thirty-one

GRIFFIN

The next few weeks fly by in a blur of practice, games, and quiet moments with Mira. Things with her are mostly back to the way they were prior to that night at the bar, but I wish I felt that euphoria I had when Mir called me her husband for the first time.

Even though it’s what she calls me when we’re alone, now, and I love it, I can’t help feeling like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it’s self-sabotaging, but whenever we have really great moments, my mind keeps wondering if it’s the last time.

We have epic sex that ends with us wrapped tightly around each other, Mira’s face flushed and glowing with sweat, and I wonder if this is the last time I’ll get to make love to her.

She laughs, so free and beautiful, and I wonder if one day she’ll look at me with the same cold disdain so many of my exes wore in the end.

It’s not healthy, and I know it, but my confidence is shaken, and I can’t help comparing this marriage with all my failed relationships.

Mira has picked up on the shift in my moods, and she’s been trying so hard to reassure me.

Whenever we’re alone, she’s touching me, kissing me, telling me all the things she loves about me.

Still, she doesn’t come right out and say that she loves me , and I can’t shake my fears enough to tell her I love her.

And I do, I’ve realized. I fucking love the woman with every terrified fiber of my being.

“Hey, babe?” Mira’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I stare at my clothes, contemplating what to pack for our next away series.

We leave in two days, and I’ve been dreading it and looking forward to it in almost equal measure.

I don’t want to be away from my wife, but I’m also looking forward to four days of quality time with my boys.

We’re playing New York in their barn, and I’m excited to explore the city.

We’ve got a list of places we want to go, with each of us contributing our New York bucket list ideas.

Looking over my shoulder at my wife, I drink her in and smile. She looks beautiful. Her hair is curled and loose around her shoulders, the deep purple sweater she’s wearing makes her green eyes appear even more vibrant than normal, and her jeans hug her ass perfectly. “Hey, sunshine. What’s up?”

“I was just thinking that we haven’t really gone out anywhere this week. Want to walk around the North Loop? I’ve been wanting to visit that cute little bookshop down there, and then I thought we could get some lunch?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, looking almost shy.

Maybe I’m not the only one feeling insecure.

Turning, I close the distance between us and pull my wife into my arms, enjoying the way she sighs and presses into my chest like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. “That romance bookstore? What’s it called again?”

“It’s a Love Story,” she says, her words muffled against my chest.

Right. “I’ve heard that place is awesome, and I could use something to read on the plane. Let’s do it.”

The smile Mira gifts me with when she looks up at me is blinding. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah, babe. You know I love a good romance.”

“I do. Maybe we…” Mira chews on her bottom lip again, and I tug it free with my thumb.

“Maybe we what?”

“Maybe we could read the same book while you’re in New York?”

I love that idea. Especially since I think I can make it even better. “That sounds fun. Can I pick the book? I got a few recommendations from one of the Facebook groups I’m in that I think would be perfect. We can read our favorite passages to each other.”

I’m going to read her straight smut. The books I have in mind are apparently absolutely filthy in the best way.

My smile grows as I imagine how pink Mira’s cheeks will get when I read sex scenes to her.

Hopefully, I can convince her to act some of them out with me.

Swear to god, some of these authors have the dirtiest fucking minds.

And maybe I’ll pick one where the dude does that growly thing women seem to go wild for.

I’ll have to practice my growling if I do that, though.

There’s a right way and a wrong way to do the romance growl.

I want to make Mira wet, not keel over with laughter.

“You’d really do that?” she asks.

Why is she surprised? She’s seen my bookshelves. They’re like twenty percent hockey related, ten percent biographies, a few sci-fi books, then the rest are romance.

“I’d do anything for you, sunshine. You should know that by now.

” Leaning down, I take her mouth in a kiss that’s anything but chaste.

My tongue sweeps across hers, earning a moan that has me hard as a fucking rock.

I’m tempted to strip her naked right here in our closet, but she got dressed all cute and did her makeup, so as much as I’d love to ruin it in the best way, I force myself to pull away.

