Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

ZANE

“ W hat is that?” Scotty asks once our plane is up in the air.

I just leaned my head back, ready to get some more sleep. Violet and I didn’t do enough of that last night. Just the thought of her has me hard; my fingers twitch to find her so I can revel in the feel of her. Now isn’t the time to think of her, though.

Turning my head toward him, I peek an eye open. “What is what?”

“On your hand. Z, you…you haven't done anything crazy, have you?”

I glance down and groan internally. I forgot I was wearing the ring Violet insisted we buy last night. What lie can I tell?

“Did you get married ?” he asks loudly.

“So...I maybe did something in Vegas,” I find myself saying. There doesn't seem to be another plausible explanation for how a ring suddenly appeared on my finger. And of course, leave it to the man who has the nosiest wife to notice a wedding ring. Sylvia is rubbing off on him.

The attention of nearby teammates swivels toward me, including that of Brayden, the Kessy twins, Sergey, and even Marc.

“You didn't,” Brayden states.

“I did,” I confirm.

“You got hitched?” Collin asks.

“Yep.”

“Oh, boy,” Marc mutters with a laugh, turning around.

“What in the hell, Zane? I thought you got your shit together!” Scotty exclaims.

I shrug. “Met a girl. Fell in love. Got married. She lives nearby, so that's settled. Best night of my life.” Although my tone definitely does not convey that. And I don’t actually know if she lives close by. She lives in the state; close enough, right? That tidbit of information didn’t come up in our conversations last night.

Scotty and Brayden, the only ones brave enough to continue looking at me head on, stare in disbelief.

“I see an annulment in your future,” Cal says with a chuckle.

For some reason, I honestly don't think so. Scotty and Brayden pepper me with questions, getting more perplexed as I explain some of what happened, but also keeping some of the details to myself. What I have to do now, though, is wait to hear from Violet. I wonder how she's doing this morning.

When I first saw her in the casino, my eyes latched onto her. I couldn't look away, even only seeing her side profile. My legs carried me over to her before I could think twice about it. She looked distracted and not all that happy, but somehow content at the same time. And then later, she told me her secret. It broke my heart a little bit, honestly. Between the romps in the sheets, she told me scant details about her parents being gone, her grandmother raising her, and then later losing her grandmother, the last bit of family who loved her, she said. There was this inexplicable connection to her.

I asked her what would she say if I could offer her a family. She seemed stunned silent for a moment. I know I hurried her down to a jewelry shop and she picked a ring. By the time we found the chapel where there was another jeweler nearby, I asked her again. This time, though, the question was followed with a marriage proposal.

I can confidently say we weren't married by Elvis. The ceremony itself is a bit fuzzy. I remember bits and pieces of it. We escaped to her hotel room afterward. Violet was over the moon. That much I remember. The anxiety of how to tell her that her new family is a hockey team bubbled, and that's the last thing I remember before passing out for the night.

Let's be honest. Like everything else in my life, this will probably be a disaster, but should be fun regardless. Doubt curls its way in as I go about my life and for days and days, I don't hear from Violet. My teammates throw me curious looks and occasional questions, but I have no update to give them. At this point, it looks like my wife already abandoned me. But I have no way of getting in touch with her. We didn't exchange numbers before falling asleep and my only option was leaving mine with my note. I’ll give her some more time before I hire a private investigator to find her.

It's not until an entire two weeks later when a confused and unsure arena employee approaches me after a game.

“I'm sorry, Zane, but she insists she knows you personally and that you'll want to see her. She said her name is Violet.”

I bolt out of my seat, my heart hammering away in my chest. “Where is she?”

“Still in the stands, by the bench. There's someone with her, too.”

“Thanks.” Walking back out to the ice, it only takes me a moment to spot her. I think she may have moved because now she's looking down at me from where the walkway opens up into the arena. And she looks pissed.

“What in the hell, Zane? I thought you said you weren't Zane Landry. What else did you lie about?”

“Nice to see you too, babe.”

She clenches her jaw, but doesn’t say anything.

“I was trying to focus on you; if I had answered yes, that would have taken time away from us.” My answer doesn't satisfy her. Meanwhile, her friend stands next to her, grinning. “Hi. I'm Zane.”

She gives me a small wave. “Cassie. Nice to meet you.”

“Can we focus please?” Violet huffs.

“You have my number. Why don't you use it and we can talk about whatever you'd like.”

That doesn't make her any happier, but she nods. We part ways and I could not be more thrilled that she resurfaced. I was starting to think she was part of my imagination despite evidence otherwise. By the time I leave the arena, Violet has texted me. It's short and not-so-sweet. It simply states we need to talk.

I give her my address, offer to go to her place, or some place in public, if she wishes. It seems to take forever before she texts back to meet her at a local pub. Maybe she doesn’t trust me, or trust herself around me. Either way, I navigate my way to the pub.

