Hockey Holidays Read online

  Kitty explained what the doctor said.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. I’m sure you two can work something out.”

  “You don’t know Harry. He’s so proud. He wants to be the breadwinner, the man, you know?”

  “Oh, yes, I do. Your father’s the same way. Still, if he can’t do that, then you two must find something else.”

  “If he keeps playing, he might get hurt again. Worse this time,” Kitty said, biting her lip.

  “Let me think, talk to your father. I’ll call you back tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  Kitty hit the shower and got dressed. The gallery didn’t open until noon, but she had a ton of things to do. Harry’d be coming down and they’d be together. This trip, she’d go to his game. She needed to see him in action. After all, it might be his last time. She shivered at the thought, picked up her briefcase and headed for the street.

  As she walked, she stopped to watch Macy’s eye-catching Christmas window displays. Christmas shopping! That would brighten her mood. This year, she’d be buying Harry gifts with her own money, bucks she’d made at the gallery. A smile spread across her face. Maybe it was time Harry got used to her carrying more of the load.

  The store boasted garlands with shiny silver and blue balls, Christmas trees decorated in gold and red ornaments, or Christmas plaid. Each department showcased a different tree color combination. Kitty made a note to buy a tree and two wreaths for the house in West Hartford. She’d make the purchase online and have the decorations shipped.

  She stopped first in menswear. Harry needed new shirts. Maybe flannel this year. If he didn’t have to dress in suits and ties anymore, he didn’t need more dress shirts. The image of her tall man in a plaid flannel shirt gave her gooseflesh. Her fingers tingled as she imagined pressing them against his chest, strong under the soft cotton.

  Perhaps there would be some perks to his not playing hockey? For example, days spent in bed, talking about what he should do next. A shiver ran up her spine, bringing heat to other places.

  “Can I help you?” asked a salesman.

  “Yes. Flannel shirts, extra-large?”

  “Right this way.”

  Kitty perused the selection.

  “I’ll take the red plaid. He has dark hair and eyes.”

  “Good choice. Black Watch goes with all coloring,” the salesman said.

  “Oh, yes. I like that one. I’ll take it, too.”

  “Wrap as a gift?”

  “Please. Christmas paper?”

  “Of course. Anything else?”

  “Bathrobes?”

  “Right his way.”

  Kitty hummed Jingle Bells as she followed the man. If she couldn’t fix what was wrong with Harry, at least she could buy him gifts to let him know she’d been thinking of him. Love swelled in her heart as she made her way through the store, racking up a bill of more than five hundred dollars. Nothing was too good for her man.

  The salesman took the items and sent them to be shipped. They’d arrive before Kitty. Perfect. She sighed. This Christmas had to be special. Who knew where they’d be next year?

  Chapter Two

  The way his sweat glands worked overtime, you’d think he faced the last game in the Stanley Cup playoffs. Deke had faked his way through morning skate, again. Not that he’d fooled the trainers or his coach. He noticed their narrowed eyes following him as he sprinted across the ice. After half an hour, he huffed and puffed, bent over in a corner to catch his breath.

  He couldn’t continue to stall or say he needed a few more weeks. The Huskies were losing. They needed Deke in top form now.

  “You’re starting in D.C.,” Coach had said a week ago.

  It was do or die time. Deke stocked up on inhalers and prayers. Harry “Deke” Edwards was all about pro hockey. He figured with Kitty’s success with her gallery, she’d probably dump him if he got put out to pasture. He’d have nothing. The thought kicked up his heart rate.

  He packed with care, bringing his new aftershave, Secret Desire. His secret desire had nothing to do with sex. Every night he prayed his windpipe would stretch by fifteen percent. Still, the cologne smelled great. Kitty’d notice he’d switched brands.

  Kitty! His mind turned to his luscious wife. God, he could hardly wait to get her alone. He needed sex, love, and laughter—and she’d supply all three. He sat back in his comfortable seat on the private Husky jet and closed his eyes. Sleep would wipe away his concerns, as long as he didn’t have that nightmare. Fuck. If that horrible dream returned while he was asleep in the air, he’d be humiliated. Still, exhaustion prevailed, and his eyes drifted shut.

  Next thing he knew, the plane touched down. They boarded a bus to the posh hotel in Washington, down the block from the Capital One Arena. The men piled out. Deke texted the address to Kitty and lugged his small duffle into the lobby. His phone dinged as he rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. His wife would be there in half an hour.

  On the road, the team met for dinner, then they had the evening to themselves. The married players with spouses bunking in didn’t have to attend. They were on their own. In his room, Deke dumped his bag on a stand, grabbed the hotel’s menu and stretched out on the bed.

  Steak, prime rib, baked stuffed shrimp—the selections made his mouth water. After making love, they could head downstairs for a great meal, then spend the rest of the evening in bed. Deke wouldn’t tell Kitty about his trip to the lawyer’s office. She’d find out soon enough. He wanted as much time with her as he could get before her love turned to hate. Isn’t that what happened during divorce? Didn’t couples who once couldn’t get enough of each other wish they had a license to kill? He’d read about it on the Internet. He’d never hate Kitty, no matter what she did. Someday, she’d understand he did it for her.

  Tomorrow’s game was do or die. He had to perform. Maybe not up to his old standard, but close. The team counted on him. Deke drew out the five inhalers he’d packed. He kissed each one.

  “Make it happen,” he said, before stuffing them away so Kitty wouldn’t see.

  Not telling her about his breathing problem or his conversation with the doctor meant she’d still love him, think of him as her hero. How could he admit that he wasn’t the man he used to be? Sure, she’d profess her love anyway, and all that shit, but their relationship would never be the same. Deke wouldn’t be the invincible guy she’d married, the man who could defeat any forward, solve any problem, and keep her screaming in the sack.

  She hadn’t signed up to be hitched to a thirty-three-year-old has-been. He had to come across on the ice. He showered, shaved, slapped on Secret Desire, and checked his watch. A knock on the door brought a smile to his face. Right on time! He opened it, and his wife stepped in. She wore a stunning, forest green, wrap-around wool coat.

  She leaned back against the door and slowly pulled on the sash. The garment fell away, revealing her slender body clad only in thigh-high black stockings, black bikini panties, and a lace teddy.

  “Ho, ho, ho, Harry. Merry Christmas.”

  He laughed and pulled her into his arms.

  Lying next to his wife, he asked, “It’s seven. Dinner?”

  “Just a few more minutes?”

  She snuggled her naked self into his body, snaking her arms around his middle, resting her cheek on his hairy chest. She took a deep breath. His masculine scent mixed with that new cologne pleased her. She kissed his chest. “That was great.”

  “You’re amazing, Kitty. I swear you have the heart of a hooker.”

  “A hooker?” She bolted upright.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that you know how to please a guy, to do it right.”

  “Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And what do you know about how a hooker has sex?”

  His face reddened. “I was young. Only once. The guys. You know. Initiation, sort of.”

  “Oh, I see. Better have been before you met me.”’

  “Before? Oh, way before,