The Penalty Box: A hockey sports romance novel (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 3)

by Odette Stone

  Her face was pink, but she held my eyes. “Now what?”

  Now I want to fuck you. Hard.

  I kissed her hard on the lips. “Now we go back out there and pretend nothing is out of the ordinary.”

  When we came around the corner, my mom, Jasper, and Mark stood at the island with shots of vodka lined up in front of them.

  Jasper slow-clapped, and Charlie buried her face into my arm.

  And then my mom said, in the driest of voices, “I’m not sure about you guys, but I definitely need a cigarette after that.” She winked at Charlie and jokingly wagged her finger at me, before she turned and disappeared outside.

  Mark and Jasper seemed to have sorted themselves out, and the five of us sat down to our Russian meal that tasted like home. We ate and laughed and drank until we were all buzzed out of our minds. When Charlie stood up to clear the table, I pushed her back into her seat and kissed her long and hard, not caring that anyone was watching.

  “Men clean up tonight.”

  Jasper and I spent most of our time goofing off with each other while his studious boyfriend worked circles around us. Then I started a fire in the fireplace and pulled Charlie onto my lap while Jasper and my mom took the dogs for a walk.

  When they got home, we drank in front of the fireplace, staying mostly quiet while Charlie lay with her sweet head on my shoulder.

  Mark stood up, offered Jasper his hand, and the two of them disappeared into their room. Charlie was falling asleep.

  “Why don’t you go to bed,” I murmured against her neck.

  She smiled sleepily. “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  And then it was just my mom and I. She reached forward to fill my glass with more vodka.

  She finally broke the silence. “It’s nice to see you married, Mica,” she said in Russian. “Even if your marriage is only temporary.”

  I looked sharply at her. “How did you know?”

  “Jasper can’t hold his tongue when he’s drunk.” She pursed her lips. “I may have prodded him.”

  I nodded, not sure why I was surprised. My mom had that way about her. She found out everyone’s secrets while holding her own so close to her chest.

  I spoke openly. “It was Andrusha. We got together to play cards and drink, and his place got busted by the police. Since I was high-profile, the police focused on me. My GM threatened to trade me. My agent convinced him I was marrying and settling down. Charlie works for my agent.”

  She stoically nodded. “Those were the details I was unclear about. How is Andrusha?”

  I shrugged. “They have nothing on him. I keep my nose out of his business.”

  “So you married Charlie in name only?”

  “Yes.” I avoided her gaze by picking up Sasha and cuddling the dog to my chest.

  “This afternoon, it didn’t sound like it’s in name only.”

  Our gazes clashed. “It’s complicated.”

  “She adores you.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “I can’t give her what she wants.”

  “You already are giving her what she wants.” She raised her glass. “A home, family, friends. Tenderness, laughter. Mica, these are the things women want from their husbands.”

  “I don’t want to be married.”

  She shook her head sadly. “Your father and I are getting a divorce.”

  My head shot up. She looked resigned. She shrugged deeply. “It’s time.”

  “Time for what?” I put Sasha down on the floor.

  “Time for us to put down our burdens of guilt and to stop punishing ourselves for all our wrongs. That is the only reason we stayed in that miserable marriage. Since we couldn’t stand each other, what better way to punish ourselves than to stay? It’s gone on long enough. We’ve done our best to punish ourselves and each other, and the time has come to lay down our swords. We are both tired of the battle.”

  I shook my head, not understanding what she meant. “That’s why you stayed married? Out of guilt?”

  “I felt guilty for abandoning you. He felt guilty about Nadia and for how all of that nearly destroyed you. He was so caught up in his own grief, he made you bear all the guilt.”

  I stood up, feeling that sickening emotion take over me. “Don’t talk about that.”

  She stood up too and reached out and grabbed my hand. “Mica. Please. You did nothing wrong. You were ten. And you got stuck with two parents who seemed incapable of doing anything but hurting everyone around them.”

  Tears blinded my vision. “Stop.”

  “Nadia was not your fault. None of this was.”

  Just that name made my chest so tight, I thought my heart would stop.

  “Mom.” My voice sounded so broken, I almost didn’t recognize it. “Please stop saying her name.”

  She grabbed my arms. “I want you to heal. I want you to be happy. You married such a beautiful woman, and I think she loves you. Let yourself be loved. Let yourself be happy.”

  I don’t know how to let go of that. Of my guilt. Of my desire to punish myself. “I don’t know how.”

  “Just let go. Let go of all that pain.”

  “It was my fault. How do I let go of that?”

  “Mica, it was not your fault. You were ten. She was a grown woman. She made those choices that day, Mica, not you. She was your nanny. You were in her care, not the other way around.”

  Memories—of so much blood, the crying, and, worse, the silence—washed over me. My heart pounded so hard as it came back to me. All of it. “I don’t deserve love.”

  Her face fell, full of sadness and understanding. “You, out of all of us, deserve love the most.”

  She picked up Sasha and patted my arm gently before disappearing to her room. I stood there for a long time, trying to process and reprocess what she had told me.

  I moved to the bedroom and stripped down before crawling into bed next to Charlie. I hauled her soft, pliant body against mine, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face into her neck. This. I need this. She made a sleepy noise and sighed my name softly.

