Page 8

Wren

“Y ou have a visitor.”

I glance up from the paperwork on my desk to see Laura standing in my doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is it Micah?” I ask, slightly worried about seeing him. He’s called me three times today, but I ignored every call. I don’t know what to say to him. He’s the one person I’ve always been able to tell anything. Now, I’m keeping something from him. It feels wrong and weird.

“Nope. This one is even hotter than your brother. I think he’s one of his teammates?”

Archer.

A thrill goes through me, turning me inside out and upside down. Lord. If he knew what he was capable of doing to me…

“Can you show him back here, please?” I ask Laura, ignoring the question in her eyes. I’m not prepared to explain to the biggest gossip in my office why my brother’s captain is here to see me. She’ll tell everyone. And someone will inevitably blab to Micah. Then boom. World explosion.

I already feel like our secret is a ticking bomb counting down toward detonation. No sense being the one who sets off the explosion.

“Yeah, I’ll show him back,” she says, a touch of disappointment in her voice as she turns, hurrying off.

I quickly comb my finger through my hair and then straighten my top, trying to pretend my heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. It’s a ridiculous feeling when I spent all night in his bed. When he spent half of it inside me. But I’m nervous anyway.

Right up until he appears in the doorway, his hair damp, his cerulean eyes as bright as ever. God, he looks good. His T-shirt stretches across the muscles in his chest, clinging in a way that makes my fingers itch to trace every line.

I had my hands and mouth all over that body last night.

It still doesn’t feel like real life. But if I wake up and this is all a dream…I might actually cry this time.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, a little breathless. I’m surprised he even knows where I work in the city…and not surprised at the same time. I have a feeling he knows a hell of a lot more about me than I ever thought he did. And I’m guessing he didn’t come by the knowledge simply by listening to Micah.

He told me yesterday not to ask questions I wasn’t ready to hear the answers to, and I hesitated, afraid of what secrets he might spill. But I have a pretty good idea of what he’s been up to for the past year. Watching me. Following me, maybe.

That should scare the hell out of me. I should be running in the opposite direction. But even with the evidence of his obsession staring me in the face, I’m not afraid of him. And I don’t want to run. Maybe that says as much about me as it does him.

“Came to offer my wife a ride home,” he murmurs.

“Archer,” I whisper, glancing past him to make sure Laura isn’t lurking. I wouldn’t put it past her. “You aren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” he growls, sauntering toward me. “I’m not going to pretend that you aren’t mine when we’re alone, Wren. I don’t want to pretend at all.”

My stomach dips, butterflies dancing a samba in there.

He reaches my side, leaning down to haul me out of his chair. His arms close around me, surrounding me in his scent. “Fuck,” he groans, burying his face in my hair. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” I whisper.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“You mean to my own house?”

He narrows his eyes on me, and I have to fight the urge to smile. “You’re sleeping in our bed tonight, little bird. With me.”

“I have my own bed, Archer,” I say…though I’m not sure if I’m reminding him or myself. The truth is that I want to stay with him. I want to pretend that we’re real and possible and not just some Vegas mistake. I want to give him the chance he asked for last night, the one I think he wants just as badly as I do and maybe for just as long. But that’s dangerous because the more time I spend with him, the more the lines blur. And the less I remember why I’m not allowed to have him.

“Yeah, you do,” he agrees, a growl in his voice. “It’s in our bedroom at our house.” He sinks his hand into my hair, craning my head back. The way he tugs sends a jolt straight to my clit. “Do not make me remind you here and now just how much you like sleeping with me, baby.”

I bite my tongue, resisting the instinctive urge to defy and challenge him. There’s only one way that’ll end…with me sprawled over my desk while he proves that he can and will win this argument even if he has to play dirty to do it. He may obey the rules on the ice, but when it comes to me? I’m not sure there’s a single damn rule in the book he isn’t willing to violate six ways to Sunday if it gets him what he wants. Which is, apparently, me in his bed.

