I hadn’t been paying enough attention because I was too wrapped up in the past and the worry of being hurtagain, being played the foolagain.
Stol heaved a sigh. “I know I shouldn’t get involved, but Maxim never asks for anything—ever. And he asked us for advice, which tells me how serious he is about making this thing between you work.”
Stol didn’t say the most important part of our conversation: If I couldn’t accept that he did care for me and put in the work to leave that one moment in our relationship behind, I needed to be really clear about that and get out of his life.
Chapter23
Maxim
Ishoved my face into the shower spray, trying to find serenity. The rush of water over my ears must have muffled the sound of Ida Jane stepping into the bathroom, stripping, and entering the shower.
I started at her hand on my back. I pulled away, gasping for air, dots flitting in front of my eyes. “I’m not in the mood, Fists.”
“Well, I am.” Her hand slid down my back, her nails scratching lightly before she palmed my buttocks and then dragged her hands to my thighs. I groaned, my cock jumping to attention even as I slammed my fist against the shower wall.
“I’m trying to do right by you—”
“You have, you do. I… I’m sorry, Maxim. This distance between us is on me. I was trying to protect myself.”
I whirled, a snarl on my face. Her hands fell from my skin, and I mourned their loss. “Fromme. Because you can’t forgive me for the dumb fucking mistakes in my youth, and for going to threaten Dillon.”
I slid my palm down her cheek to her nape—a place that seemed to comfort her.
“Yes.” She pressed her lips together and cleared her throat. After a tense moment, she met my eyes. “Did you hear what Dillon wanted from me that night you and I met?”
I scowled deeper. “Some of it. I know he wanted you to baby-mama his kid.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “He said he broke up with me because she was hotter than me. She was better in bed—”
“Don’t ever, and I meanever, mention you having sex with that…that…”
She pressed herself back against my palm. “Since I met you, Maxim, you’re the only man I want.”
“It’s the same for me, krasivaya. Those women in the photos wereyearsago. Long before I knew you existed. It was never about an emotional connection. Not like we have.”
“It was messing with my head because I thought I wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t desirable enough, sexy enough—”
“Fuck, Ida Jane. Jesus,fuck. You are all those things. More.”
“Dillon’s girlfriend brought all that back up.” She tipped her head back, offering me her lips, her throat, her plump tits.
“Do you think there was any other woman in this world I’d marry? Even to keep me from being deported.”
“Yes.” The admission was quiet, almost as if it was ripped from her throat.
This situation was scarier than facing down a two-hundred-fifty-pound D-man flying at me at top speed. The thing about Ida Jane was, I never quite knew how she’d react.
“Well, see, that’s simply not true. I wassoattracted to you when I watched you stand up for yourself. Then, I got to know you. I heard your terrible singing, ate your amazing steak dinner. I’m addicted to your apple butter—and I didn’t even know that was athingbefore you. The way you smell. Your frilly panties. God. I want those on my floor, in my drawer, in my laundry basket, on this sexy ass…”
She yelped when I patted her luscious butt cheek, the water making the sound sharp. She glared and smacked my ass in return.
I loved this feisty little woman. I did. I needed to tell her. The words sat on the tip of my tongue. She looked frightened and determined and so damn beautiful.
“Don’t give up on me. Us,” she whispered. “I don’t want to fight, Maxim. I know the playoffs are important to you, and I’ll do my best to support you through those. Just…just…give let’s get through these next few weeks so that we can focus on what we want afterward. Please.”
The words of love died, ashy and thick in my mouth. Ida Jane’s plan would last mereweekswhereas I was ready to pledge her forever—again. I’d done so the first time at our wedding, but Ida Jane hadn’t realized that yet, and I hadn’t told her.
We had another brutal seven games to play, and if we won that series, then we played for the Stanley Cup. Either way, we finished our season sometime next month, and the training season started again in September. That gave me a little over four months to show her I was the best—the only—man for her. I’d take her somewhere exotic and seduce her with luxury…and my dick. I’d keep her orgasmed out and too drunk on love to consider leaving me.
