Play the Man

by Jaymee Jacobs

  She stopped listening as Sharon droned on and on. It was bad enough that her own mother had been badgering her for years about when she was finally going to get married, but now Ryan’s mother was just as bad. Mrs. Linsenbigler should have been bugging her son about picking a date—not pestering after Jenna to nag at Ryan about it.

  Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry, Sharon, but I have to go. I’ve got a bunch of errands that I need to run while Ry’s at training camp this morning. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, honey. Hopefully when we next talk, you’ll have good news for me and a set date.”

  As soon as she disconnected the call, Jenna groaned. She never imagined that her wedding would cause the people around her to change. What was supposed to be the happiest time of her life was starting to morph into a time of stress; she had already ignored a call from her mom earlier that day because she didn’t want to get asked the same questions.

  She took a few deep breaths and then grabbed her purse and keys so she could head to the grocery store. They hadn’t really gone shopping since returning to Chicago, and she needed to restock the pantry. Jenna picked up all the staples: Bisquick to make pancakes for their big Sunday breakfasts, boxes of pasta for Ryan’s pregame meals, and lots of different meats to fill the deep freezer in the basement. Then she selected a few days’ worth of fresh vegetables and other produce as well as some snacks that she planned on hiding from Ryan so as to not derail his diet and detract from his training. Her shopping cart was full when she was finished.

  By the time she got home, Ryan had returned from the second day of training camp. He had the door open as she came up the driveway, laden with bags. “Oh good, you’re back. I’m starving. What’s for lunch?”

  “I don’t know yet. Help me with these?” Jenna knew that she had to ask because Ryan didn’t always think to help out on his own. It didn’t bug her though; he wasn’t being inconsiderate. He honestly never thought about chipping in to accomplish the little things around the house. She always had to make a to-do list for him whenever something needed to be done, like changing a burnt-out light bulb or fixing a broken slat on the deck. Once she asked though, he did it—and she usually only had to ask once.

  Ryan tilted his head back and grunted, but he walked out in his bare feet to help without otherwise complaining or protesting, which was his usual M.O. He threaded his arms through the handles of the remaining bags and was able to carry the rest of the groceries into the house in just one trip, very proud of himself for managing it all at once. “Did you see that? I brought everything in! All in one go.”

  “Great, Ryan, thanks,” she said with a big, genuine smile. The way that Ryan approached the most menial tasks with childlike enthusiasm was only one of the reasons she fell in love with him. It kept their relationship fun and playful. “I’m very impressed.”

  “I know. It was tough, to choose between whether to become a professional hockey player or a professional grocery bag carrier. But I think I made the right decision,” he joked, flashing his gorgeous smile. He rooted through the bags and asked, “What’d you buy, anyway?”

  “Nothing special. Just the basics.”

  “Oh yeah? Then what’s this?” Ryan held up a package of Keebler Fudge Stripes cookies.

  “Those are mine.” Jenna tried to grab them from him, but he held the cookies above his head, which was too far for her to reach. He loved to tease her and did so as often as he could. “You aren’t allowed to have those anyway. No sweets during the season, you said.”

  “I don’t ever remember saying that.” Ryan pouted as part of the joke, and then he shrugged and pretended to reluctantly give the cookies back.

  “I’m hiding these. And I’ll count them, so I’ll know if you’ve gotten into them, so don’t. And the barbecue chips, too, stay out of those.”

  He whined, “Did you get any food for me?”

  “Yes. All this food is for you. Except for the cookies and chips,” she replied. He leaned on the counter and gave her his best “sad puppy” face. He knew it worked like a charm. It made Jenna laugh, and she couldn’t resist. “Yes, I got you those cheese curls you like so much. Just don’t eat them all at once, okay? You’ll just complain to me later that I bought them for you and somehow blame it on me that you couldn’t portion them out.”

  It was too late. Ryan had already opened the bag and shoved a handful into his mouth. “But seriously, I’m so hungry. When are we eating?”