“Why are you fighting this?” he asks, his lips inches from mine. “We both know you want to be in bed with me, riding my cock again tonight, wife .”

My stomach dips and spins again. Images from last night race to the surface of my mind, making it hard to think. He’s right. I do want to be with him. I want him all over me again, that gritty voice in my ear while he whispers filthy things and sends me flying to heaven.

“Micah,” I manage to whisper the reminder. Barely.

“I told him about us today.”

My heart plummets all the way to my toes, anxiety rising in a tidal wave. “Archer! What? Why?” I slip out of his arms, my hair sliding through his fingers. “Have you completely lost it? Oh my god. No wonder he’s blowing up my phone today. He’s probably on the way here right now.” I plant my hands against Archer’s chest, pushing, but I might as well be trying to move a mountain. He doesn’t even budge. “You have to go before he finds you here and murders you!”

“Wren, baby.” He grabs my arms, hauling me back into his embrace. “Breathe for me.”

I inhale a sharp breath. It doesn’t make me feel any better. Micah is going to catch him here. There will be bloodshed. And it’ll be all my fault for not insisting we annul the marriage as soon as we woke up in Vegas.

“I didn’t tell him that we’re married, little bird.”

“You didn’t?” Is that…disappointment I feel? Yes. Yes, it is. I don’t even know why! But I’m curiously, oddly disappointed. Because I feel guilty for lying to Micah? Because I don’t want Archer to regret marrying me?

Oh, God. I’m spiraling. He worked sex magic on me last night, and now I’m losing it just like he is. Because, dammit all, I don’t want to be a mistake he regrets. I want this to be real with every fiber of my being. And, for a split second, I thought that maybe it could be.

“I told him that you’re mine, and that we’re going to be together.” He grimaces. “I skated a thin fucking line around the truth, but I didn’t lie, and I didn’t tell him that we’re married, either.”

“How…” I lick my lips and try again. “How did he take it?”

“You mean after he finished telling me to keep my hands off you?” Archer quirks a brow and then shrugs.

“So he’s mad,” I whisper, not really surprised. As far as Micah is concerned, I’m not dating a guy he knows and trusts. I’m dating a hockey player. I’m signing myself up for a lifetime of making this sport my life when it almost killed me once. He isn’t going to be reasonable.

“He’ll get over it, Wren.” Archer tips my head back, stroking my cheek like he’s trying to soothe me. “I don’t want to sneak around behind his back or lie to him. I respect both of you too much for that. I know you don’t want to sneak around, either. This ensures we don’t have to do that. We can ease him into the idea of us.”

“Until we annul the marriage,” I mutter, the thought making my stomach hurt.

“Stop looking for an escape hatch, little bird,” he growls. “It’s pissing me off to know you don’t want this the same way I do.”

My stomach flutters. So does my heart. “I’m not looking for an escape,” I whisper. “I just don’t want to be something you regret.”

“You think I could? I already told you that I’m going to convince you that we aren’t a mistake, baby girl,” he murmurs, dipping his head to brush his lips across mine. “You’re going to fall for me.”

I whimper softly…but I don’t tell him that I don’t need convincing. I’m already there. I was there months ago. Admitting that seems massive, though. It seems huge.

Are we ready for that? I don’t know. We’ve only been an us for two days!

“Are you finished for the day?” he asks before I can figure out what to say.

“I just need to finish up some paperwork.”

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, turning me toward my desk. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Where are my panties?” I grumble, searching through my overnight bag. My stuff is spread across the foot of the bed, every item of clothing in it strewn around. The five pairs of panties I packed are mysteriously missing, however.

Archer makes a sound, and I glance up to find him leaning back against the headboard, his hands locked together behind his head. Aside from the scratch marks I left down his chest and his boxers, he’s naked. Too damn delicious. He’s also smirking like he knows something I don’t.

“Archer!” I growl, eyes narrowed on him. “Where are my panties?”

“You mean the ones I stole while you were blow-drying your hair? Don’t know. Haven’t seen them.”

