Page 5 of Hockey Wife

In their standard follow-up to the filing in the Nevada court, Mr. Lyons’s office had discovered that the paperwork was missing. Originally, he’d advised that they petition for an annulment instead of a divorce because the former didn’t require that one of the parties be a resident in Nevada for six weeks. Intoxication was a perfectly valid ground for annulling a marriage—as it should be—and returning the couple to their non-married state. It would be as if it had never happened.

But the paperwork had to make it to its destination first.

Mr. Lyons was all apologies when he discovered the mistake. He’d immediately couriered over duplicates, which now sat on her nightstand. She would have to send them to the other party and get his signature. Again.

Only now it was complicated by the fact her parents knew.

She had used a lawyer not known to them or any one of their numerous companies or the many foundations they chaired. But they’d still found out because the Eye of Goodwin saw all. Whatever happened now, she couldn’t admit that it had all been a mistake. Her parents would never let her live it down. Just another example of Georgia’s propensity to make the worst choices.

“I didn’t tell you because it happened rather quickly, and we wanted to spend more time together. But you’ll like him. He’s very focused and incredibly good at what he does.” Her parents loved hard-working bootstrappers and professional athletes were some of the most driven people on the planet. “And he can’t wait to meet you. It’s just tricky with his schedule—he’s on the road quite a lot, which I know is rough for a newly-married couple. Between that and?—”

“Married?” Her father spluttered. “Did you say married?”

“Oh, Georgia,” her mother murmured.

Shit. If they weren’t talking about that, then what had they heard? She tried to think of something worse than secretly marrying a professional hockey player in Vegas, but nothing came to mind.

“Tell me it isn’t so, darling. Were you drunk? We can get it annulled.” She gripped her father’s arm. “Let’s conference Michael in.”

“No, Mom! That’s not necessary. I was perfectly sober.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “Are you saying that this was … planned?”

Georgia offered a nervy laugh. “I know you think I’m impetuous but I’m not that bad. Of course it was planned!”

“When did this happen?”

She couldn’t lie. Public records and all. “Two months ago. We’ve been keeping quiet about it so we could try to enjoy married life without all the pressure.”

Her father looked concerned. “You think we’d put pressure on you?”

“Mom’s first thought was how to make it disappear.”

Her mom sucked in a breath. “If you’re not going to share such important news, then how do we know it’s what you want? That it wasn’t another one of your …” She waved a hand to fill in the rest. “I’d like to have given one of my daughters away.”

Another thing she’d ruined for them. Marcus took his wife’s hand in his, comforting her for her loss. At least they had each other.

They would never get to see Dani on her wedding day. Was it possible Georgia had done this on purpose—snatched this precious moment from them precisely just so it could belong to her and her alone? That sounded like the kind of thing the selfish surviving twin might do.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet of being a newlywed.”

Her mother sent a sidelong glance toward her husband. “I remember what that was like. Your father and I ran off to Italy for a month after we married.”

“Sometimes you need a little time away,” her father said. “But there are issues that need to be taken care of. Such as a post-nup because I’m guessing there wasn’t a pre-one.”

“No need. He’s a professional hockey player.”

“A what?” Her mother wrinkled her nose.

“Hockey, Pen,” her dad said.

“Oh, does he know Jared? Mimi St. Vincent’s boy? He won silver at the Olympics in Tokyo.”

“That’s field hockey. Amateur, the sport of gentlemen.” Her father smiled at his wife and winked at Georgia. “I’m guessing he plays ice hockey, which is not for amateurs or gentlemen. Right, GiGi?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Even so, he can’t have as much money as you, darling. Or will have.” Penny tilted her head. “We’ll get a post-nup drawn up—unless of course, you’d rather we created a different kind of contract?”

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