Page 48 of Hockey Wife

His thumb was on her wrist, rubbing back and forth. Soothing her when he was the one who needed comfort. “You worried about me?”

“Yes, I am! I need you intact so I can divorce you without guilt and people won’t accuse me of abandoning my invalid husband.”

Huffing what sounded like a laugh, he pulled her a little closer. “I like that you’re worried about me.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. Because when I worry about people, I am all up in their business.”

“And what form does this caretaking take? Gloopy pasta?”

“You said it was good!”

“I was trying to instill confidence in your housewifely duties.” He squinted. “Listen, about what I said back there?—”

She cut him off. “I’ve figured out why you got all crotchety.”

“Oh yeah?”

Their joined hands were still suspended between them in no-man’s land. She pressed back until they touched his chest, careful not to glance against his bruised flesh. God, the heat of him.

“I think you got all irritable, throwing your silly accusations around, because … you like me.”

“I do, huh?” More amusement. Oh, laugh, Big Guy, laugh away.

“Yep. You didn’t enjoy the notion that I might have gone into our Vegas adventure with an agenda. Just like you were annoyed because I panicked and sent you those annulment papers without any discussion. You’re the kind of man who doesn’t like to be dismissed, and I haven’t done a good job of giving you the attention you crave.”

His lips almost curved. “I don’t crave attention, Georgia. I just thought we could be adults about the divorce, that’s all. I shouldn’t have said that about your parents. That was below the belt.”

“Is there a reason why you went there?”

He sighed and took a moment to consider her question. “We’re not the most obvious pair, are we? I’m a good deal older, don’t enjoy the limelight, and am at a different place in my life. You’re fresh and young and light up every room you’re in.” He shook his head. “Just stating the facts as I see them.”

Her heart was all aflutter. They came from vastly different worlds, that was for sure. But that night, they had created a world purely for them.

“I’m sorry for being a jerk. Forgive me, Georgia.”

Look at us being all mature. “I accept your apology, and I apologize if you ever felt unimportant, then or now. I know what that’s like. I should have been more respectful, especially about the annulment. It just seemed like another one of my fuckups and I thought the faster I fix it, the less likely someone would find out. It wasn’t a judgment on you or what happened. It was all about me. You get that, don’t you?”

He stared at her, those gorgeous brown eyes changing to a warm whiskey hue.

“I get it.”

The words were spoken gruffly, barely concealing a subtext she didn’t quite understand. She would have questioned it, but she’d overstayed her welcome.

She drew back. Released his hand. Hated how it felt to not be wrapped in that heat and safety.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She gestured at his body, then cringed on realizing how that sounded.

“Might be best if I got some sleep.” His deep inhale drew her attention to his chest. Only this time she was focused on the sheer perfection of his physique rather than the darkened skin, badges of his pain.

Funnily enough, he was also caught up in the staring contest.

“That shirt …” His gaze raked over her. “Is mine.”

Her Vegas souvenir. She might have worn it a couple of times since, another layer to keep the Chicago winter and grief at bay. It still carried his scent, something like cedar and citrus, though it was fading.

Now the way he was looking at her and how he uttered the word “mine” sent a bolt of lust through her.

“You gave it to me that night because I was cold.” She pulled it off one shoulder. “You can have it back.”

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