The Penalty Box (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 3)

MICA DROVE me to work on the way to his morning practice. I needed to figure out my car situation, but I didn’t have the money to have a locksmith re-key my car for me. I would need to deal with that sooner than later, but until I got paid, I needed to live without my car. I planned on asking Krista for a small advance today so I could at least afford to take the bus to work so Mica didn’t have to drive me around.

He pulled up in front of my office building and parked his car.

“Thanks for the ride. I can take the bus going forward.”

“What are you going to do with your car?”

“Eventually get a key made for it.”

He frowned as the truth dawned on him. “You don’t have any money.”

“I have money, I just don’t have access to it until I get to the bank and get a new debit card.”

He shifted to pull out his wallet and passed me a wad of cash. “Here.”

“No, that’s okay.”

He grabbed my hand, put the money on my palm, and squeezed my fingers around it. “You need money to get a cab to the game.”

“I was going to ask for an advance from Krista.”

His expression darkened. “I’m your husband. You don’t need to ask for money from anyone.”

I’m your husband. That sounded more than weird.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, hating how uneven we felt.

He looked out the windshield. “We didn’t really talk about tonight.”

“Krista said she’d come to the game with me.”

“They are planning something for us after.”

I looked at my hands. I was dreading tonight. “I know.”

He glanced at me. “Krista said we feel like strangers.”

We are strangers. “We don’t know each other.”

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Things are going to happen, and I need you to just go with it.”

Could the guy get any more cryptic? “What do you mean?”

He couldn’t meet my eye. “Just… don’t fight me. Can you trust me on that?”

Did I have a choice? “Uh, okay.”

Satisfied, he looked back at me. “Thanks. For doing this for me.”

The guy had saved me after my place burned down, bought me thousands of dollars of clothes, housed and fed me and now was pushing money into my hands. I wasn’t sure he should be the one thanking me. “We are helping each other.”

We didn’t seem to have anything else to say, so I gathered my bags. “Thanks for the ride. Have fun playing tonight.”

My breath caught in my throat as I witnessed, for the first time in days, a smile spread across his face, making him one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen.

“Thanks, I will.”

“STOP FIDGETING,” Krista instructed.

I couldn’t help it. The game was about to start and for some reason, I was incredibly nervous. The last time I had attended a game had been over two years ago, and I remembered nothing about it. Now I was attending the game as Mica’s wife, and I felt the pressure of the upcoming party afterward.

“I can’t help it.” I looked down at the black dress pants, high heels, and gorgeous blouse that I wore to work. “How is my outfit?”

She eyed my clothes. “Mica has exceptional taste. You picked the perfect outfit for the party tonight.”

At least I got that right.

She leaned in. “How does it feel to be married?”

I threw her a dark look. “It’s nothing. This is just a platonic roommate situation, remember?”

The lights went out, and the crowd started to scream and cheer. Throbbing music deafened the stadium.

“What number is Mica?” I yelled in Krista’s ear.

She shook her head in amazement. “You’re the worst hockey wife in the world.”

“You know I hate hockey.”

“He’s number 28.”

Through a haze of smoke, the Wolves players streamed onto the ice, circling their half of the rink like Titans about to prepare for battle.

Without seeing his number, and even with their helmets and dark lights, I instantly picked Mica out. In real life, the guy was huge. On the ice, with all his equipment on, he looked like a warrior.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched him skate hard around the back of the net. He picked up a puck with the end of the stick and flipped his stick repeatedly, keeping the puck in the air before dropping it and taking a hard shot at the net. Mica off the ice was beyond attractive. Seeing him on the ice, with thousands of fans screaming for him and his team, made him seem transcendent.

Krista leaned towards me. “How do you feel about your platonic roommate now?”

I couldn’t even speak. For the first time in my life, I finally understood the female hockey fan. It wasn’t about the game or winning; it was all about the raw, unparalleled masculinity of these players.

“Puck bunnies are smarter than I thought.”

She laughed and put her arm around my shoulder. “And you married one of those immortals.”

