Chapter 44

44

Four months later

September

Banks left Fitz’s office and nodded at Casey, the front office assistant.

“Congrats, Dylan. Great to have you on board for next season.”

“Thanks.” He had signed a contract extension after the medical report came back, assuring the brass he had life in him yet. After four months of PT, his shoulder felt good, and so did he. Physically.

“Do you have a few moments? Coach asked if you would stop by his office before you head out.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

A few minutes later, he was outside Coach’s office, but no one was home. Crossed wires, perhaps?

“Hey, Banks! You’re back.” O’Malley stuck his head out of the player lounge. “Got a sec?”

All summer, he’d monitored the team’s group chat, hovering on the edges like a creeper. It was the usual crap: bad-mouthing the team that won the Cup that year, invites to bar meetups and cookouts for whoever was in the city, the usual flurry of pet and kid pics, and recipes (Grey was the only one who thought this was a good use of the thread).

He’d enjoyed it, though. It was nice to keep his hand in even if it felt like life was passing him by.

“Sure, what’s up?”

The kid gestured for him to come into the lounge, where he was greeted by the entire team with a cake as big as a face-off circle.

“Congratulations, Banks!” O’Malley looked thrilled that his ambush had worked out spectacularly. “As soon as we heard you were signing today, we got busy.”

His teammates rushed forward, clapping him on the back (probably testing his shoulder, the fuckers) and letting him know in their own way that he was still part of the team, even though he’d failed at the final hurdle in May.

“You missed O’Malley’s big cookout yesterday,” Kershaw said around a mouthful of cake.

“Don’t you mean your big cookout?” Foreman asked. “You spent the whole afternoon defending that grill like it was your zone.”

“He’s a baby! He needs to learn from his grill meister elders.” Kershaw gave Banks a crafty look. “You still married, Banks?”

“For now. It’s working its way through the system.”

The annulment papers were sitting on his kitchen counter, the same place they’d landed after the courier dropped them off two weeks ago. After not hearing from her for several months, he’d harbored some hope that she might be having second thoughts.

But no. All he had to do was sign and send them on. Delaney had said there should be no problems; he had a guy on deck in Nevada who would shepherd it through the system on the grounds of intoxication (lie) and want of understanding (more lies). The marriage would be null and void from the date they’d tied the knot, like it never happened.

But it had happened, and while Banks didn’t think that was the kind of thing that should be erased from existence, he had to honor Georgia’s wishes.

“Heard Georgia set up a charity.” Petrov thumbed a dob of icing from the corner of his mouth. “She is always in the news these days, galas and the like. Harper went to one of them.”

“She showcased one of Sadie’s dresses at that last one.” Bond’s wife was a dress designer, and Banks knew exactly which dress his teammate meant. Another pink number, it had a full skirt, like a ballet tutu of feathers, and now it was listed on Sadie’s site, simply titled “the Georgia.”

Baby Durand put a slice of cake on a plate. “She wasn’t with anyone, though, was she?”

Jorgenson shook his head. “No, she’s probably not going to start dating until the divorce goes through officially.”

Banks slammed his plate down. These assholes. “I’d appreciate it if you stop gossiping about my wife like a gaggle of hens.”

“Your wife?” Kershaw chuckled. “From what I heard it was all a ‘big mistake’.”

Banks offered a soul-killing glare. He knew what they were doing, trying to goad him into fucking emoting .

“Not a mistake,” he bit out. Big or otherwise. “Just something that happened.”

“Now she’s a free agent,” O’Malley said, running with Kershaw’s inanity. “With her hockey know-how, I’m guessing her next husband will be a player. She’s got a taste for it. Maybe one of our rookies?”

Kershaw shook his head. “Georgia’s got too much class to date a player on her ex’s team. I reckon she’ll go for someone on the Hawks instead.”

Rage reared up. “Kershaw, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna take that cake slice and put an end to your genetic line.”

His teammate looked unimpressed. “All this feeling, man, and you’re still going through with the divorce.”

“It’s an annulment. Like it never happened.”

O’Malley blew out a breath. “But you just said it did happen. And you’re still wearing your wedding ring.”

Damn thing wouldn’t come off. Too much salty food this summer.

The kid looked serious. “You probably don’t want to hear it?—”

“Correct.”

“But you looked like you were really happy together. Or about as happy as a guy with your brand of resting prick face can look.”

“We were.” He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I fucked up.”

Cue the Bromance Heavens opening their floodgates. Suddenly, everyone was pummeling him with questions.

What happened?

Were you an asshole? (Or more than usual.)

Why are you going through with it?

