Just yesterday, I’d stopped by a local florist’s shop and picked out a single long-stemmed pink rose because I’d wanted to see her smile. It’d definitely done the trick. And it had earned me one hell of a lay.
The gift that had made her light up more than any other, though, was an e-reader and a gift card so she could fill it up with books.
She was so easy to please. Maybe too easy to please. Was she just putting on a show for me so that I’d think she was happy with me?
I thought we were doing a good job of this, making a solid effort at turning this marriage into something that would last, but maybe it was just in my imagination.
Maybe I just wanted it to work out so badly that I had convinced myself it was, even though she was miserable. And she could definitely be miserable. Her fear of my dogs might be more than she could overcome, but she was just suffering through living with them—and me—because she didn’t think she had any other options. Maybe she wasn’t fighting me harder on the laundry and the toothpaste and the dishwasher because she was scared of what would happen if she was disagreeable.
But that wasn’t going to work for me. Because I didn’t want any other options. Not for either of us. I wanted this to last.
Regardless, surely she didn’t think I expected her to get a job. Did she? We’d never talked about it, but then again, we didn’t talk about a lot of things. Not yet.
We had been gradually getting to know one another, but maybe we’d been spending more time focused on the physical aspects of our relationship than on anything deeper.
Yeah, it had to work physically, but sex wasn’t everything. Even I knew that.
Mackenzie getting a job wasn’t anything I’d anticipated, but maybe if I’d attempted to get to know her better before now, I would have seen it coming.
“A job,” she repeated, sounding entirely serious and not like she was trying to pull a fast one on me. And there was a hint of excitement in her tone, too.
“You know you don’t need to work, right? I thought I made it clear when we got married. I can support you. I make more than enough—”
“It’s not that,” she cut in. “It’s not about money, I promise. I just need to feel like I’m doing something. Something more than just shopping for clothes with the other girls and going out for lunch and trying not to be scared of your dogs or whatever. Besides, it’s not exactly a job, per se. They’re not paying me. I’m just going to volunteer, at least for now. Maybe someday, if they have a position open up, I can apply. And I’ll already have a leg up on the competition because I’ll have been there for a while as a volunteer.” She gave me a hopeful, hesitant look. “Anne said that a lot of the other guys’ wives and girlfriends do volunteer work for different charities, so I thought it would be okay.”
For a moment, I could only stare in wonder. “It is okay. Whatever you want to do. I’m just surprised.”
“Surprised in a good way or surprised in a bad way? You’re not going to faint on me, are you? Because I can’t lug you up the stairs to bed, and I don’t know if Max and Lola would help without you telling them what to do.”
I had to chuckle at that. At least she was comfortable enough with me to crack jokes, even if I wasn’t keeping up with her decision-making process. “So where did you get this volunteer job?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, which was a more difficult task than it should have been.
The thing was, I didn’t have a problem with Mackenzie working. Far from it. I didn’t want her to feel as if she had to work, but that was as far as I’d go on that score.
A lot of the other WAGs worked in any number of fields, even though most of them didn’t need to from a financial standpoint because of how much money my teammates and I made playing in the NHL.
For most of those women, it came down to needing a job for their own happiness in life, which was a pretty awesome reason for having a job if you asked me. Their careers gave them a drive and a direction, something of their own that they could be proud of. I could understand that entirely since I’d worked so hard to make something of myself after growing up in my disaster of a family.
And maybe that was what Mackenzie wanted, too.
Be that as it may, my confusion at present centered around the fact that Amanda had never wanted to work even so much as a single day in her life.
She’d never helped with the various charities the other WAGs organized and volunteered for.
She hadn’t bothered to get any sort of education beyond a high school diploma because she wouldn’t need it as my wife.
Hell, she’d never even wanted to lift a finger around the house, insisting on hiring a housekeeper to come in and clean the place twice a week. She’d claimed she couldn’t handle all the dog hair. Admittedly, Max and Lola did shed a lot, but it wasn’t that bad. It was because of her unwillingness to deal with my dogs that we’d eventually hired Grady to walk them every day.
I supposed I was just used to her laziness, and maybe some part of me had expected Mackenzie to be equally lazy and ungrateful, regardless of the fact that she’d shown herself to be virtually Amanda’s opposite in every way that mattered.
Poor excuse on my part, but that was the truth, at least as far as I could see it.
“It’s through the Portland Public Schools,” Mackenzie said, “with their libraries. When Laura Weber started talking to me and found out what I was interested in, she talked to a few of the other girls. And then Dani Williams introduced me to a friend of—”
“Do me a favor and steer clear of Dani, all right?” I cut in. That girl was nothing but trouble, as far as I could see it. She was my teammate’s wife, not to mention the team captain’s sister-in-law and the daughter of one of our coaches, but she was still trouble with a capital T, as far as I was concerned.
