“Let’s get to the car. I’ll call Lance—my lawyer. Maybe he has a suggestion.”
Once we ensconced in his little Mercedes—a signing bonus from the team, Maxim told me—he dialed his lawyer.
“Hmm,” Lance said. “There’s a three-day waiting period in Texas, so you wouldn’t be able to get married tonight anyway. But your next game is in Nashville, right?”
“Yes, we leave tomorrow,” Maxim said.
“Take your girlfriend—Ida?—and fly there tonight. You can get married first thing in the morning and still make it to your game.”
I blinked, shocked by how matter of fact this man was about my life.
“But…”
“Is that Ida?” Lance asked.
“IdaJane,” Maxim said. “Her name is Ida Jane Barlow.”
“Right. Give me the name of the hotel where you’re staying, and I’ll courier over the prenuptial agreement I drew up for you.” Lance tapped loudly on a keyboard. “You must sign it tonight. It will protect you both. And, IdaJane, Maxim made a point to be very generous with the divorce terms.”
Lance disconnected the call. I shivered, hating that we were discussing divorce in the same breath as marriage. I’d never even expected to get involved with someone who needed a prenup.
This entire situation was surreal. I stared out the front windscreen of the car, shocked to find myself heading to Nashville on a weeknight about to marry a man I’d known for less than a month.
Chapter12
Maxim
Ida Jane remained subdued for the length of the ride to the airportandthe flight to Tennessee. She still wore her work clothes because the next flight left too soon for her go to her apartment or my house to change. We’d barely made it to the gate and were the last people onto the plane.
I kept a packed bag in my trunk just in case something happened and I couldn’t get home to collect my luggage, so I had clothes for the next couple of days.
Once settled in our seats, I grabbed my phone and pulled up one of the fancy services I’d heard Naomi, our goalie Adam’s wife, mention, and contacted a personal shopper. I let her know what Ida Jane would need—basically everything.
By the time we landed and were heading toward the hotel in a rideshare, I could no longer stand the silence between us. But I didn’t want to give the driver any gossip, so I kept my mouth shut and held Ida Jane’s hand, trying to look like a couple in love.
I liked holding her hand. A lot.Because you’re falling for her, dumbass.
That was stupid. So stupid. I knew how love ended for Nadia.
But I couldn’t help how I felt around Ida Jane.
There was something to be said for touch, and before Ida Jane came into my life, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. Few people hugged me since Nadia’s death. That didn’t mean I hadn’t sought out touch—craved it, even—but the women I’d sought out for some sort of connection never stuck around, and I hadn’t wanted them to. I shuddered at the thought of my rookie season in Detroit. I wasn’t proud of all of my choices, and I never wanted Ida Jane to learn about those interactions. That period of my life was best left buried.
We exited the car and were whisked up to the suite I’d booked. We’d be on a different floor from the rest of the team, but this was my pre-wedding night. I had a game tomorrow, on my actual wedding day.
“I know this isn’t ideal timing,” I said to her, suddenly sheepish.
“Nothing about this situation falls under ideal,” she muttered.
I blinked, shocked by the vehemence in her tone. “Are you having second thoughts?” I asked as I opened the door to the suite.
“Of course I am, Maxim. Marriage is a huge deal—an even bigger one in my family.”
The plaintiveness of her expression torpedoed the lustful fantasies I’d been having. I dropped my hand from her arm, my excitement fizzling out completely. Maybe I’d gotten a little ahead of myself with the champagne and roses and chocolates I’d had the hotel send up. I just wanted the trip to feel special.
Instead of commenting on the treats laid out on the table, she walked over and picked up the envelope that had her name on it.
“Lance is definitely efficient,” Ida Jane noted. With a grimace, she opened the flap and pulled out the prenup. Without reading it, she flipped to the last page and grabbed a pen that sat next to the pad on the same desk. Her hand shook as she signed it. “There. All set.”
