A Game of COURAGE

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A Game of COURAGE Page 8

by Lena Hart


  “Come on, baby. Back to bed.”

  Jules helped Madison back into bed and under the covers. She noticed Mason had again flipped the mattress and changed the sheets for her. She hadn’t expected him to still be up when their daughter had come in search for her, but was grateful for the assistance in handling another bedwetting incident.

  Once Madison was comfortably settled, she instantly fell asleep. Jules left the bedroom and quietly made her way to the laundry room. She was surprised to find Mason there, fiddling with the control panel. This was probably the first time she had seen him attempting to use the washing machine in the three years they had lived here.

  “Why do they make these so complicated?” he muttered as he examined the many dials and buttons closely.

  Jules bit back a smile and pulled him away from the machine. “Shoo. Before you break something.” She threw Madison’s soiled pajamas in with her wet sheets.

  “When did we get a new washer, anyway?”

  “We got it last month when the other one gave out on us.” She shut the lid, selected the express cycle, and in seconds had the washing machine running.

  “Why didn’t I know that?”

  “You had a lot going on last month with the playoffs. I didn’t want you to feel like I was complaining about every little thing.”

  “I wouldn’t have felt that way, Jules.”

  She shrugged. By that time, they had been arguing so much it had felt like just one more thing they could have found a reason to bicker about.

  “How’s Madison?”

  “Dry and back in bed.” She paused, remembering Dr. Kahn’s counsel that morning. “Thanks for changing her bedsheets. And attempting to do the laundry.”

  He nodded, then rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, do you?”

  “No. She’s had a checkup and everything’s fine. It could just be hereditary. Gennie wet the bed at that age, and she grew out of it.”

  Worry still creased his brow, and his concern over something so ordinary in kids Madison’s age made her want to hug him. Dr. Kahn’s suggestions about connecting suddenly echoed in her head, and Jules realized that if she wanted to hug her husband then she should.

  She looped her arms around his waist and held him close. “She’s fine, Mason,” Jules muttered, enjoying the way his hard chest pressed against her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, and they stayed like that for some time. She pressed her ear against his bare chest and could make out the slow thud of his heartbeat. That soft, steady sound reminded her of just how close she had come to breaking it.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she murmured.

  He stilled, then tightened his arms around her. “I’m sorry I hurt you, too.”

  They held each other for a few minutes longer, and the heat from his strong body made her tingle all over. A familiar bulge began to press against her belly, and her breasts grew heavy in response. It was soon followed by a dull ache between her legs.

  She pulled back and peered up at him. His deep blue eyes were filled with blatant need, and she realized then that she wanted more than just a hug. She wanted her husband to touch her, to fill her with his hard length.

  And it was clear he wanted that too.

  Without a word, he pulled away from her and went to shut the laundry room door. She tugged off her robe, and he made it back to her side just in time to catch it before it fell to the floor. He spread the soft material over the washing machine, then grabbed her around the waist and set her on top of it.

  Flustered by his swift movements, Jules flattened her palms against his hard chest. His muscles flexed beneath her fingers as he fitted himself between her legs, right where she wanted him. But instead of pulling off her nightgown, as she expected, he wrapped his hand behind her neck and brought his lips down to hers.

  The taste of him brought on a burning desire that seared her to her core. Jules clutched his shoulders, her fingernails digging into him as she returned his kiss with the same fervent need.

  He tore his lips from hers and trailed his warm, damp lips along her neck. Her pulse raced from the slow, light caress.

  “You smell good,” he murmured, continuing to nuzzle her throat and gently suck on her sensitive skin.

  She smoothed her palms over his firm chest and down to his lean sides. She stopped when she reached the waistband of his sweatpants then tugged them down. His hard, long shaft bobbed out of his pants and jutted eagerly toward her.

  Jules gave his erection a slow, firm stroke, and he released a rough growl. Without warning, he gripped the hem of her thin nightgown and yanked it over her head. Her bare skin tingled in the cool air. Dipping his head low, he drew a taut nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly at her before moving to the next. The coarse texture of his damp tongue over her tender flesh sent a tremor of need drumming through her.

  Gripping her hips, Mason jerked her forward until she was propped on the edge of the whirring machine. He clasped her leg and lifted it high before slowly guiding his thick shaft into her. Together they watched as he slid inside her, inch by exquisite inch.

  She gasped from the incredible sensation of being filled. He paused and rested his forehead against hers.

  “Good?”

  She responded with a small jerk of her head, and he captured her lips for another deep kiss before thrusting deeply. Stifling another sharp gasp, she clamped her eyes shut against the intense pleasure. With her arms wrapped securely around his neck, she held on to him as he pumped fiercely into her. A soft cry escaped her, and she threaded her fingers through the short silky strands of his hair.

  Suddenly, his movements became slow and measured, as if he wanted to prolong the inevitable. Mason held himself still, pressing his lips against her throat and just above her collarbone before thrusting strongly into her again. She let out a throaty whimper, her need for him beyond desperate.

