Bell caught my eye and gave me a small nod.
I walked the six blocks home from the arena, the windows lit up from inside when I turned onto our street. Last year, we’d sold my antique colonial and moved into a modern townhome with a rooftop deck that had a view of the water. I sometimes missed that rickety old house, but I didn’t miss the endless upkeep or the yard work.
I jogged up the steps and let myself in, dropping my bag by the door and following the smell of garlic to the kitchen.
Sebastian was at the stove, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows, his tie off, his jacket draped over the back of a stool. There was a glass of red wine on the counter next to him. He glanced up when he heard me come in, smiling wide.
“Hey! Good game.”
“You watched?”
“I caught the third period.” He turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of a large copper pot. “Rhys’s goal was ridiculous.”
“That he got offmypass,” I said, coming up behind him and setting my chin on his shoulder. “Smells good. Whatcha making?”
“Marry Me Chicken.”
“I’m no chicken, and I already did.”
He snorted, and I kissed his neck. He hummed, tilting his head to the side.
“Tastes good,” I murmured against his skin, my lips lingering on his pulse point. “I missed you.”
Sebastian had been down in D.C. all week, while I’d been on a roadie the week before that. We hadn’t seen each other in twelve days.
“Missed you, too,” he said, setting the spoon down and leaning back against me. “Thankfully, I don’t have to head back for another two weeks.”
“Mmm,” I hummed, imagining all of the ways I wanted to spend that time.
The Marauders had a run of home games leading into the All-Star break, so I wouldn’t be traveling again for the next ten days.
I couldn’t wait to make up for lost time.
“Down boy,” Sebastian chuckled when my cock started to swell against him.
“But he missed you,” I sing-songed, flexing my hips and then backing away just in time to avoid his swat.
“Go sit down. Dinner’s ready.”
I sat at the island and watched him plate up our meal, which I would never get tired of doing. “How’d it go this week?”
He exhaled loudly, turning to me, a plate in each hand. “The bill got out of committee, which is the good news.”
“And the bad news?” I asked, as he set them down on their placemats.
“Rutherford is staging a procedural delay. His district has a forty percent free and reduced lunch participation rate, but he’s grandstanding for an audience of twelve people who’ve never set foot in a public school cafeteria.”
“You’ll get him back,” I said with absolute conviction as he climbed onto the stool next to me.
If anyone could bring that jackass Rutherford to heel, it was my husband.
“Yeah, I’ll get him back,” he agreed, pouring a second glass of wine and sliding it my way.
When Sebastian and I first got together, I didn’t really understand the appeal of wine, but after a honeymoon in France that included a week in Bordeaux, I was a solid convert.
We spent the next twenty minutes talking about my game, the party our friends Harrison and Jeremy were throwing next weekend, and Maya’s drama queen girlfriend.
“Oh,” he said, popping up from his stool. “I almost forgot.” He went to his bag and returned with a folded piece of paper. “Bea wanted me to give you this.”
