Page 22 of Hockey Wife

At his age, he was no longer interested in hanging at clubs or even attending gatherings at his teammates’ houses, unless it involved cards and beer. A quiet cookout he could do. Maybe a night out at a bar with the boys. He should be there now, but everyone was zeroed in on O’Malley’s love life and his various schemes to stay out of prison. Banks had already said his piece and had no desire to rehash it in a group setting, especially as he needed to rest his shoulder and not let on how much pain he was in.

An ice bath would be good. A pack on his shoulder and a couple of whiskeys to help him sleep would be better.

Instead he had Georgia on his mind. He had been dismissive and rude to her the other night, annoyed at her for showing up and dangling the possibilities of a rematch in front of him. Residual anger at how things had ended between them had colored his perspective.

He was here to talk calmly about next steps.

Entry to Castle Apartments was a little too easy. The doorman recognized him immediately and told him “Ms. Georgia is on the fourth floor. Go on up, Mr. Banks.”

It’s Mr. Bankowski, but whatever.

Any concerns that she might be licking her wounds vanished as he stepped out of the elevator and registered the vibrating bass. Circling a couple mid-grope in the hallway, he followed the thump-thump to its origin.

He checked his watch. Almost eleven o’clock. He’d hoped to find her alone, maybe a little sleepy. Kind of like she’d looked as she fell into a deep slumber in his arms …

No, not like that. Forget that.

He really should be taking care of his shoulder and not chasing down his mistake. But he’d put this off for too long already. Give it another day and the tabloids would be talking about how Georgia was pregnant with twins and which color they were picking for the nursery.

He pushed the door to her apartment open. That Miley Cyrus song was playing, the she-anthem about flowers that seemed to be on an eternal loop when he visited his sisters and nieces. No one paid him any heed as he walked through the packed entryway, except to instantly move aside because he was a husky guy and people usually did that when he entered a room.

He scanned the space quickly, eyeing it like he’d just cleared the boards. The barriers to his progress. The defenders in his way. The goal where he would soon sink the puck.

She was currently marked. Some guy in a suit, extra douche points for the matching vest. Ignoring him, Banks took a good look at her.

His wife.

People flitted around her, butterflies to whatever sustaining nectar she dispensed into their sad little worlds. A half-smile. A flutter of her eyelashes. A low chuckle and a quiet word.

Dressed in pink—again—she laughed at something Suit Boy said, but even from here he could see it. Her eyes, usually so blue and bright, were dull. Faking it.

Time to put some life back into them.

He could come in from the side, out-flank the mark, but he figured direct was better. Just like the moment in the Empty Net when he knew bone-deep that she was there, Georgia seemed to sense his presence.

Their gazes locked. The music fell away. A weird shiver shuddered through him, some sense of déjà vu, because yeah, they’d been here before.

Christ, he wanted her.

He shouldn’t, not after everything he knew about her. How she discarded him without a second thought. How the paperwork mistake and her cash flow problem were the only reasons she sought him out again. It was purely chemical attraction, nothing more.

Yet, here he was, thinking of ways to have her all to himself.

She stood as he approached, probably because she felt at a disadvantage while sitting. He had at least a foot and a half on her.

“Celebrating your impending divorce?”

“Oh, I don’t need an excuse. Every day’s a party around here.”

Her defiant tone didn’t quite match her expression. So she needed to play at tough girl for a moment. He’d give it to her, but not for long.

“Hi, I’m Oliver, Georgia’s oldest friend.” Suit Boy offered a hand and, after a second, Banks took it.

“Banks. Georgia’s current husband.”

Her little gasp was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

Giving himself a second to enjoy her reaction, he released Suit Boy’s hand and turned back to Georgia. “Let’s take a walk.”

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