Defending Your Heart: A Friends to Lovers Hockey Romance (Rules of the Game Book 2) Read online

  Defending Your Heart

  Rules of the Game Book Two

  Emma Tharp

  Defending Your Heart: A Friends to Lovers Hockey Romance (Rules Of The Game Book Two)

  By Emma Tharp

  Copyright © 2019 by Emma Tharp

  For more about this author, please visit www.emmatharp.com

  All characters and events in this Book, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, then please return to amazon.com and purchase an additional copy.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator” at the address below.

  www.emmatharp.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  One

  Alex

  I’d rather be doing almost anything else tonight. But my fiancé keeps encouraging me to be social and hang out with his teammates’ girlfriends and wives.

  It’s not to say that I don’t enjoy Cora or Rose’s company. The few times I’ve been with them, they both seem like lovely women. The issue for me tonight is that I’m beat. Flat out exhausted. I had a full day of treating patients. I’m a pediatrician. A handsome baby boy peed all over my blouse early this morning and most of my remaining patients were screamers and criers.

  With Marcus out of town for a game, I was looking forward to going home for a nice hot bubble bath, followed by lying in bed to finish a new mystery novel I’ve been reading. But, alas, Rose wouldn’t take no for an answer and insisted that I meet them for one drink.

  Rushing in, the girls are seated at a high top close to the bar. It’s a clean, open space inside a new hotel in Nashville. All glass and white furnishings with a few contemporary paintings on the walls, it has a modern feel and fresh atmosphere.

  Seeing me, Rose hops off her barstool—her freshly cut brown bob is perfectly straight and very chic—and comes to greet me with a hug. “Hi, thanks for coming. We have a bottle of sauvignon and an extra glass. Does that work?”

  “Sure. Thank you. Sorry I’m late.” Taking my seat at the table, Cora pours me a glass of wine and hands it to me.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that, Alex? It’s not like you to be,”—Cora looks down at her watch—"Twenty minutes late. But don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re here,” she says. Her features are perfectly symmetrical, comprised of wide eyes, full lips, and long flowing blonde hair, giving her a glamorous, doll-like look.

  “Thank you, ladies, for inviting me. I don’t get out much these days with work being so busy. That’s why I wasn’t on time. I left the office later than I wanted to. Enough about work.” I turn my attention to Rose. “I need to apologize again for the timing of Marcus’s proposal.”

  Rose and Rick are newlyweds. At their wedding last month, Marcus proposed to me. Sure, I was a little embarrassed about the timing and location—since it was Rick and Rose’s day—but Marcus thought that with so much love in the air, it’d be the perfect place. I still haven’t quite gotten over the tackiness of it all. Maybe that’s why I keep telling her that I’m sorry.

  Rose shakes her head. “Alex, it isn’t a big deal. You can let it go now.”

  “Thank you. You’re very gracious.” I’m not sure I could be if the same thing happened to me. I’d like to think I would be, but I’m grateful for her letting this go. “Needless to say, your wedding was stunning and perfect. Your dress couldn’t have fit you better. Now please tell me all about the honeymoon.”

  The corners of Rose’s lips turn up and her green eyes gleam. “Italy was fantastic. If you ladies haven’t been, I’d highly recommend it. Rome was the most beautiful city I’ve ever been to.” She’s glowing in her post-nuptial bliss. I can’t wait for that to be me.

  Playing with the stem of my wine glass, I say, “That sounds fantastic. Marcus and I haven’t picked out a honeymoon location. Maybe we’ll go to Rome.”

  Cora’s expression morphs into a frown. “Alex, you’re one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met. And I realize we don’t know each other that well, but I want us to be friends.” She glances at Rose and back to me. “That’s what makes this so difficult.”

  My stomach does a nose dive to the floor. I don’t like the look on her face or her foreboding tone. “What’s wrong?” I meet her eyes, braced for what’s to come.

  Rose grabs for my hand and lets out a long sigh. “It’s Marcus. He hasn’t been faithful to you. There were rumors flying around about him in the locker room bragging about other women, but those were only rumors.”

  Pulling my hand away from Rose’s, it flies to my mouth. “I don’t believe in rumors. Why would you do this?”

  Cora shakes her head and pulls her phone out of her purse. “We would never hurt you on purpose. It wasn’t until last weekend, when we were all out at Mike Delaney’s party. That’s when we saw it with our own eyes.” She brings up a picture and hands me her cell.

  I hesitantly take it from her. My heart drops and pain surges through my chest. It’s a blurry photo of Marcus kissing another woman; the date is last weekend. Tears prick the back of my eyes. “I thought the get-together at Mike Delaney’s house was just for the team.”

  “No, everyone was invited. I wondered why you weren’t there, but when I saw Marcus with another woman, I thought maybe the two of you had broken up.” Cora tilts her head and gives me a sympathetic stare. “He acted like I was crazy when I asked if the two of you were still together. That’s when he told me things were great between you.”