“But she has a friend who’s a teacher,” Mackenzie said in a breathless rush, essentially brushing off my argument. Which might very well be for the best. Mackenzie deserved to be allowed to decide for herself who she liked and who she didn’t. “Bea Castillo,” she continued. “She teaches special education at one of the local elementary schools, and Bea’s the one who told me about the need for volunteers in the libraries. I’m going to go to some of the schools in the area a few days a week and read books to the kids when their teachers take them to the library.”
“Oh,” I said, sounding stupid, even to myself. So Mackenzie’s plan had nothing to do with Dani in the end. In fact, it sounded like something that would be a great way for her to get out of the house and into the community, doing something that excited her. She was always reading, so it seemed perfect for her, actually.
“You’re all right with that?” Mackenzie asked, and now she sounded unsure of herself.
I was a jackass of epic proportions for making her question herself for wanting to do something good in the community. “Of course I’m all right with it,” I said. “In fact, I can maybe do something to help you out with it.”
“Yeah?” She sounded dubious. “Like what?”
“Like come with you once or twice, hang out with the kids? I can talk to Jim Sutter and see if we can get some foam hockey sticks or maybe some signed pucks to give out as prizes or something.”
“You’d want to do that?”
I shrugged. It wasn’t anything I’d ever thought about doing before, but if it meant spending more time with Mackenzie and less time worrying about my damned ankle, I was on board. “Why not?” I replied.
Her smile made me feel like a fucking god. I only hoped it would always be this easy to make her happy.
What was the saying? Happy wife, happy life? Well, my life was looking pretty damn good these days.
I’D BEEN RIGHT. Jim Sutter wasn’t simply on board with me going up to area schools with Mackenzie when she was volunteering, even if I couldn’t go every time. Frankly, he was ecstatic about the idea. I still had to spend plenty of time rehabbing my ankle, and some of the sessions Mackenzie had set up with the schools wouldn’t work
out for me. She’d have to do those on her own, like she’d originally planned. But taking on this sort of volunteer work would keep me, and therefore the team, in the public eye by doing good in the community. Or at least that was the way Mr. Sutter saw things.
As a matter of fact, he was so excited about it that he had Rachel Campbell put together a huge assortment of Portland Storm swag items we could give out to the kids: pucks I could sign, foam hockey sticks, magnets, calendars, kid-sized Storm T-shirts and jerseys, keychains, bumper stickers, and virtually every other thing imaginable that bore the Portland Storm logo—as long as it was appropriate for kids, at least.
What I hadn’t been prepared for was that Mackenzie expected me to be the one to read to the kids when I accompanied her—something she neglected to tell me until we were parking in front of the elementary school where Bea Castillo taught.
“I thought you were going to read to them,” I spluttered, my utter surprise making me lose my cool. “I thought I was just coming along to give out prizes.”
Mackenzie laughed and gave me a pitying look. “You don’t get to be the Vanna White in this scenario. You don’t get to just stand there and turn the pages while I read. The kids want to engage with you much more than with me.”
“Never said I should be,” I muttered. Absentmindedly, I tugged on the hem of my sweater. Jim had insisted I wear it instead of a suit or something more formal and fussy so the kids would immediately understand who I was when I walked into the building. He wanted there to be no doubt that I played for the Storm. I wished tugging on it would help calm my nerves, but I had no such luck.
Put a stick in my hands and send me out on the ice, and I was your man. Calm, cool, in charge. I got shit done out there. Send me out in front of a bunch of kids and ask me to read to them, and I forgot how my brain worked.
The thought of reading to them scared the ever-loving fuck out of me, never mind the fact that I was old enough I should be able to fake it until I made it. Or something like that.
This wasn’t going to end well. It couldn’t possibly.
“I did read to them the first time I came,” Mackenzie said, perfectly put-together.
It was as if we’d switched identities or something. I was a fucking mess, ready to fall apart at the drop of a hat, but she was in her element, as though she was born for doing this kind of thing. Was it the kids who brought out this side of her? Or maybe the books?
Either way, it was a nice change of pace. I could get used to seeing my wife like this.
“And I’ll be the one reading to them next time, too,” she continued after a moment, before I could formulate another logical argument against her plan. “But what’s the point of you coming with me today if you aren’t going to read to them?” she countered.
“I don’t know,” I hedged, practically squirming with nerves. “I thought I could just sign some shit and be a representative of the Storm. That’s what I normally do at these kinds of things.”
She rolled her eyes, which might have been the first time she’d ever showed signs of being a bit snarky with me.
I had to admit, I liked it even if I didn’t like the reason she was doing it. Showed some spunk and sass. And that she was starting to be more comfortable with me—comfortable enough that she wasn’t afraid of my reaction.
“You can’t curse in there,” she said. “They’re kids, and you can bet that if you do, that’s the only thing they’ll be telling their parents when they get home, and the team will be hearing all about it. And if there’s such a thing as what you normally do at these kinds of things, then you’re already more prepared for this than you give yourself credit for.”
Fucking hell.
This was exactly why I shouldn’t have to talk to them. My palms were already starting to sweat. The last time I could remember feeling this nervous was when Ghost had shoved me out of an airplane.
“How many kids?” I demanded.