I felt dazed. And that feeling didn’t fade.

How had I thought I hated hockey? There was a savageness to the game. Players with world-class skills skated hard to beat each other, plowing one another into the boards with a force that shook the Plexiglas. I could sense the camaraderie and exclusiveness of the team, and it was impossible not to want to be part of that. I started to clue in that this was why there were so many fans. Everyone wanted to feel part of the team that skated together on the ice.

In the midst of all that was Mica. The way he played reminded me of that fateful night behind the bar when he had come to my defense. On skates, he took on a different persona. He was fierce and intense, never letting up once during the game. I watched, my hands at my mouth, as he went toe to toe with another player, giving him a piece of his mind while backing the player up against the boards.

“What’s going on?” I asked Krista, my eyes glued to the scene unfolding.

“The other player got too close to our goalie.”

The surrounding crowd roared when Mica shoved the guy hard, nearly taking him off his skates. Two refs, who looked tiny in comparison, bravely waded in to pull Mica away.

“Is he in trouble?”

“Nope.”

The refs flanked Mica and skated him back towards the bench. I watched as he looked over his shoulder and yelled something at the guy. I couldn’t hear his words, but judging by the movement of his lips, he was using more than a few four-letter words.

I clutched Krista’s hand. “I married that.”

She laughed long and hard. “You’re just getting that now?”

My stomach was a mass of butterflies. I mentally made a note to never come out of my bedroom again. Until now, I had no idea what I was getting into. Now that I did, my best plan of attack was to retreat and hide. “Why did you let me do something so stupid?”

She squeezed my hand. “Because this is where he belongs. And you helped him get back here.”

This was true, but that didn’t help the fact that I was in way over my head where he was concerned.

During the intermission, I looked over at Krista. “I’m scared about the party.”

She grimaced. “You should be. Yesterday, you were acting like two polite strangers. You need to feign some emotion.”

I tried to imagine how to do that. I skirted away from him. I had trouble making eye contact, much less speaking to him. “Any tips?”

“Yes. Lots, but let’s start with a few basic ones. You have three feet of personal space that you don’t want anyone to penetrate. Close the gap. Stand closer to him.”

“Close the gap.”

“When it doubt, just smile a lot and lean towards him. If he’s talking, don’t look elsewhere. Everything he does, pretend it fascinates you. Try to look like you adore him.”

The guy did fascinate me. I wouldn’t have to pretend.

“Smile and lean,” I repeated.

“If you have your eyes on him like you did during this game, no one will question how you’re feeling.”

“If I fuck up, will you come and save me?”

She shook her head. “Nope. This is the Mica and Charlie show. It’s totally up to the two of you now.”

KRISTA WISELY DIDN’T LET me near the family green room. She told me that all eyes would be on me and instead she texted Mica to meet us privately. She flashed her badge to the security guard and then led me down a long cement hallway.

My heart started to beat erratically when he came walking towards us. He was wearing a dark suit, and his hair was still damp from his shower.

“Where is the party?” Krista didn’t let either of us get a word in edgewise.

“They booked the entire bar at the Marchione Hotel.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s impressive.”

He glanced at me. “Ready to go?”

No. I wasn’t ready. Not even close. “Sure.”

“See you there?” he asked Krista.

“Oh darling, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

I glanced back at her.

“Close the gap,” she mocked as I walked away.

Mica led me out to the private staff parking lot. “How did you like the game?”

“I don’t remember hockey being like that.”

He grinned as he tossed his bag in the back. “What does that mean?”

I waited until we were both seated in his Porsche. “It just seemed intense.”

“Wait until the playoffs. That’s when it gets intense.”

I couldn’t imagine a game getting more intense than the one I had just witnessed.

We drove in silence for a while before he asked, “What does close the gap mean?”

I blushed. “I was getting tips on how to manage this party. Krista advised I stand closer to you.”

He didn’t speak.

I tried to explain. “She said I have a big personal space.”

“You’re prickly.”

“I am not!”

He threw a mild glance at me. “You’re showing your prickles right now.”

