Gloves Off: a marriage of convenience hockey romance (Vancouver Storm Book 4)

Volkov’s eyes cut to me in warning.

That feeling rises—I want to fuck with him. This woman is too nice, though, and I can’t upset her. To my utter shock, I actually like her.

Besides, I’m not going to tattle on him to his mommy. That’s not how I play this game.

Oh, and we’re supposed to be happy newlyweds, totally in love.

“This is the one I wanted.” I give her a bright, reassuring smile. “I take my rings off for work so often that I didn’t want to lose it, and a big ring would tear up the latex gloves.”

Her eyes narrow before they drop to my feet, where I’m still wearing my heels from when I got home. I can see her thoughts like they’re written in the air. No woman who wears shoes like those would be happy with a ring like this.

I look to my silent husband. Play the fuck along. “Right, handsome?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “This is the one she wanted.”

“Where’d your dad go?” I ask, changing the subject again.

Maria sips her tea, still looking at my ugly ring. “He’s probably looking at your car.”

“What?” My spine straightens in alarm. “Why?”

“He’s a mechanic.” Volkov gives me a sharp, searching look. “Is that a problem?”

“No, but nothing’s wrong with my car.”

“He just wants to check it,” Maria says, waving me off.

I frown at Volkov, but he shrugs. “Don’t look at me. This is what he does.”

Heavy footsteps sound through the house and Nikita walks into the kitchen. He lights up at the sight of the food but Maria shakes her head.

“You’ve already had dinner,” she says kindly with laughter in her eyes as he stares longingly at the food.

He heads to the sink to wash his hands. “Your spark plugs will foul soon,” he says over his shoulder before looking to his son. “Bring Georgia’s car in when you can and I’ll replace them.”

“I can bring it in,” I cut in. Volkov wouldn’t be caught dead in my car. He’d probably place a brick on the gas pedal and run it off a cliff. “Thank you so much.”

“Nonsense.” Nikita shakes his head. “Alexei will bring it. We can put your winter tires on at the same time.”

“I’ll do it next week.” Volkov shifts, not looking at me.

“It’s fine⁠—”

“I said I’ll do it.” His eyes meet mine, full of challenge.

“Let him, solnyshko. He’s your husband now.” Maria gives me a teasing smile. “Alexei takes care of the people he loves.”

I snort but catch myself, covering it with a cough while my pretend husband glares at me. She must know a different guy named Alexei.

“Okay.” I smile pretty at him. “Thanks, husband.”

“No problem, wife.”

“You can make it up to him in other ways,” Maria says with a cheeky wink, and I choke.

“Yeah, Hellfire. Why don’t you think of some ways you can make it up to me?” He puts his arm over the back of my chair. Even though he isn’t touching me, I can feel the heat from his skin. The challenging spark in his eyes makes my face burn.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Maria laughs. “We were young once, too.”

I make a humming noise of acknowledgment, forcing a smile. Our marriage isn’t anything like theirs, I can guarantee that.

Later, Volkov and I stand at the front windows as his parents pull out of the driveway. We watch as the taillights fade down the street.

“I expected evil troll people, but your parents are actually nice.” Something Maria said pops into my head. “What did she call me? Sol . . . something.”

“Solnyshko.”

“Right. That. What does that mean?”

“Sunshine.”

“Oh.” Warmth washes through me. That’s something my mom would call me or Jordan.

“You can’t get close to them,” Volkov says quietly.

A ping of disappointment hits me right in the heart. “I know.”

“I don’t want them to be disappointed when it ends.”

“I get it.” So why do I feel bummed out? I just met these people, it doesn’t matter.

Another beat of silence. “I’ll take your car tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s not good for me.”

He makes a derisive noise. “Save the shopping spree for the weekend so I can get it over with.”

And like that, my temper snaps. “I’m not going shopping, you dick. I’m working at the hospital.”

His stunned expression is the most satisfaction I’ve experienced in years. “The hospital? You have a job with the team.”

My instinct is to keep details of my life secret and safe from him, but he should probably know for the citizenship interview we might have to do.

“I’m an attending in the orthopedics department, doing research on athlete injury recovery.”

His dark eyes search mine, a frown creasing between his eyebrows.

“That’s why Ward hired me,” I add. “I’m a specialist.”

And I’m not fucking incompetent, I think with a clench of anger.noveldrama

“How many hours a week are you there?”

“I don’t count. If I’m not at the arena, I’m at the hospital, and if I’m not there, I’m at soc—” I cut myself off. I’ve already said too much. He doesn’t need to know about the soccer team. He’d probably make a crack about how I’m indoctrinating them to the Church of Shoes and Shopping.

He’s studying me, and I don’t like it. “So, not shopping.”

“Sometimes I’m shopping.”

He’s still studying me with that unhappy expression. “I’ll pick the car up and return it before your shift is over.”

“No, Volkov, it’s fine.” I let out a light laugh and his gaze slides to my mouth before he looks away, fast. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to do my errands.”

“I’m taking your car in, Doctor. Don’t argue.”

“Okay.” What? “My shift is seven to seven tomorrow.”

He nods once, folding his arms. A beat passes. “What was that the other night?”

Oh god. Nerves fire through me.

If I lie, he’ll think I’m shamelessly trying to get into bed with him. I liked him the whole time, I was forced to tell people about us. What if he thinks I really did? I’d die of mortification.

He’ll think the truth is weird, but he already hates me.

“I sleepwalk.”

A stretch of silence before his eyebrow slides up. “You sleepwalk.”

“Mhm.”

He blinks, eyes cold and hard. “That’s weird.”

Predictable. Just like Liam. I start walking to the library, where I left a few of my things last night, when his voice stops me.

“This isn’t going to be a recurring problem, is it, Doctor?”

God, I fucking hope not. “Don’t flatter yourself, Volkov.”

I’m grabbing my things from the library when a book slides out from between my laptop and my file folder.

Flowers and Their Meanings. The book is old, weathered, and dog-eared, with a broken spine. The pages are yellow with age.

I frown at it. I didn’t put this here.

Earlier tonight, Maria excused herself for a moment before she returned minutes later, wearing a private smile. She must have slipped this into my stuff.

I flip through the old book. Water stains blur some of the illustrations, and I find the copyright page—it’s almost forty years old.

Alexei used to work in my shop after school and on the weekends, she had said. I think about the way she narrowed her eyes at the yellow flowers and the guilty look on his face.

He knows about flowers? His dark, glittering eyes and half smirk replay in my head. If the plant she gave me means good luck in a marriage, what do those flowers mean?

I don’t know what they’re called, but I find an illustration of the flowers, blooms the size of coins.

Blue Tansy—hostile thoughts, declaration of war.

My jaw drops and I laugh out loud. “Unbelievable.”

I didn’t think he had it in him. A tiny spark of respect glows in my chest.

I’m still going to get him back, though. I can’t let him win.

Volkov wants to declare war? Game on.