11. Jenner

Chapter 11

Jenner

I was itching to get back home to Evie. Mainly because every time I left the house, I worried she wouldn't be there upon my return. Her leaving the way she did had fucked with my head, and I wasn't sure there would ever come a time when that fear wasn't ever-present at the back of my mind.

But the Speed had business to attend to first, in the form of the Tennessee Rockers.

We were tied at two goals apiece, entering the third period. After winning the home opener against the Cardinals, the guys got overconfident, and we lost on the road to the Houston Heroes. It was a game on paper we should have won easily, but analytics didn't matter if you didn't show up to play.

Maddox made sure to remind us of that fact the following morning when he'd made us skate so hard that half the team was puking during practice. Lazy play wasn't going to fly under his command.

So, tonight we were busting our asses but still hadn't managed to gain the lead. Instead, we were chasing it, keeping pace with the Rockers.

I knew if we popped that net, it would be the momentum swing we needed, and the boys would blow this thing wide open.

We skated a few laps after coming out of the locker room to warm up our legs before the majority of the team settled onto the bench. I grabbed Braxton and Asher, skating with them to center ice. "Let's fucking get one and make this barn go silent, yeah?"

Braxton gave me a cheeky grin and a mock salute. "Aye, aye, captain!"

Asher stared at me with intense focus. "Where do you want me?"

I bumped his shoulder. "Time to get dirty in the crease. Take away the tendy's eyes."

Translation: park your ass in front of the goalie and block his vision so he won't see a shot coming.

Even though grim determination was etched on his face, a corner of his lips turned up. "You got it, boss."

Winking, I tossed back, "Don't let Coach hear you talking like that. He's already got his panties in a bunch."

"Then maybe he should stop wearing Bristol's thongs." His smirk grew into a full-blown smile.

"I fucking hate you guys," Braxton groaned. "That girl is like a younger sister to me. It's bad enough Maddox is sleeping with her, but you guys talking about her underwear? Come on."

"Yeah, well," I huffed. "He shouldn't have come after my wife."

My young teammate rolled his eyes. "How about we focus on the game, then get home to our girls?"

I could get on board with that.

Braxton lined up at center ice with me on his right and Asher on his left. The ref dropped the puck, and Braxton was quicker than the Rockers' center, passing it right over to me. I dug my skates into the ice and pushed toward the blue line, designating our offensive zone for this period. The winger covering me cut off my path, so I dumped the puck in deep around him.

Asher made a beeline for the blue paint in front of the net—AKA the crease—and Braxton gave chase, pushing hard to beat the defender for Tennessee, who was hot on his heels.

"Boards!" I screamed, giving directions to Braxton.

We'd played on the same line for a couple of seasons now and had built a level of trust. He didn't think twice about slamming the puck hard around the curved boards as soon as his stick touched it, narrowly avoiding a check from behind. It slid right onto the tape of Logan Ford, our defenseman manning the blue line.

Logan pulled back, his stick arching well above the level of his head, and when he brought it back down to ice level, the puck went hurtling through the air toward the net. Asher had a man tied up in front, and Souza, the Rockers' goalie, was moving his head around the mass of bodies, trying to get a clear view of how the play was developing.

Skating hard toward the net, I tracked the trajectory of the puck.

Hold it. Hold it. Now!

Timing it perfectly, I brought my stick off the ice, gripping it tightly as I put it in the path of the flying rubber disc. The impact of what was undoubtedly a hundred-mile-per-hour slapshot vibrated through the fiberglass and into my forearms, but I held steady. The puck changed direction faster than the goalie could track it, and the back of the net popped.

Asher's arms flew in the air, and he rushed me. Braxton hugged me from behind, and our defensemen joined the celebratory huddle.

"Beauty of a deflection!" Asher screamed, even though he didn't need to. The home crowd had quieted when we scored, taking the lead. "Souza never stood a chance!"

We skated in a line to fist-bump our teammates, standing on the bench before taking a seat and letting the next shift take the ice.

Maddox grumbled from behind me, "Showoff."

I didn't bother turning around, sure that if I did, I'd say something befitting Maddox, my friend, instead of Maddox, my head coach. Even though we had our issues, that was personal. It had nothing to do with hockey or our professional relationship, and I would never dare to disrespect my coach in front of the team.

