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

I WOKE UP SUNDAY MORNING, alone. This time, Mica hadn’t bothered to leave a note. I wondered if he was avoiding me after last night’s embarrassing conversation about my lingerie. It had been obvious that I had piqued his curiosity but then he had informed me we would never cross that line. Considering the long line of gorgeous puck bunnies he had dated, I was fairly certain that I had been only a fleeting consideration before being punted back into the rejection pile.

I went from having no time in my life to having all the time in the world. Last night, I had called my bar job and quit without giving notice. When my manager heard that my place had burned down, he understood completely and told me that if I ever wanted to work there again, he’d hire me on the spot.

Without a car or money, I had little to do other than watch TV, organize my new bedroom and hang out.

I was bored stiff.

Krista: I just noticed you called on Friday night. Everything okay?

I didn’t even try to explain everything by text. I would tell her in person the next time I saw her.

Me: Yes.

Krista: I’ve booked your wedding at city hall for tomorrow at noon. Don’t bother coming to work. I will meet you and Mica there.

Holy shit. For the hundredth time, I debated if I was making the biggest mistake of my life. The two days I had been living here had proved to be both awkward and uncomfortable for both of us. And I wasn’t sure it would get better.

Me: Does Mica know?

Krista: I texted him.

She had been in contact with him, probably not aware I was already living with him. I chewed on my lip before responding.

Me: What did he say?

Krista: He said he’d be there. Wear something nice. I will be taking photos to post on social media.

Me: Okay.

Krista: See you tomorrow!

RESTLESS ENERGY and a certain amount of anxiety over tomorrow pushed me outside for a walk. I walked along the wide sidewalk along Point Grey Road, taking in the astonishingly big houses that lined the cliff that had a killer view of English Bay.

I paused in a small park to take in the stunning view, when something cold and wet pushed into my hand. Looking down, I saw a happy-looking golden retriever.

“Oh, aren’t you darling?” I crouched down to get eye level with the dog, rubbing its soft ears while the dog gave me a panting smile.

“I see you’ve met Sandy,” a male voice said from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see a tall, striking man. He had black-framed glasses, thick salt-and-pepper hair and a kind smile. I pegged him to be in his mid-thirties. He smiled down at me.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She’s the most social of the two. Henry is more the explorer.” He nodded towards a second golden retriever that was walking along the park, his nose in the grass, intent on smelling something.

I pushed to stand up. “I love dogs.”

Sandy buried her nose into my hand again, asking for more. I laughed and bent over her to place a kiss on her face. “She’s gorgeous.”

I noticed that more people started to gather around the park with their dogs. “Wow, seems like everyone has a dog.”

“We’re part of a dog-walking group. Our group meets daily to walk down to the off-leash park.”

I patted Sandy one last time on her head. “That sounds like fun. I wish I had a dog.”

He shrugged. “You can borrow Sandy, if you want to join us.”

I didn’t quite know what to make of that offer.

He added, “We don’t bite.”

The thought of heading back home to Mica’s empty house depressed me. “Okay, thanks.”

“My name is Andrew.”

“Charlie.”

He put Sandy on a leash for me and together we started walking with the group. He was true to his word. I walked beside him, listening to him chat with another dog owner. He didn’t pepper me with questions, but he included me in the conversation by occasionally smiling at me.

At the dog park, he gave me a ball, and Sandy and I played a game of catch. I threw the ball a dozen times, loving how she raced after that ball with complete abandon every time, never tiring of the game.

“She can do that all day long,” Andrew said beside me. “And you just became her new best friend.”

I laughed and threw the ball hard. “Did I mention that I love dogs?”

“Well, she loves you. Have you ever had a dog?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never had the time. I think a dog needs a lot of time and commitment.”

“Well, you are welcome to join our group any time. We are a motley group, but we stick together. When Jenn, one of our group members, broke her leg last year, there was someone from our group who picked up her dog twice a day for a walk. We look out for each other.”

“That’s amazing.”

“This group has become one of my most important groups of friends.” He smiled down at me. “And we are always open to new friends.”

I flushed under his scrutiny. “It’d be weird to join a walking group without a dog.”

“You’ve got an open invitation to walk Sandy whenever you want. I’m all about dog sharing.” He whistled at the dogs and yelled, “Come on, guys. Time to head home.”

