Page 71 of Hockey Wife

“But …”

“I couldn’t juggle this life and what was needed to make it all work. But now, this—what’s happening here—has brought what I’ve been missing into focus. How I need to make some changes to figure out what comes next.”

“And my presence here is helpful?” She placed verbal quotes around that last word.

“Not in the slightest.” He grinned. “But your presence here has made me realize that I need to learn to … adapt. To let someone else in.”

Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Before she could get ahead of herself, he spoke again.

“Not that you’re the someone. I know that’s not what you signed on for. More that you’re helping me realize that compromise is the essence of relationships. With my teammates. The people in my life. Even a creature that makes me sneeze.”

“You know what else is the essence of relationships? Com-mun-i-ca-tion.” She finger-tapped each syllable against his hard chest. Oh my, that felt good, though his dismissal of her as “the someone” dampened the pleasure slightly. “You should have told me about your allergy, and we could have figured out a plan together.”

He inhaled deep and there it was, that lovely skitter of sensation she felt at watching this stoic man think. The way he was looking at her right now was doing major things to her libido.

“I didn’t want you to get second thoughts. About us.”

They were an us? “You thought I’d bail if you told me? Haven’t you heard? I need this marriage to look real. But you know what else I need? For my husband to talk to me about his health.”

He placed a hand over her finger, trapped it against his chest. “Cheddar deserves a home, too.”

So sweet. “And he’ll have one. This place is large enough that we can carve out a space for him so he’s not contaminating where you live. For God’s sake, Banks, you need to be in top form for the playoffs!”

But she wouldn’t forget how he’d let Cheddar jump on him with no complaint. Her enduring, stoic, magnanimous husband.

They were close now and she could feel her heels lifting, her calves stretching, her lips moving closer to his.

Voices trickled through the bated-breath silence, the female murmurs of their guests. Connie must be awake.

She drew back. Banks blinked.

“We should eat lunch,” she said.

“Yeah, but something else. I need to know if …”

“If what?”

“It’s okay to touch you. Show you affection that’s a bit more natural than a photo pose. In front of Gran.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Can you give me examples?”

“Just touching your back perhaps. Or a light pat on?—”

“My ass?”

“Funny how you go there.”

Funny how you don’t. “I just assumed that would be how a big lug like you would treat his woman. Possessive ass grabs.”

Manifesting seemed to be as good a strategy as any.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a gentle touch of my fingertips to your spine.”

Not nearly enough. “You’re very touchy-feely with your mom and gran. I assumed you’d be like that with your girlfriend. Or wife.”

“I would be.” If this were real was the unspoken coda. “But I’m aware that this is awkward for you.”

“I’d be fine with you touching me.” She moved in closer, pressed her hand to his chest. “How would you feel if I touched you? Like this?”

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