BY LATE FEBRUARY, I was starting to feel some significant improvements with my ankle. The pain was almost nonexistent, only making itself known when I attempted to use the joint in a few specific ways. The bad news was that those specific ways were kind of necessary for playing hockey, such as when I wanted to start, stop, or change directions on the ice. But the progress I’d been making had me hopeful that I was still on track for returning to game action before the end of the regular season, and all my doctors and trainers seemed to agree with my self-assessment.
In even better news, Jens was finally free of concussion symptoms. One morning near the end of the month, he woke up and said he felt great. The next day was more of the same.
He told everyone he didn’t want to get his hopes up, because he’d seen improvements before only to suffer a series of devastating setbacks, but there was a definite look in his eyes that none of us had seen there in quite a long time.
“You’re going to be back in a game before I will,” I told him one afternoon when he was finally being allowed to work out alongside me.
“Don’t even joke about that,” he replied. “I don’t want to tempt fate.”
I wouldn’t call it tempting fate so much as stating the obvious. After months of gut-wrenching uncertainty about his future, he was finally able to see a clear path ahead of him, a series of steps he needed to take in order to be cleared to play.
And anyway, I was right about this one.
Just before the end of the month, Doc and the trainers all got together and cleared both Thor and Jens to return to game action, which meant I was the only one still on the injured reserve.
The boys were so ecstatic for them both, and especially for Jens, that Burnzie put together an impromptu party at his house the night after we got the news. And at least the party was something I could participate in and be around the rest of the boys.
But now, with both of those guys back on the ice, I would be all alone in rehabbing my ankle until I was allowed back into games, unless someone else got hurt. Lonely or not, I couldn’t wish an injury on anyone, and particularly not when it would mean Jim Sutter and the coaches would have to fill another hole in our roster for whatever length of time.
The party was a brilliant idea, though, and I was as glad for it as anyone. Maybe even more than some of them because I missed hanging out with the rest of the team so much.
Mackenzie and I took Max and Lola with us so they could play with Burnzie’s dogs. A couple of the other guys brought their dogs along, too.
Sure enough, every last canine at the party ended up jumping into the river for a swim despite the chilly weather, which came as a surprise to exactly no one.
Lola led the charge, and the rest of them thundered along behind her, barking up an excited storm before diving in and splashing all the older kids who’d been trying to fashion fishing poles out of sticks and some fishing line one of them had brought along. The dogs had better luck fishing than the kids did, which meant that they came out smelling like fish guts. At least Burnzie had plenty of dog shampoo on hand, so we were able to clean them all off in the backyard before they were allowed back in the house or anyone’s vehicle. Good times.
Mackenzie spent most of her day playing with the smaller children, and I could hardly take my eyes off her. I’d never seen her smile so much or heard her laugh so often. I could get used to this. Her laughter was infectious and addictive.
She got down on the living room floor with the kids, racing Matchbox cars and making Play-Doh cookies and cakes and standing in as the goalie for the ones who wanted to play mini sticks. She didn’t make a very good goalie, though, since she was constantly ducking out of the way. None of the kids seemed to mind since it meant they scored a lot.
Seeing her like this, witnessing how natural she was around all these children, only made me want to start a family with her more than ever.
Having kids of our own wasn’t a subject I’d brought up with Mackenzie yet, though. It seemed too soon, especially since she was still learning to navigate her way through my world and we were both trying to figure out how to handle married life with just the two of us and the dogs.
In too many ways, we were still strangers. Strangers who had a lot of sex, maybe, but strangers nonetheless. How else could I explain being shocked that she felt the need to get out into the world and have something of her own, even if it was just volunteer work? I was kind of shocked that our biggest arguments to date had been over laundry, dishes, and toothpaste.
Would a debate over having children become our first big blow-up argument as a couple? Could be, but it was worth the risk if you asked me. Besides, we were due for a good fight about something, and in a lot of ways, I’d rather get it out of the way so we could move on to the next thing.
It wouldn’t be too much longer before we could talk about starting a family. I wanted to bring it up with Mackenzie sooner rather than later. Maybe after the playoffs were finished. At that point, we’d have the remainder of the summer to ourselves, so it would be the perfect time for us to start talking about the future and making whatever plans we wanted to make.
I sat back on Burnzie’s deck, my ankle up as Doc had ordered, sipping on a beer and watching my wife read a book to Kiara Sorenson and Chris “Hammer” Hammond’s two daughters. All three of those girls were completely enraptured with her.
I couldn’t say I blamed them. I was under my wife’s spell as much as anyone else.
Our honeymoon in Mexico had been amazing. But this?
This was my idea of heaven.
