Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
I nod, because she’s right, and I respect that about her. She watches every game we play, and we sometimes see her watching our practices, too.
“Yeah, I’ve always noticed that,” I say, wondering where this conversation is going.
“I’ll cut to the chase.” Her gaze is locked onto mine. “I need to get married so I can avoid deportation.”
I nod, finally seeing what she’s getting at. Mila is respected by everyone on our team, but she keeps a professional distance from all of us. Even Coach Maddox doesn’t socialize with Mila. She had a couch in her office at the old arena where she was known to sleep after working late nights.
“We’ll all be there,” I promise her. “I’ll make sure every player and wife are at your wedding. Anything you need from us. We’ve got your back.”
She laughs nervously. “I was really hoping you’d say that because I definitely need you to be there. At the altar. With me.”
“At the…?”
Oh. Mila’s estranged from her father. She doesn’t have any family here.
“I mean, if you want me to walk you down the aisle, I can,” I offer.
She presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “Colby, I need you to be the groom. I need you to marry me so I can stay in this country.”
A hearty laugh bursts out of me. I don’t just laugh, I laugh hard. It’s one of those laughs that reaches my belly, giving me a cleansing feeling.
“Where are they?” I ask, peeking at the door to see if someone’s standing behind it. “They almost got me that time.”
“What are you talking about? There’s no one in here but us.”
I nod, pointing at her. “There’s a camera, then. Of course, there’s a camera because they planned to watch this one over and over again.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demands, her nervousness replaced by her usual short-tempered demeanor.
“I know this is a prank. Sal owes me one from the time I convinced him I slept with an eighty-one-year-old grandma. And this…” I shake my head, looking around the room for a tiny camera. “This was elaborate. Getting the team owner in on it.”
She narrows her eyes, looking like she wants to fly across the desk and strangle me.
“This isn’t a prank. What, like marrying me could only be a joke?”
I hesitate, my smile sliding away. She could be digging her heels in, determined to convince me this is real. But if she’s not…
“No, you’re beautiful. I didn’t mean it like that.”
It’s the truth. Mila is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. With her long dark hair, caramel-colored eyes, and perfect pink lips, she looks more like a model than the owner of a professional hockey team. But none of us think of her that way. Not just because she dresses in business suits every day, but because she’s so cutthroat. I have no doubt that she’d neuter any man who did her wrong—with a rusty pocketknife if needed.
I just stare at her across the desk, torn between falling for a prank and getting castrated.
“Look.” She turns her laptop around to show me the screen. “Does this look like a prank?”
I lean forward, finding a letter that looks like it’s on government letterhead. According to what I read, her work visa isn’t being renewed and she’s being deported back to Russia.
This is too elaborate to be a prank. My gut churns as I replay myself laughing two minutes ago.
“You’re serious?” I say. It’s half question and half statement.
“It won’t be a real marriage, obviously. But we do need it to look real because apparently there are investigators who will look into it. You are single, right?”
Why the hell was I so averse to relationships? Beau and Ford are protected from this nightmare because of Beau’s wife and Ford’s girlfriend. But good ol’ Colby, the confirmed bachelor? I’m in a chokehold here.
“Yeah,” I admit, knowing it’s pointless to lie to her.
“I promise you I’ll be going into this in good faith. We can set ground rules. I never planned to marry—ever, so I don’t expect romance. I won’t even ask you to sign a prenup. I’ll buy you the vacation home of your dreams as a wedding gift, in your name only.”
I swallow hard, reality setting in. She’s determined to make this happen. I want to bolt, but I can’t. There’s too much on the line.
“I don’t want a vacation home.”
How can I break this to her gently? Excuses fly through my mind. Could I say I’m religiously opposed to marriage? Is there even a religion that opposes marriage?
“My team owner pays me pretty well,” I say, smiling weakly. “I don’t need your money.”
The flicker of vulnerability on her face nearly crushes me. Mila is a proud woman; it has to be hard for her to be begging any man to marry her, even if it would be a fake marriage.