Page 67 of Tangled Vows

Easton dropped a soft kiss to my forehead, and my eyes fell closed as I curled into him. He held me there until my breathing evened out. The last thing I thought before sleep took me was that my fake husband didn’t feel quite so fake anymore.

47

EASTON

Eight days.

That was how long I’d have to be away from my wife, and I fucking hated it. I glanced down at Shayla, who lay sprawled beneath me, her cheeks flushed and her hair fanned out across her pillow. We’d made love as the sun came up, clinging to our final hours together before I hopped on a plane to New York for a five game road trip.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her I loved her as I gazed into her soft gray eyes. I’d known it for some time now, but had never been brave enough to admit my true feelings to her. And I didn’t want to jeopardize the tenuous bond we’d formed by dropping that bomb on her and then leaving for over a week.

I wished she could come with me, especially since our second stop was in Boston, where I’d have to face my old team on their turf. Having her by my side would have tempered much of my anxiety, but she couldn’t travel right now. Her mom was sick again, and it was worse than before.

“I have to go,” I said, reluctantly pulling out of her arms.

“I know,” she lamented, her voice still soft and scratchy from sleep. Unable to resist feeling her lips on mine one last time,I leaned down and kissed her, retreating before we could get carried away.

The flight to New York was uneventful, but the game was a nail biter. We played our hearts out, but they squeaked out a win, defeating us by one goal. My unease ratcheted up as we headed to Boston for our game the next day. Being in my old stomping grounds caused a tight knot to coil in my stomach. I used to love this city, but now all it brought me was guilt and shame. Now that I was married and knew what it was like to love somebody with my entire heart and soul, I couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt to have them betray me. The thought of another man touching Shayla made my blood boil and rage to burn through my veins. No wonder Danvers had decked me. I was lucky he hadn’t tried to stab me with an ice skate.

“You good, man?” I looked up into Weiss’s worried gaze. He stood above me as I sat on the bench lacing up my skates. I cleared my throat and averted my gaze.

“I’m fine,” I replied unconvincingly.

“Look, I don’t know what happened here that caused you to come to Richmond, but whatever it was, it has you rattled.” I couldn’t deny his claims, so I stayed silent as he continued. “You need to leave all that in the past. You’re part of a team that’s having a winning season—one that’s better than what the Thunder are having so far—you have a beautiful wife at home waiting for you, and a team full of men who look up to you. You’re going to go out on that ice and own it like every other venue we’ve played in.”

Weiss was right. I needed to pull myself together and give this game my all like I always did.

“It’s time to celebrate, baby!”Kent announced, deepening his voice while drawing out the last word as he popped open a bottle of champagne. We'd beat the Thunder. The game had been tense, and we stayed neck and neck most of the game until the third period. I scored on my former goalie, putting us ahead by one. Then Kent scored an empty netter with only seconds left, erasing any chance of them tying it up and sending us into overtime.

“Hell, yeah,” Weiss agreed, lifting his glass of lager to clink against the bottle before Kent put it to his lips and drank directly from it. Tillman lifted his tumbler of bourbon in silent agreement. The whole team was hanging out at the hotel bar celebrating our victory, and the guys were ready to cut loose.

I took a long draw from my beer and checked my phone again. I’d called Shayla right after the game to tell her we’d won. She’d sounded frazzled when she answered, and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me her mom was having trouble catching her breath and was running a fever. She was packing a bag so she could take her to the hospital. She promised to update me, but I hadn’t heard from her yet.

“Why do you keep looking at your phone? There’s a party going on,” Kent said, lifting his hands and motioning to the room around us. Our team occupied a few of the tables with the rookies positioned the farthest from us. It was a good thing because I still wanted to knock Maxwell’s teeth down his throat. He hadn’t said anything else about Shayla, but he made a job out of being an obnoxious fuck boy who constantly bragged about all tail he was getting now that he’d moved up to the pros.

“I’m waiting to hear from Shayla. Her mom is really sick, so she was taking her to the hospital. I just don’t want to miss her call.” Kent’s taunting smile fell.

“Ah, man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I assured him, “but I’m probably not going to stay out too late.” Shayla had to be worried, and I couldn’t even be there for her because I had to be here. At the very least, I wanted to be available to talk if she called. I’d have one more beer, then head back to my room. Kent and Weiss voiced their understanding, and Tillman nodded.

“I need another drink,” I announced. Without waiting for our server, I went to the bar. I needed some space from my teammates and their watchful eyes. As I waited for the bartender, I felt a hand on my back. I turned, a smirk on my lips, expecting to see Kent. Instead, I came face-to-face with Jessica Danvers.

“Jessica,” I said, blinking rapidly as if she were a figment of my imagination, and I could make her disappear by willing her away. “What are you doing here?”

She reached out and gripped my arm affectionately, and I fought the urge to tear myself from her grasp. I didn’t want to cause a scene or draw any attention to us.

“I came to see you, silly,” she responded playfully. Was she insane? Our tryst had nearly cost me my career. She was lucky it hadn’t ended her marriage. “I thought maybe we could pick up where we left off,” she added salaciously, batting her eyelashes at me. Yep, she was off her rocker. And I needed to set her straight because she and I would never happen again. We couldn’t have that conversation here in this crowded bar, though. The last thing I needed was for one of my teammates to witness her touching me like that or to overhear our conversation.

I reached over and peeled her fingers off my arm. Gently gripping her bicep, I spun her around, pressed my hand to the center of her back, and nudged her toward the bar’s entrance.

“I like where this is going,” she crooned when we reached the lobby. I released her, and she spun to face me. She reached up and flattened her palms on my chest, and I fought the urge to shove her away. I’d never harm a woman, no matter how angry I was, but I needed to get her hands off me.

Curling my fingers around her wrist, I held onto her arms as I stepped out of her reach.

“This isn’t happening again, Jessica,” I announced, releasing her.

“Why not?” She pouted, and the expression looked ridiculous on a grown woman.

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