Page 56 of Power Play

“I can’t watch you?”

His eyebrows dart up. “You… want to watch me work out?”

Suddenly nervous, I nod. “If that’s okay.”

“It might be loud. There are probably other guys in there.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” he says, steady and sure. “Come on. Let me drop my coat.”

We go through another hallway to the dressing room. He opens the door, takes a look around, and then beckons me to follow him.

It’s nothing like I pictured.

The locker room almost looks sterile. There’s worn linoleum flooring and simple metal lockers lining the walls.

“This is the changing room,” Al says. “Our dressing room is through that doorway, but this is where we change out of our street clothes.” He hangs up his coat in the first empty locker, adding his scarf and gloves to the pocket. His Grizzlies T-shirt clings to his broad back, and as the muscles of his shoulders and lats bunch and flex, my face warms.

He reaches for me, and it takes me a second to realize he wants my coat, too. When he hangs it beside his, I have to admit I like the sight of them together.

Emmy is still snoozing in her stroller as he leads me through the dressing room, past the bikes and treadmills, and down another hallway to the weight room. Three other players are already inside in the midst of their workouts. Pounding rock music shakes the room, and I peek at the stroller, but she’s still fast asleep, clutching her favorite stuffie like a lifeline.

“Hey, Gonzo,” Logan says, giving him a nod. “Bring your family to work day?”

“Something like that. You okay with it?”

The defenseman nods, going back to his bicep curls. “Sure. No skin off my back.”

“Damn,” Henry says. “Wish I’d thought of that. Audrey would probably like it.”

Lewis laughs. “No, she wouldn’t. She’d like watching you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant,” the other goaltender says with a smirk.

Al positions us in the corner by a soft mat. He drops beside me and runs through a series of stretches.

I’m not shy about watching him, taking in the graceful way his big body moves. His muscles are hot, yes, but so is the rest of him. He’s incredibly fluid on the ice, and off it, he’s even more beautiful.

After a few minutes, he gets to his feet. He ducks down, kissing me quickly, and before I can blink or protest, he’s across the room at one of the machines. I watch with undisguised interest as his strong body lifts incredibly heavy weights. He grows progressively sweatier, and when he whips off his shirt and his broad, hairy chest is on display, I think I might drool.

Fuck, my husband is hot. And with his new penchant for kissing me, I could be in serious trouble.

Emmy makes a soft snuffling noise, and I peek into the stroller to find her stirring. She sighs, shifting, but I know it’s only a matter of time before she wakes up screaming.

I wave goodbye to Al, but he’s focused on his workout and doesn’t see me. As he should be. He has a job to do.

Pushing Emmy through the halls, I find my way back to the lounge. She’s fully awake by the time we get there, and I pull her out and give her a snuggle.

“Who’s my perfect girl,” I coo, tickling her belly, and she giggles, kicking her feet.

After a quick change and a veggie puree pouch, she’s happy as a clam. That’s where Al finds us, his hair damp, changed into a new T-shirt and athletic pants. The fresh scent of his soap makes my stomach clench and heat rush through me.

“How’re my girls?” He chucks her chin.

I’m caught on his words. Girls. Plural.

“We’re good,” I squeak out.

“Awesome. You ready for that skate?”

“Now?”

“Come on.” He offers his hand, and I slide my palm against his, surprised by how right it feels. “It’ll be fun.”