  She cupped his face and brought his lips down to hers, swallowing his low grunts of pleasure. They devoured each other greedily as he continued to drive into her with hard, quick strokes. Spiraling closer to fulfillment, Jules locked her legs around his hips and held him close.

  Without warning, the washing machine shifted to the spin cycle, and the bottom of her thighs quivered from the rapid pulsations. With one last deep thrust, she was thrown over the edge.

  Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her, and she tightened her arms around him. Mason soon followed with a lengthy groan, his fingers digging into her hips as he held her firmly to him.

  As they floated down from the strength of their release, Jules leisurely ran her fingers along his back and shoulders, their sweat keeping them glued together. The machine shifted to the final rinse cycle, and the gush of running water drowned out their deep, heavy breathing.

  Mason drew back, his hands moving gently up and down her waist as he studied her from hooded lids.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.

  Jules smiled languidly and kissed the underside of his jaw. “That we need to do more connecting.”

  9

  “Madison, I saw that. Put them back, please.”

  Her daughter ignored her as she proceeded to tiptoe out of the kitchen, a handful of marshmallows clutched in her small palms.

  “Madison…”

  She continued to sneak off, and Jules blew out a breath in exasperation.

  “Queenie.” That got her attention. Her daughter froze, then turned to face her. “You heard what I said, missy.”

  Madison looked at her with wide, innocent eyes. “But Mommy, I only took a little for me and Jeremy.”

  “I told you it was almost time for dinner. Now give them to me.”

  “Please? Just a little?”

  “No.”

  Ignoring her daughter’s deep pout, Jules held out her hand. Madison hesitated for a millisecond before she dropped the now crushed soft candies into her hands. />
  “Can we have some later?”

  “No.” Jules went to the trash bin and dropped the sticky marshmallows into it.

  “But why?”

  “Because you tried to sneak some behind my back when I told you no the first time. You need to listen when I talk to you.”

  “But you gave Jeremy some and I didn’t get any.”

  “Those were his special treats, and he earned them.”

  “But I’m special too. Daddy said so.”

  Jules sighed. She hated when her daughter used that argument. “Yes, you are but in different ways. You’re a big girl now, and you have to do as you’re told. Understand?”

  Madison nodded slowly, though Jules wasn’t convinced by her easy submission.

  “Now go find your brother and wash up for dinner. Make sure you both sing the wash-up song to the end before you rinse.”

  “Okay!”

  Madison skipped out of the kitchen. Jules returned to the meal she was preparing when her daughter’s excited exclamation reached her.

  “Daddy!”

  Something in her belly fluttered with instant awareness. Since last night, their lovemaking was all she could think about. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him until she was in his arms.

  It took a few minutes for Madison’s excited chatter to fade before Mason made his way into the kitchen.

  “It smells good in here.”

  “Thanks,” Jules said, taking the baked chicken out of the oven. “It’s baked chicken and dirty rice. Just a few more minutes with the rice and dinner should be ready.”

  He came to stand behind her as she stirred the rice one last time before replacing the lid. His arms snaked around her waist, and he placed a lingering kiss against her neck, nuzzling her there.

  “You smell better.”

  She tried to turn and face him, but he tightened his arms around her.

  “Mason?”

  “We’re not done yet.”

  “Done?”

  “Connecting,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

  She smiled and leaned against him, her hand resting on his arm, and they stayed like that for a moment longer.

  “You know, this is my second favorite part of going to counseling.”

  “Yeah?” Mason murmured. “What’s the first?”

  “Getting to say I told you so.” A burst of laughter escaped him, and she smiled. “Admit it. We should have started it much sooner.”

  “I won’t argue with that.” He gave her another quick kiss then released her.

  She leaned against the counter and watched as he got himself a drink. “How’d the interview go?”

  “Steven wants to look at more candidates,” he said, twisting the cap off the beer bottle. “But we should have a new assistant coach brought in before the end of the summer.”

  She hoped so. Things were just starting to get better between them. She would hate for things to revert to the way they were once the preseason training started again.

  “Have you heard from Guy lately? I sent flowers to him at the hospital, but haven’t heard from him.”

  “Don’t take it personally. He’s recovering, but with the heart attack and forced retirement, I think he’s still trying to process it all.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Mason took a drink from his beer, his gaze unusually probing. “What do you say we get away for a bit?”

  “Like a vacation? When?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe next weekend? We can find someplace remote or maybe take a cruise.”

  Jules liked the sound of that. They hadn’t taken a family vacation in a while, and it would be nice to take a trip with her family.

  “We would have to find a place that’s family friendly and—”

  “I was thinking we leave the kids here and take off. Just the two of us.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Are you sure we’ll be able to just go away without the kids? I don’t know if I feel comfortable leaving Carrie alone to care for Jeremy for that long.”