  “Mica?”

  I sighed in her skin, fighting all the emotions my mom had unwillingly ripped out of me.

  Charlie laid her hand on mine. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  My answer pulled her out of her sleep. “What can I do?”

  I worked and failed to keep the husky emotion out of my voice. “Let me hold you.”

  She snuggled deep against me. “Is that it?”

  “That’s everything.”

  Chapter 21

  CHARLIE

  I had put a lot of thought into Mica’s Christmas gift and spent a couple of lunch hours shopping for it. It was a navy V-neck cashmere sweater. I watched in anticipation as he unwrapped it. He seemed touched and gave me a hard kiss and a long hug when he received his gift. I felt good about my gift until he gave me mine.

  Mica bought me a car. A freaking brand-new, gray Porsche SUV. I exclaimed over it, excitedly took him and the dogs for a drive and thanked him repeatedly, but the truth of the matter was I felt, once again, like I had fallen short as a partner. I felt horrible that I hadn’t gotten him a better gift and when everyone was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready for our guests, I slipped into the bedroom to process my feelings.

  His gift exemplified how mismatched we were. Every time I felt hope that we might move forward in our relationship, I was again reminded of how uneven we were as a couple. I didn’t cry, but I left the kitchen because I needed to get a hold on my emotions.

  Sniper lay on the bed, his head on my lap as I tried to figure out why I felt so sad. When the door opened behind me, I knew it was Mica, coming to look for me. He sat down beside me and studied me. He didn’t speak. Instead, he just absorbed my energy.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I smiled and shook my head.

  He picked up my hand. “Tell me.”

  “I think I should have b
ought you more than a stupid sweater.”

  Surprise crossed his face. “I love my sweater.”

  “Everything I do is small. I want to do big things for you.”

  His smile lit up the room. “Do you like your new car?”

  “I love it.”

  He shrugged, still amused. “I love my sweater and you love your car. I think we’re even.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He grew thoughtful. “I don’t feel like I am giving enough of what matters.”

  Our eyes met. He was talking about love. And commitment.

  “I accept this for what it is.”

  “I’ve met no one like you.” He played with my fingers. “If I could go all the way, it’d be with you.”

  He was letting me know that nothing had changed, that this relationship still had a deadline. I swallowed the sad lump in my throat. “I know.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  I knew he was struggling. “Does this stuff have to do with your mom?”

  He smiled, sad. “Yeah. My mom and my past.”

  I felt so much love well up in my heart for this man, I almost couldn’t breathe. “I’ll go as far as you will go with me.”

  This wasn’t just about sex. This was about me, not caring that I might get crushed at the end of this. I wanted to give him my all so I never lived with any regrets.

  His eye reflected his relief. He leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”

  “What are the boys doing?”

  He thought about it. “Mark is a diligent little solider cooking up a storm under my mom’s supervision. Jasper is fucking around with the dogs, making a general nuisance of himself and making me laugh.”

  A smile broke over my face as happiness washed through me. “This might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

  He didn’t respond, but his smile told me he felt the same way.

  Once the guests started showing up, they never seemed to stop. I had been secretly stressed about how I would manage such a huge meal, but the girlfriend, sister and mom who tagged along brought salads and desserts. They donned aprons and dug in beside me and Yelena, working in tandem to put the meal together. Mica took coats, kept everyone’s glasses full and would often pull me out of the kitchen to introduce me to someone. It was a tight fit, but with an added table we got everyone seated for one of the most amazing feasts I had ever seen.

  While we were eating, I sat back in awe at the huge group of people that laughed and talked together. The fireplace crackled and the Christmas lights twinkled on the tree.

  Mica leaned forward. “What are you thinking?”

  “That my mom would be so happy about all of this.”

  “Mmm,” he responded as he leaned over and kissed my mouth.

  The men cleaned up the kitchen and, used to working as a team, they had dishes washed and food put away without a fuss while the women sat around the living room, talking. The booze was flowing, and there was a lot of shouting laughter and loud talking.

  With Sniper at my feet, I was chatting with one of the girlfriends when the doorbell rang.

  “Charlie, there’s someone at the door for you,” I heard Mica call.

  I stood up and walked towards the door, pausing momentarily to see Andrew and his two dogs standing at the door. Sniper stuck to my side like glue. Mica watched me approach, a nonchalant expression on his face. I felt inexplicably nervous.

  “Andrew,” I said, conscious of the fact that all the players now stood in the kitchen like silent guards, unsmiling as they stared at Andrew. They were so in tune with Mica, they seemed to sense that this situation was wrong.

  Andrew’s oblivious smile widened when he saw me. “I came over to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

  I felt like we were on stage. No one was talking. Everyone was listening. “Thank you. Merry Christmas to you.”

  “I wanted to give you your gift.” He handed me a carefully wrapped, small flat box. I was all too aware of Mica standing beside me, his arms crossed over his wide chest.

  “I’ll put this under the tree,” I said lightly, not wanting anyone, much less Mica, to witness me opening a gift from another man. In fact, my goal was to return the unopened gift to Andrew tomorrow.