“Four classes of first graders plus Bea’s special education students. I think about seventy-five to a hundred, all told.”
“I can’t read to that many kids.”
I couldn’t read to a single kid, let alone dozens of them. I wasn’t cut out for this sort of scenario. It was one thing to hang out with my teammates and their kids. I didn’t have to do anything. The parents took care of it all.
And as long as Mackenzie was around, she would apparently be willing to step in and help out wherever she was needed. That day when she’d tried to rescue Kiara Sorenson from my dogs was proof enough of her motherly instincts.
I should just drop Mackenzie off with all the stuff and then turn right back around and get the hell out of Dodge. A school was no place for me. I was good with animals. And adults. I could handle myself around my teammates’ kids, but it wasn’t something I made a habit of very often.
But a hundred of them? Nope.
Actually, Ghost would be a hell of a lot better at this than I would. He was good in front of people. And he was definitely the smarter one of the pair of us. You needed to be smart to be around kids, right? They could spot an idiot from a mile away, or so I’d always assumed. Maybe I could talk him into doing this the next time Mackenzie wanted to drag someone from the team along with her.
Or at least he could come with me to help. That seemed like a good plan.
“What am I supposed to be reading?” I finally asked, dreading the answer.
She shoved a couple of picture books toward me: My Granny Loves Hockey by Lori Weber and Z is for Zamboni by Matt Napier. “Read what’s on each page and then turn it around so the kids can see the illustrations. Let them look for several seconds before you read the next page. Easy as pie.”
Two books? The thought of one was bad enough… “But I can’t—”
Apparently it didn’t matter what I could or couldn’t do, because Mackenzie rolled her eyes, threw open the passenger-side door, and was climbing down, her purse slung from one shoulder, leaving no more options to me but to follow her. I had to at least carry the box of prizes inside and make an appearance. Maybe the teachers would let me off the hook, even if Mackenzie didn’t want to.
I could hope so, at the very least.
We checked in with the front office, and the secretary gave me a huge grin while Mackenzie printed our names on the sign-in sheet.
“Ms. Castillo told us that you’d be here today, Mrs. Jezek, but she didn’t say you’d be bringing your husband. The kids are going to be so excited they won’t know what to do with themselves.”
“We thought it would be a good surprise,” Mackenzie replied after a brief hesitation.
Was she finally rethinking bringing me along to read to these kids? Or was it just that she wasn’t used to being called Mrs. Jezek? I’d have to ask her later, when we were alone. At least if I couldn’t suss it out through my investigational skills before then.
The secretary’s smile might very well split her cheeks if she didn’t tone it down soon. “I hope you’re both prepared for some ear-splitting shrieks. Our librarian, Mrs. Austin, isn’t going to know what hit her.” With that, she nudged her head for us to follow her, and she led us through the halls of the school until we reached the library.
Dozens of kids were already seated on the floor, some bouncing on their knees because they couldn’t contain themselves, others leaning back on their elbows with their legs bent. They were all whispering amongst themselves, multiple groups of children having disparate conversations, until one of them recognized me.
“Mrs. Castillo, he’s a Storm!” a little boy near the front said, practically bouncing on his heels in his excitement.
The teacher he’d been talking to glanced over, and her eyes lit up when she saw us. “That’s right, Casey. That’s Mr. Jezek. He plays for the Storm. And this nice lady with him is his wife, Mrs. Jezek. They’re here to read to you today.”
I wasn’t so sure what to think about being called Mr. Jezek by a bunch of kids. It made me feel old all of a sudden. It wasn
’t all that long ago that I was their age. Was it?
But then again, maybe someday Mackenzie and I would have kids of our own, and their friends might call us Mr. and Mrs. Jezek. It might not be so bad, those names belonging to the two of us and not to my parents.
Besides, my parents hadn’t been around enough for any of my friends to call them anything back when I’d been growing up.
I didn’t really want to think about my family right now, though. Unless I could think about Mackenzie and me, and about the kids we might have someday.
If she even wanted to have kids.
Did she?
I chanced a glance over at her, but she was already moving among the children, smiling and talking to them, perfectly at ease. This was her element. This was where she belonged, surrounded by little ones. She bent over and shook a boy’s hand, treating him as if he were an adult, and he lit up like a Christmas tree.
Mackenzie was a natural. She’d be a fantastic mother. It should have already been obvious to me based on how she’d been with Kiara, but for some reason, I hadn’t allowed my thoughts to go there.
Yeah, I wanted to make babies with her. Definitely.
Lots of babies.
I only hoped she was on board with that plan. We’d have to talk about it soon. Although, I wasn’t so sure I was cut out to be a father. My own parents had been shitty examples of what parents should be, so how could I possibly be better?
“You guys can call me RJ,” I said, once I’d reined my thoughts back in to the kids in front of us instead of the kids we might make together someday. “That’s what all my teammates call me. And you’re right,” I said to the boy in front who’d recognized me. “I’m Riley Jezek, and I play for the Portland Storm. Or at least I do when I’m not injured.”
Power Play (Portland Storm Book 16) Page 15