The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(58)

“Where’s my mom?”

Oh shit. I had completely forgotten about her and Andrew. “I’m supposed to text them.”

I reluctantly let go of his hand. I didn’t know Yelena’s cell number, so I texted Andrew’s phone.

Me: Mica is fine. Face hurt. Not playing rest of game.

Andrew: Where do you want to meet us?

Me: Can you bring Yelena home? I’ll stay with Mica.

Andrew: Are you sure you want to miss the rest of the game?

I frowned.

Me: I’m taking Mica home.

I put my phone away. “Andrew will drive your mom home for us.”

Mica’s lip flattened slightly at the mention of Andrew’s name. I brought his hand up to my mouth and kissed his knuckles, which elicited a small smile.

“Is my face really that bad?” he asked.

“No, it’s fine,” I lied, glancing up to look at his wound. It looked horrible. “I can barely notice anything.”

The doctor looked over his shoulder at me, a huge grin on his face. “If you want his face back to normal, don’t make me laugh.”





*



Once the doctor finished the stitches, Mica showered and got dressed and by that time, I was more than ready to go. I walked alongside him to his Porsche.

“How’s your head?”

“Other than my frozen face, I feel fine. I’m pissed they wouldn’t let me play the rest of the game.”

I glanced at him. He had a long thin bandage over his cheek, and his eye was swollen shut. “It hurts me to look at you.”

A smile played on his lips. “Were you worried?”

“I cried, didn’t I?”

“Baby Krista showed emotions.”

I started the car and glanced at him. “It was only for show.”

His smile widened. “You’re a pretty convincing actress.”





*



When we got home, I could tell Mica was in pain. He changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and lay in bed with the remote so he could watch the rest of the game. I brought him a cold compress and watched him lay it on his swollen eye.

“Want some food?”

He raised his arm up. “Come cuddle.”

I crawled across the bed and tucked myself under his arm. I sighed as I felt his big arm come around me. This was my version of bliss. Together we watched the rest of the game. Well, he watched. I continued to let my thoughts drift around where we were heading. I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff. If I threw myself off the precipitous point, there was no climbing back up.

When the game was done, he untangled himself from me and sat up.

“What do you need?” I asked anxiously.

“I feel nauseous. I think it’s the pain meds.”

“I think you need to eat.” I wanted to help him. “Let me cook for you. What do you want?”

“I’ll come with you.”

Mica sat at the island while I heated some soup for him.

“So how was dinner?”

I shrugged. “I had a steak.”

“How was dinner with Andrew?” His voice shifted. I knew he disliked Andrew, and I had been doing my best to distance myself from our neighbor. Only because I knew my friendship with him bugged Mica.

I reached down to refill Sniper’s water dish. “It was fine. I ran into Sabrina at the restaurant. She came over to say hello.”

Mica’s good eye looked at me, assessing me. He didn’t ask about her, so I didn’t talk about our encounter. She was the reason I was stressing about where we were going. She had reminded me where Mica had come from before we married.

I let him off the hook by changing the subject. “Your mom was telling me how your dad always came to your games.”

His gaze dropped. “Only when I was little.”

“Does he ever come to Canada to see you?”

“We don’t talk.”

Before I could ask more about that relationship, Yelena flew in the front door and strode up to Mica. Her jeweled hands carefully grabbed Mica’s face so she could look him over better.

“Am I going to live?” His tone was dry.

She lifted her chin. “Yes, but I thought your bride was going to collapse. She was that upset.”

That made him smile.





Chapter 18





MICA





Charlie stood at the bathroom door, a T-shirt hanging down to her thighs, covering the most delectable parts of her. From my place on the bed, I looked at her with interest. She blushed as she crossed the room and climbed in beside me. I wanted to laugh as she primly slid into bed and covered herself to her chin with the blankets.

I rolled over onto my side and lay one hand on her stomach. “Be honest. Is your new Frankenstein husband a turn-off?”

Her eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh good.” I leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her mouth. It hurt my face like hell, but I didn’t care.

“Wait.” She pulled her head back, putting unwanted distance between us. “We should talk.”

Words a man never wants to hear. We should talk.

I nodded and propped my head on my elbow. “So, talk.”