Well, it would be if only my ankle had fully healed. But that wouldn’t be too much longer now.
Soon. Soon, I’d be back in the game.
TWO GAMES AFTER he returned to the ice, Jens got traded in a straight-up, player-for-player, trade-deadline move.
The fact that one of our defensemen had to go wasn’t exactly a surprise to anyone. We all knew there was a logjam on the blueline, especially now that they were all healthy and needing ice time. None of us wanted to see any of our teammates go, but everyone involved knew that professional hockey was a business, even if we were friends. We could still be friends. It’d just have to be of the long-distance variety, now.
But fuck. The guy had been out due to his concussions for what felt like forever, and almost as soon as he was allowed to get back into the game he loved, he got shipped out of town.
No matter how good a player a guy might be, and no matter what kind of contract he might have with his team, no one was guaranteed anything in hockey. This was one of the cold and harsh truths about the business side of the game.
If I were in his shoes, I’d resent the hell out of everyone involved for shipping me out of town when the team was poised to take a solid run at the Cup. Especially considering the fact that he’d been traded to the Tulsa Thunderbirds, a team that wasn’t quite at the bottom of the league, but they had already been all but mathematically eliminated from playoff contention before his arrival.
True, the T-Birds could make good use of him for the rest of this season and certainly going forward in the coming seasons, but this wasn’t the way he’d been hoping things would pan out. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
In his place, Preston Hutchinson came to join us. The guy was a utility forward, someone who could play at center or on either wing, and who had the skills to be slotted into one of the top lines as well as the grit to fill a role on either of the bottom lines, too. He was a face-off specialist and one of the better penalty killers in the league, so there was no doubt he would fill an important role for us heading into the playoffs—especially if I wasn’t able to get back on the ice as soon as everyone hoped.
While I was still recuperating, the coaches decided to slot him into my spot, moving Koz back down to center the second line, which was a more comfortable fit for everyone involved.
Once I returned, Hutchinson would probably play in any number of situations and excel at all of them. That was just the type of player he was. He made everyone around him better simply by being out on the ice with them. He made the team as a whole better by nothing more than his presence on the bench and in the room, not that his skills would be overlooked.
He’d been languishing in Tulsa, no doubt about it. They’d made good use of him, of course, but we could give him a chance to win it all, and soon, but they couldn’t.
It was a solid move for our team. Jim Sutter, the Storm’s general manager, had pulled off a deadline deal that might very well be the key to us finally winning the Stanley Cup.
As much as I hated this trade for Jens, it only made me itch that much more to get back out on the ice with the rest of the guys.
We could do this. This year could be our year.
The pieces were in place, and once I was healthy, nothing could hold us back.
IN EARLY MARCH, I was still skating on my own instead of practicing with the rest of the team. Even though I wasn’t hanging out with the rest of the boys, it still felt good to get dressed in my gear, whatever the capacity, because it meant I was that much closer to making my return. I was right on track for being cleared to play with a handful of games left in the regular season, which had been the goal all along with my recovery plan. That would allow me a chance to return to game speed before the playoffs started, which was all I hoped for.
Not only that, but the rest of the boys had managed to maintain our position at the top of the standings while I’d been out. We were perfectly positioned to begin the playoffs in the top spot in the conference, or at least very close to that. There was no doubt we would secure home ice for at least the first round or two, and, with a pinch of luck, we could have it throughout the playoffs.
Best of all as far as the team was concerned, Koz hadn’t lost his shit out there too many times lately. Babs and a few of the other guys had managed to rein him in and keep his shenanigans to a bare minimum, and he’d only ended up taking idiotic, ill-timed, costly penalties in a small handful of games. Our penalty killers had done a hell of a job preventing the majority of those mistakes from hurting us on the scoreboard.
It seemed that Koz was finally coming to understand how to use his shit-disturbing tendencies for good rather than evil. Maybe someday, he’d outgrow the toddler stage. We could hope for that, at least.
Since I was still rehabbing, when the rest of the team headed into the conference room for video sessions or meetings of some sort or another, I went with Archie to the trainers’ room for more physical therapy. But at least I was being allowed to hang out with the guys a bit more often. Gradually, I began to feel somewhat normal, like I was really a part of the team and the family again.
Yeah…family. That was what I considered them to be. For all intents and purposes, the Storm was my family. They were the only family that mattered to me, other than Mackenzie, Max, and Lola. Those guys were my brothers in every way that mattered.
Besides, I hadn’t talked to my real brother since the night I’d kicked him and Amanda out of my house, and I hadn’t heard from either of my parents in even longer than that.