“I’m just warning you I might edge closer than you are used to, and I’m supposed to look at you with adoration.”

“Just don’t fight me, and we’ll be fine.”

We pulled up in front of the hotel.

“What does that mean?” I felt panic as we pulled up to the valet. “Why would I fight you? You said that same thing this morning.”

He didn’t answer because someone opened my door for me. He came around the car and together we walked towards the hotel. Even with my high heels, I barely came up to his shoulder.

As we walked through the door, he put a big hand on the small of my back, causing alarming sparks to zip up my spine. Then, as we walked across the lobby, he put his arm around my shoulder, tugging me close to him.

I went stiff as a board. He leaned down, and his hot breath blew against my ear. “Don’t fight me. Try to relax.”

I stopped walking. My hands were ice cold, and my nerves were strung so tight I thought they might snap. “I can’t relax. I’m so nervous.”

He stepped in so close, our bodies touched. He put his hand under my chin and lifted my face. “I’m going to be all over you tonight.”

“What?” I squeaked.

He looked apologetic. “I’m an affectionate guy when I date someone. Everyone in there knows that.”

“You’re going to be affectionate with me?” Saying that out loud didn’t make it any better.

“If you seem nervous, everyone will understand that. But try not to pull away from me. Just… go with it.”

Mica being physically affectionate in front of all those people was a terrifying prospect.

“Go with it,” I repeated.

“Yeah.” He reached up and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead. “Just go with it.”

WE WALKED into the bar hand in hand. When a hundred pairs of eyes turned to look at us, closing the gap was no longer an issue.

The thought of Mica showing PDA in front of his friends? Terrifying.

The thought of facing all his friends without Mica by my side? A thousand times more terrifying. My other hand wrapped around his big forearm, and I leaned against him as we faced the cheers and the clapping as a couple.

The first ten minutes of the party were a nightmare. Complete strangers overwhelmed me with their hugs and excited congratulations. Each time I got hugged, I got separated from Mica. And each time we got pulled apart, he found my hand and yanked me towards him, so I could once again glue myself to his side.

Someone placed a drink in my hand, and I did what Krista told me to do. I closed the gap so hard, there was always part of us touching. He either held my hand, had his arm around my shoulder, or I wrapped my hands around his big forearm and leaned against him.

I met players, their wives, trainers and a constant stream of friends. Most of the people had a long-standing friendship with Mica. So when they came over to talk to us, they greeted me, congratulated me and then talked mainly to Mica. So I did what Krista told me to do. I plastered a smile on my face and stared up at him like he was a lifeline and I was the raft.

He talked, laughed, and frequently looked down at me until I blushed.

Those brief moments felt like a private reprieve from the surrounding chaos. When he held my gaze before dropping his eyes to my mouth, it felt like the entire bar faded away. My eyes clung to his face, allowing myself to drink in the essence of him.

Two long years of avoiding him, ducking eye contact and pretending I didn’t notice him, and now, I had full license to study him. I took in his sharp angular cheekbones and his straight nose. I stared into his blue eyes that were decorated with thick black lashes. And that mouth. I could not get enough of looking at his mouth. I drank in all of him until I was drunk on his beauty.

A clanging echoed through the bar, and everyone fell silent.

“Mica and Charlie,” Mark Ashford said from the front. “Will you do me the honor of joining me up front?”

Mica took my hand and led me up to the front to stand beside Mark.

Mark Ashford began his speech. “I’ve known Mica since the day he got off the plane from Russia. I’d like to say he was just a kid, but even at 19, he was built like an ox and had one of the fiercest competitive natures I’ve seen in a hockey player.”

The crowd laughed.

“He’s been an integral part of our hockey family for seven years, and he’s been like a wild son to me. I’ve tried to tame him, but I had to concede that Mica is untamable.”

More laughter.

“But that is what makes him such a phenomenal player. He’s got a wild side, and that fierce energy helps us win games and strikes terror in all our opponents’ hearts.”

The crowd cheered.

