Page 72 of Triple Power Play 3
A sharp pain pierces my chest, and sadness kills my playful mood. He’ll do it too.He won’t just sleep in the guest room. He’ll stay at his downtown penthouse or somewhere equally depressing.
“See? That right there—that’s how I feel when I think about losing you.” His grip on my hair loosens. “What did I tell you about leaving or threatening to leave?”
“Not to.” I grasp his jeans at the waistband. “How come Jax gets hugs when he goes off, but I get punished?”
Another snort from my husband.
Ethan’s big hands cup the back of my head, and his thumb caresses my jawline. “Let me handle Jax. You focus on being my good girl. Got it?”
Well, when he says that… How can I not give in? “I was hurt and mad. It was a lot to take in.”
“And what are you supposed to do instead of running?”
“Talk to you, but you were at practice.”
“So? Did I not step off the ice to call you in New York? And when you’ve had panic attacks, did I not stay on the phone with you, no matter where I was?”
I release a frustrated sigh. “You lied to me.”
“I told you to forget about the case, that we’d deal with it. You knew there were things we weren’t telling you, and for good reason.”
“I know thatnow. Reece explained everything, but it was still a shock to find out all at once.”
Plus, I was angry at Reece and Charlie, but that’s a separate issue.
“And what did Reece say?”
“He told me to go have a fit in one of the ten bedrooms until you got home.” I gesture with my free hand. “And that if I tried to leave again, he’d handcuff me to his bed.”
Ethan smirks. “I’m starting to like him.”
The sound of a wooden spoon slamming against the counter rings through the air, and I bite my lips to hold back a snicker.
Ethan glances over his shoulder, and the tendon in his neck pops. I want to run my tongue along it. He’s dressed down today, in faded jeans and a pullover, his beard growing in. He’s rather delicious.
“What’s your problem?” he asks, clueless he’s become his star player’s newest obsession.
“Whatever,” Jax mutters, rolling a meatball with more force than necessary.
I’m surprised it’s not a pancake—a beefcake?
My chest vibrates with a stifled chuckle at both my own joke and Jax’s reaction, bringing Ethan’s attention back to me.
“You two are a pain right in my fucking ass.”
I pucker my bottom lip. “But we love you.”
He meets my pout with a smug grin. “We’ll see how much you love me when you’re getting up at five a.m. to go with me to practice.”
“No.” Horrified, I draw out the word. “Anything but that. Can’t we bang it out instead?”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Jackson agrees.
Ethan ignores us. “I warned you I’d handcuff you to me. I told you?—”
“I’ve been good,” I interrupt. “I haven’t given you attitude lately. I’ve been taking care of myself. I haven’t even thought about work, and I wasn’t planning to go far—I didn’t even have shoes on, nor did I have any money.”
“That’s not helping your case,” his deep voice rumbles.
