Page 12 of Broken Promises

I look over at my wife. Her lilac hair is down in soft waves that frame her sweet face. Although, she keeps pointing out that I’m the only one that thinks she’s sweet. It’s probably because of the scowl she usually wears around other people.

“What?” she asks when she catches me staring at her. Her blue eyes have small specks of gold in them. I haven’t noticed that before. “You okay, hockey boy?”

“Sorry,” I mumble and shake my head. “I think it just hit me, what you’re doing for me.”

She smiles and nudges my arm with her shoulder. “We would do anything for each other. That’s just how it is.”

She says it so simply. I guess it is that simple because she’s right. We would do absolutely anything for each other. The fact that she’s possibly in real danger makes my chest constrict and my pulse race every time I think about it. When she left my apartment last night after our quick wedding, I stayed up mostof the night wondering if I should just retire now so I can stay by her side to protect her. I shot myself down pretty fast because I know she would hate that. It would also have made getting married pointless.

I kiss the back of her hand. “Thank you, Princess.”

Her smile brightens, and she leans her head on my arm. “You’re welcome, hockey boy.”

“Holy shit. You didn’t lie.” Willa’s head snaps up at Diego’s voice. She immediately scowls at him, and I laugh loudly. “You have an actual fiancée.”

“I’m his wife,” Willa says, now fully glaring, which just makes me laugh harder.

“I meant no insult, Mrs. Monroe,” Diego says, smiling and thinking he’s going to charm her. I lean back in my chair to watch the show.

“You may not mean to insult me, but you are insulting my husband by implying he isn’t worthy of a committed, loving relationship. Either that or you’re implying I’m stupid or a gold digger,” Willa says, flames in her eyes. “So, which is it? Who are you insulting?”

Diego’s eyes are wide, and his hands are raised like he’s asking her not to shoot him. I’m grinning like a fool as I pull my wife to my side. I’m six foot two, and Willa is a full foot shorter than me, but I wouldn’t want to go toe to toe with her. Diego seems to be learning that the hard way. His eyes keep darting to me, but I just shrug.

“I really meant no offense. I was just joking with Declan,” Diego says, still looking at me to help him.

“You meant offense. I’m the only one that gets to insult him. Remember that,” Willa says, turning her gaze to me and smiling in a clear dismissal.

“Who says you get to insult me?” I ask playfully. She holds up the copy of our marriage certificate. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

“You married Willa Prince,” Diego says, because the man has no self-preservation skills.

“Do you have something to say about that?” Willa challenges.

“No!” Diego says quickly. “Shattered Halo is my favorite band.” Willa eyes him suspiciously but stays quiet. “You didn’t tell me you knew Willa Prince,” he says to me.

I frown. “You knew about Willa.”

“But I didn’t know she was Willa Prince!” he says, his voice squeaks on her name.

“Are you fangirling right now?” I ask and start laughing again. I look at Willa to see the corners of her mouth twitching. “I’m sure she would’ve autographed your shiny bald spot if you hadn’t started off this entire conversation by insulting her handsome, talented, perfect hockey god of a husband.”

Willa snorts and hits my chest with the back of her hand.

“The woman you were photographed with at the airport was blonde and witnesses said you claimed you were engaged to her,” Diego says because he really wants to die today.

Willa turns to me. “Did you fuck her?” she asks, a fake frown on her face. Diego looks like he’s suddenly about to pee himself. Probably just realizing he caused an issue.

“No. She stuffed me with burgers and left me alone in my bed,” I say. Willa smiles and shakes her head.

“I wear a wig in public. I don’t like being photographed without my permission,” she tells Diego. She’s being marginally nicer, but I can tell she hasn’t decided if she likes him or not.

“Oh. It was you,” he says, releasing a breath.

“Who are you?” she asks him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. My name is Diego. I’m Declan’s agent.” He holds out his hand to shake hers. She does, but her gaze narrows.

“Are you sure he’s right for the job?” she asks me.

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