  “It’s just a few days, and she’s great with Jeremy.”

  That was true. Carrie was great with their kids and also trained to work with special needs children. A slow excitement began to build in Jules at the prospect that they could actually plan a weekend getaway.

  “I would have to check with Carrie on her availability. I know she has a couple of summer trips planned.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll talk to Carrie and see what her schedule is before I book anything.”

  “Okay.” Her curiosity, however, overshadowed her excitement, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What made you want to do this?”

  He set his bottle down on the counter and gently pulled her into his arms again. “I want to make up for not being here with you during our anniversary. I should have handled that better. I’m sorry.”

  She brushed her lips lightly across his and said playfully, “You don’t know how excited you just made me right now.”

  His eyes gleamed with mischief and dark promise. He placed a finger under her chin and said, a hairsbreadth away from her lips, “How about you show me?”

  “Mason, I know this is not what you wanted to hear,” Steven said, “but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Mason kept his grip tight around the back of the chair, stunned by the sudden turn of events regarding the incident with Harrison Stacey.

  “I thought this was all resolved. Why can’t I just pay the damn fine and be done with this?”

  Steven shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “The commissioner is asking you to do both. Pay a fine and attend anger management.”

  Mason stared at him incredulously, then cursed. “This is ridiculous. I’m not the only coach in the league to lose his cool, and I’m sure I won’t be the last.”

  “Losing your cool on the ice may fly on occasion, but taking swings at reporters just won’t cut it.”

  Mason narrowed his eyes at the general manager. “Why does it sound like I don’t have a choice in this?”

  “You do. I just don’t think you’d like the alternative.” Steven sighed. “Mason, you have to remember that we’re still a young team. That just won the Cup. The country may be rooting for us, but there are still some who are waiting for us to fall on our face. With you and some of the other guys running around half-cocked, it’s only a matter of time before that day comes.”

  “I don’t see how forcing me into anger management will make a difference,” Mason snapped.

  “It probably won’t, but it’ll show the league that as head coach, you’re willing to lead by example, that you would do what it takes to be here for your players.”

  There was no question about that. Hockey had been a part of his life for over twenty years, and his players were like family. He wouldn’t turn his back on them ever—not when he had an opportunity to lead them through another championship season.

  But he also had Jules and his marriage to focus on. Where the hell was he going to find the time to continue marriage counseling and start anger management? If it came down to one or the other, he already knew his choice.

  “If anger management is what I need to do to keep my job, then fine. But my wife and I are in counseling now, and I won’t stop those for this.”

  “No, you wouldn’t need to. These aren’t supervised sessions or anything. You would just need to enter a program and get a letter stating you are in therapy.”

  “Well, the league will have to just wait until after I’ve finished counseling and made things better at home.”

  Steven sat back in his seat, his eyes taking a faraway look as he contemplated the situation. “Maybe we won’t have to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m assuming you’re seeing a trained professional?”

  Mason nodded curtly. He hated discussing his private life with anyone, Steven included. Mason had nothing against the man, but it was hard enough opening up to Dr. Kahn�
��he didn’t like divulging his marriage problems to someone who had no interest in helping them get better.

  “Then simply get a letter from your therapist stating you’re seeking treatment for your…issues.”

  “And that’s acceptable?”

  “For the league, it will have to be. I’ll even mention something about doctor-client confidentially. Just get me the letter and I’ll handle the rest.”

  Mason regarded him closely then shrugged. “All right.”

  He was barely out of Steven’s office before he placed a call to Dr. Kahn’s office. Apparently, his request wasn’t uncommon. After speaking with Debbie, he was assured the verification letter would be sent to him as soon as possible.

  Mason ended the call, and as he neared his office, an event reminder on his phone drew his attention. He didn’t recognize it, but one of his players’ names was included in the description. It was also happening on Saturday—the same day he and Jules had planned their getaway.

  When Mason reached his office, he immediately called his assistant.

  “If you’re calling for the training videos,” Doug said in a rush, “I’m having them sent to your office now.”

  “No, I’m calling about this thing that just popped up on my calendar. What’s it for?”

  “What date?”

  “Saturday. It has Donnelly’s name and something about a Crooked Angel in the description.”

  “Oh, right. That’s Donnelly’s fundraiser in Remington. That’s in North Carolina.”

  “I figured as much. Why is it on my schedule?”

  “Didn’t you read the email he sent out about it?” Doug asked. “Apparently, this fundraiser is to honor Donnelly’s firefighter friend who was killed on the job. He reached out to you and the other guys on the team for support. He’s hoping if the team shows up, they can end up with a huge turnout, which will bring in lots more money.”

  Mason blew out a heavy breath. Any other time, he wouldn’t mind making the trip in support of one of his players, especially for a cause this important. But he had just gotten confirmation from Carrie that she would be able to stay the weekend with their kids, and he had looked forward to spending quiet time away with his wife.

 

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