Page 17 of Much Ado About Hockey

“Did you ever think that maybe it was an illegal and unethical clause you could fight in a court of law?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you, and I think I could like being married to you.”

There it was—laid bare, raw, and simple. No defenses, no excuses. Just the truth, the one thing he had to offer that might actually mean something.

“Just like that?”

“Pretty much. I’m an easygoing guy.”

Her silence stretched, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. He’d said too much or not enough. He didn’t know. He never knew with her. She was always thinking, always calculating, and he was just… him. A guy with a puck, a stick, and a heart that wouldn’t shut up when she was near.

Then she looked at him—reallylooked at him—with that gaze that always made him feel like she saw more than hewanted her to; like she could reach in and flip all the switches inside him without even trying. He shivered as her eyes pinned him in place, his chest tightening under the weight of her silence.

And then—then—she sighed.

“Let’s look at the condos because yes, I would like a library or an office.”

It was a yes. It washeryes.

“Sweet,” he grinned, the tension breaking like sunlight through storm clouds. He bolted from his seat, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to grab the iPad. “I want a gym, a hot tub, and a cold plunge. This is gonna be great, Karen – I swear.”

He meant it.

5

KAREN

This was goingto be a nightmare.

Karen had been married to Jett for all of twenty-four hours, and he was not what she expected. Obviously, she’d bumped her head, had been inhaling fumes unknowingly, and was now tied to a man who made her want to pull her hair out.

When she left his place last evening, it felt like things were going to be okay so long as she could figure out all the moving pieces… and then, she awoke this morning to a bevy of text messages that would incite anyone who wasn’t of the ‘Athletic Type.’

Sup, wife…

You are up, aren’t you?

Oh my gosh, tell me you aren’t one of those soft girls who sleep until noon on Sundays – are you?

Yo. I’m done at church and tried calling, but it went to voicemail.

Did you block me?

Okay, I’m done at the gym, and the ‘Find My Phone’ feature says you are at an apartment. I’m assuming that’s your place because I gave you all my deets but forgot to get yours. No biggie – we’ll be living together soon in CA.

Canada – not California.

I’m pretty sure you knew that – and you still aren’t answering your text messages.

Helloooo? Pilates done, and now having lunch with my fam.

Call me when you get this.

FYI – in case you didn’t label this phone number, it’s your husband.

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