Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Hudson

As the early dawn filtered through the blinds on Saturday, I woke to temptation. Again. For the third morning in a row, Whitney cuddled against me in her sleep; her warm, pliant body snuggled against my side and her head pillowed on my shoulder. Her soft fragrance and the silky hair tickling my bare chest made it hard to resist the urge to pull her closer. Yet, I knew she wasn't really mine, just a facade of a wife for the sake of mutual benefits.

Easing out from underneath her, I gently placed her head on my pillow. She sighed, burrowed into the spot, and continued sleeping. On her hip, Mr. Darcy stirred, stretching his big, furry body before letting out a loud meow.

"Shh," I whispered, stroking his fur. "Let Mommy sleep. Come on—I'll feed you." He followed me into the kitchen, where we performed the morning routine we'd adopted. The cat jumped up onto the counter—our little secret from Whitney—and he eagerly dug into the can of food as soon as I popped the lid. I gently pushed his head away, scooped some into a bowl, and lifted the big boy and the dish onto the floor. Mr. Darcy scarfed down his food while I freshened his water and refilled his dry food bowl. I scratched him behind the ears while he ate. He and I had quickly become buddies, but bribes with Emily's homemade treats sure hadn't hurt.

"You spoil him." Amusement tempered Whitney's scolding. "He's not supposed to be on the counter." She entered the kitchen, yawning and finger-combing her sleep-mussed hair. Her full breasts gently swayed under her sleep tee, drawing my gaze. I quickly averted my eyes. She was only my wife on paper, and in front of Gramps and our friends.

I needed to stop ogling. No matter how much I desired her.

"You caught us in the act, huh?" I asked.

"He has you wrapped around his little paw," Whitney teased, a smile playing on her lips.

I grinned, gave the cat one last pet, and straightened. "Do you want to shower first?" Sharing a bathroom was something I was still adjusting to, especially since I used to walk around naked after my shower. Now I wore gym shorts out of respect for Whitney, but she looked away when she saw me shirtless.

We needed to grow more comfortable around each other.

"You can go ahead." She nodded, already heading toward the fridge to pull out ingredients for breakfast. "Eggs okay?"

"Sounds perfect." I took a quick shower and packed my duffel for practice. When I returned to the kitchen, Whitney was placing our steaming plates on the table, piled with veggie omelets, fresh fruit, and toast. In a few short days, we'd learned to work together as a couple, sharing cooking and cleaning duties seamlessly. I was stunned by how well we clicked despite suddenly being thrown together. Juliana and I had eased into living together, yet she'd always fought me about doing the dishes.

I popped a pod in the coffeemaker and brewed a cup. "Breakfast looks delicious, thank you." I sat down and dug in. "Do you want my comp ticket for tonight's game?" Whitney had gone to Wednesday evening's game against Edmonton—which we'd won—and then we'd met at Scrimmage's afterward. She was becoming close to the girlfriends, and we were fitting in as a couple with the others. The PDA Whitney allowed around our friends was a bonus I secretly craved and relished.

Though I didn't relish lying to my friends.

She chewed and swallowed, and her brow furrowed. "If his knees are still bothering him, do you think Gramps would like some company while watching the game at home?"

I raised my eyebrows. "But tonight's the last game of the season and fan appreciation night."

Her expression softened with understanding. "I know, and it's disappointing to miss it. But I don't want Gramps to be alone." She shrugged. "I could even make some chili and bring it over for dinner."

My heart swelled at her thoughtfulness. "He'd love that. I'll call and see if he's going to the game or staying home."

Whitney had a gentle touch, a nurturing spirit, and an irresistible charm. But I couldn't let myself get too close, knowing the potential for heartache that came with making myself vulnerable.

Love was a treacherous game I wasn't ready to play again. It was easier to keep up my defenses and never risk getting hurt again.