“She’s got her whole life in front of her. She doesn’t need me dragging her down.” They had one argument and she left, which said it all. The foundation of their marriage was flimsy, no stronger than his fucked-up shoulder. He’d tried to talk to her on the day of Jim Dixon’s funeral, but she’d obviously decided she was better off without him.

“She said that?” Foreman asked.

“She would never. She’s too nice.”

“So, this is your sparkling conclusion?” Kershaw laughed, kind of evil in tone. “Let me guess. You had just been nixed from the playoffs, and you were feeling like the world was ending, so you decided to blow up all the good things in your life to have a matching set.”

Dex patted his arm, which, given Banks’s mood, was a bold move. “But look at you now. New contract, rehabbed shoulder, and another shot at that ring. You’re ready to fight for your career, for a chance at the Cup, but not for her?”

Banks stared at Dumb and Dumber, not quite believing that these two were suddenly the Rebels sages—and even more of a shocker, were making sense?

Neither of us fought for this. That was what she’d said about the first crack at an annulment.

“I need to go.”

“Aw, he’s getting it now.” Kershaw pointed. “Go take care of business, but fair warning: if you leave, don’t expect any of this cake to be left when you get back.”

Georgia checked the bulletin board and moved a card from the right side to the left.

“You know there’s computer software that can handle this kind of thing. Like Airtable.” Debbie handed off a peppermint tea and stood beside her. When she set up Georgia’s Godmothers in this Riverbrook office a little over two months ago, she had brought Debbie on board to manage the applications and administration of funds for the new charity.

“You know I’m old school.” She loved seeing the wishes on clean white cards, each one brimming with the potential to make a difference. “This family is asking for car repairs. Maybe we should just buy them a new car?”

“That would go way over the cap.” As well as being an office manager and administration goddess, Debbie was also Georgia’s sounding board and let’s be fair, dream-crusher. She didn’t mean to be such a downer, but they had to be realistic about how much they could dedicate to each wish, usually a thousand dollars. Debbie had no problem reining Georgia in.

“Let’s offer them the full amount for the repairs.”

Debbie nodded. “We have more applications for fairy godmothers, so I’ve blocked out tomorrow morning for volunteer interviews. And your mother called asking if you could do lunch on Thursday.”

“She wants to make sure their money is being used wisely.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe she just wants lunch with her daughter.”

Anything was possible, she supposed. Since she’d set up Georgia’s Godmothers, her parents had become more involved in her life, in a positive way. She’d finally told them the truth about her marriage, its beginning and end, and they had been more understanding than she expected. Of course, they assumed that what started as a mistake was best acknowledged as such, though her mom thought Dylan was very nice for “someone who plays a game for a living.”

She’d spent the last four months working on herself. Therapy to deal with losing Dani and the effects of her upbringing. Talking with her parents to let them know how their attitudes hurt and stunted her growth. Setting up her new foundation and ensuring that caregivers were rewarded and supported.

Mostly she’d worked on getting over Banks.

If only the man could be easily dismissed, assigned to a forgotten corner of her mind. But she saw him everywhere: a bottle of hot sauce, a cup of tea, even stupid oranges all had the capacity to remind her of what she’d loved and lost.

She had been so busy with the foundation that it took her months to get around to initiating the annulment again. (It was her story and she was sticking with it.) Two weeks after sending them on, and he still hadn’t returned the signed papers.

Back to the board, to her new purpose. This was what she was meant to do. This would help her through.

An hour later, she had the cards arranged to her liking. The godmothers assigned to each case would work with the families to distribute the grant funds, set up appointments, and ensure the needs of the caregivers were met.

She sipped on her tea, though it had gone cold. Time to take a break.

The door to her office opened and Debbie put her head in. “Do you have a minute? We have someone here who wants to make a donation.”

“Of course! Send them in.”

Debbie looked excited—a little too excited, to be honest—and Georgia soon learned why.

In walked Banks.

“Dylan!”

He wore dark denim, a gray Henley that shaped his muscled chest perfectly, and a Rebels zip-up. The full beard was gone, but a very appealing scruff remained.

Closing the door behind him, he raised his whiskey-hued gaze to her. “Hey, Peaches.”

Her heart went pitter-patter.

He dragged his eyes away and fixed them on the wall of cards. “You did it.”

“I did.” He would never know how much his support had meant to her. She was here because he had been in her corner from the start. She missed him so much, but the low wasn’t worth the high.

“You look good.” His gaze raked over her, and there it was: this man saw her like no other.

“Thank you.” So do you. So good. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Pretty good. PT throughout the summer, and it’s feeling as strong as ever.”

What a relief. “Tara said you got your contract extension. Congrats.”

“Yeah, another year, another shot.”

