Page 28 of Perfectly Wedded

“Isn’t love always worth it?” I reply.

Brendan looks at me for a beat. “Love, yeah. It’s the only reason. Because if you marry for anything else, it’ll come back to bite you.Trust me.”

ELEVEN

Vale

The rest of the week, I get the sense that my teammates are hiding something. They rib me about wanting to get home after practice and accuse me of being distracted by Sloan. They’re merciless with the bedroom jokes (even though the joke’s on them), but I’ve learned not to give any hints. Not even awhiffof a hint. Instead, I hurry out of the locker room with one thing on my mind:Sloan.

Even if they don’t know our secret, there’s a piece of the truth in their accusations. I can’t get my mind off the hot brunette I married—how she made me laugh over dinner last night and what show we’re going to watch as she falls asleep against my shoulder. I can’t stop replaying how she looks when she first wakes, her hair fanning across her shoulders, while I ache to touch her.

Sloan is my weakness, and it’s starting to affect me even when she’s not around.

During shooting drills when Rourke passes me a puck, I fumble it and miss a usual corner shot.

“Your shooting’s off today,” he complains.

“Bad shot,” I mutter.

“Is it the shot, or is thewifeyaffecting your game?” He smirks, and I glowerat him.

I hate the wordwifey. Like Sloan’s some kind of joke. Maybe I’m irritable because his joke hits a little too close to home. I skate over to my cocky teammate and use my six-foot-four frame to tower over him. “That’smy wifeto you.”

“It was a joke,” he replies. “Or have you lost your sense of humor too?” Rourke’s a loose cannon and it doesn’t take much to set him off, but right now, I don’t care.

“I don’t joke about Sloan,” I growl.

“Whatever. Why are you so cranky anyways?”

“I’m not cranky,” I shoot back.

“I think Vegas affected your game,” Rourke says. “You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back.”

“I’ll show you what’s gonna affect your game,” I warn, moving toward him. Rourke skates away before I can do anything stupid.

“Idiot,” I mutter under my breath.

Maybe it’s the pressure of keeping my marriage situation quiet. Or the added pressure from my brother who warned me about breaking things off with Sloan, but I’m not in a good head space.

Leo skates by, then stops in front of me. “You’rebothright. He’s an idiot, and you’re clearly bothered by something that’s affecting your focus. Is it the press? You should just ignore them and move on.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in a new article every day,” I huff, frustration building in my chest. I can see how it’s starting to wear on Sloan. She’s been pulling away from me all week—something I need to fix, and fast. I can’t stand the distance she’s putting between us. Before we were married, everything was so easy, but now things are different between us, more complicated.

“If you’re such an expert on PR, what do you suggest?” I ask Leo.

“Leave town so they can’t bother you,” Leo says.

“Like I can do that. We’re in training camp season.”

“Seriously, you need to get away so the press storm will cease. You’re totally focused on hockey ever since you got back. You need to have more fun. And by fun, I mean with your wife.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Because you’ve been married before...”

“No,” he says. “But if I ever settle down, I know that much.”

Tate circles around me, stopping in front of me. “Today’s surprise might help.”

“What surprise?” I say, looking around.

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