Page 119 of If You Claim Me

I ate oatmeal for breakfast and grilled chicken and vegetables for lunch. I deserve a treat once in a while.

Dred

Okay. I’ll get you all the bad things, but only if you’ll also eat a side salad.

Meems

Deal.

CHAPTER 31

CONNOR

There are two minutes left in the third period. Ryker has managed a shutout, and we are up one goal against New York. I get into position as Bowman barrels down the ice with the puck. Madden is on his tail, trying to steal, but this is Bowman, and his stick-handling skills are second to none.

But I have the benefit of years with him on the ice. I’ve learned every move he has, and I understand his subtle shifts in posture, anticipating what’s next.

“Watch his wrist shot,” Ryker warns.

I see what he’s saying half a second before Bowman makes his move. It’s all the time I need. I manage to deflect it, passing the puck to Romero, who shoots it to Madden.

He takes off down the ice, Stiles and Bright flanking him. New York’s defense is still trying to get into position. Madden sees the opportunity, lines it up, and shoots the puck. It goes wide, but Stiles snags it, passing to me. I assess the odds. I can pass to Madden, but everyone is on him, and Bowman is in position, so I send a prayer to the hockey gods and take the shot. Another player tries to intercept it, but instead he taps it with his blade, changing the angle and sending it through the goalie’s five-hole.

Romero and Bright slam into me, whooping and giving me back pats. The last minute of the game is a scramble, but we maintain the shutout and win the game.

It’s a whirlwind after that, and we’re all riding the high of the win when we reach the locker room.

Madden gives me a chin tip. “Nice work out there tonight, Grace. That was a beautiful goal.”

I brush off the compliment. “We would have won regardless.”

“Doesn’t make it any less impressive.”

“He’s right. That was beautiful, and every goal counts,” Romero agrees. “Especially against New York.”

“Thanks.” I nod to Madden.

He grins and pats me on the back. “Maybe it’s the Dred effect.”

“Maybe.” I drop my head to hide my grin and focus on unlacing my skates.

I didn’t want our honeymoon weekend to be over. I wanted endless days of board games and reading her spicy romance aloud, breakfast in bed, exploring every inch of her body on repeat, making her come, hearing my name tumble from her lips on a whisper, a moan, a plea. But reality called, and I had to answer.

Two more days and I can get my fill of her again—if she wants me. If she wasn’t just caught up in the honeymoon vibe. Or maybe she was stuck with me for those uninterrupted days and fucking was a way to pass the time.

We shower and change into suits. A couple of the guys suggest grabbing drinks in the lobby bar, but pictures of me at a bar with my teammates a few days after my wedding will bring the vultures out.

Saying no to the team without an explanation, even though no one expects one from me, isn’t helpful. Mildred is right. If I let them, these guys could be like family. If I shift my role with myteam—and the people Mildred cares about the most—maybe I’ll be so ingrained in her life, she won’t want to give me up.

“I’d love to hang out, but the media are looking for a reason to put me in the headlines.” Whether it’s related to my career is irrelevant. “I’d like to stay out of their viewfinders when potential fans are around.”

Madden nods. If anyone understands the gravity of this, it’s him. “Why don’t we hang in my room then?”

“That sounds good.” I appreciate the pivot.

On the way up to Flip’s room, I check my messages. I have new ones from Mildred. I’ve changed her contact in my phone to reflect our relationship status.

My Darling Wife