Wild Ever After: A Marriage of Convenience Sports Romance (Wildcat Hockey Book 3)
Wild Ever After: Chapter 2

I’m working in the driveway, painting the shutters I made yesterday, enjoying the quiet of the neighborhood and the feel of the sun on my back, when a red Volkswagen Beetle flies past me. I don’t see a lot of the woman behind the wheel, just her red hair and something white flying out the driver’s side window. She slams on the brakes in front of the house next door, making the tires squeal on the pavement.

I pause, with the brush still in my hand, when Jade gets out and does some sort of run-jog-limp up the driveway to my buddy Leo’s house. He and his fiancée Scarlett left a while ago, so maybe Jade is just here to pick something up.

Except, she looks like she’s about to walk down the aisle, not run an errand. She’s a bridal vision from the veil flowing out behind her to the stark white dress that molds to her curves. She stops and reaches down to remove the shoe on her left foot. The right one is missing. Where it went…I can only guess.

I can hear her pounding on the front door. And the exasperated groan she lets out when no one answers.

Setting down my brush, I take two steps toward her. I don’t know Jade that well. She is best friends with my buddy and teammate’s fiancée, so we’ve spent some time together at parties and such.

Jade is the kind of woman who walks into a room and is immediately the center of attention. She’s got that something that makes people want to know her. Guys, especially. She’s totally hot and seems cool. She’s not exactly my type, but I can’t deny that I replace her interesting. Actually, I wouldn’t say she’s not my type. I don’t think I really have a type, but she’s had a boyfriend, now fiancé, for as long as I’ve known her, so we’ve never really talked beyond casual conversation amongst a group of our friends. And she’s out of my league. Like way out. I prefer anywhere but the center of attention.

She continues to pound on the front door as she takes out her cell phone, taps on it a couple of times and then holds it to one ear, all while muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

As I get closer, I’m better able to take in the vision that she is in white. The veil hangs over one shoulder and the wind keeps blowing it around her head. She doesn’t have enough hands to fight with it, knock on the door, and hold up her phone. Even with exasperation written all over her face, she’s still gorgeous.

I approach cautiously. “They aren’t home.”

At my words, she spins and lets both hands drop to her sides. “Declan.”

I jut my chin toward the house. “They left about an hour ago.”

She scans the neighborhood. The small cul-de-sac is filled with houses owned by Wildcat hockey players like me. Ash’s house is across the street. He lives there with Tyler and Tyler’s fiancée, Piper. Our team captain, Jack, lives at the very end of the subdivision. A block over Johnny Maverick and his wife just bought a house. And last week, I closed on my place.

It’s a blast living so close to my teammates. Practical, too, since we hang out so much. We’re friends above everything else. Plus, the houses on this street are awesome. They’re close together, but still have a decent-size yard, and we’re not far from the arena.

“Did you need something?” I ask, since, after my name, she hasn’t spoken another word.

“Yes. No.” She shakes her head. The light red strands of her long hair catch the sunlight. “I don’t know.”

She gives me a sad smile and then starts for her car. Except, instead of getting in, she sits on the curb in front of it.

I stand frozen, trying to decide if I should engage or head back to my place, but when her shoulders start to shake and I realize she’s crying, I move toward her before I even comprehend what I’m doing.

Taking a seat next to her, I let my long legs stretch out in front of me.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffles and keeps her head down, so I can’t see her face. “I’m okay. You can go. I just need a minute.”

“I needed to take a break anyway.”

She sniffles again and looks up. Jade has these big brown eyes that stand out against her fair complexion. Her eyes are one of her best features — though if I’m completely honest, she has a lot of best features — but right now with those wide, tear-filled eyes aimed at me, I feel way in over my head. She obviously needs comforting, but I don’t know if I should ask what’s wrong or just sit here. Let her cry in peace? Maybe offer her a beer? I decide doing nothing is the least risky course of action.

“How’s the new house?” she asks after a few minutes of silence.

“It’s good.” I clear my throat and rub my palms together. I’m thrown by the change in topic, but happy for something to say. “I got the carpet removed and new flooring put in, new windows —” I stop. “Do you really want to hear about this right now?”

