I roll my eyes and feel frustrated for her. “Fine. But give him a piece of your mind after the game. You’re entitled to that.”
“No, Hadley. We’re all entitled to a no-strings night. Now, will you focus on your man who is back on the ice and already intercepted a pass?” She smiles softly.
My attention moves forward to watch the ice where my husband has rejoined the game. “Damn. He has talent,” I comment in awe, because it never gets old, the way he always goes straight back into it.
The game is a win for us, and I find myself waiting outside the press room, staring at a television screen mounted on the wall, watching as reporters ask my husband questions for post-game analysis.
There’s something about Connor slightly flushed from the exercise, mixed with wet hair and a grin, that has my panties melting.
“Look, off the ice, I consider Vaughn Madden a friend. We played together before, and he was at my wedding. On the ice, we’re not always friends, but that also means we can push one another’s boundaries more easily, as the trust is there. It just happened that tonight the Spinners played better, with a tight defense, partly because I wasn’t afraid to go in strong,” Connor speaks into a mic.
Another reporter asks a question that I can only hear a mumble of.
It causes Connor to grin. “Yeah, we have a few days off for Christmas, but I’ll use that to do a mini reset. I don’t want my head out of the game since we are back next week playing, but it is my first Christmas as a married man, so I intend to enjoy that with my wife.”
I love that answer. Even more, I love that it wraps up the round of questions, and Connor is walking straight to the hall to me, with the cameras still following him.
He kisses me real quick while I take my necklace off to return his ring. “Good game,” I congratulate.
“Would have been better if I didn’t get that penalty,” he rumbles a sound.
I massage his shoulder. “Relax, forget about it as soon as we’re out of here. Besides, you have a turkey to roast tomorrow.”
He half-laughs. “Thanks for volunteering us to host.”
“It’s tradition that the newlyweds host,” I counter.
“Since when?” he challenges.
“Mmm, since I made up that rule.” I interlace our arms as we walk toward the players’ parking lot underneath the arena. “Besides, we have a dog at home that would hate to miss out.”
Connor chuckles again. “Sure, we’ll host dinner for twenty because our dog might have hurt feelings.”
I rest my head on Connor’s shoulder as we walk, enjoying our post-game routine. Especially since I know hard and fast sex is coming later.
* * *
Staringdown at the kitchen counter, I give Connor knowing eyes. “See? Christmas dinner is easy as pie.”
He removes more foil with a grin. “That’s because your version of cooking is having your mom do everything and bring it over in tin dishes.”
I splay my hands out. “Delegating is cooking.”
Connor walks a step toward me to pull me close, and his fingers entwine in my hair as he jerks me forward for a kiss. “You’re a genius. Briggs is bringing beer, my mom pie, and our little brothers will be annoying shits as always. Not to mention my aunt and uncle will bring my cute little goddaughter and her persistence to ask one hundred times if a turkey is an animal.” He loves it, he does.
“Sounds wonderful. Isla already brought the wine and is changing out of her yoga pants. I’ll go change too since your hoodie doesn’t feel like festive attire.”
He draws me in for another kiss just as we feel Ace jump at our feet. We both look down, and Connor sighs. “I’ll give him a quick walk and keep him out of the kitchen.”
“Great.”
We both part to head our separate ways, but he tows me back since he doesn’t let go of my hand. “I love you,” he reminds me.
“I love you too.” I blush every time.
A minute later, I’m upstairs on my way to find a sweater dress, but I hear a sniffle. Knowing Isla was using the guest bedroom, I decide to check on her.
“Isla?”
