Page 125 of Play the Game

I flex my jaw. “I’m not.”

“Glad you proved me wrong.” He turns away, and I stare at the side of his face. Coach Jacobs is young for a hockey coach. Most are in their fifties, but he’s barely in his mid-forties, and I can’t help but notice that he isn’t sporting a ring like I am.

Being a married man makes you think differently.

“By the way…” He stares out into the growing crowd. “You didn’t need a fake marriage to fix your reputation. You’ve done that on your own with your leadership on the ice.”

He turns to look at me, and I narrow my gaze.

“I’m not that dense, Olson. You guys think I know nothing about you other than your stats, but that’s not true. I do a full background check on all the men before I let you walk into my domain. I also know that she was employed at the Cat House.”

My heart beats right out of my chest, and I can’t decide if it’s anger, possession, or protectiveness that I’m feeling. With my blood pressure rising, I think it may be all three.

I have the sudden urge to prove to him that my marriage with Scottie is real, even though in the back of my head I know it isn’t.

Not from the start, at least.

Now, I can’t help but feel like it is.

He chuckles. “No surprise.”

“What?” My voice edges on the brim of anger, and although he’s my coach, I’ll put him right the fuck in his place if I need to when it comes to her.

He turns away. “No surprise you’ve fallen in love with your fake wife.”

Silence.

I say nothing.

I don’t deny it.

I just stay quiet.

“I knew her father.” Coach knocks his knuckles on the table before swiping his glass. “He was a good man. Knew his hockey, that’s for sure.” He clears his throat. “She resembles him.”

I feel the jealousy simmering, which is fucking absurd. Just because he knew my wife’s father doesn’t mean he knows more about her than I do. However, this pushes me to find out every last thing about Scottie. I want to knoweverythingthere is. Her childhood, her favorite memories, her worst memories, her goals, her fears. All of it.

“Better go get her,” he says, stepping away. “She’s gaining a lot of attention in that dress.” His deep chuckle catches my attention. “Her father would drag her out of here so fast if he were here.”

I turn, and my stomach drops to the floor.

I have tunnel vision, and the only thing I see is her.

God damn.

She’s mine.

The room seems to revolve around her, and the closer I get, the more my pulse races. Her hand is wrapped around my heart, and she’s squeezing with every flutter of her eyelashes.

I’m thankful she didn’t overdo it, because to be honest, Scottie doesn’t need makeup to be beautiful. She’s gorgeous in the quietest ways—soft features without a single flaw, baby-blue eyes that suck you in after one glance, and the shade of her lips is already calling to every man in the room.

Her sweet laugh catches my attention through the chatter of the room after Georgia whispers something to her. Matthew swoops in behind his fiancée and dips her backward for a quick kiss. Scottie’s eyes light up, and she smiles.

I move in.

Her light gasp fills the gap between us, and surprise flickers over her face.

“Hey, baby,” I say softly.

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