Page 45 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

HANNAH

I take a deep breath, check my make-up and fix my hair before heading back out into the restaurant.

I know I shouldn’t let Megan’s words get to me.

Lucas has never given me reason to believe he prefers the company of other women over me.

This issue, like so many others, has everything to do with my own insecurities.

Because no matter how much I love him, the fact remains that we’ve been apart for the past five years.

And a lot can happen in five years.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I refuse to go down that train of thought. It’s hard to fight the voices when they’re coming from my own mind, when they’re telling me that I have no business being in his world, that I don’t know him as a famous hockey player, that I won’t fit in here with him.

‘Take every thought captive.’ The verse from Scripture echoes in my mind.

Sometimes, I do that straight away. Other times, I’m not as quick on my feet. No matter my reflexes, there are always a few bruises left over from the battles I fight.

It’s all lies, Hannah. All of it.

Stepping out of the restroom, I collide with a hard chest, the scent of cedar wood and fresh ice surrounding me…

Lucas. I look up, finding the dark eyes of my husband staring back at me.

His dark hair curls in his neck and I fight the urge to run my fingers through it.

He glances over me, concern written in his features.

“Are you alright, Sanders?” he asks, his hands instinctively finding my arms as he pulls me close. I sink into his embrace, my hands finding his hard chest, his touch grounding and comforting.

Someone behind me clears their throat and Lucas gives an apologetic smile over my shoulder to the woman trying to leave the restroom.

He leads me further down the hallway, the muffled sounds of pots and pans come from the kitchen.

The air is rich with the scent of melted butter and spices as orders are being called in the kitchen.

I focus on his steady hand on my lower back as we try to find a quiet moment in the chaos.

“I’m fine, Luke,” I say, meaning it. With a sigh I look up into his concerned eyes. “This is just all very new to me. I think I’ve been on maybe two dates since we broke up. And neither of them were famous hockey players. So going from that, to this…”

I gesture vaguely: it’s everything. Our sudden marriage, the team, the women, the expectations.

“It’s a lot. Sometimes it might be a bit overwhelming.” I sigh, hating that I feel this way. “Please, just be patient with me.”

Still, I can’t shake the nagging thought that while I spent the past five years focused on school and work, barely dating, Lucas was living an entirely different life.

I don’t know what that looked like for him.

I don’t know if I want to know. Maybe that’s why seeing those women out there made me feel the way I did.

Not just because of what Megan said, but because Lucas and I are now married, and that doesn’t magically wipe away the things we did in our past. There are things about each other’s lives that we just don’t know.

“Anything you need,” he says, placing a kiss in my hair, lingering there and breathing me in. “Two dates?” he asks, with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Man those guys must’ve really set the bar low if you married me after a few hours.”

Despite myself, I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t know the half of it. But that’s not the point, Luke.”

“I know,” he says. He pulls away enough to look at me, the humor in his eyes fading.

“I just…I don’t want you to even think about what Megan said.

You’re the only woman who’s ever mattered.

” His hands shift gently, fingertips trailing along the bare skin of my lower back.

A slow, soothing touch, tracing small circles that send a shiver up my spine.

“There were a few times someone might’ve thought they had a shot, but they never did. It’s always been you, Hannah.”

I swallow, caught between relief and the weight of so many unspoken words still left between us.

“I still can’t believe you’re mine.” He rests his forehead against mine. “It feels surreal. I honestly don’t know how I’ve been living without you all these years, when now, in such a short time, I don’t want to be away from you. I don’t even want to think about us not being together.”

I know exactly what he means. It’s like no time has passed.

It feels like a cruel trick our minds are playing on us, because we were apart for such a long time and so much has happened while we were apart.

But at the same time, it feels like a gift from God.

We felt it while we were waiting—while we were in the thick of it—but now that the waiting is over, it’s like it never even happened.

The kitchen doors open and close just a few steps from us, waiters coming out carrying full trays.

Sound of popping champagne and laughter comes from the restaurant, reminding me that this is a celebration and that Lucas is in the middle of it.