She inclines her head. “Yes, please. I need a distraction or I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.”

“It can’t be that bad. You’re getting married this weekend.”

She cuts me a glance that has me removing my foot from my mouth.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.” I should have let her cry in peace.

She swipes at the tears tracking down her cheeks and sits a little straighter. “It’s fine. I’m going to figure this out. I’m sure he just needs a few hours to cool down. We’ve had so much going on these past couple of weeks, getting ready for the wedding. Or maybe it’s cold feet. That happens, right?”

The hopeful look on her face keeps me from saying what I’m really thinking – you have to be some sort of soulless bastard to break up with a girl while she’s wearing her wedding dress. “Yeah. I think it does.”

Her phone vibrates in her hand, and she silences it.

“I take it that’s not him?”

“It’s my boss calling. She was there when Sam called things off and called our engagement a sham.”

Damn. That sounds like more than cold feet. I don’t know all the details about her relationship with Sam, but I know that Jade’s been writing about their upcoming wedding for the magazine where she works. It’s supposed to be a pretty big deal—a feature story in their print magazine showcasing their big, fancy wedding. Or that’s what I’ve heard from the tidbits Leo’s shared.

She invited the entire team, even though only a few of us have spent any time with her. I guess having a bunch of pro hockey players on the invite list was an interesting angle to someone. I don’t get it, but I agreed to go. She’s always been friendly and nice, and Leo said it would mean a lot to her.

“He has to change his mind,” she says, more to herself than me. “I can’t be this close to having everything I want for it to blow up in my face.”

In my experience, that’s exactly when things tend to blow up, but pointing it out seems less than helpful. And I’ve already put my foot in my mouth enough for one day.

A truck slows and pulls into my driveway. The HVAC guy I called earlier waves through the open window. I return the gesture and then stand. “Do you want to come wait at my house? It’s kind of a disaster from all the remodeling I’m doing, but it beats sitting on the curb.”

“No. I should go.” She rubs the lacy material of her veil between her finger and thumb and glances over at my place. “That’s always been my favorite house on the block. I love the stonework and how the garage is separate from the house.”

The corner of my mouth pulls into a smile. “Thanks.”

The bones of the house are great, but the inside is stuck in the nineties. It’s going to take all summer to get it into the twenty-first century, but since I recently signed a seven-year contract with the Wildcats, I finally felt ready to put down some roots.

I offer her my hand. After a beat, she slides her delicate fingers over my palm, and I help her up.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.” I’m still holding her hand, and it’s damp. Probably from her tears.

“You do that a lot,” she says, taking her hand back and rounding the front of her Beetle.

“Do what?”

“Dismiss the nice things you do for people.”

Her statement leaves me with nothing but questions. Like what nice things? And how did she notice? But she ducks into her vehicle before I can ask them.

A couple of days later, I meet up with the guys at the rink to do some skating. We’re in the off-season, but after a blowout loss in the final round of the playoffs, we’re all itching to get back to work. It’s the second year in a row we’ve gotten so close that we could taste it.

I’m not getting any younger. At twenty-eight, I just inked what could very well be my last NHL contract. I spent so many years digging in, proving my worth as a player and a leader, that I never considered what comes next. But now, I’m beginning to wonder what I’ll have waiting for me when it’s all over.

A lot of guys start side hustles at this point in their career. They invest in real estate, sign lucrative endorsement deals, or make connections with all the right people. I’ve stayed out of the limelight. My reputation is mostly good and mostly centered around hockey. I don’t date (not anything high profile enough to earn me a spot in the tabloids—not anymore, at least), I don’t show up to high-visibility events, and I don’t generally talk to the media, unless it’s sound bites before or after a game.

I’m not good at all the extra stuff that comes with being a hockey player. There are so many interviews—before the game, after, pre-season, post. Not to mention the media outlets hungry for some juicy new headline. And don’t even get me started on the events. Most of them are for a good cause, but the sheer number of invites to charity auctions and grand openings for bars and other local small businesses blows my mind.

