“It’s a real pleasure to meet you,” Nora says—not with a handshake—but a hug. My mimosa glass is empty and she doesn’t have a beverage, so it’s a tighter-than-normal hug.
“Likewise,” I assure her as we pull apart. “And congratulations on your marriage to Tacker. I missed a lot this summer.”
Nora’s eyes are warm and understanding. We may have never met before, but I’m sure she knows Jim and I have been separated. It’s not a secret at all.
“Well…” Nora laughs lightly. “You’ll get caught up by the end of this brunch, I guarantee you. Want a word of advice?”
I blink. “Um… sure.”
“Don’t even bother trying to hold back with any of these women.” Her gaze is direct, and it seems to be filled with sage wisdom. “They will hound you to open up your soul to them. They are relentless, and they will strip you bare. Trust me… I know this from personal experience.”
I’m not sure what my expression says, but it must mirror the slight fear those words instill. Nora recognizes it, shaking her head as if to diminish some of the weight. “What I mean is that these women care deeply. Doesn’t matter that you and Jim are separated or that you’re trying to work things out, and even that might be an unknown. The mere fact you were invited here tells me these women already care about you. Anything they do to push you to share your burdens with them is done out of love.”
“That’s… sweet,” is all I can think to say. Still a bit scary, but mainly… sweet.
A shrill whistle pierces the air, and we all look to the source. It’s Pepper with a goofy grin on her face. “Okay, everyone… stop yammering for a minute and sit so we can order our food.”
Nora sweeps her hand toward the table, then follows me. She takes the chair to my right. Clarke slides into the one on my left, giving me a cheeky grin. She’s the one I feel the most affinity with since her fall into love with Aaron was apparently filled with fear and mistrust. We have that in common.
A waitress appears and makes her way around the table, taking drink orders. The one mimosa was enough. I ask for coffee, as do most of the women except the very pregnant Blue, who requests water.
We all pick up our menus, perusing them while talking. Mollie, who will soon be marrying Kane and sits almost opposite, says, “I don’t know how you girls put up with the constant barrage of women who want a crack at your man. Especially when you’re out together somewhere. They just come right up and start fawning and sometimes even pawing. It’s outrageous.”
Mollie is the newest one in this group to fall in love with a professional hockey player, and puck bunnies can be a problem. Some of the ladies start offering advice. Pepper says she turns threatening if a woman doesn’t get the hint, while Regan says she doesn’t like confrontation, but Dax is good at putting them off.
“What about you, Ella?” Blue asks from my left.
My eyebrows rise, and my cheeks turn a bit pink to be in the spotlight of this new group of friends. “What about me?”
“You’re the veteran wife here,” she replies breezily. “You’ve been married the longest. You came into the league with Jim. You should know more about how to deal with this than we do.”
I laugh lightly, now understanding why they are all looking at me eagerly as if I’m about to dispense the most important piece of advice.
“Well,” I drawl, pulling my coffee cup a little nearer to me. “You first need to discuss it with your guy. How does it make you feel? If it’s a bother, he’s your first line of protection when you’re out and about. He has to set the tone according to your needs.”
Clarke nods her head effusively. “I didn’t even have the talk with Aaron, but damn if he didn’t get downright nasty with some women who interrupted one of our dates.”
“Bet that was hot…” Pepper sighs, and all the ladies laugh while Clarke blushes.
“You and Jim were high school sweethearts?” Brooke asks.
I take a sip of coffee, smiling fondly as I return it to the table. “Yeah… started dating when we were sixteen. I followed him to his first team when he was drafted at eighteen. Got married after we got pregnant with Lucy when we were both twenty.”
“So young,” Nora murmurs beside me. “It’s a testament to how strong your marriage must be because getting married and having a baby at that age is hard.”
“It was hard, but we made it through,” I say, and then, without any warning or hint I’m going to blab—and perhaps because Nora warned me not to even try to keep secrets—I admit to the group. “Or at least I think we’re going to make it through.”
“I think it’s fabulous the two of you are trying,” Willow commends me.
“It’s all Jim,” I confess. “He came after me… declared his intentions.”
“That’s hot, too.” Pepper sighs again.
Yes, it’s hot. But it’s also lovely, sweet, and romantic. And without any further prompting, my mouth opens and a waterfall of information comes pouring out.
I start at the beginning—why I asked for a separation. I get plenty of sympathetic nods and a few, “I’d ask him to leave, too, girl.”
I recount how he stalked David and me at the food festival, and pretty much threw his hat into the competition ring against him. That prompted another, “That’s hot,” from Pepper.
Him showing up at odd times in my gazebo, coupled with the story of the promise ring, has them all sighing.
I tell every bit of it, including that we have reconnected strongly in the bedroom without giving details. I’m interrupted frequently with questions, but everyone seems transfixed to learn about the process we’re going through on how to fix a marriage.