The waiters give us an apologetic smile before giving us a bit more privacy.

“The next game is in Vancouver,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We have to fly out early tomorrow morning, so we can get enough practice. Maybe I could take you to this one little place if there’s time. They have the best croissants. I think you’ll like it there.”

The excitement and pure joy playing out on his features as he talks about his life, his hockey career is something I’m soaking up. I love that he’s this happy, that he found his dream, that he’s living it.

What about your dreams? What about the job waiting?

The thought sneaks in before I can stop it, an unsettling whisper at the back of my mind. I push it aside, deciding to file—it’s something that I should think about. Something I should talk to Lucas about.

Something I should pray about.

Lucas must notice the flicker of hesitation because he brushes his thumb over the small frown between my eyes.

“I know it can be a bit much, Sanders. It’s a lot of traveling, different cities and hotels. The schedules are insane but in the off season we’ll get some time to do something different, to relax and just be. But for now, I’d have to be with the team most of the time.”

“It’s the playoffs,” I say, smiling at him. My mind flashes to him on the ice, to the way he moves with determination and confidence, the way he scored the winning goal.

“It’s the playoffs,” he echoes. “The final round. The first time in ten years the Rangers make the final. There are some guys on this team who's been waiting a long time for a shot like this.” His eyes search mine for a second. He swallows. “I kind of just assumed that you’d go with me? To Vancouver” he asks, suddenly more serious.

“We haven’t spoken about the away games.

Would you rather like to stay? Or be with your parents? ”

I know he would let me stay in a heartbeat. He’d arrange for me to go back to Georgetown while he’s away if that’s what I really wanted. Because he cares about me and he’s always wanted to see me happy. It’s who he is.

But there’s only one answer.

“I want to be with you, Lucas. Every step of the way.”

His joy and elation is sudden, replacing the tension in his jaw. He lets out a laugh, suddenly picking me up and twirling me around. I let out a startled gasp, then a laugh, clinging to his shoulders as he spins me around. My heart feels light, his happiness spilling over into my own heart.

“I can’t tell you how much I’m thanking God that He sent you to me,” Lucas murmurs, before gently setting me down again.

His hands linger at my waist, like he’s reluctant to let me go completely.

His eyes are filled with warmth, something unshakable.

“You’re going to love Canada, Sanders. We’ll have to buy you a tuque, you won’t survive Vancouver without one. ”

Canada. Vancouver, Canada.

The realization slams into me, stealing my breath.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“I won’t be able to go,” I say, and it feels like the words are being ripped from my chest.

His hands tighten on my waist. “What? Why?”

“I don’t have a passport.”

I can’t believe that something as small as a passport is going to keep me from going with my husband. It’s something I’ve wanted to get done, but all my time and focus has been poured into my studies and work in Durham. I never needed to have my passport ready.

His expression falls. He steps away, shaking his head, running his fingers through his hair. I’m sure he’s trying to think of some sort of short term solution, but I’m sure there’s nothing we can do before the flight tomorrow morning.

We’ve been together for two days now, two nights, and now he’ll have to leave.

“How long will it be?” I ask, my voice small. “Three, four days?”

He swallows, his jaw tightening. “It would be at least six. We have the first two games of this round in Vancouver. Then game three and four will be here in New York. If they win, we’d have to go back to Vancouver.”

Six days.

The thought of him being away that long has my stomach in a knot. I can’t believe that there’s a possibility that I won’t even see him win the Stanley Cup if the Rangers don’t sweep the series.

“I’m sure there’s something we can do,” Lucas says, determination in his voice. “What if we get you some kind of temporary thing? It might not be by tomorrow morning, but maybe the day after. I’ll talk to Harry about it, I’m sure—“

Seeing him like this has my chest tightening with guilt. He’s not supposed to be worrying about something like this right now. He’s supposed to celebrate his amazing accomplishment with his team, while getting mentally ready to head to Vancouver tomorrow.

Instead he’s with me, worrying about a passport.

I reach up, gently cupping his face, my thumbs brushing over the roughness of his stubble.