She was so happy for him. He didn’t have that championship ring yet, but he was still in with a fighting chance. No one deserved it more.

“I also finished coursework to become a Certified Financial Planner. Figured I should start thinking of the next phase.”

“Oh, Dylan, that’s wonderful. So many of your fellow athletes could use a service like that.” She shook her head, marveling at how silly she sounded. Of course he knew that.

He nodded. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

“Debbie said you wanted to make a donation.”

He pulled out an envelope from inside his jacket, one she instantly recognized.

The annulment papers.

He also had a check, which he passed off to her. She covered her mouth in shock because even a woman with a once healthy trust fund could appreciate a sum like this: two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“Dylan, this is too much.”

“I’m good for it, Peaches.” He put the envelope down on her desk. “But I’m not good for this.”

“You mean?—”

“I’m contesting the annulment.”

Her knees buckled and she leaned against the desk. “Why?”

“Thought we should talk first, face to face.”

“But you agreed.”

He walked over to the window and sat on the sill. The noon-day sun caught his dark hair and cheekbones, giving him an angelic glow.

“We didn’t discuss it last time, and it turned out kind of messy.”

He was right. But it wouldn’t change a thing. “What did you want to talk about?”

“That night in Vegas.”

“Oh.”

He gave a curt nod. “You told me once that you were in a bad place when we first met. Still grieving Dani, looking for a way to ease the pain. I was the salve, or we were. Together. Only neither of us fought to stay married and that convinced you this wasn’t supposed to be. Do you remember that?”

She nodded slowly.

“Except I think we did fight, just in a more subtle way. We made choices, not always the best choices, but choices all the same. Ones that pushed us together.”

“I don’t know?—”

“You told your parents we got married.”

She blinked. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You said it was an accident, letting the cat out of the bag. How’s Cheddar, by the way?”

“Still fighting his own shadow. I assumed my parents knew and I let it slip out.”

He stared at her, those deep brown eyes seeing all. “Is it possible that you told your parents because a part of you wanted to grab the horns of this wild thing you’d done and see if you could stay on?”

The lump of emotion in her throat was growing. “You think I leaked the news … on purpose?”

“Maybe. Subconsciously. Perhaps, to kickstart life into this thing we both thought was dead. Sure you wanted to convince your parents that you were stable and trustworthy, but to stay married to a stranger when you were convinced it was a mistake? That’s like me pretending I wanted to stay married to please my grandmother.”

She gasped. “Pretending? But that’s what you—you—what’s happening here?”

He straightened and took a few steps toward her. Just the sight of him standing tall and strong made her heart flutter dangerously.

I’m over you. I’m over you.

“We both needed permission to give this a shot, Peaches. So we invented reasons. My grandmother, your parents. And they were semi-decent reasons, ones that kept us in each other’s orbit where neither of us had to tell the whole truth. We could say we were doing each other a favor, nothing more. But the real reason was that something happened that night. Something magical and real and undeniable. I fell for you hard, and I think you fell right back.”

I’m over you. I’m so over ? —

He kept going like he was heading for the blue zone.

Relentless. Unyielding. Banks.

“Then we panicked, only not at the same time because God forbid we be in sync about anything. First, you did when you tried to get it annulled a few days after we married. Then it was my turn when I thought this could never work because you’re young and fresh and so goddamn perfect. The idea of you taking that sickness and in health vow and sticking with a broken-down loser like me made me mad. I’ve been mad all summer. I was ready to sign those papers. Give you your freedom.”

“And now?”

His smile was a little sad. “I’m still ready because I would never tie you down if you need to fly free. That’s why I’m here. To talk to you, face to face. To see if you’re still lying your peach-perfect ass off. I need you to tell me you don’t care about me.”

“I-I can’t do that. And I never thought you were a broken-down loser,” she whispered. “You’re the bravest, toughest, most amazing man I know.”

He inched closer. “And you’re the kindest, strongest, most vibrant woman I’ve ever met. I was never prouder than when you were my wife. Baby, you took a puck to the head and didn’t even cry.”

If he didn’t stop talking, she would make up for that. Tears thickened her throat, and she wanted to speak, tell him to stop, stop, stop .

But she couldn’t.

And he didn’t.

“Am I right here, Georgia? Did something happen in Vegas?”

I’m not over you. I’ll never be over you.

She nodded.

“Tell me.”

“I found something of my own. Someone who saw me.” She wailed, “Then I second-guessed everything! When the annulment didn’t take, I saw a second chance to grab what I truly wanted, even if I couldn’t admit it aloud. I could have kept quiet, but you’re right. A part of me wanted my parents to know I’d taken this step.” She pressed a hand to her chest, as if that could keep her heart inside.