  “Soon.” She stashed the cookies in the cupboard, knowing full well that she’d have to find a better hiding place for them later. “What do you want? Your favorite?”

  “Aw, babe, you know what I like,” he said with another smile. “You treat me so good.”

  “I know.” She grinned up at him, and he leaned in for a quick kiss. “I’ll start it as soon as I get everything put away. But if you help, then I can start lunch now.”

  They worked as a team; Ryan filled the deep freezer while she opened a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and buttered the bread to make grilled cheese sandwiches. They were an efficient pair, and the table was set for lunch within ten minutes. As Jenna set a plate down in front of him, he grinned up at her, and she squeezed his bicep as she went back to the counter to get the mugs of soup. Ryan had always thought that she had been a great girlfriend—and now he could see that she was a wonderful fiancée, and that she would also make the best wife. He knew he was the luckiest guy in the world.

  After he ate, Ryan reclined on the couch. He was tired and a little sore from exerting himself at training camp. While he had worked out regularly over the summer—after he had taken a long, relaxing vacation with Jenna, of course—to get into shape for the new season, he wasn’t used to the intensity for which the team was striving.

  He was a good captain because he had a solid rapport with all of his teammates and he was well liked by everyone, from the Blackhawks staff to the media to the team’s fan base. He was personable and easy going, which went a long way in the locker room. And Ryan did work hard on the ice, but that didn’t show up in his statistics like it did for Nick Martin.

  Jenna walked into the living room and enjoyed the sight of her fiancé kicking back and watching TV. He had his arms stretched over his head, which made his shirt ride up and exposed his happy trail leading from his navel into his drawstring pants. Ryan was tall and muscular, strong and powerful. And hot. Jenna thought he was the hottest man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  She joined him on the couch, scooting behind him so she could rub his shoulders. They had been together for so long that Jenna could tell when he was achy and where he hurt by the subtleties of his body language. “Hard day?”

  Ryan closed his eyes. Jenna may have had small hands, but they felt better than the trainers’ or the masseuse’s. He probably thought so because, at times, her hands touched more sensitive—and arguably better—places than anyone else’s did. “Yeah, kinda. Coach is really riding us. Says it’s our year.”

  Kneading her hands into his neck, she agreed with him. “I think it could be. You guys did so well last year, going so far into the playoffs.”

  “Mmhmm.” Ryan was enjoying the massage too much to talk.

  Several moments of silence passed before Jenna mustered up the strength to broach the next subject. “So, your mother called me again today.”

  He opened one eye. “Yeah? And what did she want?”

  “To know if we picked a date yet.”

  “But she called me yesterday and asked that, and I told her ‘no.’”

  “I know,” Jenna sighed. “She’s really pushing for us to make a decision.”

  Ryan pulled away and turned to look at Jenna. The whole situation was puzzling to him. Their parents weren’t the ones who were getting married, so he didn’t know why they cared so much. “I don’t get what the big rush is. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, and we only just got engaged. Why are they getting so involved in this?”

/>   “I know, babe, I get it. After all, I’m the one who’s dealing with your mother. And my mother.” She took a deep breath to calm herself down. “It’s just that I have enough on my plate already because my semester starts next week and the WAG’s charity is really pushing to get a start for the events during the holiday season. So, I was thinking, maybe we should just pick a date, and probably start a guest list, and they’ll stop nagging us.”

  “Do you really think that’ll stop them?”

  “No, but I hope it will.” She tried a new tactic. Throughout this process, her pride was starting to take a major hit, considering her fiancé wouldn’t have a serious conversation with her about when he wanted to marry her. “Would it be that bad though? To set a date? I mean, it would make everything so much easier. We’ve been dealing with this for the past month now.”

  “But why should we make these decisions under these circumstances? Because our parents want us to? You just told me how busy you are right now, and I know I’m busy with the season starting up. So let’s just wait to start planning until we have the time to do it on our own terms. That sounds better to me than doing it just because someone wants me to.”