Our physical chemistry has never been an issue. But Mira is right—we don’t spend enough time with each other out and about—and I don’t want our relationship to suffer for it.

“Let me change out of these sweats and we can go, okay?”

Breathing hard, Mira looks up at me with flushed cheeks and blown pupils, nodding. “Okay. But Griffin?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Maybe wear your normal stuff instead of the polos and khakis you’ve been wearing lately?”

I bark out a laugh. “You don’t like the polos?” Here I thought I was dressing like the kind of guy Mira was looking for. Someone serious and staid.

“They’re fine, if that’s what you really want to wear, but they don’t feel like you, you know?” She rests her palm on my chest and blinks up at me with those pretty green eyes. “I just want you to be you. So, if that’s polos and khakis, cool. But if not, wear what you’re comfortable in, okay?”

Damn. My chest warms. It’s stupid, because it’s such a small thing, but I guess I needed the reassurance that my girl doesn’t want me to be someone I’m not. Grinning like an idiot, I nod. “Got it. Give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go.”

An hour later, I’m walking down the sidewalk in jeans and a hoodie, a baseball cap pulled low to hide my face from as many curious fans as possible, my wife’s hand in mine.

It’s probably a risk to be openly affectionate in public like this, but Mira hasn’t tried to pull away, and I’m at the point where I don’t care if Madds beats the shit out of me if someone publishes a photo of me and his sister.

I just need to hold her hand, kiss her, claim her.

Mira sips her coffee, laughing at a stupid story about the trouble her brother and I got into our first couple of years on the Rogues.

It feels good. Right. Like this is what I want to do for the next fifty years and beyond.

We don’t have to do anything exciting or earth-shattering.

As long as I’ve got my wife at my side, we could spend the rest of our days in the Twin Cities, walking hand in hand, eating at the same three restaurants, sitting in the same coffee shop, and I’d be happy as a goddamn clam.

“I didn’t know my brother was such a troublemaker,” Mira says between giggles.

“He wasn’t, not really. I just dragged him along with me.”

“You’re a bad influence.” She looks up at me, eyes shining and smile bright.

I chuckle. “Yeah, probably.”

“But he needs that, sometimes. He’s always been so serious and responsible. I think he felt like he had to be after our dad left.”

Glancing down at the beautiful woman who lights up my life, I’m struck by a deep sense of anger and disbelief that her deadbeat dad could have walked away from her and never looked back.

Madds and I don’t talk about it much, but there were a few times in college when he got drunk and told me the whole story.

It was one of the things that motivated him to be the best. If he was the best, he’d be able to make sure his mom and sister were always taken care of.

“You’re probably right. Even in college, it was hard to get him to let go. I dragged him to parties and events as often as I could, but he was adamant that he couldn’t do anything that would jeopardize his scholarship.”

Mira nods. “It was also so he could lecture me.”

I bark out a laugh at that. “What?”

She grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah. One weekend during my junior year of high school, I got drunk enough at a party that my best friend had to call my mom to come pick me up. She was not happy. Especially since it was at one of the football player’s houses, and he had a bit of a reputation. Plus, I kinda puked in her car.”

“Oh shit,” I say, laughing. “Your mom is sweet as hell, but I know she can be scary.” You can’t be a single mom and not develop some fire.

“Yeah. She didn’t yell at me that night, but the next day, she let me have it, made me clean out the car, grounded me for a month, and told Maddox what I’d done.

” She says it all with this wistful tone that speaks to how close the three of them are.

“Maddy lectured me for an hour and told me that if he could keep from going out and getting drunk in college, surrounded by parties every weekend and teammates who were always going out to bars, that I had no excuse. Then he lectured me for another hour about never taking a drink from anyone, never setting a cup down, and about how it was normal at my age to be curious about sex and how to be safe about it.”

I can picture that awkward conversation in perfect clarity, and I’m laughing my ass off as we get closer to the bookstore. “Oh man, he didn’t.”

