Page 30 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

My phone vibrates in my pocket again, cutting through the moment like a sharp blade.

The persistent buzz is a reminder of everything pulling me away from her.

I sigh, loosening my hold just enough to pull the phone from my pocket.

Harry’s face glares up at me from the screen, his expression from the contact photo seeming more impatient than usual.

“You should probably answer that,” she says gently.

“It’s just Harry,” I try, unable to sound convincing enough that his call isn’t important. “But knowing him, I’ll pay for being late.”

The joyful expression on her features falters. “I don’t want you to get benched because of me, Luke. It’s the playoffs.”

Hearing her say it like that, makes my heart sing. It’s not just that she knows it’s the playoffs and what it means, but that she already makes it sound like we’re a team in this.

“Don’t worry, it’ll probably be some kind of promo or ad I don’t want to do. They won’t bench me for being late,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my voice as I pull her close to me again. “I’m too good at what I do.”

She rolls her eyes and playfully pushes me away, her touch lingering just long enough to make my arms feel too empty without her in them. “You won’t be able to skate if your head’s over-inflated,” she teases. “You’ll lose your balance.”

“Oh, I’ve been doing fine so far,” I fire back, my laughter echoing softly in the quiet kitchen. “You’ll be alright here? On your own for a while?”

I try to keep my tone light, but there’s an ache beneath the question.

Leaving her here, so soon after we just got here, feels like the wrong move.

Even if I know I have to. Practice isn’t optional.

Harry helped me out with Hannah, something I don’t take for granted, but I’ll have to get back on track.

If I skip or show up late too many times they might actually bench me and that won’t be good for me, the team, or anyone expecting me to pull my weight.

But somehow those reasons don’t feel as important as they did a week ago.

Before we left Georgetown this morning, Pastor Mark took me aside. His expression was filled with concern, which is only understandable given how I showed up only to take his daughter from his home the next day.

“Lucas,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “You’ll look after her, won’t you? Do you have your Bible with you?”

I just nodded, knowing I had my Bible in New York. It’s next to my bed. Granted, I hadn’t opened it in a while since practice and games take every bit of my day.

“Good,” he said. “You should read it every night. Together. ”

He didn’t say it as a suggestion, but rather something that should be a rule moving forward.

And now, standing here in the kitchen, watching uncertainty settle across Hannah’s beautiful features, I feel the weight of that responsibility settling over me.

She’s my wife now. Not just in name, not just in the eyes of the law, but in the eyes of God.

It’s no longer just about me. But about us.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, trying her hardest to sound convincing.

“I’m going to explore a bit, maybe unpack and definitely take a bubble bath.

It’ll help me decide on how to make this place a bit more homey,” she says, gesturing around the room with a faint smile on her face. “What time will you be back?”

“Bubble bath?” I blink, suddenly distracted. Images run through my mind that have no business being there this early in the morning. Images that belong to the future of our relationship. It’s not that I don’t want those things with her, but there’s so much we still need to talk about.

We’ve shared one night together as husband and wife, but everything since then feels like a big reset. As much as I want to be close to her, I can’t ignore the fact that we have so much to figure out before we can move in that direction.

She suddenly turns toward me, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

Something about the way her green eyes spark with emotion catches me off guard, and I feel a pull closer to her.

But before I can speak, my phone vibrates in my hand, cutting through the moment again.

It’s Harry, his face flashing on the screen.

She looks toward the phone, understanding spreading on her face. ”You have to go.”

I nod, reluctantly stepping back. “I hate leaving like this, Sanders, but I have to get to practice. Tomorrow we play the Leafs. If we win this tomorrow, we’re in the final.

I can’t afford to lose focus now, and I’ve already missed the team meeting.

I mean it’s the playoffs.” I know I’m rambling, but I’m trying very hard to convince myself to leave her here alone while I go cool off on the ice.

“I’ll take you to the facility tomorrow, introduce you to everyone.

I don’t want to overwhelm you too much. Besides, it’s been a rough forty-eight hours. ”

She steps closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. The warmth of her embrace settles me. “It’s fine, Luke, really. You need to go and I’ll wait here for you.” She smiles teasingly. “Like I said, I have a few things I can do to keep me busy.”

