The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3) - Odette Stone Page 0,45
make real beef Stroganoff?”
I worked to rein in everything I didn’t want her to see about me. “The two most important parts about making Stroganoff are the beef broth and the cut of meat.”
To my relief, she stepped closer. “Show me.”
During dinner, we kept the conversation light. Together we cleaned up, and I decided things were going about as well as they could go. I needed to broach a sensitive topic.
I wiped my hands on the dishtowel. “Could we talk?”
She froze, her eyes wide, before she nodded. She climbed on one of the barstools and the look on her face told me she was dreading whatever I had to say.
I opened a drawer and placed an envelope on the island in front of her. “I opened a bank account for you. Money for you to use for anything you need. Clothes, groceries, going out. I’ve also added you as a user on one of my credit cards. The cards are in there.”
Her gaze clashed with mine. Bewilderment clouded her expression. “You don’t need to give me money. I have a job.”
I was blunt. “You’re my wife.”
“In name only.”
“We’re married. And while you are my wife, I’ll take care of you.”
She lifted her hand up to her forehead. Her wedding ring glittered on her finger. “You’re making this complicated.”
“I told you I’d take care of you.”
“You have,” she rushed. “But this is way too much. This marriage isn’t even real.”
Why did everyone keep telling me this marriage wasn’t real? It was starting to piss me off. “Just because we’re not sleeping together doesn’t make this marriage any less real.”
She thought about her response. “You’re doing all the giving in this relationship. You pay the bills, let me live here. You bought me a new wardrobe. It feels uneven.”
I shook my head in disagreement. “You gave up your home. You quit your bar job. Every day that you are here for me, you’re giving up your freedom to give me hockey back. Let me do something for you.”
“You’ve done enough.”
“I want to buy you a new car.”
She threw her hands up in frustration. “That’s not even close to being a measured response.”
God, she was cute when she got riled up. I pulled the NHL card. “All the hockey wives are driving luxury cars. You need a better car.”
She crossed her arms. “I really don’t.”
“Let’s go car shopping this weekend.”
She slid off the barstool. “Let’s not.”
“You going to fight me on this?”
“If I have to.”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Game on.”
She shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
Her open defiance turned me on. “Good chat.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Don’t forget your bank cards.”
She huffed with frustration before she disappeared into her bedroom, but she didn’t shut her door. And for some fucked up reason, that felt like progress. Towards what, I didn’t know.
Chapter 13
CHARLIE
I sat across Krista’s desk, eating lunch with her.
“How’s married life with Mica going?” she asked, giving me a pointed look.
I squinted. “I don’t know.”
“You two seemed to get along at your party.”
I felt myself flush. My memories of that night still plagued me. I spent far too much time thinking about what a fabulous kisser he was.
“That was for show.”
“You still sleeping in the guest bedroom?”
“Krista!”
She laughed, long and hard. “It’s an honest question.”
“Separate bedrooms.” I stabbed my salad. “He wants to buy me a new car. And he opened a bank account for me.”
She shrugged. “You need a new car.”
“Doesn’t mean he needs to be the one to buy it for me.”
She eyeballed me for a moment. “What’s the real issue?”
“He keeps telling me this marriage is real. I signed up for a fake marriage with a roommate situation. He’s making this a real marriage with an expiration date.”
Her tone filled with pity. “You’re falling for him.”
A half-lie came out of me. “No! I’m not.”
“Okay, you’re worried you will fall for him if you let him make this real.”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Tricky.”
“I don’t understand why he keeps insisting this marriage is real.”
She thought about her answer. “Because everything Mica does is real. His friendships are real. His commitment to hockey is real. The guy doesn’t play games. So it makes sense that even if he didn’t want to be married, he’s seeing this as a real marriage.”
I spoke through clenched teeth, thinking about my big, mushy heart that ached for real. “That’s not what I signed up for.”
“Hold on to your boundaries. Make this work for you too. But you definitely need a new car.”