Chapter 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

JENSEN

" Y ou know you'll need to take that off, right?" Zach points to the ring on my left hand as we gear up for a home game.

"Not if I hide it."

He rolls his eyes. "Come on, man. You know the rules. It's not going anywhere, and neither is she."

Jessie snorts. "He's like a dog in heat or something—humping his owner's leg every chance he gets, but instead, it's his wife's."

"Listen," I say, sitting on my bench and inspecting my stick. "I would hump my wife anytime, anyplace, anywhere."

Goddamn, now I get why Jon has the obsession with saying "my wife." It feels good.

"Like on the stage in the room next door to your wedding?" Zach asks, not lifting his head from where he's examining his blades.

We almost got away with it that night, but the flushed look on Kate's cheeks told the story. For the past four days, Zach, Jessie, and Jon haven't shut up about it.

"You know, you could just take your woman and have a good time yourselves. You don't need to live vicariously through me," I muse. "Albeit I'm not complaining about the reminders, and neither is my dick."

"What's that about your dick, Jones? Still tiny?" Coach Burrows interrupts as he barges in and stands in the center of the room, his hands on his hips as he glances around at everyone.

"Tonight is big. If we get the W against Nashville, then we leapfrog Calgary and head into second." He points at me and then thumbs over his shoulder. "Perhaps now that you put a ring on it, you can stop obsessing over your personal life and actually give me your best out there."

"Always my intention, Coach."

"Intention and execution are two very different things. I want a shutout tonight. We're three months deep into the season, and your shutout stat is the lowest it's ever been at this point."

Bringing my hand to my forehead, I salute him, and he narrows his eyes at me in response. He knows shutouts are my priority and I'll be working on that stat, ASAP.

"We got this, Coach," Jessie reassures, slapping his thigh in motivation.

He pins him with a glare in response. "Talking of distractions…" He trails off, and I watch the way my best friend's face falls.

Does Coach know something?

Burrows throws one last glare our way, and I turn to Jessie. "What's up his ass?"

He shrugs. "Fuck knows, but whatever he thinks is going on, he has it wrong. She's ghosting my calls and texts."

"Fuck man, I'm sorry."

He shakes his head and grabs his stick. "You coming to Riley's after the win?"

"Nah, got an evening check-up with Kate's doctor. Now that she's twenty-eight weeks, they want to keep a closer eye on her and get the birthing plan all straight."

"It won't be long now. Have you spoken to Coach about how much time off you'll get after the birth?"

I grit my teeth in frustration. "Yeah. Next to nothing, but thankfully, her due date doesn't clash with a game. If she goes either side, though, there's a chance I'll be fucked."

And if I'm on the ice at the time, best believe nothing will stop me from getting to my girl. I'll leave the goal wide fucking open.

"All looks to be great and coming along well. The plan is to take you to a maximum of thirty-six weeks. You're twenty-eight now, so we really are in the home stretch. Is everything set at home?" the doctor asks.

"I'm building their bookcase and toy box tonight," I reply, keeping one eye on my wife, who has been withdrawn and closed off since the game ended, which we won, and then we made our way to the hospital.

"And your overnight bag? Have you got all of that ready to go?"

Kate nods. "Yeah, breast pads included."

The doctor chuckles and removes her latex gloves. "Do you have any questions at this stage?"

Kate chews nervously on the edge of her thumb, and the urge for me to reach up, grab her hand, and kiss it is overwhelming.

I got you, Princess. It's going to be okay.

"I guess as I get closer, I'm starting to think about the birth more and more. My friend is having a baby at a similar time to me, and she's been going through pain relief options. I'm hoping to do it without too much medical interference, but it got me thinking: what are my chances of having a natural birth?"

The doctor takes in a deep breath. "As we discussed in the previous appointment, birthing twins can bring more complications for obvious reasons, but everything I'm seeing right now tells me you can still hope for a vaginal birth. We can provide pain relief options and have everything available since you don't have any allergies."

Kate bites on her thumb again, and this time, I reach up to her as she sits on the bed. I take her hand in mine, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Mrs. Jones. It's just not possible."

The doctor looks over at me and smiles. "We have some of the best trained staff and most equipped delivery suites available to us here."

"And there's not a fucking chance I'm going to let anything happen to my wife or babies. Anything you need, it's yours. Anything. All of it."

"Well, it sounds like you have the best support available." The doctor finishes up and signs off on some paperwork.

Kate climbs down off the examination bed and shrugs on her coat. Stepping over to her, I pull on her cute black toque and hold out her matching gloves.

"I can still dress myself, even in pregnancy," she jibes.

Shoving my hands in the pockets of my post-game pants, I lean down and whisper in her ear. "Are you being a brat, Mrs. Jones? Pregnant with my babies doesn't mean you're exempt from a spanking."

She flushes and side-eyes the doctor, who's already halfway out the door.

"Like I give a fuck if she heard."

She rolls her eyes as she reaches into her bag for her cell, and it's at that moment that I start to piece together why she's been off today.

I nod at the phone in her hand even though I can't see the screen. "Who's that?"

She quickly locks it and throws it back in her bag. "No one."

Wrapping my arms around her, I breathe in her citrus shampoo and kiss her hair. "You're not keeping secrets from your husband now, are you, Princess?"

"Leave it alone," she snaps, but I know it's not at me, and that pisses me off even more. Who the fuck is bothering her?

As she turns her back to head to the parking lot, I catch her arm and pull her back into me again. Pushing her toque up on her forehead, I breathe out, trying to keep myself calm. "You don't have to fight battles alone anymore, Kate."

"I can handle it."

"Is it work?"

She shakes her head. "Really, it's nothing."

"Is it really ‘nothing,' or are you choosing not to tell me because you're worried whoever it is, I'll tear them limb from limb when I eventually find out who's giving my wife shit?"

She brings a gloved palm to my cheek. "You can't protect me from everything and everyone all the time. Just let me work through this."

The hairs on the back of my neck bristle. "You're so fucking stubborn, you know that?"

"What was it I said all that time ago? Ah, that's right! It takes one to know one."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Let me take you out tonight. We can stop at our favorite Italian place on the way home."

She sighs and checks her watch. "It's past seven, and I'm so tired, baby. Rain check?"

Buttoning up her jacket, which only just fits over her bump, I try to push past the fact that she won't tell me, and neither would she appreciate me going through her phone. "Okay. I'll make your favorite. Ratatouille."

She smiles up at me and then plants a kiss on my lips. "The best."