  “No.” Andrew frowned. “You should open it now.”

  To my relief, some players had started to talk again, and the focus had shifted off us. With extreme reluctance, I opened the gift. I stared down at it, feeling alarmed. Andrew had bought me a thin gold chain with a tiny diamond pendant. It was inappropriate, and I didn’t know if I felt more embarrassed for myself or Andrew.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, afraid to look at Mica. I snapped the box shut. “But this is too much. I can’t accept this.”

  “Put it on,” Andrew encouraged, completely ignoring my protests.

  “Yeah, Charlie. Put it on,” Mica spoke from beside me in an easygoing tone. Was I the only one who could read the intense energy that crackled behind Mica’s relaxed response?

  With shaking fingers, I lifted the necklace out of the box.

  “Let me.” Andrew stepped forward. He took the necklace from my numb fingers. “Turn around and lift your hair.”

  I turned and looked up at Mica, who stared down at me with hooded eyes. An easy smile played on his lips, but my husband was not impressed. Not with Andrew. Not with me. Andrew’s fingers lightly grazed my neck, but I felt nothing but complete dismay over the gift.

  I turned around, my hand on my new necklace. “Thank you. It’s beautiful, Andrew.”

  Normally, if a neighbor dropped by to wish us a Merry Christmas, I would invite them in for a drink, but I gave Andrew a tight smile. “We should get back to our guests. I don’t want to be rude.”

  “Of course.” Andrew smiled. He leaned forward and did the double-cheek kiss thing, which normally would be innocent and safe, but tonight, as my huge husband towered over us, Andrew’s face lightly touching both of my cheeks felt like a mad intimacy that I didn’t want and was forced to receive.

  Andrew opened the door and smiled. “See you on one of our walks, Charlie.”

  “Have a great night, Andrew,” Mica said in a flat tone.

  The door shut.

  Mica gave me a look that I couldn’t read, but without speaking, he moved back to the kitchen to rejoin the guys.

  I walked back into the living room and sat beside Yelena.

  She leaned over and inspected the necklace. “Is that from your neighbor?”

  “Yes.” I touched the necklace, feeling stupid.

  “Not the most appropriate gift, is it?” she said dryly.

  My eyes lifted to Mica, who stood in the kitchen, his dark gaze on mine. There was something in his look that spoke of possession and made me shiver in response.

  The party raged on. The vodka came out, and the laughter and talking got louder. I set out some midnight snacks and worked alongside Mark to put out bowls of pretzels, popcorn, baking, and small slider buns with cranberry sauce and leftover carved-up turkey.

  I moved to the pantry to find some cranberry juice, and the door shut behind me.

  Mica stood, filling the small space.

  “Hi.” I sounded breathless, jumpy. “I’m looking for juice.”

  He stepped up to me and stared down at me. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, showing that he wasn’t sober.

  “Why’d Andrew give you that necklace?” His voice was calm and even, but his words made my heart race.

  “I don’t know,” I stuttered. “I didn’t want to accept it.”

  He stepped closer and reached up to capture the necklace in his hand. “You know what I promised if you cheated on me.”

  He smelled so good, and my body responded with surging desire. “I’m not cheating on you.”

  He yanked the necklace hard, snapping the thin chain. It now hung broken on his fingers, no longer around my neck. His possessiveness made my knees weak with lust, because in some fuck
ed-up way, it showed that he cared.

  He gently grabbed my face and lifted it so I was looking up at him. “I think my wife needs to be reminded who she’s married to.”

  My throat felt so parched. I swallowed convulsively. “How are you going to do that?”

  His eyes traveled over my face. He leaned closer so his lips were against my ear, causing a deep shiver to wrack through my body. “I’m going to make you come so many times, you’ll beg me to stop.”

  My entire body reacted to his words. Every hair on my body stood up, my nipples hardened, my stomach tightened, and something flushed hot and wet between my legs.

  I really wanted to be reminded who I was married to. I couldn’t wait.

  “You’re so bossy.”

  “You don’t know what bossy is,” he promised.

  The rest of the night passed in a blur, with singing, laughter and a lot of drinking, but every time I looked up and my eyes landed on Mica, he was watching me with that dark, unreadable expression. The intensity of his gaze promised things to come and made me shiver. Why did I love how possessive he was? It made my heart thud with anticipation.

  When our last guest said goodbye, I headed into the bedroom, desperate to change and climb into bed. I washed up and stripped down to only my skirt and camisole. I opened the bathroom door to see Mica, sitting on the bed’s edge.

  His eyes traveled from the top of my head down to my bare feet.

  “Get naked.” His voice sounded like a low growl.

  “Mica.” My voice sounded shocked, but it also trembled in anticipation.

  “Take your clothes off now.”

  Finally. This is what I want. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

  With shaking hands, I tore off my camisole and shimmied my skirt down over my hips. He sat forward, as if he didn’t want to miss a second of the show. I reached behind myself and unclasped my bra, letting that hit the floor, and then I hooked my fingers under my thong and slid it down my legs.

  I stood before him, naked and unabashed. His eyes feasted on me, and his thick throat moved as he swallowed.