“Oh, my God. I need those!” I cry, stomping around the side of the bed toward him. “Give them back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wren.”

“You are such a liar!” I jab him in the stomach with a finger. Jeez. His abs are rock hard. “Give them to…ahh!” I scream as he moves like lightning. One minute, he’s all cool and casual. The next, he’s got his arms around my waist, hauling me onto the bed beneath him.

“Get off me,” I grumble, shoving against his thighs. “And give me back my panties.”

“No can do, little bird.” He smirks down at me like the dang cat that ate the canary. Or the hockey player that ate the wren. I mean, that is what he did after dinner. Right on the kitchen table, too. Scandalous. “You aren’t getting them back.”

“I’m wearing a dress tomorrow!”

“Easy access.” He dips his head, blocking out the rest of his room. Which is hard to do because I’m in love with this room. The walls are rock, with massive windows that let natural light in. It’s like a haven in here.

“It is not easy access! It’s me risking showing my ass to my clients.” I scowl at him. “They’re kids, Archer. They do not need to see that. Give me back my panties.”

“Fine. But only if I get something out of it.”

“That is not how panty theft works.” I smile despite myself. This man is wild, and I love it. He is not keeping my panties, though. No way. “You apologize, give them back, and promise you’re a reformed panty thief in exchange for a lighter sentence.”

“Yeah, fuck that. I’ll give them back if you agree to come to the game tomorrow.”

I stare up at him, smiling like an idiot. “You’re holding my panties hostage to get me to agree to go to your game tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He shifts, leaning halfway off the bed before he grabs a ball of fabric and drops it onto my stomach.

I glance down, my heart skipping a beat when I realize what it is. Definitely not my panties.

“I want you in the stands, wearing my number, Wren.”

“Archer…” I pick up the jersey, staring at his name and the number 93 emblazoned across the back.

“Don’t give a fuck what your brother thinks,” he growls before I can say anything further, his eyes dark. “I want to look up in the stands and see my wife in my jersey.”

How can I say no to that? I can’t. It isn’t possible. Micah already knows about us. He actually texted me tonight, demanding that I stop seeing Archer. I ignored him because…well, because he doesn’t get to boss me around and tell me what to do.

Me showing up in Archer’s jersey will probably piss him off. But maybe he needs to be pissed. Maybe he needs to learn that I’m not a little girl who needs her big brother looking out for her anymore. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to lose Archer either. That might actually kill me.

“Okay,” I whisper, staring up at him.

He blinks like he expected more of an argument. And that makes me feel about two inches tall. He’s been fighting for me this whole time, and I’ve spent the past two days freaking out, worried about everyone’s feeling but his. That isn’t fair. He deserves better.

Resolve courses through me, sending my heart thumping against my breastbone. I’m wearing his jersey tomorrow. I’m telling Micah to butt out. And one way or another, we’ll figure out what happens between us on our own. It’s our choice. Not Micah’s. Not anyone else’s.

“Really? You’ll wear it?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to hide either, Archer.”

“Fuck,” he groans, crashing his mouth against mine. His kiss is wild and unrestrained. And before it’s over, I’ve got his boxers around his knees and my legs around his waist.

He thrusts into me with a long, low groan I feel all the way to the depths of my soul. “Wren,” he breathes, rocking into me in a way that leaves me breathless and gasping, as desperate for more of him as always.

I throw my head back, moaning his name.

“Christ, Wren. You’re so fucking tight and perfect.” He buries his face in my throat, growling. “Being in you makes a grown man want to cry, baby girl. You feel so goddamn good. So good.”

“Archer,” I whimper, loving the way he speaks to me, confessions whispering from his lips like he just can’t keep himself from spilling all his truths.

“Tell me it’s mine, Wren.” He pumps harder, hitting that magical spot inside. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I say immediately, clutching at his shoulders. “I’m yours, Archer.”

He growls again, pounding into me like he just can’t stop himself. I cry out, already right there on the edge. His fingers dancing across my clit send me careening over into bliss.