Impossible, as it turned out.

“ For me. But once we were together, faking it or pretending to—God, I don’t know—all the doubts came flooding back. I’d tricked you into this caper, and you were being so kind to go through with it.”

He smiled. “Not kind. Completely selfish. I wanted you so badly. This fine, beautiful woman who was so full of life and joy. I saw my chance to make it happen, first in Vegas and then again, here, when you walked into the Empty Net and blew up my world. But damn, I fought it hard. No way could you truly want this guy with one foot in retirement, one foot in this half-life. And when I ended up riding the pine in the middle of the playoffs, it messed with my head. Made me feel like I couldn’t take care of you, be the man you need. I took it out on you and that was wrong. It had nothing to do with what you told Tara, but even if it was, it wouldn’t have mattered. You were worried about me. You had a right to be worried about me, because that’s what people who care for each other do.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” She placed a hand on his chest, where it belonged. “But to think that somehow you were diminished because of your injury, that I wouldn’t see you as strong enough to be my rock, to be my everything is crazy. I’m so mad at you for even going there.”

His hands slipped to her waist. “Mad enough to not give me a divorce?”

“It’s an annulment. And I’d have to think about it.”

He jack-knifed to the floor.

She gasped. Then gasped again when he pulled out a ring box.

It was already open, her pink solitaire winking back at her. No other would do.

“Are you sober?” she whispered.

“Drunk as a lord on Georgia Bankowski.”

She swiped at a tear. Georgia Bankowski . She didn’t like that much.

She loved it.

“Oh, Dylan.”

“I love you, Peaches. I love your strength, your optimism, your cheer, how you pulled me out of my funk in Vegas and gave me something to hope for. To strive for. A future after hockey.”

She covered her mouth. “With me?”

“No one else I’d rather spend it with. Now, I know I’m older and things are just kicking off for you?—”

She fell to her knees, meeting him where he knelt, and placed two fingers on his lips.

“I don’t care that you’re older. I don’t care that it seems like we’re in different places because when we’re together, it feels like the same place. The kitchen with you making me tea. The sofa with you explaining hockey. Our bed with you doing very naughty things.”

He grasped her fingers, pulled them from his lips, and kissed the tips. “They’re not naughty when they’re done to your gorgeous peach of a wife.”

“They’re the naughtiest of all!” She placed her hands on his chest and absorbed all the strength that gave her. Her rock. Her man. “I love what you do to me in bed. What you do to me everywhere. Because what you do is see me. You’ve always put me at the center of your world. I love you for that, Dylan. For every heartbeat and happy thought and shining moment. I love you so much.”

His eyes grew misty, and a smile teased his lips.

“Where does that leave us?”

Where, indeed? “You called me Georgia Bankowski.”

“I did.”

“That’s where it leaves us.” She held out her hand.

On a harsh pull of breath, he wasted no time extracting the ring and placed it at the fingertip of her wedding ring finger. That’s when she noticed he still wore his.

“You didn’t take yours off?”

“A part of me refused to believe it was over. Those instincts have always known the score.” He slipped the diamond ring on, down to the first knuckle. “With this ring, I thee wed. I promise to love, cherish, and do naughty things to you as often as possible. I promise to try everything you cook, walk with you on the beach, and take care of your cat. Most important, I promise to make sure you never for one second regret a single moment of that night in Vegas.”

He pushed the ring all the way onto her finger.

Her breath caught, and those tears finally made good on their threat.

“Peaches.” He wiped them away. “You okay?”

“Yes! Happy tears, I promise. And speaking of vows …” She held his face, the lovely, lived-in face of her husband, and leaned close. “With this kiss, I thee wed. I promise to cheer you when you’re down and support you in everything. I promise to listen to your advice when I might be about to do something impulsive, like put too much hot sauce on my tacos, or marry a stranger in Vegas. I promise to love you as much as I want to be loved, which is a lot because I’m very selfish when it comes to you, Dylan Bankowski.”

She kissed him to seal her promise. He took that kiss and triple-downed on it for intensity.

“You’ve made me a very happy man, wife.”

She smiled through joyful tears. “I’m officially a Bankowski Babe! I can’t wait to tell your family. And make jackets!”

He raised an eyebrow. “No jackets.”

“T-shirts?” She gave her sauciest grin, which stretched wider as her husband relented.

This man was a bit of a pushover where his wife was concerned.

“Maybe. As for telling my family, that can wait. Can you leave early?”

“I’m the boss, I can do anything.”

“Good. Because right now, I’d like to take Babe Prime to bed and start fulfilling all the vows I just made.”

Which he did.

Three wonderful times.