Sandy, panting hard, trotted towards me, allowing me to clip the leash back on her harness. Together we started walking back in the direction we came.

“So, are you new to the neighborhood?”

I blinked, not sure quite how much I wanted to tell him.

He smiled down at me. “Sorry, I spend way too much time with my dogs. My people skills are rusty.”

“That’s okay.” I worked to direct the conversation away from me. “Have you lived in this neighborhood long?”

“About five years. My wife inherited a house on this street when her grandmother passed away. Otherwise, there is no way I could afford to live here.”

“Oh. It’s a beautiful neighborhood.”

“My wife loved it here.”

The past tense of the word love dropped like a rock into the conversation. I gave him a questioning glance but didn’t ask.

He winced. “She passed away 18 months ago. To cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“No, I’m sorry. You know, it’s a total conversation killer when I bring up the dead wife.”

His dark humor pulled shocked laughter out of me.

His tone became more serious. “I loved her. With all my heart. She was everything to me and when she left me, I didn’t think I would recover. But now, as much as I love her, I just want to get past that. When you are widowed, it becomes part of your identity, and frankly, I’m tired of it. Tired of the pitying looks and tired of feeling sad.”

I thought about my mom and how I felt when she passed away. “I get it. I felt the same way when my mom died.”

“Right? You mourn. You feel awful, more awful than you’ve ever felt, but then one day, you get damn sick of your own pain.”

I wasn’t used to having a man share so openly with me. “So, are you getting past it?”

He thought about that question. “Sort of. I’m focusing on doing things that make me happy. My wife was one of the happiest people I knew, and the best way I know to honor her life is to find my happiness again.”

“That’s nice.”

He glanced down at me. “Enough about me. Tell me about you.”

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out what I should share. “I work at a sports agency. My boss is actually the agent. I’m her assistant.”

He clutched his heart. “I love sports. I am a hockey addict. Tell me she deals with hockey players.”

I gave a wry smile. “We have professional hockey clients.”

“What? You’re officially the most famous person I know.”

“Hardly. Working in the agency, you quickly realize that everyone is human.”

“Don’t spoil the fantasy,” he chided. “In my mind, professional athletes are the closest we have to gods walking on this earth.”

I rolled my eyes. “I assure you that is not the case. Besides, I don’t love sports.”

He stopped walking. “I’m not sure we can be friends.”

I laughed.

He added, “How can you work in a sports agency and not love sports?”

“I don’t need to love sports to do my job.”

“I heard a rumor that there is a professional athlete that lives on this street. A hockey player. I still haven’t figured out which house or which player, but I’m on it.”

We were approaching Mica’s house when he drove his Porsche into the driveway right before us.

“Holy shit, do you know who that is?” Andrew stopped walking and watched in awe as Mica got out of his car.

Mica turned his head, caught sight of me and paused.

I tried to think of how to tell Andrew that Mica was my soon-to-be husband, but Andrew didn’t give me a chance.

Andrew ducked his head towards my ear, speaking excitedly. “That is Mica Petrov! He’s the greatest defenseman in the league. Yes, I’m biased, but he’s a phenomenal player. I heard he got suspended, but no one knows why.”

Mica’s eyes narrowed on us.

Go in the house, Mica. Just go in the house.

Instead, he moved down the driveway towards us, and the look on his face told me he wasn’t impressed.

“Oh my God, he’s coming to talk to us.” Andrew continued to speak in a low, excited tone. “Do you think I should ask him for his autograph?”

Mica stopped before us and looked between the two of us. He didn’t look remotely neighborly. He looked ornery as fuck.

“Hi.” My stupid voice sounded nervous. Which implied guilt. Even though I had nothing to feel guilty about.

Without missing a beat, Andrew turned back to Mica, a massive smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Andrew. I live a couple doors up. I’m such a huge fan. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Mica’s expression didn’t budge an inch.

Andrew didn’t seem to notice or care. “And this is Charlie. She works at a sports agency. Or so she tells me.”

Mica’s gaze flicked back to me. His expression hardened. “Charlie is my fiancée.”

Fiancée. That word did not sound right coming out of his mouth. He actually managed to make it sound like a swear word.