He looked over at us. “But I won’t lie, the fact that he’s married and settling down makes me not only relieved and proud, but it also makes me immensely happy that he’s found love. And now, I’m honored to invite his young wife, Charlie, into our family fold.” He lifted his glass to me. “To Charlie. For taming this wolf when no one else could.”

The crowd raised their glasses, cheered and stamped their feet in approval, before someone from the back yelled, “Kiss.”

Someone else echoed that request. “Kiss your wife, Petrov.”

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss, the drunk crowd chanted.

Mica turned and looked down at me. I tried but couldn’t read what he was thinking. I felt his big hands gently hold my neck, tilting my chin up towards him. Our eyes met as he lowered his mouth to mine.

Oh my God. Mica was about to kiss me.

At first, it was a chaste kiss. Lips only. My eyes fluttered shut as his warm mouth moved against mine. It tasted of beer and drowned out the wild cheers. I clutched his forearms, reveling in the sensation of his mouth moving against mine. He lifted his mouth and my eyes fluttered open.

“You taste so good,” he growled.

He spun me around, so his back was to the crowd, sheltering me from everyone. I was dimly aware of the growing, deafening cheers. One of his arms snaked around my back, yanking me hard against him, holding me tight while his mouth came down again on mine. This was no chaste kiss. This was Mica-style passion that short-circuited my brain. His kiss was pure lust, hot temptation and a wicked promise of what he wanted to do to me.

When he lifted his mouth off of mine, he still held me tight against his body. I was breathing hard, and my libido had skyrocketed to the point of self-combustion.

And then he smiled, one of those fucking fabulous smiles that changed his face. It was at that moment that I knew I was officially in over my head.

The drunk guests were still cheering at a deafening decibel. He stepped beside me and lifted my left hand to kiss my ringed finger for the entire room to see. Then he put his arm around my waist and tugged me hard against him.

Speech. Speech. Speech.

He grinned out at everyone, and instantly the room grew quiet. Everyone, including me, waited with bated breath for what he would say.

His accent was strong, but his voice was clear. “Everyone who knows me knows that I was against marriage. When I met Charlie at Krista’s office, she was the only woman who didn’t care that I was a hockey player. She gave me shit almost every time I saw her, and I usually deserved it.”

The crowd laughed.

“But one day, she seemed different to me. And that was the start of the end. I resisted how I felt, but I couldn’t stay away. And she accepted me and the fact that marriage was not something I wanted.”

The crowd fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“But in the end, I was the one who wanted to marry. I wanted to learn to be the husband Charlie deserves. And I needed to make her mine. And, lucky for me, she said yes.”

Everyone roared.

“Thank you for celebrating with us. It means the world to both of us.”

It was all lies, but some irrational part of me wanted it to be the truth. How different would my life be if this was my fairy tale?

He ducked down and planted another hot kiss on my mouth. I couldn’t stop my moan, and he lifted his head, his eyes dark with lust.

“Jesus,” he breathed.

After that, we moved through the party as one. Mica constantly had his arms around me, holding me tight. Sometimes he stood behind me, sometimes he tucked me under his arm and I snuggled against him, but we were always touching. The more beer he drank, the more affectionate he became. Pushing my hair off my face, dropping hot, quick kisses on my mouth. When we sat to talk to someone, he pulled me onto his lap and cradled me in his arms.

It felt like the slowest, most intense foreplay of my life. I smiled and pretended to listen, and somehow, I took part in most conversations, but all I was aware of was how he was touching me and where his hands were. And I was beginning to live for his kisses.

They say you should never believe your own hype, but I was falling under his spell, and just like everyone else in the room, I was believing his actions as truth. It felt too real, too intense, to be anything but.

THE PARTY ROARED ON, and I needed a break. I slipped away to use the washrooms across the lobby. I needed to clear my head and find some balance.

I stood in front of the vanity mirror and took in my flushed face and lips that looked bee-stung from Mica’s kisses.

His kisses are not real. Tonight is pretend.

A voice spoke from behind me. “So, you think you’re something special.”

I lifted my eyes to see a tall, gorgeous redhead who wore a bright green jumpsuit. “Are you talking to me?”