They usually only called me if they needed money because of some shitty reason or another, and since I hadn’t given them any money in a few years—they always spent it on partying, regardless of what they claimed they needed it for—they didn’t call me very often anymore.
The sad truth was that I didn’t miss talking to any of them, either.
Turned out that when it came to my blood relatives, the blood ran awfully thin.
Somewhere deep inside, I’d always known I would be better off without them, but I’d never quite understood it this thoroughly until now.
They couldn’t drag me back down to their level if they weren’t occupying space in my brain. And I had no intention of letting them have that kind of control over my mindset ever again. There was too much good going on in my life now to get bogged down in their bullshit.
Now that Mackenzie had her volunteer work with the school libraries to keep her busy and she was becoming more comfortable with the other WAGs, she seemed to be settling in to her new life.
Our new life.
Bearing witness to her growing ease with the changes was akin to watching a flower blossom in the spring; a bit at a time, she was opening up and letting the sun shine on her, becoming more than she’d first appeared. But every time I thought I’d seen all she had to show me about who she was, she surprised me with something new.
She had a big heart and was always ready to help someone else, even at her own expense.
She was so thoughtful and kind, in fact, that on at least a couple of occasions, I’d felt the need to remind her she had to take care of herself first or else there wouldn’t be anything left in her to use for helping someone else.
Not only was she volunteering with the school libraries, but some of the public libraries had also contacted her to volunteer her time, too. And then there were events that the other WAGs were involved with, and she let herself get dragged into participating in almost all of them. She had a hard time saying no to anyone.
Then one day the director of a local children’s literacy organization got her contact information from the Storm’s offices somehow, even though they weren’t supposed to give that out without permission. However the guy had gotten her information wasn’t the important part, because he emailed her and asked her to speak at their big fundraising gala.
“I don’t know how to give a speech like that,” Mackenzie said to me, still blinking in surprise after reading the email on her phone. “What on earth would I have to say to those people? What could I say to convince them to donate their money if they aren’t already thinking about making a donation?”
I had to stop myself from chuckling at her naiveté. “They are already thinking about donating or they wouldn’t be there. You could just tell them how important books and reading have always been to you.” I hoped she’d agree to do it. I didn’t want to have to talk her into it, but this would be a perfect opportunity for her to do something important for a cause she cared about.
She’d be great at it, and participating in a fundraising gala for a cause she believed in would surely help her to feel she was doing something worthwhile. After all, she’d told me how reading had been the one thing that had kept her sane while she was growing up and being shuttled from one foster home to another. She knew how important books and reading were for kids, which was precisely why she would be such a good spokesperson for that sort of organization.
“Just be yourself,” I added, because she still had a dubious furrow to her brow. “Tell them what you told me about how reading saved you as a kid. That’s all they want. They need to give their donors reasons to keep donating money, and you’re a prime example of what organizations like theirs can do for kids.”
“But I’m nothing special. And reading has helped lots of people, I’m sure, not just me. So why should it be me? What makes me the right person for this, you know?”
She was more wrong than I could ever explain. Mackenzie was the very definition of special, at least in my book. She’d been through so much, so many things that should have left her hardened to the world. But if anything, the opposite was true.
She was one of those rare people who left herself open to being hurt time and again simply because she was incapable of refusing someone the same sort of love and affection she had always been denied.
Until now.
And if I had anything to say about it, she’d never be denied love again.
“You’re absolutely the right person for this job,” I told her. And I meant it more than I could explain in words.
That was something I’d have to work on—finding the words to tell her what she meant to me. Hell, what she meant to everyone she came into contact with.
She needed to know and understand just how much I loved her. How I didn’t just want her in my life but I needed her in my life.
So did Max and Lola. We were a family now, the four of us, and I didn’t have any intention of letting that change.
Until this point, I wasn’t even sure I was capable of loving someone, because if I couldn’t love my parents and my brother, what did that say about me?
But they didn’t deserve my love. Never had and never would. And I did love Max and Lola. Hell, I supposed you could say I even loved Ghost if it was a best-friends, bro-hug sort of love.
But this thing with Mackenzie was different in the best possible way.
“You wouldn’t mind if I do it?” she asked, dragging me back into the moment.
“Mind? Why the hell would I mind? I think it’s great.”
She furrowed her brow again, maybe hoping I’d give her an excuse to turn it down.
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” I said.
“But you think I should?”
“I think you should find things that make you happy and keep you busy. Your whole life can’t be tied up in making sure I ice and elevate my ankle on schedule. Besides, my ankle is almost fully healed. You need things of your own. A life of your own.”
“But I have a life with you.”