“And just yesterday, he showed up at my house. We were supposed to go spend the day doing things he loves because he’s just been doing so much for me. Instead, he insisted on staying home and watching movies, eating bad food, and…”
My cheeks turn red, and Willow fills in the blanks. “Having lots of sex, right?”
Laughing, I nod.
Except, we didn’t stay in bed all day. We stayed the morning there, had sex again, and then showered. But Jim suggested we go to a local animal shelter to get the lay of the land on what types of dogs might be available for adoption. Lucy is set on a puppy, and we frankly didn’t even know if they had those at shelters. We had a late lunch at one of our favorite restaurants, and we walked hand in hand along the canal, talking about old times.
It was a perfect day, and we made it home not long before Lucy was due to arrive on the bus.
I asked Jim to stay for dinner, but he declined and it shocked me at first.
“I don’t want to make things too confusing to Lucy,” he’d said, standing just inside the foyer and not willing to come in any farther. “She knows we’re trying, but I don’t want to get her hopes up when there’s still a chance they could get dashed.”
That was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on my head because he was right.
Jim had pulled me in close, then brushed his mouth against mine. “Until you commit a promise back to me, Ella—that you’re ready to give this a real try—we keep things a little cool around Lucy.”
I hated he was right.
And the message was clear. Jim would continue doing what he was doing. Still, until I made the decision to open myself up fully and trust in the man he had seemingly become to keep our marriage together, we couldn’t progress any further as a family.
A realization hits me hard, almost sucking the breath out of me. I inhale deeply, then blurt out, “I think I’m going to ask Jim to come back home.”
There’s silence around the table, all the women looking at me with wide eyes.
I nod effusively. “Yes, I think it’s time. It’s like Clarke said… if the reward is bigger than the risk, you gotta take it, right?”
I swivel toward Clarke, and she nods emphatically. “Right.”
There’s a chorus from the women, all with positive affirmations and delight I’ve seemin
gly made a huge decision while pouring out my whole story to them.
“When will you let him know?” Regan asks.
“Not tonight,” I say quickly. It’s game night and while Lucy and I are going to watch, we won’t be seeing Jim after. He’s leaving the next morning with the team for a game up in Seattle. They’ll be staying Sunday night and back Monday morning. “Jim said he wants to whisk me away for a little getaway on Monday when they get back since the team has a day and a half off. We’re not going anywhere really… just a day and night at the Ritz. A romantic overnight date. I’ll tell him then.”
“Do you need someone to watch Lucy?” Brooke asks. All the women nod, and some volunteer.
I shake my head, smiling at my new friends that all want to help me. “No, thanks. She’ll stay at a classmate’s house as it’s a school night, and they’re good with the puppy coming to stay.”
“Puppy?” Mollie exclaims. “You didn’t say anything about a puppy?”
I have to take a moment to explain to Mollie about the two-week foster program and how Jim and I are going to get Lucy a dog next week after we have to take Brody back. This starts a cacophony of questions about what type of dog, but the conversation eventually breaks up into pockets as the waitress comes around to take our food orders.
Nora leans over to nudge me. “You look very settled and happy.”
I tilt my head. “As opposed to…?”
“When you walked in,” she replies knowingly. It’s her job to read people, so I don’t question it. “You had some weight on your shoulders. It’s gone now that you’ve committed to starting over with Jim.”
“I feel it,” I murmur. “Feel it in my very bones that it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m happy for you,” Nora returns. “Jim is a very lucky man.”
“And I’m a lucky woman.”
So incredibly lucky my husband is made of grit and determination, and he refused to let his marriage die.
CHAPTER 17
Steele
I put away the last of the laundry I had done—a skill I’ve become adept at over the previous six months since Ella always did ours—and check my watch. I’ve got another three hours before I need to be at Ella’s to pick her up for our little overnight getaway to the Ritz.
Just another brilliant idea I had to woo my wife back into my arms permanently, and because I’ve missed her like fucking crazy the last few days. She sent me a text about half an hour ago telling me how excited she was, ending it by saying, I’m going to do things to you tonight that will have you howling.
That left me grinning and with a slight hard-on for a while.
The team plane landed back in Phoenix early this morning. The players dispersed, having the next thirty-six hours off from any commitment to the Vengeance. It was a rare treat and I knew there was nothing more perfect than to whisk Ella away somewhere romantic.
Our game against Seattle was hard-fought and with no small amount of bitterness, we lost in overtime 2-1. Still, I don’t feel there was anything we left on the table. It’s just that last night, Seattle played better than us. It happens.
I still have to pack an overnight bag, which won’t take me long, so I settle in at my kitchen table to do some online bill paying.
Another skill I had to learn, as Ella had managed the finances when we were together.
I do know if Ella and I get back together, I’m going to need to step in and help with more of the household running. It’s a lot of fucking work, and I never knew how much she did behind the scenes. If there’s one good thing that came out of me being asked to leave my own home, it forced me, at the age of thirty-three, to do a hell of a lot of growing up.