She nods. “He did. It was mortifying. And maybe it makes no sense, but I was almost more scared to disappoint Maddy than I was to disappoint my mom. We’ve always been so close, and he’s always been my protector.”

Her words don’t diminish the tightness that’s wrapped itself around my chest like a boa constrictor ever since that night at the bar, but it puts things in perspective for me.

For as long as Mira can remember, she’s looked up to her big brother.

He’s been her friend and protector, and even though they’re not far apart in age, in lots of ways, he was the father figure she never had.

I’ve always known this to a degree, but I guess I didn’t realize how deep it runs for her.

But with that perspective comes the unwelcome worry I’ve been fighting off since the morning we woke up in bed together in Vegas.

Does she think Maddox will be disappointed in her for marrying me?

“It’s also one of the reasons I decided to go to school in Chicago,” she continues.

“Because I love my brother to pieces, but do you know how much it sucks to be a teenager living in the shadow of your perfect brother? Not only was he this hockey phenomenon, but he was serious and studious and never did anything irresponsible.” She rolls her eyes, even though there’s no real annoyance behind it.

“I don’t have any siblings, so I don’t totally get it, but I do have an older cousin who is literally a rocket scientist. It doesn’t matter that I’m one of the best wingers in the league.

When we have family reunions, she’s still the scientist, and I’m the guy who plays with sticks for a living.

” My cousin Erica is cool as hell, but I get how it may suck to feel you’re constantly living in the shadow of a family member.

Her little giggle is bright, and I need her closer.

Dropping her hand, I wrap my arm around her shoulder, and when she reaches up and links her fingers with mine, my heart feels like it’s a ball of light.

“You do more than play with sticks for a living, babe. But yeah. I guess sometimes it seems like he has all these expectations for me, and I’ve worked so hard to make something of myself, but he’s this famous hockey player, and I just make websites. ”

“You’re incredibly talented. It’s more than just making websites, and you know it.

You take photos and information and create something that pulls people in and lets them feel like they’re a part of something.

Don’t sell yourself short.” As we pause in front of the bookstore, I make sure my wife meets my gaze so she can see how serious I am.

“Your brother is proud as hell of you, sunshine. I get that you feel like you have something to prove, but he just wants you to be happy.”

Mira hums, and I can tell she’s not convinced.

“He’d probably be your biggest fan if it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, babe. I wish you could believe in yourself the way I believe in you. But that’s okay, you’ll get there.

I’ll make sure of it.” And I will. As we stand there on the sidewalk, people flowing around us like living water, resolve fills me.

“You’re fucking amazing, Mir. So talented and driven.

And you aren’t in your brother’s shadow, because you’re pure light and sunshine. ”

Mira’s cheeks are pink, and not just from the chilly late-February wind stinging her face. Her voice is a quiet caress as she stares up at me. “You have to say that because you’re my husband.”

Leaning down so our noses touch, I hold her gaze.

“I have to say that because I’m not a liar and it’s the truth.

Now, Mrs. Wright, let’s go into this bookstore and pick out some smutty books to keep you all hot and bothered while I’m away in New York.

I want you primed and ready for me when I get home. ”

“Still not changing my last name,” she says, chuckling as I open the door to It’s a Love Story and lead her in.

We stop in front of a wall full of sports romance books and I shrug. “Still willing to change mine.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She rests her head on my chest, her eyes scanning the colorful spines in front of us.

She still thinks I’m kidding. “Just wait, wifey. Now, how many books do you think you can carry back to the car?”

Her eyes widen, sparkling like emeralds. She sucks in a breath. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. I’ll buy you as many books as you can hold.” I drop her hand and give her ass a little smack. “Now get to shopping, sunshine. I’m going to find us two copies of that book I was talking about.”

My wife squeals and does a happy little wiggle, and before I’m even three feet away, she has four books in her arms and holds a fifth, reading the blurb on the back.

Every trace of her previous insecurity has been wiped off her face and replaced with the kind of joy I’m determined to inspire again and again.

I’ll spend my entire salary on books if it makes her happy.