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Chapter 117
Luke
I don’t knowwhy I’m nervous.
Every time I’m with Natalie, we have a great time. Sure, this might be our first actual date. Or maybe our accidental wedding was our first date? Either way, we’ve been out together. We did that event together a few nights ago. Hell, we fucking live together. Which is good since I hardly get to see her. I can’t imagine what my head would be like if she hadn’t agreed to move in.
I should really start asking her to come to my away games. She can’t fly with us, but it wouldn’t be a burden on either of us to buy her a few plane tickets.
Next game.
My wife is coming with me to my next game.
I slow as I turn my vehicle onto our street.
And then I smile.
Because there she is.
Standing on the sidewalk, under the glow of the streetlights with soft fluffy snowflakes floating down around her, is Natalie.
In a perfect world, my flight home wouldn’t have been delayed, and I would have been home when she was done with work. But since that didn’t happen, I told her to be ready for me to pick her up.
I told her to dress comfortably and casually and that we’d be outside for a little while.
She followed my directions—wearing a pair of jeans tucked into furry ankle boots and a puffy baby-pink winter jacket.
I want to get out and open the door for her properly, but she’s already reaching for the handle before my SUV is even stopped.
I grin at her as she pulls the door open.
Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and her cheeks are flushed.
“Hey, Beautiful.”
Her smile is shy, and the temptation to call the whole night off is real. But I want to do this. So I stay where I am.
“Hey, Player.” Her eyes rove over me, taking in my jeans and plain black hoodie. “You look cute.”
I bat my lashes at her. “Why, thank you.”
Her sudden shyness seems to fade away when she rolls her eyes at me and climbs in.
I wait until she’s buckled, then pull away from the curb. “You ready?”
Natalie folds her hands in her lap. “I have no idea what we’re doing. So… maybe?”
“You’re ready.” I smirk.
The drive is about twenty minutes, and I take the time to ask her about her week.
We’ve texted every day, so I know the bulk of it, but she tells me about her big presentation to the board tomorrow and that she’s a little nervous.
“Why are you nervous?”
Natalie sighs. “Because I’m a chicken.”
“You are not a chicken, Green Eyes. You’re the opposite of a chicken.”
