Page 143 of Hockey Wife

“Everything good?” he asked when he let her up for air. “You fix it?”

“I did.”

“Course you did.”

“You won.”

“Course I did.” He grinned. “So glad you’re here. Last year when we qualified, I was miserable.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I’d just kissed you in the kitchen and you weren’t quite ready to fall for my charms. Bonus: O’Malley was rubbing it in with his uber-successful love life.”

She sighed. “We were such dummies.”

“A lot of stupid choices needed before the light bulb goes off.”

What about stupid non-choices? Would he be okay with her news? Or would he think of it as another distraction when he needed his focus more than ever? While his shoulder was still holding its own, there was only so long he could stay at this peak level.

“Could we go somewhere private for a sec?”

His face fell. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Just need to run something by you.” Doubts assailed her. She changed tack. “You know something? It can wait.”

But her husband knew better. He was already moving toward the rear of the bar, half-carrying her, her feet hardly touching the ground. “Comin’ through!” Of course they all made room, because that’s what you did when a man like Banks forged a path through any and all obstacles. That’s what he’d done with her.

“Georgia!” Tara tried to give her a hug, but Banks had her all wrapped up.

“Hi! Just got here.”

“Perfect timing. We just opened the champagne.” Tara took a quick look at Banks, then her. “Everything okay?”

“Fine, fine!”

Banks got the attention of the bar’s owner. “Tina, okay if we use the office?”

She waved them through with an eye roll. The Rebels players were known for taking liberties with the staff spaces at this bar, so this was par for the course. “Sure, mi casa and all that.”

“Georgia, you made it!” Ashley kissed her on the cheek, then Mia tried to get in on the action.

“I just need a sec and then I’ll be?—”

Banks had been waiting semi-patiently during the greetings of the WAG squad before deciding patience was overrated as he removed her mid-sentence.

Once in the office, he took a seat in a large swivel chair, pulled her into his lap, and got her settled. “What’s up, Peaches?”

Here goes. “So, this is probably the worst timing but … I’m pregnant.”

No expression change. Still her gloriously glowering Banks.

“Uh, say something?”

“Should’ve known.”

“What? Why?”

He grimaced. “Baby, you’ve stopped drinking coffee?—”