He follows me over with a grunt, planting himself deep as he spills into me again and again.

“My wife,” he breathes, his lips against my throat. “My perfect, perfect wife.”

I cling to him, panting. Trembling. Falling even deeper.

And when he reaches beneath the pillow, yanking out the panties he stole before dropping them on my chest…I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in so damn long. Because of him.

“Wren!” Alice Madison, the team’s publicist, waves me over as soon as I step through the player’s entrance at the arena. She’s standing across the hall, dressed in team colors and stilettos. Emilia Lariat, Coach Lariat’s daughter, is standing beside her.

I exhale a relieved breath, glad they’re here, at least. Most of the players’ wives ignore me when I come around. I guess I’m not important enough for them. But Emilia was nice when I met her before Vegas. And Alice is always great. I adore her.

“Hey.” I reach out, pulling Alice into a hug before I hug Emilia. “I’m so glad you guys are here tonight.”

“I just bet you are,” Alice says, smirking at me. “Number 93, huh?”

“Don’t ask,” I groan, pressing my hands to my cheeks. “Micah is going to flip out.”

“Yep,” Alice says.

“He just worries about you,” Emilia adds like she knows something I don’t. Hell, maybe she does. She’s the team’s new therapist. Maybe he talks to her. I hope he talks to her. He needs to talk to someone. He’s texted me four more times since last night, demanding that I break up with Archer.

I ignored him each time…but I won’t be able to ignore him forever. As soon as he sees me in Archer’s jersey, he’ll know that I’ve made my choice. He’s going to be a total grump about it.

Alice loops her arm through mine, laying her head against mine. “Don’t even worry about it, girl. He’ll be fine once he gets used to the idea of you and Archer dating.”

“Yeah.” I bite my lip, battling back the urge to blurt out that we got married in Vegas. I haven’t told a single soul, and secrets are not friends. Specifically, they aren’t my friends. I’m terrible at keeping them! But this one has to be kept. At least for now. At least until Micah has time to get used to the idea of us.

“Let’s go wish them good luck and find our seats,” Emilia suggests.

My stomach trembles but I nod anyway.

The three of us make our way down the hall toward the locker room. Emilia hums to herself, but Alice is quiet at my side.

“You’re quiet tonight.” I peek over at her to find her lips turned down, a faraway look on her face.

“What? Oh.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Team stuff?” Emilia and Nash are sleeping together behind Coach Lariat’s back. Logan is losing it over a woman he just met. Who knows who else is causing her stress? They constantly keep her busy. If one of them isn’t up to something, another is.

“Yeah, something like that.”

The way she says it makes me think it’s not team stuff at all, but I don’t pry. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. But I do squeeze her arm, shooting her a sympathetic smile.

“Whatever it is, it’ll work out,” I murmur.

“Yeah.” She sighs before pasting a bright smile on her face. “And so will this thing between Archer and Micah. Just give it time.”

Easy for her to say. She’s not the reason the two men she loves most in the world may end up hating each other. And she won’t be responsible if it rips the whole team apart. That’d be me, party of one.

“Wren!”

I groan internally as Micah’s sharp voice cuts across the hallway. When I glance up, he’s stomping toward me, his face set and his brown eyes narrowed. He looks mad as hell.

“Crap,” I whisper.

“Good luck.” Alice squeezes my arm and then gently untangles her arm from mine. Her and Emilia disappear, leaving me to face my brother alone.

“Hey,” I mutter when he reaches me.

“Hey? I’ve been trying to call you since yesterday,” he growls.

“I know.” I meet his gaze, stealing myself for this battle. “I’ve been ignoring you. You don’t get to make demands like I’m four, and expect me to obey, Micah.”

He looks at my jersey, his lips compressing into a thin line. “You’re wearing his jersey. Are you fucking him?”

“Keep your voice down!” I snap. “And what happens between the two of us is our business, not yours.”

“Jesus Christ. You are fucking.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, grinding his back teeth together.

“What if we are?” I glare up at him, my arms crossed. Defiant. “That’s my business, Micah!”

