Cami
“It’s just dinner,” I remind myself as I pace my small apartment waiting for Leif to pick me up. Dinner with your husband.
Ugh, I can’t believe I’m married. I can’t believe Mom thinks it’s the best thing since sliced bread either.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I pause, closing my eyes.
Is it Leif canceling?
Disappointment fills me at the thought, and I let out a sigh of relief. Clearly, I want to go out with Leif tonight. I may not be keen about the marriage part but on some level, I am attracted to Leif and want to explore what’s between us.
See, you can trust yourself. Leif isn’t Levi. He’s not manipulating you. He’s just taking you to dinner.
I glance at my phone.
I snort at her message and shake my head. Before I can reply, my sister texts.
Jesus. But the woman moves quickly.
I giggle at that. What honor? All my family members know the truth about Levi and after everything that happened, I don’t have much to feel proud about.
My doorbell rings and I swear. Exhale. Check my reflection in the mirror hanging over the console in the hallway.
You got this. Everything is fine.
Another message comes through from Jenna.
Considering she bought me both, I text back quickly.
I slide my phone into my purse and pull open the front door.
Leif grins and my heart stutters.
He’s wearing relaxed jeans with rips at the knees and a casual, fitted black Henley with the top button undone. His hair is styled. His sneakers are clean. He’s casual and…sexier than he should be.
“Hey, Knox,” he greets me.
“Leif,” I manage.
He dips down and brushes a kiss over my cheek. “You hungry?”
My stomach twists into nervous knots. “Sure.”
“I thought we could hit up a taco place I think you’ll like. Alberto’s.”
“Sounds good.”
“It’s not fancy. They don’t even take reservations.”
Some of my nerves ease. “Sounds perfect.”
He chuckles. I settle my purse over my shoulder, lock the front door, and follow him to his waiting truck. A black Ford F-150.
For some reason, his truck, a reliable, practical, not flashy brand, relaxes me further. I step up and slide onto the passenger seat.
Leif eases himself behind the steering wheel and turns to look at me. He reaches over the center console and takes my hand, flipping my palm up to run his finger over my inner wrist. Over my tattoo. “Not hiding it anymore.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? I know it was messed up to ignore you. I was just…processing.”
“I know,” he says easily. “And I wasn’t saying that to make you feel guilty. I’m happy you’re showing off the ink. That you’re not ashamed of it.”
“I’m not,” I confirm, holding up my left hand with my purple ring. “I’m not ashamed of this either. I’m just out of my element. I came to Knoxville to start my life on my own terms. Not be someone’s wife.”
Leif nods. “I’m not trying to change you, Cam. In fact, I want to know what your terms are.” He slides his thumb over my skin again before backing out of the parking spot and pulling onto a main road.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re an NHL player?” I ask, changing the subject to focus on him instead of me. I shift in my seat so I can watch his facial expressions.
He sighs, tilting his head back. “Listen, if this is gonna work, we need to be straight with each other, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay. Then, I didn’t tell you because I liked that you seemed into me for me and not because of what I do for a living.”
“I was into you for you,” I toss back.
“Exactly.” He gives me a quick smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “But most women aren’t. It’s because I play hockey or because my family is like some hockey royalty family with all us Bang brothers playing the game. Chances are, if a woman isn’t into me, she’s into one of my brothers.”
“There are six of you?” I ask, remembering Mom mentioning Stella’s six kids.
“Five boys and a girl,” Leif confirms. “We’re all in the NHL except Annie but she was a competitive figure skater for years.”
“Oh,” I breathe out, my memory wandering.
“Dad coaches the juniors now. King’s in Oakland with his girl Rory, Jakob’s in Portland and now shacked up with his former nanny, Gardenia.” I snort. “That woman is a saint for the way she manages and truly loves my twin nephews, Ryder and Rowan. Jensen’s settled down in LA with Bailey Walker—”
“The actress?” I interrupt.
“Yep!” Leif nods.
“She won an Oscar.”
“I know. None of us could believe Jensen convinced Bailey to give him a shot.” He chuckles in a way that lets me know he’s kidding. He must be really close with Jensen, kind of like Jenna and me. “Annie lives in New York City and Tanner’s in Boston, playing for the Bucks.”
“Right,” I mutter. “Now that you’re painting a picture, I remember little things about your family. Mom would chat with Stella every Christmas break, right after receiving a Christmas card that would highlight what you all were up to.”
Leif groans. “Those Christmas cards were always so embarrassing. What were we really up to—besides hockey?”
I chuckle. “My brother played too.”
Leif gives me a questioning look.
“Rhett—”
“Coleman,” he supplies, nodding slowly. “Had a knee injury his sophomore year of college.”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“Remember Mom and Dad talking about it. He never played again.”
“Nope,” I confirm. “To be honest, I don’t think his heart was in it anymore and the injury was the out he needed.” I’d never admitted that to anyone before. And here I am, spilling details of my brother’s life with Leif, a professional NHL player. “We all kind of lost interest in the sport after that.”
Leif chuckles. “Is that why you didn’t recognize me?”
“Hey! To be fair, no one in Vegas did.”
“Ouch.” He slaps a hand over his heart, and I laugh.
“It’s a tough lifestyle. Not for everyone,” Leif says. He pulls into a parking lot and cuts the engine. “You like margaritas?”
“You know I do.”
“Then you’ll like Alberto’s,” he promises.
I slide from his truck and follow him into the Tex Mex restaurant. The moment the door closes and the vibrant colors, warm atmosphere, and delicious scent of food welcomes us, I know Leif is right. I already like Alberto’s.
And I already trust Leif’s judgment. I guess my husband is a better fit than I originally thought.