She moved forward to stand beside me. “You may have married Mica, but three days ago, his hard cock was in my mouth. And trust me, he’ll be back. Our chemistry was explosive.”

Her words felt like knives on my skin, slicing me.

A tiny, blonde chick moved between us and faced Mica’s ex. “You need to take your trashy mouth and your even trashier jumpsuit out of here before I kick your ass.”

I seriously doubted that the tiny pixie could kick anyone’s ass, but the redhead didn’t share my sentiments. She threw one more dirty look my way before tossing her head and disappearing.

The blonde chick turned to me, eyeing me critically. “You okay?”

She looked familiar. I vaguely remembered her coming in to help interview PAs with Ryan Parker. “Are you Zoey?”

“I am.”

“You look different.”

“I changed my hair. It used to be black.”

“You’re with Ryan Parker.”

She smiled an impish smile at me. “Mica is one of our best friends.”

Mica had best friends. People I never knew. Again, I was reminded that I knew next to nothing about my husband.

She checked to make sure the room was empty before she added, “Mica told me everything.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Everything?”

“I can’t believe what you’re doing for Mica. You’re really helping him. Don’t let the angry puck bunnies sink their claws into you. Women have been trying to tie down Mica since the day I met him, and no one can believe you did the impossible. They are just jealous.”

“If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t have anything to be jealous of.”

She smiled a cute smile that made her look adorable. “I’ve never seen Mica act like he’s acting tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy hates PDA.”

I frowned. “No, he doesn’t. He told me he’s an affectionate guy.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

I thought about what he told me. “He told me that everyone would expect him to be demonstrative.”

She giggled. “That’s what he told you?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, amused. “I don’t know how he acts when he’s alone, but in public, he was extremely private about that kind of stuff. I saw him hold hands, but it was usually against his will.”

This conversation wasn’t making any sense. The guy had told me he liked to display affection. And he had proved that tonight. He hadn’t let go of me or stopped touching me for the last three hours.

“Are we talking about Mica Petrov?”

She smirked. “Yup. So, you want to hang out at the next game? I go to all the home games, but I can’t stand the WAG box.”

I didn’t quite know if I should infringe on Mica’s personal friendships. “Are you doing this because Mica asked you?”

“I’m doing this because I want front-row seats for the show.”

I had no idea what that meant, but I also didn’t relish sitting alone for a season of home games by myself. An offer of friendship from someone who knew Mica and knew this situation felt like a gift. “I’d love to.”

“You okay?”

“I’m good. I just need a couple more moments.”

She started to head towards the door. “I’ll text you before the next game.”

And then she disappeared from view.

I couldn’t process tonight. The way Mica was treating me felt like a dream. I shut my eyes, remembering the touch of his hand around my waist, the way he had brushed hair from my eyes and stared into my eyes before dropping a lingering kiss on my mouth. It was intoxicating to be the center of his affection. Maybe this wasn’t an act? Maybe this chemistry was real? All I knew was that I wanted to get back to the party and let him tuck me under his arm.

I stepped out of the washroom and started to walk across the lobby.

Mica stood off to the side, in an intense conversation with the redhead. They were standing too close, and she had one hand on his arm and another one on his chest. They looked like a couple engaged in an intense, passionate conversation.

Three days ago, his hard cock was in my mouth. And trust me, he’ll be back.

My eyes met his across the lobby.

So, this was it. It had all been an act. The guy lasted one day of marriage and he was already engaging with one of his old flames. He had promised he wouldn’t cheat on me, and I hadn’t entirely believed he’d be able to keep that promise, but it was a low blow to realize he couldn’t even make it through our party before making overtures to step out on me.

I felt stupid. I had fallen for his charms tonight, forgetting that it was all just an act. Part of me had believed in those hot kisses he had pressed on my mouth. My shame came from opening myself up to him. I had felt real things tonight, and I felt shocked to understand it meant nothing to him.

I faltered before turning and walking towards the front doors. I had no idea where I was going. I only knew I needed to escape.