Page 17 of Dirty Groom (Slayers Hockey 7)

This is where I let her go. And I will. But instead of pulling away, I lean in, drawing her with me. There’s no resistance. No hesitation. Just the warm wash of her breath against my mouth an instant before we meet.

It’s not a passionate kiss, not like the one in Vegas that lit the world on fire. It’s goodbye and good luck and be well, and, fuck, it’s more than that too. It’s a kiss that says if things were different, ifIwas different—

“Liam Diesel, dude, I fucking love you!”

The bellowed words have us breaking apart, the connection between us severed as we look up to the house where Nichols is tromping through the snow, his hair a wild mess, grin too wide for a guy whose car I essentially stole yesterday after fucking his vacation plans.

Maybe it’s a ruse. He wants me to lower my guard so it’s easier to get the jump on me.

“Hestayed?” Stormy whispers, eyes wide as her sister emerges from the front door looking— Hell, looking like she just spent the night with my teammate.

“I’ll talk to him. We’ll be out of here in five minutes.”

Hopefully, without too much bloodshed over all this snow. But damn, there’s something in this guy’s eyes I haven’t seen before.

I climb out of the car to meet him, but he’s not even bothering with me. He jogs around to Stormy’s side, where she’s already let herself out, and grabs her up in a bear hug that has her feet swinging above the ground.

“Put her down, Nichols.” Maybe I’ll need to stay a while to make sure she’s okay.

“Oh my God, Noel,” Misty laughs, trudging through the snow behind him. “You are soextra!”

He grins, setting Stormy down and slinging an arm around Misty to pepper her cheek with kisses.

What the hell?

Nichols grins at us. “We are totally in love!”

Oh shit.

6

Regular Season

Stormy

He kissed me goodbye. Like goodbye,forever.

So, sitting here in Noel’s seats in Wagner arena, decked out in Slayers Hockey apparel, watching my soon-to-be ex secret husband battling it out against the boards feels weird.

I could have gotten out of coming. All it would have taken was the truth. But that’s still more than I’m ready to give. Even to Misty.

Besides, after abandoning her on Christmas Eve, refusing to go to her new boyfriend’s game would be low.

Liam gets control of the puck and breaks free, firing it to a waiting teammate who sends it back just as a couple of guys from Carolina converge on him. Liam flies up the ice, and with a flick of his wrist, passes it to a teammate who slaps it… and the crowd goes wild around us.

“Did that go in?” I shout, grabbing Misty’s hand.

She’s out of her seat, tugging me up with her as the giant screens suspended above the ice start flashing graphics of a flaming puck sailing into a net and then the word “Rux” starts scrolling.

“Yes! Diesel got the assist and Ruxton Meyers put it in!”

I watch as two of the guys on the ice collide in a back-clapping hug and then Meyers skates over to Liam, and in a show of significantly less emotion, the two bump gloves and pass each other with a clap on the shoulder.

Liam skates toward the bench, but for a split second, he looks directly at me… and winks.

Whoa. That’s my husband.

Sort of.

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