  “I told him off and called him a jerk to his face,” Rose says, jutting out her chin. “He denied doing anything wrong and told me to keep my mouth shut. That’s when I knew I had to tell you.”

  All the air leaves the room and it’s as if all the sound ceases. All I can hear is the whooshing of my blood in my ears. “How could he?” is all I get out before the tears fall.

  Cora hands me a napkin. “This is awful. We’re so sorry that we had to be the ones to tell you.”

  It’s been two years since I met Marcus. The connection between us was instant and I was immediately smitten. We weren’t together long before I started imagining spending the rest of my life with him and having babies together. We were going to have three. Two boys first and last a beautiful princess for us to spoil. He was going to coach the boys’ hockey teams and they’d be best friends. Our daughter would be beautiful, with Marcus’s dark hair and my green eyes.

  It was a whirlwind romance. My friends and family couldn’t be happier that I was going to get my happily ever after.

  I was under h
is spell.

  Resting my head on my arms, I take a moment to let this sink in. Is it possible that Marcus is a man I no longer know? And how could I have been so blind? I’ve been intimate with him and shared my hopes and dreams with him, only to have him betray me with another woman. Or maybe more than one. I sit up straight and square my shoulders. “I’m usually so good at reading people. How did I not see this?” I sniff and blow my nose.

  “You can’t blame yourself for this. He’s a charmer and people believe what he tells them,” Rose says.

  Cora’s brows are pinched together and she stares at me with pity. Irritation weights her sigh. “No. None of this is your fault. If you hear nothing else tonight, it’s that.” She puts her hand over mine. “Tell me you hear me, Alex.”

  I nod, not really knowing what to say. It’s all too much to process. The napkin I’m using to wipe the tears is streaked with black. I must look a mess. It’s time to get out of here. “I think I’d better go,” I tell them.

  “Are you sure?” Rose asks, lifting the bottle of wine. “We can get more.”

  Standing, I smooth my shirt and push my hair back. “Maybe some other time. Tonight, I need to be alone.”

  Rose gets up and stands, facing me. She reaches for my hands that are knotted in front of me. “I’m here if you need me. Okay? You have my number.”

  “And you have mine, too. Remember, no matter what happens,” Cora says, “we are here for you. Whether you decide to stay with him or leave, you have friends who support you.”

  Whether I stay or leave. What am I going to do? I swallow down the sauvignon rising in the back of my throat, threatening to make a reappearance.

  “I appreciate that. Thank you both. I’ll be in touch.” Giving each of them hugs, I make my way out the door as quickly as possible.

  The drive home is a complete blur. All I can see is the picture of Marcus, looking like a single man making out with someone who isn’t me. A mixture of confusion, jealousy, hate, and doubt creep through my mind. I do my best not to cry and stay focused on the road. It’s not easy, but I get home safely.

  Once inside, I throw my purse on the kitchen table and open a bottle of wine. It’s a Bordeaux from France that one of Marcus’s friends gave us as an engagement gift. I guess it’s an expensive bottle, according to Marcus. We were supposed to be saving it for a special occasion. Seems like tonight is the perfect night. He isn’t going to get to have even one sip.

  Unceremoniously, I pour myself a large glass and bring it with me to the couch, along with a box of tissues.

  Nothing could have prepared me for tonight. In the span of the last hour, the life I thought I had dissolved in front of my eyes. The man who got on his knees to propose to me a month ago has been cheating on me.

  I moved into his house and put mine on the market. We were making plans. My mother and I went dress shopping. Thank goodness, I didn’t purchase one yet. What am I going to tell my parents? They were so looking forward to the wedding and welcoming grandchildren. They’re going to be crushed.

  Tears came during the initial shock at the bar, but in this moment they’re absent. Now, regret, frustration, and resentment settle heavily in my chest. Was he so arrogant that he thought I wouldn’t find out? And did he care? Flaunting it at a party is blatant disrespect for me and everything we have. I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life.

  I drink half the glass of wine—barely tasting it—and set it down on the coffee table. A plan is what I need. Because no matter what he tells me, I’m done. This is over. We are over.

  My entire life I’ve been sensitive to everyone else’s feelings. My sister was needy and I always doted on her, never getting anything back in return. Friends growing up? I’d be their most loyal sidekick, doing whatever they needed whenever they needed it. And now my career is centered around caring for children. I give all day, every day. With Marcus, I was eager for a partnership, someone to lean on when I needed it, a degree of reciprocity. Clearly, he didn’t feel the same. I refuse to stand by and be walked on by the person that says they want to be my husband.

  Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. Everything I thought I had just went up in smoke and I don’t know what to do next. I should pack and go to my old house. It’s on the market but hasn’t sold yet. There’s still a bed there. Not tonight, I’ve been drinking. Marcus will be expecting to hear from me. If I call him, will he be able to tell that I’m upset? No, I’ll pretend that everything is fine. He’s going to be home tomorrow. We need to talk in person.