  Jenna bit her lip. She didn’t want Ryan to be forced to pick a date, and she certainly didn’t have it in her to be the one to force him. Ryan wasn’t the type of guy who would respond to bullying anyway. But she didn’t want to have to continue to listen to both her mother and Ryan’s mother on top handling all her other responsibilities.

  She reached for Ryan and began to rub his shoulders again, and he relaxed and leaned back. “Okay. But you have to call your mom and tell her that we’re holding off on the wedding planning. I can deal with my mom, but I can’t deal with yours, too.”

  “Fine,” he agreed, closing his eyes as Jenna’s hands worked magic on his aches and pains. “Oh, in a little more. Yeah, that’s the spot.”

  Chapter 3

  Jenna woke up in the morning, stretched as she lay on her side, and then tried to roll off the bed. It was going to be a long day, and she needed to start it pronto. There was just too much to do! The beginning of a new season was always difficult on her as a player’s girlfriend—this year around, a fiancée!—but especially so when the team embarked on road trips for extended periods of time. It reminded her of her last two years of undergrad when Ryan was off playing in Chicago, and she had to balance her classwork and his schedule if she wanted to talk to him at all. At least this time around, it wasn’t for months. Oh, and not to mention everything she had to do, too.

  Ryan snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, so her back was against his front. She felt as he buried his face into her hair and also felt his half-hard erection against her back.

  “Good morning, Ryan,” she mumbled, trying to move his arm so she could get up.

  He tightened his grip and spoke, his voice muffled. “Why does your hair always smell so good?”

  “Because I wash it. You should try it some time,” she teased, once again trying to pull away.

  “Don’t get up yet. Stay in bed with me.”

  “But I have class today,” she argued, as Ryan grabbed her shoulders and turned her around so she was looking at him. Their faces were inches apart, and she peered into his eyes. This morning, they looked green. Sometimes they looked blue, sometimes gray, and sometimes almost hazel. Right now, though, they were green; and that was Jenna’s favorite. His soft, brown hair was flat on the side that had been pressed against the pillow and was spiked on the other. When his bedhead was so severe, it meant he needed a haircut.

  He slid a finger beneath the thin strap of her tank top and pulled it down her shoulder. “We leave for Edmonton for the season opener after tonight’s preseason game. You can skip class for one day, hmm?”

  “I only have this class once a week. And it’s grad school. Every class is important.”

  “I’ll be gone for a week,” he continued as he pulled the front of her top down to reveal her chest. He cupped her freed breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb over her nipple with slow, elaborate strokes.

  Jenna knew where this was headed, and she knew she should put a stop to it now if she wanted her day to start properly. Then again, this was a great way to begin the morning; she just wished that it wouldn’t make her late, but it would. And she hated being late. “That’s an exaggeration. More like four or five days. If you’re worried about missing me, we should meet for lunch before your game so we can talk and spend some quality time together.”

  “No offense, babe, but I can talk to you over the phone from the road. I can’t, however, do this,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he bent his head and sucked her hard nipple into his mouth. He gently clamped his teeth down and flicked it with his tongue.

  “Ry-yan!” Jenna cried, throwing back her head and grabbing fistfuls of his too long hair. At least when his hair was that long, she had something to hold onto.

  It was too late to turn back now; she could already feel her body reacting and preparing itself for him. She couldn’t argue with this definition of quality time.

  He reached between her legs and pressed his palm firmly against that juncture for a short moment before he let go, turned away, and threw his legs over the bed. “But if you have class....”

  “Ugh, you bastard. Get back here and finish what you started!” she ordered, quickly shimmying out of her panties as he smugly smiled, forcibly rolled on top of her, and swiftly placed himself between her spread legs. Jenna let out a small squeak as he suddenly pushed his way inside of her while he closed his eyes and groaned satisfactorily.

