Page 39 of Holding Penalty

“We all have a good day now and then. Nothing to do with being married.” The thought that Noah’s right, that all the time I’ve spent with Piper lately has me playing sharper, doesn’t sit well with me. Especially considering I’ll hardly be seeing her.

“I don’t see myself ever getting married,” Adriano says, leaning against his cubby with a thoughtful look on his face. “I would like to know what honeymoon sex is like, though. It’s a conundrum.”

“Wait a minute,” Hayden interjects. “You didn’t give your wife a real wedding, and you’re not taking her on a honeymoon? What the hell, Nash?”

Guilt twists in my stomach. I must look like a pretty pathetic husband.

“She didn’t want one right now. We’re both busy. We’ll take one after the season.”

We’ll be divorced by the time the season’s over. My lips pull into a frown.

“Hey, Miller!” Our coach, Florian Roy, steps into the locker room entrance. He’s a French-Canadian former player who transitioned to coaching after an injury derailed what was promising to be a legendary career. “Chip wants to see you in his office.”

Chip Rollins, the owner of the Austin Alligators.

“He’s pissed he didn’t get a wedding invitation,” Adriano jokes.

It might be a joke, but I have a bad feeling that our owner randomly calling me to his office must have something to do with me getting married.

Rollins has a reputation for making snap decisions without asking for outside input when it comes to his businesses. In the couple times we’ve talked directly, he’s stressed how much he appreciates me being a stable, reliable veteran compared to the more chaotic younger players on the team like Noah, Hayden, and especially Adriano.

Could he see me randomly getting married without telling anyone, and the whole team only finding out because of a picture posted on social media, as a sign that I’m starting to get up to off-the-ice hijinks, that I’m less stable and reliable and mature than he thought?

I just bought a plot of land here, just remodeled my whole house, and I’m starting to feel settled in. I don’t want to get traded.

I shower and dress quickly, wanting to get this meeting over with, whatever it’s about. I go upstairs to the arena offices, and Chip’s secretary tells me to go right in.

“Nash! Well, congratulations, damn it!” Chip’s wearing a big grin when he pushes up from his chair and rounds his desk to give me a firm handshake. “I’ll just assume my invitation got lost in the mail.”

I fake a laugh. He doesn’t seem upset about it, which is a good thing. “We just wanted something small. Something real small. Obviously. Nothing personal to you or anyone else who wasn’t invited.”

“I’m just glad one of my top players is married. It’s the damnedest thing, every one of my top guys being single. Don’t know if anyone else in the league has got that. Kinda worried me, tell you the truth. A married man is more stable, more serious. Has more sense of ownership when it comes to the things in his life, including his job.”

Sounds like an outdated stereotype to me, but whatever.

“I’ve always been serious about my role on this team, and that’s not going to change.”

“My wife and I are hosting a banquet to benefit cancer research this weekend. As the first player to get married under my ownership, I’d love for you and your wife to be there as my guests.”

It’s my instinct to come up with an excuse to get out of it. This marriage is supposed to be an on-paper thing, after all.

But wouldn’t it look sketchy if we don’t appear together in public at least a couple of times?

“I’ll have to check with her about her schedule, but I think we can make it,” I answer.

I guess today I’m asking my wife out on a date.

18

PIPER

The sweet smell of baked Danish fills my nose when I pull the tray out of the oven.

The dough is buttery and flaky, and the cheese filling has a perfect golden glaze. I won’t be able to resist sneaking one for myself when they cool down.

It’s hard to work at a bakery all day without stuffing yourself. Paradoxically, I think the extra calories I pack away here keep me motivated to not skip any sessions of the fitness classes I’m signed up for. Looking at it that way, sneaking a pastry or two (or three) over the course of a workday is probably good for my health.

Hey, mental gymnastics have always been one of my talents.