Violet sits at a small hightop table in a corner. She doesn’t smile when she spots me. Her hands rest underneath her chin and I frown.

“You aren’t wearing your ring,” I state as I take a seat.

“I can’t believe you are . What kind of shit is this, Zane?” She takes a shaky breath and in a lower tone with a hint of despair she adds, “What did we do?”

“You don’t remember anything ?” Please, let her remember something. I’ll feel like utter shit if she was that drunk and I didn’t realize it.

“I remember us being in my hotel room and,” she winces, “looking at rings, but I don’t really understand what led to that or the wedding. It’s all a little fuzzy with entirely too many pieces missing. I’ve been racking my brain for two weeks and still can’t figure out why in the world I would marry a stranger.”

“I offered you a family,” I blurt out.

Violet tenses and her gaze moves away from mine.

“Outside of my parents, though, I only have the team. I probably should have clarified.” The longer she’s quiet, the worse I feel. How could I be so stupid? How could I actually think marrying a stranger would work out somehow? I’ve never felt like such a loser. Well, aside from what happened with Deanna. This is worse, though. Way worse. Once again getting my hopes up on a woman, on a situation, that will clearly lead nowhere.

“Look,” I start. “I’m sorry. I should have had a clearer head. This is my fault. My attorney will fix this. I’ll reach back out when he’s gotten everything prepared.” I stand, needing to get out of here and away from yet another mistake.

I’m a few steps away when I hear, “Wait!”

I turn to face her, and she sighs. “You didn’t murder me like I thought you might.”

“Why would I kill you?” What is with this girl thinking she’s surrounded by murderers?

She shrugs. “Stranger danger and all.”

I laugh, closing the distance between us. “Then why spend time with me?”

“You’re handsome.” She waves a hand in dismissal of that fact. “What I was trying to say is maybe we can get to know one another. Sober.”

“Really?” I perk up at the thought of her not tossing me to the curb.

Violet nods and then winces, rubbing her forehead. “I should get going, though.”

“Everything okay?” It’s like a switch flipped and her mood darkens even more.

“Just have a terrible migraine all of a sudden.” Violet stands, but immediately sways. She reaches out for the table and misses. I grab her by the elbow to help steady her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She jumps as music begins to play; apparently there’s a live band here tonight. “I need to get out of here,” she mumbles.

Enough said. With my hold still on her elbow, I lead her out of the pub. We’re three steps out the door when Violet lunges to the left and vomits in the shrubs. Damn. This must be one hell of a migraine.

“C’mon,” I say softly once a few seconds have gone by without any more retching. There’s no way in hell she’s driving home. I don’t think she’s actually capable.

It’s not until she’s slumped over in my passenger seat that she seems to realize where she is.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home. What’s your address?”

“My car…”

“I’ll get it to your place,” I promise.

Violet hesitates for only a moment before giving me her address. We ride in silence until I reach a home on the outskirts of town. There’s a car already here and for a moment, I wonder whose it is. Violet doesn’t say anything about it, so I stow that topic away for another time. Violet doesn’t even put up a fight as I take her keys, lead her into the house, and follow her directions to her bedroom. She toes out of her shoes and crawls into her bed, face planting into the pillow. I’m already forgotten.

With her keys in hand, I leave the house as quietly as possible and call Cal. Once Collin got married, Cal seemed to need someone to hang out with and somehow, I became that person. People seem to think Cal can be an ass, but he’s not really. He can be mouthy, but that seems to be more of a show than anything else.

“What’s up, Z?” he answers.

“I need a ride. I texted you the address where you can pick me up.”

“Why do you need a ride?”

“Just come get me.”

He huffs but agrees. Fifteen minutes later, he pulls up and then we’re off to the pub.

“You gonna tell me what I’m doing here or what?”

“She showed up,” I say simply.

“Who?” As if a lightbulb goes off above his head, his jaw drops. “The chick from Vegas? Was that her house? Your car was there. I still don’t understand what we’re doing.”

I explain everything that’s happened and Cal whistles low.

“So what now?” he asks.

“No clue. Thanks for the ride.” I reach for the handle to get out.

“Just be careful, Z. Girls can be crazy bitches and you have no idea who you’re dealing with. You don’t even have a prenup. She could probably come after everything you’ve got.”

I shake my head at him. “I don’t think she’s crazy.” At least, I hope she’s not. And I don’t think she’d come after my money. But then again, what do I know? I don’t really know her, now do I?

“Just be careful,” he repeats.

I nod and finally get out. After pressing the alarm button, I find her car. The drive to Violet’s seems impossibly longer than it did the first time I drove here. The reality of the situation finally hits me. It only took two weeks and Cal being skeptical to do it.

I married a perfect stranger. A person I didn’t even spend six hours with before we tied the knot. What the hell is wrong with me?

