Page 129 of Hockey Wife

“Let’s get an X-ray and see where we stand.”

Georgia put the broom against the wall and set to folding up the tarps. The patio was looking good after she’d wiped down the weather-resistant furniture and added a couple of Treviso lanterns and planters from Restoration Hardware. She had a rug on order and a plan to hit Pottery Barn later for some throw cushions. So it was Banks’s place and a lease at that, but she wanted to make it nice for his family who would be returning for the Round 2 home games.

She cast her gaze over the patio, with its sweeping view to the beach and Lake Michigan. When Banks’s family returned, would this feel different? Would they abandon the charade and accept that this marriage was real? She had no doubt they had work to do, but once the playoffs were over, there would be time for them. They could figure out if this blazing attraction had the potential for more.

The glass door to the patio opened and Banks appeared.

“You’re home!” Her smile faded at seeing his expression and her first instinct was Connie.

Her second was to open her arms. He fell into them, hugging her like she was his lifeline, the reason for everything.

“What happened?”

“I’m on IR.” He drew back. “Injured Reserve.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That must be awful.” He didn’t respond, so she filled the silence. “But it’s also brave. To admit you’re not quite at a hundred percent. I’m proud of you. Tara said you guys are always so tough and will never fess up to an injury.”

He stiffened, and his expression turned dark. “I didn’t fess up. They knew already. When did you talk to Tara?”

“About a week ago.”

“And you discussed my injury?”

“I might have mentioned it.” Best to be honest. “Okay, I did mention it.”

He released her, rubbed a hand across his mouth. “Why would you do that? She’s married to the general manager.”

“We were talking about how stoic you all are. I worried that you were overdoing it.”

“So you blab to another wife? Anything I tell you is between us, Georgia. How hard is that to understand?”

“Even when it’s at risk to your health?”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “It’s two more weeks, maybe a month. That’s all I needed, just time to get through this so I can finally get what I’ve wanted for years. Years, Georgia!”

“And you’re going to be in pain that whole time. Maybe hurt yourself to the point where you won’t be able to have a decent quality of life once you retire.”

“Who cares about that? I’d have the Cup and a ring. I’d have achieved what I set out to do.”

She found it hard to believe that Tara would take what she’d heard and run that up the chain. But Georgia probably should have kept her mouth closed.

“I wanted to know if it was normal. And if the team thinks it’s serious enough that they can’t just spit and slap a bandage on it, then that says it all. You’re not fit to play.”

Digging her heels in just made him angrier. “This was none of your business.”

“Why? Because I’m your fake wife? Is it not enough that I care about you and want only the best for you?”

“That’s not—fuck, Georgia, that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“I had a shot in these playoffs and now I don’t.”

The defeat in his voice made her recalibrate her response. He needed comfort not argument. “You have next year.”

He balled his hands at his hips. “If they bother renewing my contract. And even if by some miracle they do, now I’m on their radar. They’ll be watching me like a hawk. The slightest twinge and I’ll be on IR.”

For a man as dependent on his physicality as Banks—as any professional athlete—that had to be crushing. He had said he had a couple of years left, maximum. With this latest blow, he might not make it back on the ice at all.

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