My phone rings and I nab it off the table, seeing Coach Perron’s number. Because I’m in such a good mood, knowing that within a matter of hours I’ll be in Ella’s magnificent presence, I’m cheerful when I answer. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Steele,” he says, addressing me by my last name, as he does all the players when talking business. “I need you to come into the arena.”
For a moment, I’m confused. It’s my day off. The day I want to spend with Ella. Our next game is two days away. “Excuse me?”
“Dax went in for an MRI on his shoulder this morning, and there’s a small tear in his rotator cuff. He’s out for the foreseeable future, which means you’re moving up to the first line. I’m calling a meeting now with you, Bishop, and Tacker to discuss it, then I want my first line on the ice this afternoon. You’ve got two days to get in sync with these guys. You know our next game is too important to fuck up.”
Indeed. We play the Cold Fury Wednesday night, the team we defeated for the Cup last season.
“Coach… I, um…” I stutter, wanting to tell him about my plans with Ella. Surely, we can get ice time tomorrow, and that will be enough.
But I don’t finish those thoughts.
Because this is important. It is my boss—Coach—telling me that I’m moving up from the second line to the first line, and it is imperative I have as much time with the first-line guys to become cohesive. Without a doubt, they’re getting the same call and ditching whatever personal plans they had to meet me for some practice.
“Yeah… sure,” I end up saying instead, my heart heavy and a pit in my stomach. “What time do you want me there?”
“Two PM, my office. And then I want you guys out on the ice after that. Tomorrow morning, game films and more ice time. That’s the initial plan for now.”
“Got it,” I murmur.
“See you in a few hours,” Coach says before disconnecting.
I sit my phone down, the pit in my stomach growing a bit heavier. It’s enough of a letdown to us both that I’m going to have to cancel on Ella, but I’m dreading what her reaction will be.
The primary reason she asked me to leave was that I put her after hockey, and while I’ve done a lot to show her I’m in this marriage and she’s my priority, I’m afraid she won’t understand this at all.
I’m afraid this might erase every bit of the work we’ve done to get back on track.
“Fuck,” I curse out loud to my empty house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I can’t even be happy I’m moving up to the first line, because I’d much rather have my wife invite me back into her heart and our life together.
But this simply cannot be declined.
I don’t have a choice but to do this to her.
Pushing up from the table, I ignore the bills. I don’t bother with an overnight bag. I merely grab my keys before heading out to my car. From within, as I drive to Ella’s house, I call the Ritz and cancel our reservation.
♦
I pull into our driveway, and I just sit there a moment. It’s not that I need time to find the right words, but I need to remind myself this is a legitimate job request that’s been made of me. There have been countless times over my entire career I’ve not been able to be a husband or a father because there are instances where the job must come first.
I remember once a few years ago when Lucy came down with the flu and I was away on an extended road trip. Ordinarily, that would have been something Ella would have handled, but she got sick with it, too. They were both pretty bad off.
Luckily, some of the hockey wives stepped in and helped them both. They were taken to the doctor, and poor Ella had to have a saline infusion because she was so dehydrated. It fucking killed me when I talked to her on the phone, and she piteously begged me to come back.
I couldn’t, of course.
And Ella didn’t mean that as she had admitted later when I returned, and she’d gotten better. She had been delirious with fever and dehydration, and she didn’t even remember the conversation. She laughed it off, even telling me she would have kicked my ass if I’d have flown back for something that was completely handled.
I thought Ella knew that sometimes the job did come first, and we handled it the best way we knew how.
Will I get that from her now?
Will she understand? Will she be excited at the opportunity for me to move to the first line?
Is what I’ve given her the last several weeks enough to show my commitment to making her happy?
With a sigh, I get out of my car and trudge to the door. It takes a bit after ringing it for Ella to answer, and I see why. She’s fresh out of a shower with wet hair and a robe wrapped tight.
She stares in surprise, but then gives me a welcoming smile. “What are you doing here so early?”
Her smile falls, and her expression becomes alarmed. “Oh, God… what happened? Did someone die?”
Well, if I wondered what vibe I was projecting, I have my answer.
Shaking my head, I say, “No one died, but I have some bad news. Can I come in?”
“Of course,” she replies, sympathy heavy in her voice. She has no clue what’s occurred or to whom something had befallen, but she’s ready to be supportive. It makes me that much more leery of telling her the truth.
I have no choice, though.
After I enter and shut the door, I waste no time beating around the bush. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel our trip to the Ritz.”
Ella’s face slackens as her eyes go flat. Her tone is detached, and I can feel her pulling back in spirit. “And why is that?”
“Dax injured his shoulder and is out. I’m moving to the first line, and I have to go in and meet with the other guys. Coach wants us on the ice to practice.”
“But you practice with these guys all the time,” she counters. And I expected this. Ella knows everything about professional hockey, inside and out. I do indeed practice with the first line frequently for just such reasons.
I scrub my hand through my hair in frustration, knowing nothing I say will make it better. “We’ve got an important game coming up against the Cold Fury. Coach wants us to put in extra ice time.”
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