The margaritas are a good call. They relax me, allowing me to speak my mind freely.
“You think it’s a red flag that we always need alcohol when we’re together?” I ask, holding up my empty margarita glass.
“Probably,” Leif agrees. At least he’s honest.
“Maybe our next date, we’ll stay sober,” I suggest.
“Done.” His smile widens.
“But tonight…” I trail off, taking a sip of my margarita. “I’ll keep the drinks coming.”
Leif snickers.
I don’t add that tonight, a part of me is hoping I end up in his bed again.
But wait, his mom is in town. Does that mean he should stay at my place?
Argh! What is wrong with me? I told Leif I’m not in love with him and don’t want to be a wife, yet…I desperately want to sleep with him again.
This is a confusing disaster in the making.
I suck on the straw to my empty margarita glass and wince when I inhale air.
Leif flags down our server for another round and pops a tortilla chip into his mouth. “You ready to start work on Monday?” He changes the subject.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I mean, it’s not my dream job or anything but it feels good to have a job that will pay the bills.”
He leans closer and I wince at how he could interpret that.
“Not that I need money or anything,” I continue. “I just want to be independent, you know? And I used most of my savings to pay for my move and the new car. Not that it’s new. It’s used. But—”
“Cami.” Leif places a hand over mine. “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m not thinking anything good or bad or judging anything you say. I just want to spend time with you. Get to know you.”
“I’m not good at dating,” I admit.
“I’m not good at relationships,” he shares. “But I want this one with you.”
How the hell does he always know what to say?
Our server appears with our food and fresh margaritas. I relax slightly. We dig into our entrees.
“Do you like living in Tennessee?” I ask.
He nods thoughtfully. “It wasn’t my first choice, but I like the Thunderbolts. My teammates are solid guys, and the management is one of the best I’ve ever experienced. Jeremiah Merrick—”
“Isn’t he in the Hall of Fame?”
“See! You do know your hockey,” Leif beams.
I snort. “Hardly. It’s something Rhett mentioned once.”
“Yes, he’s in the Hall of Fame. He and another former player, Noah Scotch, are the coaches. They’re actually family too. Merrick is Scotch’s father-in-law. They’re tough but fair.”
“That’s good. What was your first choice?”
“Probably California.”
“Because of the surfing?” I guess.
Leif grins. “There’s definitely that. And my brother Jensen plays for the Phantoms in LA.”
“Right. That’s wild that you all play hockey.”
“Yeah, but we’re all scattered. The good thing is we play each other during the season so it’s a built-in time to catch up and grab dinner.”
“That’s cool.”
Leif nods before wrinkling his nose. “Yeah, but I wish I got to see my sister more often.”
“Annie? In…New York City,” I recall.
“Yep. I see her when we play the Bears though.”
“I like that you come from a big family,” I admit.
“I love it, too. The only downside is there’s very little privacy. We’re all up in each other’s business and my mother is the worst repeat offender of all.”
I shrug. “Trust me, I can relate. No one is more meddlesome, or weighs in with more judgments, than my mom.”
“Cheryl does seem intense,” Leif replies, searching my eyes. He places down his burrito and cleans his fingers with a napkin. “I thought she’d push back on our marriage, not embrace it.”
“She worries about me and thinks if I settle down, I won’t be such a wild child.”
“You hardly seem wild. Spontaneous and carefree, sure. But not reckless,” he surmises.
I sigh. Wrinkle my nose. Admit a version of the truth. “I had a relationship, well, a situationship, that turned sour.”
Leif takes a swig of his drink. Clears his throat. His jawline tightens. “Recently?”
“About three years ago.”
“Were you together long?”
I snort. “A handful of weeks.”
Leif rears back in surprise. He clears his throat. “Something must have happened to leave such a big impression. Especially on your mom.” His tone is light. Testing. But his expression is carefully blank. Like he doesn’t want me to know what he’s really thinking.
I stall, taking another pull from my margarita. “It ended badly.” I clear my throat. “My mom doesn’t want me to repeat the same mistakes.”
Leif nods, but continues to watch me. “Were the mistakes life-altering?”
I bite my bottom lip, half wishing he would come right out and ask me what he wants to know and half wishing he would change the subject completely. “They could have been. And the fact that my reputation was salvaged hangs over my head like a massive warning sign, reminding me that sometimes spontaneity is impulsive. And sometimes carefree is reckless.”
Leif taps his fingertips against the ledge of the table. “Is that why you don’t want to be married to me? Do you think we’re more reckless than carefree?”
Shit. I freeze and stare at him. My insides twist and my heart hammers in my temples. I swore to myself that I’d be honest and direct in new relationships. That I would embrace adulting. “I don’t know yet.”
Leif nods. “That’s honest, Cam.”
“That’s all I can give you,” I breathe out.
His arm reaches over the table and his hand settles on mine. My shoulders drop as the warmth of his fingers seeps into my skin. “That’s all I need. If we’re honest, we can make this work.”
I nod and take another sip of my margarita.
But are we supposed to try to make this marriage work? Shouldn’t it be intuitive? Shouldn’t I feel it and know—deep down—that it’s the right call?
As much as I’m enjoying hanging out with Leif, I still can’t imagine an entire lifetime with him. Right now, I’m still trying to process my move to Tennessee, my new job starting on Monday, and the fact that I have a husband.
I’m way out of my wheelhouse and I don’t possess the calm confidence Leif exudes. I like split decisions and the feeling of euphoria.
Right now, this is starting to feel real.
Genuine and serious and stable.
But not baffling and convoluted and claustrophobic like I imagined.
At least I know, deep down, in my heart, that Leif Bang is a good man. He’s a good man who’s trying to be an even better husband.