Page 36 of Zero Pucks

I had subsisted on meal delivery services or the vending machine at my office building that had sandwiches, which rarely doled out food poisoning. So this? It was heaven.

I was so enamored by the meal I’d almost forgotten where I was and why I was there. It was only when I caught Tucker staring at me with a tiny smirk that I realized I was having a full-blown love affair with my plate, and I shook myself out of my thoughts.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Tucker said, the corner of his mouth lifting higher. “I’m glad you like it. I do wonder if you make those noises every time you’re happy though.”

“Oh my God. That’s mortifying.”

He didn’t say sorry, which was…something. He just smirked. “It’s poutine.”

I blinked at him.

Pointing to his plate with his fork, he repeated himself. “Poutine. It’s Canadian. Well…I’m not sure how, like, real Canadian this is. I think he puts his own twist on it with the shredded chicken and all the fucking broccoli he makes me eat.”

He was speaking English, but I didn’t understand all the words coming out of his mouth.

“Don’t mind me,” he added after studying my expression. “I babble when I’m nervous.”

“Are you nervous?” He didn’t seem like it. At all. I was the one with trembling knees and an entire eclipse of moths in my gut, fluttering around like they’d just climbed out of their cocoons.

Tucker shrugged and shoveled another large forkful of fries into his mouth. “Mm.” He chewed obnoxiously, and while his manners should have put me off, there was something endearing about him. I liked that he was raw and rough and unapologetically himself. I wasn’t used to being around people like that. “I mean, aren’t you?”

“Well…yes,” I said, fighting off a laugh. “But I’m sitting in front of the gorgeous jock I fake-married in Vegas who would have probably shoved me into a locker if we were at school together.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I want to say there’s no way in hell, but I definitely would have. But not because of you,” he added, his face sobering. “I was a total dick in high school, and I was even worse in college.”

“What changed?”

“Losing a third of my body in a car crash,” he said flatly.

Crap. “Right, yeah. That would do it.”

He stared for a beat, and then his face bloomed into a huge smile. “Okay, yeah. I’m not even a little bit curious why we got married now.”

I set my fork down a little too hard. “You remember?”

“Nope, but you’re funny as fuck, and I like that.”

That…was a first. No one said that to me ever. And was I? Because I was not trying to be funny. “Thank you?”

His grin widened, making his eyes crinkle. “Do you want to come watch one of our games this week?”

That was not the question I’d expected him to ask. “Am I allowed? I mean, won’t it be strange? Won’t people ask questions?”

“Oh, trust me, Ford couldn’t keep a secret if you paid him. Everyone is going to know who you are tomorrow. But they’ll grill me in the locker room, so you’ll be spared most of the personal questions. It’s cool if you don’t want to though,” he added in a rush.

“No. No, I…that sounds…” Nice. It sounded nice. More than I deserved after this whole disaster. But I was going to take the kindness where I could get it. It had been so long. “I think that would be fun.”

Tucker let out a breath like he’d been holding it. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I don’t know anything about hockey?—”

“Sled hockey. It’s different. It’s more fun if you ask me, but that might be because I’m still bitter at losing my shot at the NHL.”

I had zero idea what to say to that. I didn’t think he wanted pity. “Will you show me?”

He brightened and jumped up, grabbing the table as he wobbled off-balance. “Shit, yeah. Come on, we can go watch some tape.”

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