The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(28)

Mica sounded calm. “You don’t have a dog.”

“He let me borrow his.”

Mica moved farther into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as if to settle in to have a conversation about this. “You didn’t tell him you were engaged.”

“I didn’t want to get into it.”

“Why’s that?”

His voice remained so calm and rational, so I didn’t understand why I felt so rattled.

“Does it matter if some random person walking down the street knows that I am engaged or not?”

“It matters.”

he was making me feel guilty for something I didn’t do. “It seemed like a lot of information to volunteer to a complete stranger.”

He didn’t move but continued to study me. “He invited you to walk with him again.”

Why did I feel so nervous? “Him and a group of twenty other dog walkers. It wasn’t just him.”

Mica’s tone was even and emotionless, but he was throwing me with his intense blue stare and crossed arms.

I worked to change the conversation. “So, uh, where did you go?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. With deliberation, he placed it on the island in front of me. My eyes dropped to the signature eggshell-turquoise ring box.

Holy shit.

“That’s for you.”

I didn’t move a muscle. “Thanks.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

Did I have a choice? I stepped forward and, with trembling fingers, opened the lid. Nestled in white satin was the most gorgeous engagement ring I think I’d ever seen. It was a solitary emerald-cut diamond with a slender platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds. The whole thing sparkled and glittered in the light.

“You bought me an engagement ring.” I stupidly stated the obvious.

“Of course.”

“I thought we were just going to wear wedding bands.” I was no jewelry expert, but I knew that this engagement ring had cost thousands of dollars. It seemed like an extravagant, unnecessary expense.

“Why would you think that?”

I couldn’t, for the life of me, bring myself to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I lightly touched the large diamond. “It’s stunning.”

“Try it on.”

With shaking fingers, I picked it up, but my numb, fumbling fingers dropped it. In slow motion horror, I watched as it skidded towards him across the marble countertop of the island. He moved fast, catching it in mid-air before it hit the floor.

He looked down at the ring in his hand before asking, “Which hand do you want to wear it on?”

“What?”

“In Russia, we wear our marriage rings on the right hand, but I know in America, you prefer the left hand.”

“I guess my left hand.”

He motioned for me to give him my hand. I reached across the island and he captured my fingers in his. I watched his face as he slid the ring on my ring finger. His expression was one of intense concentration but otherwise hard to read. With his huge fingers, he twisted the ring on my finger. “Almost a perfect fit.”

I didn’t breathe until he released my fingers. I pulled my hand back and studied the massive diamond. Every way I turned my hand, the diamond caught the light and glittered. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Our eyes met. I didn’t know what to make of his expression. The guy was so hard to read.

I swallowed hard. “Did Krista send you a text about tomorrow?”

“She did.”

“She told me not to come into work tomorrow.” I flushed, wondering why this felt so awkward. When Krista sold me on this crazy idea, she told me it’d be nothing more than a paid acting gig. Now it felt like there was a lot more going on, but I didn’t know how to interpret any of it.

“Can you be ready to leave by eleven?”

I nodded.

He strummed his fingers on the island granite. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”

Did that mean he was leaving again? Being in this place by myself felt lonely. Maybe if I tucked myself in my room and gave him space, he wouldn’t leave.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I turned and disappeared into my room, but moments later, I heard the beep of the alarm and the front door slamming shut.





Chapter 10





MICA





I went for a long and hard run, trying to come to terms with the fact that I was getting married at noon today, but every step I took, my thoughts repeated.

I don’t want to get married.

I don’t want to get married.

I tried to organize my thoughts, lose the emotion and see the big picture.

It’s a fake marriage.

So why did this feel so damn real? Why did I feel like I was signing away my goddamn freedom, my happiness, and everything good for the rest of my life? I felt like there was a noose being tied around my neck, and the tighter it got, the more panic I felt.

I knew, on some level, my reaction was over the top. Why couldn’t I be rational about this situation?

Because you’ve seen what marriage can do to two people.

I didn’t want to think about my parents. My entire life had been about avoiding their fate. I had never met two people who made each other more miserable than my parents made each other. When I was a kid, every wish I made was that they would free themselves from the pain and suffering they caused each other. But they never divorced. They never even considered it. I had asked my mom once why she had never divorced my father. She looked at me with blue eyes that matched my own and said, “Because we married for life.”