I quietly enter Violet’s home once the car and I arrive back safely. The door across from Violet’s bedroom opens and a guy, maybe in his early twenties, peers out.

“Who the fuck are you?” he sneers.

“A friend of Violet’s.”

He shakes his head with a huff and disappears back into the room. I have a lot of questions, like who is the guy staying with Violet? The questions will have to wait. I step into her bedroom.

She’s right where I left her. The blankets are up over her head and I can see a faint outline of her body curled into the fetal position.

“Violet?” I whisper as I get closer.

A “yeah” squeaks out from beneath the covers.

“Your car is outside and I’m leaving the keys on your nightstand. Is there anything I can do?”

The blankets pull down just enough to expose her eyes as she peeks at me. “No. Thank you, though.”

“Will you be okay?”

“I always am, Zane.” With that, she hides her face again.

What is it about that answer that breaks my heart? I exit her bedroom, but honestly, I don’t feel right about leaving. While she’s not alone, the attitude coming off the other guy doesn’t sit well with me either. He didn’t seem concerned at all at a stranger appearing in this house, claiming to know Violet. Does she have strangers over often?

That doesn’t matter. Violet is what I need to focus on. She wasn’t doing too hot at the pub or on her way inside her house. Maybe she won’t hate me or be mad at me in the morning.

I shrug out of my suit jacket, remove my tie, and toe out of my shoes. I snag a throw pillow and shove it under my head as I lie on the couch. A chuckle nearly leaves me. I’m married and don’t feel comfortable sleeping in the same bed as my wife without permission.

What a prickly situation I’ve found myself in.

I roll to my side and for a brief moment feel nothing beneath me. My eyes flash open as I fall to the floor with a thud.

“Zane! Are you okay?”

With a grunt, I lift myself back onto the couch to see Violet sitting in the nearby chair, her legs tucked under her, and a cup of presumably coffee nestled in her hands.

“Fine. You feeling better?” I ask.

“Mostly.”

After rubbing my face to clear away the remnants of sleep, I look at my watch. Six in the morning. Entirely too fucking early.

“Why are you up so early on a Sunday?”

“Grandma was always up to catch the six o’clock news,” she answers as if that explains everything. The TV displays the local news with the volume so low you can barely understand what they’re saying. “You didn’t have to stay.”

“Just wanted to make sure you would be okay.”

“Thank you, Zane.”

The softness and sincerity in her tone is hard to miss. It’s probably been a long time since she’s had anyone look after her. If she’ll let me, I will. I could make her the most important person in my life and make sure she never has to worry about anything. Make sure she never has a reason to be sad about the most basic of all things in life.

Talk about putting the cart before the horse. We’re in the early stages of things; I don’t need to think too far ahead just yet.

“Do you get those often?” I ask.

Violet nods.

“Always that bad?”

“More often than not. Did you sleep okay?”

I nod.

“You look nice gussied up in a suit. Wouldn’t have expected you to wear one for your type of work.”

A grin quickly leaps onto my face. “Protocol for games,” I explain. “How’d you end up at the arena last night?”

“Cassie took a pair of tickets off a friend of hers who couldn’t go and insisted I tag along. Certainly wasn’t expecting to see you.” Violet drops her gaze to her mug. “I didn’t tell anyone what happened in Vegas and I got in such a tizzy over seeing you, I had to tell her. Needless to say, she’s thrilled.”

“Were you ever going to reach out?”

She nods and lifts her gaze to me again. “Would need to get it resolved at some point.” Violet sets her mug down on the end table.

I don’t want to think about her solution for this, so despite my better judgment, I ask, “Who’s the guy?”

Her eyes widen as if not expecting me to ask that. “My younger brother, Graham.”

Her brother? Violet made out like she was completely alone. As if whatever family remained hated her and wasn’t around. A thousand questions rush to the tip of my tongue. I bite my cheek to prevent myself from asking. Something tells me now is not the time.

She stands. “I should get some more sleep. Thanks again for staying.” Her mouth opens to say more, but she falls silent as her lips seal.

“What is it?” I can’t help but ask.

“Nothing, it’s silly.” She takes a step away, but I quickly follow suit, grabbing her wrist.

“Nothing you could ever do or say would be silly. Tell me.”

She hesitates for what seems like forever. “Will you lie down with me?”

I was not expecting that at all, but I nod in agreement. She leads the way back to her bedroom. A heavy awkwardness hangs in the air as we lie next to one another on our backs. Violet rolls onto her side, presses her face against my shoulder, and pulls the blankets up until her eyes are covered. She sighs with contentment.

It seems like within minutes, her breathing deepens and evens out. I’m not sure why she wanted me in here. Maybe she just wanted the presence of someone next to her. With a deep breath, I close my eyes and decide I might as well get a little more shut-eye as well.