Archer emerges from the locker room, his eyes immediately coming to me. He takes a step like he’s going to come over here, but I quickly shoot him a look, silently pleading for him to wait. I need to handle this one on my own. And Micah is mad enough already. The last thing I need is them coming to blows right before their game.

He jerks his head in a nod, letting me know he understands. But he doesn’t go back inside the locker room. He just stands there…patiently waiting. Watching over me.

I want to cry. How did we mess everything up so badly that Micah is mad at us both and Archer’s worried about leaving me alone with my own brother? None of this was supposed to happen!

“You’re fucking my captain—my best friend—and you don’t think it’s my business? You used to tell me everything, Wren,” Micah says. “Now, I have to hear it from him instead.”

Guilt rips through me. He’s right. Once upon a time, I did tell him everything. And then I fell for Archer. Now, I can’t talk to him because he’s the reason I’ve hidden it for so damn long. He’s the reason I felt like I had to pretend it wasn’t happening. And that’s not really his fault. He’s never been anything short of the most amazing brother to me. But I almost died, and he’s felt guilty ever since. It screwed everything up.

Or maybe I’m the one screwing everything up. Maybe I’m trying so damn hard to please everyone that I’m not being fair to anyone. I don’t know anymore. It seemed so simple when Archer and I were in that bed in Vegas. No one would find out. No one would get hurt.

But that was before I knew Archer feels the same damn way I do. It’s not simple and uncomplicated now. It’s not just their friendship on the line or my relationship with Micah. It’s my heart and Archer’s too. Don’t our needs and hopes and dreams and feelings deserve consideration in all of this?

I think so. And I think, if I were anyone else, Micah would agree. But I’m his sister and he’s a pain in the ass, so he’s going to be stubborn and refuse to see it from our side because his feelings are hurt.

I try to reason with him anyway.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I whisper to Micah. “You’ve always been the best brother. I should have told you when I realized how I felt, but I didn’t want to give you another reason to worry about me. I didn’t want to come between the two of you. But I…like him, Micah. I really like him. I have for a while. I can’t just pretend that isn’t happening because you don’t like it. That’s not fair to me or to him.”

“You don’t even know him, Wren,” Micah growls.

“Stop,” I plead. “Just stop. He’s your best friend, and we both know he’s your best friend because he’s a good guy. Don’t pretend like that isn’t true just because you don’t want me dating one of your teammates.”

My brother mutters a curse, shoving his hand through his hair. “It’s not about that, Wren.”

“Really? Because it sounds like it to me,” I mutter. “He was good enough until I started dating him, and now he isn’t.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“ This is bullshit!” I cry. “It’s my life, Micah. And I get to decide what I do with it.”

“Yeah, well, as history has proven, you can’t be trusted to look after your own best interests. Your decisions suck.”

I rock back on my heels like he slapped me, shock coursing through me. He must see it on my face because he flinches, regret stamped across his face.

“Shit. I didn’t mean–”

“Yeah, you did,” I whisper quietly, taking a step away from him. “You still think I’m the reckless ten-year-old little girl who walked out onto that ice. I’ll never be anything but her in your eyes.”

“Wren, that isn’t–”

“Yeah, it is.” I bite my lip, fighting not to cry. “Well, at least now I know, right?”

“Goddammit,” he growls, reaching for me.

I dodge him, ducking under his arm. “Just go away, Micah. We have nothing further to discuss.”

He tries to stop me again, calling my name, but I ignore him. I’m numb. Angry. All this time, I thought it was guilt that made him so overprotective. It isn’t. In his eyes, I’m still just a stupid kid, recklessly putting myself in danger.

I walk straight to Archer, who opens his arms for me without a word. I burrow into his embrace, breathing him in. Letting him steady me.

“It’ll be okay, little bird,” he whispers, his lips against my crown. “I promise you; it’ll be okay.”

“I know,” I whisper back. One way or another, it will be. But that doesn’t make it suck any less right now.