My game has always spoken for itself. I’m lucky that way, I guess. But as I think about starting my eighth year in the league, those ‘what’s next’ questions are starting to plague me. Maybe if I put myself out there more, I’d get more endorsement opportunities. The thought is tempting, but not enough to make me say yes to any of the invites sitting in my inbox.

“You guys want to grab a beer tonight?” Leo asks when we exit the ice.

“Definitely,” Tyler says.

The six of us get together at least a few times a week: Leo, Ash, Jack, Tyler, Maverick, and me. A few other teammates come out occasionally, but these are the guys that I know have my back no matter what.

I drop onto the bench as I catch my breath and use the hem of my jersey to wipe the sweat from my brow. “I’m in.”

“Hold up.” Ash runs his fingers through his wet hair. He’s been letting it grow the past two years and it’s long enough that he pulls it up into a little man bun, which he does now, using a hot pink hair tie. Then he points to Leo and Tyler as he narrows his gaze. “The two of you are the last to suggest a guys’ night these days.”

“It’s Jade’s bachelorette party,” Jack pipes in. “The girls are out of town tonight.”

Jade’s bachelorette party. I guess it was cold feet. I consider asking Leo for details about what happened and how they worked it out. He’d know, but it feels weird to pry.

“Kota is pumped.” Maverick takes a seat next to me and nods to Leo. “Thank Scarlett for me. It was nice of them to invite her.”

“Yeah, man. Of course.” Leo waves him off.

“Kota, we all like,” Jack says. “It’s you we want to trade.”

Maverick chuckles. “I’m too tired to kick your ass right now.”

“Sure, Rookie.” Jack grins.

“We’re not rookies anymore,” Tyler says, with a hint of pride—well-deserved at that, he and Maverick both had great first seasons.

“You’re rookies until training camp,” Ash tells them. He’s been in the league almost as long as me and Jack.

We hit the locker room to change and then head to our favorite bar down the street, Wild’s. Jack grabs the first round and the rest of us get a table in the back.

“How’s the house coming along?” Leo asks me.

“Good. Floors and windows are done. HVAC is getting replaced today and next week I’m tackling the guest bathroom.”

“Getting rid of that ugly-ass hunter green tile?” Ash asks.

All the guys came over the night I got the keys. We christened the place with beer and pizza.

“What about the gold-plated hardware?” Jack asks, as he sets our drinks down on the table.

“It’s all going,” I say. “I’m taking it down to the studs.”

“Impressive,” Maverick says. “I hired a guy to do all the renovations on mine.”

“I’ve got the summer.” I shrug one shoulder. I’ve enjoyed working on the house so far.

“I plan on spending my summer in bed with my gorgeous wife.” He takes a long pull from his beer and then picks up his phone. He turns the screen toward us. “What’s the plan for phone sex? Are they calling us for that before or after they go out?”

Leo and Tyler give him a long look.

“You two didn’t plan ahead for this?” Mav asks.

“No,” Leo says.

“Chumps,” he says. “Always lock in phone sex.”

He stands. “I gotta take a piss.”

We chuckle as he heads off to the bathroom. Tyler rests his elbows on the table and leans forward. “I’d never say this to his face, but did Maverick just outsmart us?”

“Can you fools really not go one night without your women?” Jack raises a brow as he takes a swig of beer.

“Of course, we can,” Leo says.

“But why would we want to?” Tyler adds.

Watching my buddies fall hard has been a trip. I’m happy for them. And lately, it’s been on my mind. Another side effect of seeing the end of my career in the distance, I guess. Who is going to be there when it’s all over?

While the guys continue to give each other shit, I slide from my seat and head to the dart board. I grab the darts and set the game, but before I throw, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Maverick comes back out from the bathroom. “Can I get in on this?”

“Definitely. You throw first,” I say as I unlock the screen and read the text from Crissy, Hey, busy tonight? xo

I start to respond but then delete it and shove my phone back in my pocket.

“Everything okay?” Mav asks as he turns to watch me make my throw.

