Page 34 of Her Player

Her face fell. “Rhett, I’m so sorry, I didn’t⁠—”

I shook my head, cutting her off. “You’re okay, Victoria. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Her eyes searched mine. “Did any of your family members play hockey?”

“They were fans, but no one played. My first-ever hockey team was sort of the first time I ever really got a taste of what a family was supposed to feel like.”

“Is that why you work so hard to hold onto your title of captain?”

I grinned. “Why? You watching me work hard or something?”

She clicked her tongue and pushed at my chest playfully. I chuckled as I grabbed her wrist, bringing the palm of her hand to my lips. I kissed her skin delicately, my stare never leaving hers.

I placed her hand on my chest before I drew in a deep breath. “I’m not close with my family. Never have been. Never will be. But this team is my family, and that’s why I’m so dedicated. I show this team the love I hope to show a family of my own some day.”

She sighed, her eyes dancing along my face as if she studied me. She opened her mouth, drawing in a breath, but instead of saying something, she closed her lips.

Did I say something wrong?

“What?” I asked.

Victoria shook her head. “Nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing. You’ve never had an issue voicing your mind, ever. What’s so different about now?”

And when she gave me a defeated shrug, I knew exactly why. I figured I’d get the conversation started for her.

After all, it was clear she’d needed to talk with someone.

“You haven’t been with anyone since your late husband, have you?”

She snickered and pulled her chin away from my grip, but all I did was snatch it back and guide her gaze back to mine.

“Don’t run, it was just a question. I’m worried you’re not comfortable right now,” I said.

“I’m fine,” she said insistently, but she didn’t move away from my grip that time.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing that’s appropriate for right now.”

“And why wouldn’t it be appropriate?”

She snickered. “After what we just did? I’m pretty sure if you rattled on about an ex, I’d punch you in the throat.”

I barked with laughter before I released her chin, allowing my hand to cup her cheek. At that moment, as my hand practically cupped the whole of the side of her face, I realized just how small and fragile she was. Sure, she had curves for days. Yes, she stood damn near six-feet-tall in those impossible six-inch stilettos of hers. But lying here with me? Clad in nothing but a thin sheet of silk?

She seemed impossibly delicate. Like something spun from glass that the world hadn’t figured out was unbreakable yet.

Her laughter only added to that. A delicate sound that, while robust, held a crisp quality to it that told me she didn’t use it often.

I silently vowed to make her laugh every single day for the rest of the days she allowed me to be at her side.

“Then,” I said after our laughter died down, “it’s a good thing I’m the one doing the asking.” I slid my hand into her hair, gripping her tendrils softly as I held her gaze with mine. “What were you going to say, Victoria?”

She swallowed thickly, her voice a bit heavier when she spoke. “You remind me so much of him.”

I blinked. “Your late husband?”