Page 65 of Power Play
Fuck. I'm getting married. Maybe. It still wouldn't surprise me if she bailed. Or second guessed it. Nothing in my life has ever gone this good for me. Well, maybe playing professional hockey, but even then, I'm just waiting to get traded or not renewed.
Sue me, I'm a pessimist.
She'll realize she's making a mistake and bail. That's a thing, right? Runaway brides? She'll come through those doors and take one look at me and kick off her heels, pick up her skirt and run the opposite direction.
That's exactly what's going to happen.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my thighs. Coach towers over me, behind me. He can sense my nerves because he claps a hand down on my shoulder, silently telling me to be still. He's the calm to my nerves.
I give a tight nod, letting him know I'm okay. At least I know I'm not going to run. I imagine my mother and her beautiful blue eyes. She was the softest, most loving, most patient woman I've ever known. Yeah, I'm a mama's boy. She was my first love. Maybe my only love. She showed me what unconditional love means. And grit. She busted her ass as a model, and a businesswoman. She showed me how to work hard for the things we love. And maybe this is it. Maybe this family is the thing I can work hard towards. Once her legacy is secure, maybe I can apply that grit and unconditional love to the woman about to walk down the aisle and sacrifice everything for me.
I didn't ask her for this. I would never ask her to sacrifice for me. Hasn't she done enough? But she offered, and goddamnit I couldn't pass up the opportunity. But she's risking her relationships with Ben and Scott, both men who are way better than me, to protect my mother's legacy. And for what? She gets nothing in return.
But then the doors open. And Lacey walks in. And my jaw drops.
And slowly walking down the aisle is the most beautiful goddess I've ever seen. The makeup and dress and bouquet add to her already natural beauty. But it's the serene smile, the willingness to protect me, to sacrifice for me, her determination, that have my knees shaking. It's the absolute confidence in her, the complete lack of fear or trepidation or hesitation that has me fucking floored.
She's giving me her - her life, her name, her babies - so that I can protect what's important to me. To no benefit of her own. The last time I felt such selfless sacrifice was...
Okay, not prepared to go there...
Before I know it, she's standing in front of me, looking like every man's fantasy. Even in heels she's a few inches shorter than me. I do a vibe check with Ben and Scott, but both of them are wearing expressions mixed with lust, happiness, and possession. But not an ounce of jealousy.
When she stands before me, looking up at me with the prettiest smile, I feel myself relax. She's not running. She's not nervous. She knows exactly what she's doing and she's still here. Gratitude reaches up from somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach and strangles my throat.
"Hey," I grit out.
"Hey, yourself," she lobbies back easily.
She passes her bouquet to a grinning Ben, while I look to Scott and he hands me two silicone wedding rings. They're not fancy, but they were easy to find, and cheap and would do until I could buy her something better. My stomach twists that it's not enough for her. Nothing could ever be good enough for her. I could put the Hope Diamond on her finger, and it wouldn't be enough.
The officiant starts his speech. He starts reading 1 Corinthians 13.
"Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,it is not easily angered,it keeps no record of wrongs.Love does not delight in evilbut rejoices with the truth.It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
I'm lost to my thoughts when he says this. He continues his speech, but all I can think about is marrying Lacey. Can I be patient and kind? Can I not be jealous? Can I not be boastful or conceited? Lord knows I'm both of those, but would I be with her? I make a vow then and there to always be truthful to her. To excuse, trust, hope, and endure. Because honestly? I can't imagine this ending. I need this to survive, and I'm willing to do anything to make that happen.
I have a huge learning curve, but fuck, I've never been more motivated.
We say the traditional vows and slip the rings on. I'm about to make all the apologies in the world about her $20 ring when she sees it and lights up.
"I can still lift weights with this! It's so flexible." She squeals excitedly, squishing the ring against her finger so it bends. Ben simply grins, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. I hate that I can't giveher something better on such short-term notice, but Coach takes it all in. His eyes survey the situation the way he does a game.
"She's excited about this. We'll get her something else that's special," he whispers to me as she and I kiss, and we make our way out of the chapel. Of course, an attendant there snapped a few photos that we buy before signing our marriage certificate.
She changes out of her dress and back into her usual clothes, but I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop when she links her arm through mine and we walk, arm in arm, through the muggy hot Las Vegas night. Ben and Scott and Lacey chat happily about the wedding, plans for tomorrow, the next game we have in Colorado, as if this isn't the biggest night of my life.
We stride through the hotel foyer, still chatting amicably, but when we get into the elevator, and Scott hits his floor, the vibe changes. There's a stillness, an energy, a seriousness. We've left all brevity and normalcy outside this tiny elevator car.
"So, Jonesy, how do you feel about sharing your wife?"
Chapter thirty-eight
Lacey
"So, Jonesy, how do you feel about sharing your wife?"
Those words have my thighs clenching together, hard. Do I want to be shared? Do I want to be a plaything they talk about like I'm not even here?