  Picking up my phone, I dial his number. It rings and rings until finally his voice mail picks up. I leave a message. “Hey, sorry I missed you. Going to bed now. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  I end the call, relieved that I don’t have to talk to him. Wonder what he’s up to tonight? Could be out with the guys, but he’s probably with a woman. The picture of him kissing someone else is vivid in my mind. Nausea whirls around my stomach.

  Getting up off the couch, I go up the stairs on tired legs. My body is as weary as my mind. I have to go to bed and save my strength for the storm coming tomorrow.

  Coffee and ibuprofen do nothing to dull the ache in my head. Sleep last night was restless and fitful. Anticipation of Marcus’s arrival today and horrible dreams starring him with random women kept me up tossing and turning.

  He isn’t expected to get home until tonight. I pull a piece of luggage down from the attic and pick out clothes I’ll need for the next couple of weeks and pack them. There’s no way I’m staying here. I can’t. He’s crushed the trust I had in him and I refuse to start a marriage off without it.

  My parents have the fairytale. They were high school sweethearts, since freshman year. Dad proposed to Mom when they graduated college and got married that winter. They’ve been inseparable ever since. Their union is something I admire and aspire to have. I thought I’d have it with Marcus. Boy was I wrong.

  I take a long hike on a trail close to the house. It normally brings me peace and solace, being outside, smelling the flowers, the warm breeze on my skin. Not today. The restlessness inside me only seems to intensify as the day goes on. I’m afraid the only thing that will assuage me is going to come from confronting Marcus.

  Back at the house, I make myself some toast. Picking at it, I can only take a few bites before I throw it in the trash. The nausea from my nerves make eating out of the question.

  A hot bath with lavender oil does seem to unwind me, if only marginally. I soak until the water is cool and my fingers are shriveled. Getting out of the tub, I wrap a towel around me and make my way to the bed. With my muscles relaxed, I lie down hoping that sleep will pull me under and give me a reprieve from the unease that’s been hanging over me all day.

  Clattering noises from within the house awaken me. The room is dark, all the daylight gone. It wasn’t a restful sleep, like last night. It feels like I slept for five minutes. I get up and look at the clock on my phone. It’s eight o’clock. There’s the telltale sound of someone coming up the stairs. Marcus must be home. I would’ve liked a little more time to prepare myself to see him. I should’ve set an alarm. Well, no time like the present.

  “Alex,” he calls from the hallway.

  “In here,” I say, my voice hoarse from sleep.

  Marcus comes in the room and turns on the light. His eyes go right to my suitcase on the floor and his brows knit together. “You going somewhere?”

  Pulling in a deep breath, I pat the spot next to me on the bed. “Why don’t you sit? We need to talk.”

  He stands staring at me, really taking me in. He has deep brown eyes and long lashes, along with his strong jawline and short dark hair. The man is too damn handsome for his own good. “There’s something wrong. Were you sleeping?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well last night.” My voice is low.

  “What is it then?” he asks tenderly and comes to the bed, taking a seat next to me. The bed dips under his weight.

  “Shit,” I say u
nder my breath and rake a hand through my tangled hair, still damp from my bath earlier. “Are you seeing someone else?”

  He blinks several times and places a big hand on my thigh. “No. Why would you ask me that?”

  “I saw a picture of you kissing another woman. It was taken last weekend. Remember the party you told me was only for the team? Care to explain that to me?” My voice rises even as I do my best to keep my cool. The vivid picture from last night is crystal clear in my memory. It’s like a boulder on my back, impossible to move, as much as I’d like to.

  The relaxed set to Marcus’s jaw is replaced with a confident tight-lipped expression. “Wait. Are you talking about Lisa Miller? I did see her at the party and I gave her a kiss. I haven’t seen her since college.”

  “The Lisa Miller you used to date?” I grip the pillow next to me and pull it onto my lap.

  “Yeah. It was nothing. We talked and caught up. Nothing more.” I search his face for a tell. Is he being honest with me? His mask is firmly in place now. I can’t read him.

  Could Rose and Cora have read too much into what they saw? And what about the rumors they’ve heard? Am I going to risk my relationship on a picture and he-said-she-said information? I don’t know what to think. The truth is that I want to believe him. Am I being foolish for even listening to him? I want this all to be a big misunderstanding.

  “The picture didn’t look like it was a friendly kiss. Your hand was in her hair. It looked intimate.” I tighten my grip on the pillow.

  He stands and waves a dismissive hand at me. “It was nothing. But honestly, who took the picture? Seems a little stalker-ish to me.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “Does it really matter?”

  He kneels in front of me, taking my hand in his, and stares up at me with his intense dark eyes. “It only matters if you believe the person that’s clearly trying to sabotage our relationship, or if you don’t trust me.”