Page 44 of Hockey Wife

But she drank herbal tea in the evening. He’d seen the mug on the coffee table.

He fixed the coffee and doctored it to her liking. She took eggs, bread, and butter out of the fridge, but he laid a hand on her arm.

“Sit. I’ve got this.”

“But you must be exhausted.”

“Still buzzing from the trip.”

She bit her lip. “Okay. Like I’m going to say no to a man who cooks.” She took her coffee and sat at the table with one knee up to her chest, revealing the soft, smooth-looking skin of the back of her thigh. “So how are your friends taking your marital status?”

“My friends?”

“Your teammates.”

He cracked the eggs into a bowl, added salt and pepper. Checking the fridge for milk, he found it full of new supplies—fruit, salads, things in plastic containers. Weird to see her stuff mixing with his. Weird but nice.

“They think it’s hilarious. The press are asking dumb questions, too.”

“Like what?”

He grabbed the whisk from the utensils jar. “Did I push for the trade to be with you? How do I get along with your parents? What’s our favorite nightclub? You know, perfectly normal queries for a hockey player after a game.”

That made her smile. “Sorry?”

“Sure you are. What about you? Any teasing from your crew?”

“About what you’d expect, mostly about how drunk I must have been. Though Tara said we can’t have been that bad, that the marriage clerk wouldn’t issue a license if you’re too trashed.” She peeked up at him through the veil of her dark blonde lashes. He saw vulnerability there.

Were we that drunk, husband?

No, wife, we were not.

“My friend Oliver thinks I’ve betrayed our pact.”

He paused the egg whisking. “Your pact?”

“Just this joke we have. If we’re single at thirty, we should marry each other, so we’re not left on the shelf.”

Georgia’s oldest friend, the guy from the party. He’d have to keep an eye on him.

“Known him a long time, then?” He turned away, not wanting to see any fondness cross her face.

“Since we were kids. Our parents are friends and we kissed once.”

“When?” The word was out before he could claw it back.

“In third grade.”

Relief warred with desire to wring this guy’s scrawny little neck. “And he’s been dining off that memory for years, I bet.”

That made her laugh. “Sure. Oliver’s dating someone, so nothing to worry about there.”

“And you’re married.”

He faced her, needing to see how that affected her. A blush, which was so damn perfect it made his dick twitch.

“I am.”

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