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead. The balance of this new life we’re creating together, where our commitment to each other is now overlapping with our individual paths…it’ll be something to get used to.

“I’ll be back soon,” I promise. “And then you can tell me about all the ideas you came up with in your bubble bath.”

Jogging into the training facility, I head straight for the locker room, eager to get my gear on and hit the ice. My phone vibrates in my pocket for what feels like the hundredth time, Harry’s face now relentless on the screen. With a sigh, I send him to voicemail again.

“Walker!” His voice booms from further down the hall, cutting through the air and making me freeze in my tracks.

I glance up to see him striding toward me, phone still pressed to his ear as he glares at me. “You really just sent me to voicemail?”

I give him a semi-apologetic smile. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re late,” he shoots back, clicking off the phone and tucking it into his blazer. “I was about five seconds away from dragging you here by the ankles. This was not the agreement, Walker, and you know it.”

Running my hand through my hair, I try to keep my cool. The last thing I need right now is to get into an argument with Harry before practice.

“I know. I got tied up at home getting Hannah settled, but I’m here now.” The expression on his face doesn’t relent, so I add, “It won’t happen again.”

I step around him, desperate to get on the ice and get back a semblance of normalcy.

“Not so fast.” He steps in front of me, his hand landing on my shoulder to stop me in my tracks.

“I thought you wanted me on the ice,” I say, motioning toward the locker room door just a few feet away. “None of your other players can quite get their slapshots in order, no matter how much they practice. You know I’m the only one who can create the time and space.”

“Funny you should say that,” he says, pulling out his phone from his blazer again.

He swipes a few times before holding it up toward me.

The screen displays a photo of me mid-game, still in my blue and red gear, lined up for the winning slapshot in our last game.

Below it, a bold caption reads: “Lucas Walker: First Ranger to tie the Knot!”

I feel my cheeks heat up slightly. I’ve never really liked seeing photos of myself in the news, but now adding my personal life into the mix…it’s somehow worse. Way worse.

“Seriously?” I ask, taking the phone from him and scrolling down.

“I thought you wanted a statement from us. This is a whole article.” My eyes skim through it, catching words like ‘ secretly married ’ and ‘ sudden commitment ’.

“What happened to the statement you wanted from me and Hannah? It’s not even in here. ”

He smirks, clearly unfazed. “Call it payment for springing this Vegas wife on me mid-playoffs.”

“And I guess for being late,” I mutter, my eyes still glued to the article and the comments that seem to double every time I look again.

“Oh no, for being late I got you and your new wife tickets for a charity gala.”

I stop scrolling and hand him back his phone. “You’re not serious. Harry you know I don’t like to attend those.”

“Well, you do now.” Harry’s smirk deepens.

“Face it, Walker, your spotlight just got a bit brighter. And it’s shining on your new wife too.

You need to make sure you’re ready for the scrutiny.

” He shrugs and I get the distinct feeling he’s somehow enjoying this.

“Everyone wants to know about the newly married Ranger and this wife he’s been hiding away. ”

I sigh, running my hand over my face, feeling the weight of the added attention.

But deep down, I know he’s right. It’s part of the deal, part of the life I’ve chosen.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that this new attention on my personal life is going to take on a whole new shape, since it includes my marriage.

“Her name is Hannah,” I tell him, not liking the way he keeps referring to her as my ‘new wife’, as if she's some kind of novelty. “She’s not some liability or a PR stunt, she’s the woman I married. So, I’ll talk to her and see if she’ll be up for the gala.”

Harry’s eyes remain hard as a chuckle escapes his throat. “Listen kid, if I had the luxury of believing in love, I would. But this is the NHL. There’s only room for ice and duty.”

I have no idea what happened in Harry’s life that he’s become this jaded. All I know is that I can’t allow him to bring his personal beliefs about Hannah’s intentions into my marriage.

I move past Harry, keen to get away from the GM and onto the thing I’m actually good at. “Can I please just get to practice?”

“You better hurry,” Harry says, following me back in the direction of his office. “It doesn’t look good when the alternate captain is late for practice.”