“Yeah. It’s nothing.”

“Problem with the house?”

“No. The reno is going great.”

“Hockey?” He shakes his head. “No, can’t be. You just signed a sweet seven-year deal. Mad props.”

“Thanks.” I chuckle softly.

“That just leaves one thing.” His lips twist into a smirk. “You’re having girl problems.”

“He’d need a girl first,” Ash quips, stepping up to join us with Jack at his side.

“Fuck you all very much.” I roll my shoulders back to try to ease the tension creeping in. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you.” Jack narrows that captain gaze on me.

Ash’s eyes light up as he asks, “Did you finally ask out that flight attendant from Chicago? The one that you hooked up with on the plane.”

“No, and I did not hook up with her on the plane.” Using two fingers, I rub at my forehead. I don’t know why I bother to correct him. He knows exactly what happened, but the guys all like to twist the details to make it more scandalous.

The problem with not having as much drama in your life as your friends is that they latch on to every little thing. I have far fewer outrageous stories than they do, but they remember each one of mine and whip them out every time an opportunity presents itself.

“I think his problem is that none of them are hitting him back,” Mav says. “You need a good wingman. Let’s see what our options are.”

He starts to scan the bar.

“I’m fine. There’s no problem,” I reassure them. “I got a text from Crissy, but I ignored it.”

Silence falls over the group.

“You’re still hooking up with her?” Jack whistles. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“She’s messy.” Ash nods his agreement.

“I’m not still hooking up with her. She texted. I didn’t reply. End of story. Are we going to play some darts, or what?”

No one says another word about it, but I still feel on edge. Crissy is a mistake I made two years ago. She was an intern for the team—something I didn’t know until we’d been hooking up for a couple of weeks. I thought it was harmless fun. We’d go out drinking, then back to my place, and the next morning, she’d be gone, and I wouldn’t hear from her again until the next time she was going out. I assumed that meant she wanted casual, no strings attached.

That is until I ran into her one night while I was on a date with someone else. She freaked. The next day she posted an old picture of us in bed together on the team’s social media account with the caption, CHEATER.

It was impossible to tell it was me and she apologized that day. She took it too far and she knew it. But the damage was done. My teammates hate her for it. Especially Jack. Most people assumed it was him. He’s the guy on the team known for hooking up and keeping relationships short and casual. He never once denied it. That’s just one of the reasons he’s such a good captain. He always has our backs. No matter what.

Anyway, that should have been it for me and Crissy, but I felt bad for the girl, and we did have fun together. So, a month later, we hooked up again. And ever since then, that’s how it’s gone. We go weeks, sometimes a month, without talking and then she texts me to meet up. The last couple of times we’ve hooked up, she’s guilted me the next morning about not calling her and only wanting her when it’s convenient for me. It made me feel like the worst kind of jerk. I’ve always been honest with her about what I want, but my actions have told another story and that’s on me.

The very last time I told her that was it. It isn’t healthy for us to keep seeing each other. Not when I have a gnawing suspicion that, deep down, she wants more from me. I refuse to lead the girl on. So even though, yeah, a night of fun together sounds pretty awesome right now, I’m not answering. I can’t keep going down that path. It’s time for both of us to move on.

“Where are the girls headed tonight?” Jack asks Leo, when we retire from darts and sit back at our table.

“Milwaukee.” He glances down at his watch. “They’re leaving as soon as Jade gets off work.”

My ears perk up at the mention of Jade again. “So, she and Sam are good? I saw her the other day. She showed up at your place looking for Scarlett and said something about cold feet.”

“I guess so.” Leo shrugs. “Scarlett is all kinds of stressed about it. She’s been sure they’d break up for months now, but Sam and Jade always seem to work it out.”

He checks his watch again. “Maybe I should call Scarlett to check in.”

Ash makes a sound like he’s cracking a whip. Leo gives him the middle finger.

“Milwaukee, huh?” Jack nods thoughtfully. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s a cool city,” Leo says.

“Milwaukee definitely has a nice vibe.” A slow smile spreads across Maverick’s face. “Road trip?”