  “I’m so glad you saw things my way,” Ryan said gruffly, pulling out and then pressing back in.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she teased as they found their rhythm together. They spent the morning together like that, a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs and movement until Jenna finally had to get up and head to class and Ryan had to go to the rink for his morning skate.

  Ryan met Jenna out at a small café by the United Center for a quick lunch. He hadn’t planned on it originally, but there had been something in her voice that morning that made him text her while she was in class and seriously propose the idea. She had been so thrilled that she responded—even though she was in class. That was something Jenna never did, so Ryan knew she was pleased. She was the type of girl who pledged her undivided attention to whatever was in front of her, and doubly so while she was studying.

  Her enthusiasm for her academic pursuits was undeniable. It was because of her focus that he sat next to her in General Psychology, first semester during his freshman year. She paid attention in class and took detailed, precise notes in her neat handwriting, and he photocopied them whenever he had to miss class because of games. Then he asked to borrow them after the classes he attended, to “make sure he didn’t miss anything important.” That was the only semester he went to every class that his hockey schedule allowed. She hung out in the lounge for an hour before class started and made study guides for the exams, and he kept her company and quizzed her. That was the only A grade he had ever honestly earned.

  Now he watched as she went on and on about something having to do with her class or whatever. Art History bored Ryan to death, but the topic made her face light up like the Chicago Christmas tree in Daley Plaza. Jenna only took one or two classes each semester as she worked her way toward her Masters at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, because she did so much already with The Blackhawks Wives and Girlfriends Charity because she was the captain’s girl, but it made her happy. That’s all that Ryan cared about. When she was happy, she glowed, and he’d do anything to keep that fire in her lit. He continued to watch as she talked animatedly, even though he wasn’t truly listening.

  “...I’m so excited for this semester’s class. Surrealism is so much fun. I mean, it’s not my favorite art movement, I appreciate the realism of Renaissance so much more, but still, I can’t wait. Picasso! Miró! Chagall! Oh, you know ho
w much I love Chagall. His mosaic in Chase Tower Plaza... I could stare at it all day. It’s so friggin’ big that every time you look at it, you see something new. Something you’ve never noticed before. It never gets boring.”

  “Speaking of ‘so friggin’ big,’” Ryan interrupted her as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out her engagement ring.

  First, Jenna’s mouth opened in a soundless gasp, and her left hand rushed up to cover her mouth. She looked down at her hand next, only presently noticing that the ring was missing from her finger. Then her face deepened to the color of a ripe tomato. “Oh, Ryan! I must have forgotten to put it on after my shower! I’m a horrible girlfriend!”

  He chuckled as she held out her hand to grab it from him, and he proceeded to tease her. “No, you’re not a horrible girlfriend. You’re a horrible fiancée.” Instead of just handing it over, he held her hand and she fanned out her fingers so he could slip it back on, identically to the way he did after she had cried out her yes to his question. Once the ring was back in its proper place, he held onto her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, still embarrassed. “But if someone hadn’t made me late this morning, I wouldn’t have had to rush around. I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”

  “I know, I know,” he replied, finding humor in the way she threw the blame around. “It’s all my fault.”

  “No,” she sighed, looking down at her left hand. With her right, she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, discretely feeling for her earrings, which were attached like always. Jenna had remembered to put them in, but she’d forgotten the ring. It had only been two months since he had proposed, so it was still new to her. After all, two months in comparison to eight years was nothing. Being engaged was going to take some getting used to. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a smile. “Just don’t lose it, okay?”

  “I won’t,” she promised, enjoying the way his thumb rubbed over her fingers. Ryan wasn’t a holding-hands-in-public kind of guy, so she savored these types of moments when he acted that way. The waiter brought their check, and Ryan let go as he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. Jenna placed her hand back in her lap, glancing down at the giant pink diamond. As gaudy and showy as it may have been, it was hers; she’d put in the time, the dedication, and the work. She deserved it. She’d duct tape that damn ring to her hand if she had to, in order to never forget it again.