AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The kind who thought we’d get back together and figured if he toned down the betrayal, it would be easier to come back from when I forgave him.”
“And you let him get away with that?”
“Yeah, I guess I did. But I’m not sure I did it for him so much as I did it for his family. For mine.” She gives a little shrug. “From before Ray and I even thought about a romance, I’ve loved his mother almost as much as I love my own. I can’t remember a time I went shopping for school clothes or a friend’s birthday present that Michelle Hale didn’t tag along. I just didn’t want to put them through that kind of hurt and humiliation.”
Because those fucking actions had humiliated her. So much that she flew across the country and married a complete stranger to ensure she never put herself in a position for it to happen again.
“I fucking hate that guy.”
“It’s easy for me to go there too. But mostly, I’ve tried to put it behind me. Neither of us were going anywhere. No matter what people knew or didn’t know, Hendricks & Hale Toy Company is a family business. It’s a job but so much more, you know? And at the time, the truth wasn’t worth the potential fallout.”
Jesus. “So, how’s that working out?”
She wags her head from one side to the other. “Well, you know how I was at the airport this morning?”
Feels more like a month ago. “Yeah?”
“I was on my way back from an interview with a company in Seattle.”
“You’re leaving?”
“It’s not official yet, but it’s looking that way.” She doesn’t sound excited about it, and I want to find that fuckwit and—
Her hand is on mine again, peeling one finger free and then the next, until she slides her smooth palm against my rough one. “It’s okay.”
“It isn’t.”
She shrugs. “Okay, so maybe it isn’t. But I’m going to be fine. And I don’t want to talk about Ray anymore. Tell me about you. I want to know about the NHL life.”
* * *
This isn’t going anywhere.
It’s what I’ve been reminding myself since last night when Stormy tipped her head back and laughed, the throaty sound soft and relaxed.
I don’t know if it was hearing that particular laugh again after so long. But suddenly I was looking at the pale length of her neck, wondering what her laughter would feel like with my lips pressed against that delicate skin.
Except, this isn’t going anywhere.
It’s what I told myself in no uncertain terms when I walked her to the guest room instead of backing her down the hall to mine. And what I reminded myself this morning after she stumbled out of that same room with sleepy eyes and messy hair— legs long and smooth beneath the T-shirt I loaned her to sleep in —and wished me a merry Christmas.
And it’s what I’ve been telling myself in a continuous loop as I drive her out to the western burbs so we can stop at her apartment and grab her stuff before she goes to her parents’ to celebrate the holiday.
The snow didn’t stop until midnight, but even with the plows running the whole night, they hadn’t cleared all the way out here until a few hours ago. And now the morning sun is glinting off the heavy mounds of pure white atop every car, mailbox, and parking meter lining her street.
“Really, I can drive myself out to my parents’,” she assures me, pointing to the completely plowed-in sedan I’d barely trust her safety to on dry asphalt. But one look at my face and she rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll be about ten minutes. Want to come up?”
Images of a body I’ve only seen once but have thought about for a year straight bombard my mind. Probably better not to go up while she’s changing.
“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll be down here.” Digging her car out while I brainstorm the best new vehicle to include in her divorce settlement.
When Stormy comes back down, she’s wearing jeans and a white sweater under the same caramel coat. Dropping her bag on the sidewalk where I cleared a path to her door, she throws her arms around me. There’s a shovel handle between us, so I can’t savor it the way I’d like, but it still feels fucking fantastic.
“I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.” She beams, turning around in a circle.
I pick up her bag and stow it and the shovel in the trunk. “Full-service fake husband here.”
She slides back into her seat. “A five-star full-service fake husband.”
