s cheeks and nose. I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with acknowledging how insanely attractive he was.
“Yes, well…” I began awkwardly, my face heating, “I assumed you knew what he looked like since he’s pretty well known around here.” It was true. The Wraiths had a loyal following and since they were the closest professional sports team to Willow Brook Falls, most of the people in our town were diehard fans. A hockey game was the most exciting thing residents could do within forty-five minutes from home.
“I don’t watch a lot of hockey,” she admitted sheepishly, “but when I do, you’re always wearing a helmet.” She shrugged and looped her arm through Easton’s, leading him to the table. “Have a seat, and I’ll put these in water,” she offered, taking the flowers from him. “Shayla, grab a couple glasses so you two can enjoy a glass of this lovely wine Easton brought.”
I did as she requested and grabbed the corkscrew on my way back to the table. Easton opened the bottle and poured us each a glass.
“Would you like some?” he asked as my mom placed the bowl of salad and basket of garlic bread on the table. I took a sip of wine to hide my wince. It had been a couple days since Mom’s last chemo infusion, so she wasn’t as nauseated as usual, but still, alcohol was a no-go. It would only make her feel worse.
She offered him a soft smile. “No, thank you. I can’t drink during treatment. It makes me quite ill,” she offered regretfully. Easton’s apologetic gaze flitted to me and back to her as he swallowed visibly.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think?—”
“It’s okay,” my mother rushed to assure him. “One day, when this is all over, we’ll celebrate with a bottle of my favorite red,” she proclaimed optimistically.
The oven timer went off, and I jumped from my seat to pull the homemade lasagna out of the oven. My mouth watered at the sight of the bubbly cheese and tangy scent of freshly made sauce.
“This looks amazing,” Easton said as I scooped a healthy serving onto his plate.
“Eat up. You’ll need the fuel for tomorrow’s game,” I instructed. They had one home game between now and when we left for Vegas. My stomach knotted in anticipation. Things would be so different when we returned from that trip. My mom would be blindsided, yet I suspected she’d still be happy for me. I wouldn’t deserve it, though. I was a fraud. I just needed to remind myself why I was doing this.
“So, Easton, tell me how you and my sweet girl got together. She’s been very tight lipped about you.”
Translation, I didn’t know you existed until yesterday.
His gaze flicked to me briefly, and I gave him a subtle nod. We rehearsed this. Both of us knew exactly what to say when questioned about our whirlwind relationship.
“We met shortly before the season started,” he began, and my mom rested her chin on her clasped hands, giving him her undivided attention. “She caught my eye from across the bar. I was instantly smitten.” He settled an adoring look on me as a soft smile curved his lips. What the…? That wasn’t part of our script. Shit, was he going rogue?
He explained to her how we shared a magical kiss—leaving out the part where I went back to the hotel with him and he kicked me out—and parted ways without exchanging numbers. Then voila, there I was on his first day with the Wraiths. He recited the story we concocted about how we tried to resist each other but couldn’t contain our feelings. I fought the urge to fake gag. He never had one single feeling for me besides disgust, and even though I was attracted to him, I wanted to kick him in the balls most of the time. But to hear him tell it, we were head over heels in love. By the time he was finished, a dreamy look fell over my mother’s face, and she sighed.
“I’m so happy you two found each other again. Will this cause any trouble for you at work?” A line of worry creased her brow as her gaze bounced between us.
“There aren’t any written rules stating we can’t date,” Easton explained. “It’s not exactly encouraged, but it’s not explicitly forbidden either,” he continued as I brought my glass to my lips. “However, there are added benefits if you get married.”
The sip of wine I tried to swallow caught in my throat, and I sputtered out an unflattering cough. Merlot dribbled down my chin, and I dabbed at it with my napkin. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t tell my mother about our plans. I kicked him under the table and shot him a warning glare. He smirked, the only sign that he felt the shot straight to his shin.
He leaned back in his seat, a relaxed expression settling on his face. He was such a menace.
A hopeful gleam lit my mother’s gray eyes.
“Is that so?” she asked with growing interest.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his eyes never leaving mine. “And I intend to take full advantage of them some day.”