A long pause ensued before Andrew recovered. Shock marred his face as he turned to me, almost accusing. “You never told me you were engaged!”

Andrew couldn’t have made this situation worse if he tried.

My laugh sounded forced. “Well, we didn’t really have time to share that much.”

He nodded and said with sincerity, “Well, hopefully, that will change. I meant what I said. You’re invited out to walk with us any night of the week.”

I needed to end this conversation. I bent over Sandy, loving how she lifted her face to mine. I gave her furry face a good rub and said, “Be a good girl.”

Mica stood, waiting.

“Thanks, Andrew.” I glanced over my shoulder. Mica, without saying a word to Andrew, followed behind me up the driveway.

Mica opened the door and then held it for me. I kicked off my shoes and decided that this was one of those moments when Mica could use some alone time. I started to make a beeline towards my bedroom, but his voice behind me stopped me cold.

“Who was the guy?”

I spun around, working to be casual. “I went for a walk and met his dog first. He invited me to join the neighborhood dog-walking group.”

Mica sounded calm. “You don’t have a dog.”

“He let me borrow his.”

Mica moved farther into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as if to settle in to have a conversation about this. “You didn’t tell him you were engaged.”

“I didn’t want to get into it.”

“Why’s that?”

His voice remained so calm and rational, so I didn’t understand why I felt so rattled.

“Does it matter if some random person walking down the street knows that I am engaged or not?”

“It matters.”

he was making me feel guilty for something I didn’t do. “It seemed like a lot of information to volunteer to a complete stranger.”

He didn’t move but continued to study me. “He invited you to walk with him again.”

Why did I feel so nervous? “Him and a group of twenty other dog walkers. It wasn’t just him.”

Mica’s tone was even and emotionless, but he was throwing me with his intense blue stare and crossed arms.

I worked to change the conversation. “So, uh, where did you go?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. With deliberation, he placed it on the island in front of me. My eyes dropped to the signature eggshell-turquoise ring box.

Holy shit.

“That’s for you.”

I didn’t move a muscle. “Thanks.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

Did I have a choice? I stepped forward and, with trembling fingers, opened the lid. Nestled in white satin was the most gorgeous engagement ring I think I’d ever seen. It was a solitary emerald-cut diamond with a slender platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds. The whole thing sparkled and glittered in the light.

“You bought me an engagement ring.” I stupidly stated the obvious.

“Of course.”

“I thought we were just going to wear wedding bands.” I was no jewelry expert, but I knew that this engagement ring had cost thousands of dollars. It seemed like an extravagant, unnecessary expense.

“Why would you think that?”

I couldn’t, for the life of me, bring myself to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I lightly touched the large diamond. “It’s stunning.”

“Try it on.”

With shaking fingers, I picked it up, but my numb, fumbling fingers dropped it. In slow motion horror, I watched as it skidded towards him across the marble countertop of the island. He moved fast, catching it in mid-air before it hit the floor.

He looked down at the ring in his hand before asking, “Which hand do you want to wear it on?”

“What?”

“In Russia, we wear our marriage rings on the right hand, but I know in America, you prefer the left hand.”

“I guess my left hand.”

He motioned for me to give him my hand. I reached across the island and he captured my fingers in his. I watched his face as he slid the ring on my ring finger. His expression was one of intense concentration but otherwise hard to read. With his huge fingers, he twisted the ring on my finger. “Almost a perfect fit.”

I didn’t breathe until he released my fingers. I pulled my hand back and studied the massive diamond. Every way I turned my hand, the diamond caught the light and glittered. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Our eyes met. I didn’t know what to make of his expression. The guy was so hard to read.

I swallowed hard. “Did Krista send you a text about tomorrow?”

“She did.”

“She told me not to come into work tomorrow.” I flushed, wondering why this felt so awkward. When Krista sold me on this crazy idea, she told me it’d be nothing more than a paid acting gig. Now it felt like there was a lot more going on, but I didn’t know how to interpret any of it.

“Can you be ready to leave by eleven?”

I nodded.

He strummed his fingers on the island granite. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”

Did that mean he was leaving again? Being in this place by myself felt lonely. Maybe if I tucked myself in my room and gave him space, he wouldn’t leave.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I turned and disappeared into my room, but moments later, I heard the beep of the alarm and the front door slamming shut.