But at some point, the two of us needed to have a serious conversation. He didn't have to agree with the choices I made in my life, but he needed to back off and play nice, or we would have to take a step back from our friendship outside the rink.

I didn't want that to happen, but Evie would always come first.

It was just shy of midnight when I pulled up to the house after the short flight from Nashville. A rush of relief hit me when the garage door opened and Evie's car was parked inside.

No lights were visible from the windows, so I assumed she'd already gone to bed, and I quietly stepped through the house so as not to wake her. She was more of an earlier riser than a night owl, though that had shifted during our first marriage, as she'd never missed one of my games and often waited up for me when she knew I was returning from the road.

So many things I'd taken for granted back then.

I stopped in the kitchen, dropping my suit jacket over a chair before snagging a glass of water. While swallowing, I heard a noise so soft I thought I must've imagined it.

Pausing, I trained my ears to see if it sounded again. When I was met with silence, I chalked it up to being tired. It had been a long four days, and I was ready to sleep in my own bed and eat food that wasn't takeout.

Placing my glass into the sink, I walked through the living room toward the stairs when I heard it again.

What the fuck is that?

Stopping dead in my tracks, I waited, listening. I'd stand here all night just to prove I wasn't going insane.

Come on. Come on.

There.

Whatever it was, it was definitely located in this room, so I moved to the light switch and flicked it on.

My eyes were still adjusting to the sudden brightness when a head popped up from behind the couch.

I let out a deep exhale. It was only Evie, probably having fallen asleep before she found her way up to bed.

"Hey. Didn't mean to wake you," I apologized, but when she turned to face me, any additional words died on my tongue.

There were dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and the red tip of her nose matched the puffiness around her eyes. My feet were moving before I could formulate a conscious thought.

I dropped onto the couch beside her, and my hands flew up to cradle her face. Fuck, I'd almost forgotten how soft her cheeks were as my thumbs stroked them gently. Searching her eyes, I couldn't read whatever emotion was swimming in their violet depths, and it scared the hell out of me.

Pressing my forehead to hers, I whispered, "Talk to me, Evie. Please." I wasn't above begging. Not with her.

That noise presented itself again, and that's when I realized it was the sound of her sniffling. A hiccup followed, and she took a shaky breath.

"I-I went with Tessa to the park with the kids," she began, and dread settled in my gut.

Almost too afraid to ask, I forced myself to say the words. "Are the kids okay?"

She nodded, but my relief was short-lived when she spoke again. "I got a c-call. From the a-agency." A sob bubbled up from her chest, and my heart clenched.

Fuck. They'd found out about our deception. That explained why she was a mess, curled up on the couch in the dark.

"It's gonna be okay, baby. I promise. We can look into surrogacy. This isn't the end."

Pulling back, her eyes were glassy, and she shook her head. "No, it's not that. There's a mom who wants to meet us."

The breath seized in my lungs, and I stared at my wife for a solid minute before I found my voice. "Really?"

Evie bit her lower lip so hard the edges turned white. "Mmhmm."

"Then why are you crying?" I tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "This is what you wanted, right?"

Her teeth released that pillowy soft lip, but it trembled before she replied, "I think I'm in shock that this is actually happening."

"Come here." I gathered her against my chest. " You made this happen. You decided nothing was going to stand in your way, and you went after what you wanted."

When she pushed against my chest, I released her. Evie blinked a few times before whispering, "Thank you for helping me."

"Hey. Don't forget we're in this together. This is just the start, Evie. And it's gonna be amazing. You're going to be amazing. I know it."

"They sent an email asking for availability for an interview with the birth mom who picked up our file. I checked the dates against your travel schedule, and it looks like we can sit down together on Monday. Is that okay?"

Nodding, I swallowed. "Of course that's okay. We're gonna make this happen, Evie." Standing, I offered her my hand. "You've had a long day. Let's get you up to bed, yeah?"

It was no small miracle that she placed her soft palm against mine, especially when, until a couple of months ago, I never thought I'd see her again.

Everything was falling into place. My wife was not only back in my life but tucked against my side, and we were making progress toward starting a family.

If I didn't know any better, I would say it was all a dream.