We might have just hit on the problem, finally. I bent down and kissed the bridge of her nose, wrapping my arms around her. “But having things of your own won’t change that. Your whole life can’t be all about me just like mine can’t be all about you. I’ve got hockey. I’ve got the Storm. You need something of your own, too.”
“Yeah?” She sounded so uncertain it killed me.
“You’ve never been allowed to have your own things. Your own interests and dreams. Have you?”
“I had dreams. But they took me to Mexico and nearly got me into some major trouble.”
“But they also got you into my arms,” I pointed out.
“True.” She melted a little against me, softening into those aforementioned arms.
“I want you to do what you want to do. If that means volunteering at school libraries and reading to kids, great. If it means going to banquets and galas and helping to raise money, then do it. You can do anything you want.” As long as it didn’t involve leaving me. I couldn’t handle that. But I didn’t want to mention my fears to her, especially because I doubted the thought had crossed her mind yet. I didn’t want to be the one to put it there if it wasn’t already forming in her brain.
I wasn’t even sure how it had happened, but I had never felt this way about anyone before. It was somewhat terrifying, like stepping out of that plane when Ghost made me go skydiving, but it also felt right.
When I’d been with Amanda, I’d thought I loved her. But it hadn’t been anything like this.
This was perfect.
This was everything.
She was everything.
Mackenzie and I were an awful lot alike, come to think of it, and maybe that was why our relationship was working out so well. Prior to her, the people who were supposed to love me no matter what had been the ones who’d done everything in their power to use me to get themselves ahead.
So I hadn’t ever had anyone to teach me what love should be like other than Ghost and his family. I’d learned more about love from my dogs than I ever had from my parents.
To be honest, I had no idea where Mackenzie had learned it, but she had more love to give than anyone I’d ever known.
I adored watching her interact with kids, especially, because she was so natural with them. She just opened up and let them into her heart. And with Max and Lola, even though she was scared of them, she’d let them in, too. Maybe they had loved her into submission or something, but that didn’t take anything away from the fact that she’d started to love them in return.
The way I saw it, Mackenzie was love personified. Everything about her proved it, and the size of her heart made her ten times more beautiful than anything to do with her physical appearance ever could. Not that she was hurting in that department, either.
But could she ever open up and let me in that way? Could she love me the way she loved everyone and everything else around her?
I’d be one hell of a lucky son of a bitch if she could. And if she couldn’t… Well, I didn’t want to think about that. I’d rather just love her as well as I knew how and hope it would be enough to bring her to love me in return.
“So I guess I should tell them I’ll go to their gala?” she said after a long minute, breaking me out of my thoughts, but it killed me that it came out as a question instead of as a statement. She was still seeking my approval, my permission, instead of telling me what she wanted to do and then doing it. The only exception to that had been when she’d started volunteering with the school libraries.
I couldn’t wait for the day that she felt certain enough of herself to no longer feel she needed my approval for even the smallest decisions.
“If you want to.” I planted another kiss on her forehead, trying to put all my love for her into that simple touch. “But it’s up to you. I can’t decide for you.”
“You could,” she murmured, her face buried against my chest. She was laughing, too.
I loved her laugh. I loved everything about her, even her indecision and the way she wanted me to tell her what to do.
I loved her far too much to do that, though.
“You’ve got to decide. Only you.”
She let out a loud sigh, but she said, “Fine. Be that way.”
“So are you going to do it?” I hoped she would.
“Would you come with me?”
“It’s you they want, not me.”
She rolled her eyes. “They want me because of you. If I hadn’t married you, none of this would be happening. So yeah, they want you, too.”
I shrugged. “Maybe so. But you’re still the one they talked to about it, not me. You’re the one they want.”
For a long time, she didn’t say a word.
But then she snuggled closer to me, fitting all her curves against my planes in a way that had me hard in about half a second flat. “I suppose it’ll give me a reason to wear that dress the girls made me buy,” she murmured.
“Mm hmm. And it’ll give me an excuse to get you out of that dress when we come home afterwards, too.” Speaking of getting her out of her clothes, I had an itch to get her out of the jeans she was wearing right now. They hugged her ass in a way that made me desperate to get my hands on her.
“Wanna practice?” she murmured.
I didn’t bother to answer. I just took her hand and headed for the stairs, loving the slightly nervous way she laughed as she followed behind me, because it meant she hadn’t changed at all in any of the important ways. She was still my shy, sweet Mackenzie. I hoped this side of her would remain untouched, no matter how much she blossomed in other ways.
Max and Lola bounded up the stairs after us, but I kicked the door closed before they got inside. We didn’t need their help for this.
Mackenzie’s laughter got swallowed up in my kiss.