Chapter 15 #2
Before he could answer, the doors to the locker room opened, and the first wave of players came out. Mikko was at the back of the group, and he lit up the moment he saw us.
“Go get your man,” Nolan whispered, then pushed me forward.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile back at Mikko’s confident stride toward us.
I expected his focus to shift to Leena, to grab her from my arms the way he usually did when he came home. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, capturing Leena between us.
The moment his lips touched down on my forehead, I couldn’t breathe.
“We did it,” he said against my skin, his hand drifting down my back and pulling me into his body.
I held on mostly to keep myself from falling into him, so shocked by this sudden physicality. We hadn’t even kissed at our wedding, let alone anytime since. And it was a kiss on the forehead.
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t change anything.
So why was I so freaking breathless?
Mikko finally pulled away and lifted Leena from my arms, planting kisses all over her sleepy face. She smiled behind her pacifier, then settled back on his chest the moment he held her close.
“Ready to get out of here?” Mikko said, his hand on my back once again as he steered us through the room.
I could have sworn his hand was burning through my shirt, I was so hot.
“Laaksonen!” someone called before we made it out of the room.
We both looked at a guy rushing toward us in a dark suit.
“Media coordinator,” Mikko said before he made it to us. “Richard.”
“They’re asking for you in the press room. Post game interview.” In a complete afterthought, he looked at me. “Hey, new girl.”
Mikko’s hand tightened on my hip. “Wife. Don’t disrespect her like that again.”
Someone let out a low whistle, and Nolan chuckled behind me.
I stood stock-still, but my insides felt like one of those inflatable balloon men blowing in the wind over that possessive display. Sure, he called me that often when we were alone, but this wasn’t playful.
It was possessive.
And damn my traitorous body, because I liked it.
“Sorry,” Richard scrambled, his cheeks turning pink. “Interview, Mikko?”
He shook his head, then turned us toward the door. “Not tonight.”
Nolan bit back a smile from where he stood to my left, his gaze bouncing back and forth between us.
“They’re requiring it,” Richard said from behind us.
“No means no, Dick,” I said over my shoulder while we walked through the doors. “My husband’s mine tonight.”
Several snickers followed us, but Mikko’s grin only spread.
“Husband?”
“You are, aren’t you?”
He leaned down, whispering in my ear, “That’s right, rakas. Don’t forget it.”
Leena was asleep when we pulled out of the team parking garage, the only sound in the car her soft snores from the backseat.
Mikko glanced over at me, one hand resting on the steering wheel. “Well?”
I looked away from the blur of Denver lights outside my window. “Well, what?”
“My first game with my wife in the stands.” His mouth tugged into yet another smile. “What did you think?”
I shrugged, then pulled my foot up onto the seat. “It wasn’t as bad as a teeth cleaning.”
A surprised laugh burst out of him, filling the car. “That’s your review?”
“I like to manage expectations.”
He shook his head, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”
Silence settled between us again, comfortable this time. I watched the city pass by, unable to stop the smile that kept threatening the corners of my mouth.
“Actually...” I glanced over at him. “It was fun. Nolan’s alright.”
His eyes flicked toward me before returning to the road. “Yeah?”
“I still don’t understand half of what happened.”
“Nolan didn’t teach you anything?”
“Oh, he tried.” I laughed. “He thinks Carter hung the moon, and I think you’re incapable of staying out of everyone else’s business, both on and off the ice.”
“I’m almost offended.”
“You should be. Defensemen aren’t supposed to score multiple goals per game, Mikko.”
He chuckled, then looked back at the road. “So you had fun?”
“I liked watching you.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You looked happy.”
His smile softened. “I do like winning.”
“Maybe that’s why I feel weird.”
“Weird?”
“Like I have way too much energy.” I looked down at my hands. “I’ve been sitting for three hours. Why do I feel like I need to go run around the block?”
He laughed, and I couldn’t help but notice how different post-game Mikko was. Positive energy radiated off him and it was hard to ignore.
“Adrenaline.”
I arched a brow. “From watching?”
“You must have been really into it.”
I leaned back against the seat, still feeling that restless buzz beneath my skin. “Not that into it. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Again, that deep chuckle. If I wasn’t careful, I could get addicted to the sound of it.
“We should celebrate.”
His eyebrows climbed. “How does my wife celebrate?”
I opened my maps app and scrolled through nearby restaurants that offered to-go until one popped out at me. “Take the next exit.”
He glanced at me, but I held up a hand.
“Don’t start questioning me when you voluntarily skate into grown men for a living. I have never once had to go through concussion protocol. I highly doubt you can say the same.”
He laughed again, and yep. I loved it. I wanted more.
“Next exit it is.”