Push (Colorado Storm Hockey #3)

Chapter 12

12

HUX

What. The. Fuck?

I’ve been to my fair share of charity galas and fancy events over the years. After all, it comes with the job.

But this wedding reception? It’s beyond what I’ve ever seen. It’s being held in a ballroom in one of Denver’s ritziest hotels. There are fresh flowers absolutely everywhere, including an entire wall covered in them. Enough white pillar candles to light the room on their own. Gold everything. So much gold. Extravagant is an understatement.

And I thought the wedding ceremony at the church was a lot.

It’s got me wondering if these people are royalty and Ada didn’t think to tell me.

I lean down to whisper in Ada’s ear, “Is it always this…extravagant?”

She laughs. “Yep. I mean, if a family can afford it. And trust me, David’s family can. Lebanese families like to one-up each other and show off. This is pretty much par for the course.”

“It’s a long way from our Vegas chapel wedding, isn’t it?”

Her mouth widens into a brilliant grin, and her soft brown eyes dance with amusement. “I like it when you joke, Mr. Huxley. You should do it more often.”

That makes me grin back at her. I enjoy making her smile like that and even more so when I can make her laugh. Does she feel the same warmth I feel when I’m around her? She’s easy to be around and in the small time we’ve spent together, I’ve noticed she makes even the most overwhelming situations feel manageable.

As she leads the way toward our assigned table, I notice we’re getting a lot of looks. I’ve been a pretty famous hockey player in Colorado for many years now, so I’m used to having people recognize me. But this isn’t just that. It’s like I’m being observed with Ada. And dare I say it, we’re being judged. More like she’s being judged. Like maybe they’re wondering how she ended up with someone like me. There’s a darkness to that notion that makes me angry on her behalf. And it makes me think back to meeting George at the church. What did he say? That I was quite the catch for her.

I shake my head.

George.

There was something about him that didn’t sit right with me, beyond the fact that the Khoury family wants Ada to settle down with him. He gave off a sales vibe. Perhaps calculating. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but what I do know is that she should not end up with that man.

Hell, I’d be willing to stay married to Ada, just to keep him away from her.

For the life of me, I can’t understand why her family would push for him so hard. He’s simply not good enough for her and she deserves someone that can offer her more. Ada is one of a kind, truly exceptional, and stunning. She runs a successful business, is smart as hell, and is unbelievably witty.

When we get to our table, I’m surprised to see no one else is seated yet. Just as well, I don’t mind having alone time with Ada. I pull out her chair for her and she takes a seat. Then I unbutton my jacket and sit down beside her.

“Thank you for being here with me,” she says. Her smile is genuine and sweet. “I know this isn’t exactly your scene.”

“You’re right, it’s not, but that’s okay. I’m happy to be here with you.”

She lifts an eyebrow at me. “What exactly is your scene? Besides hockey, of course?”

“Ah, back to the Q&A, then?” I pull at my collar dramatically to make her laugh and it works.

“You know it,” she replies.

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have a scene.”

“So not having a scene is kind of your scene, then?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I mean, I enjoy being at home. Being outside. Chopping wood, going for hikes, fishing in the creek near my house.”

“Chopping wood, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That adds up. You’ve got this sexy lumberjack in an Italian suit kind of vibe.”

Sexy . I don’t hate it.

Before I can reply with something half as witty, a server swings by with a tray of champagne flutes. Ada grabs two, one of which I assume is for me. But she takes one and downs it in one gulp and immediately starts on the second one.

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Wow, really?”

“What? If I’m going to survive this reception, I’m going to need all the liquid courage I can get.”

“Fair point,” I say and take a sip of the water in front of me. “So tell me this. I thought you were supposed to be a bridesmaid at this wedding. Isn’t that why you were in Vegas?”

“I used to be, but Kyla basically dumped me from the wedding party when a groomsman couldn’t make it.”

“Oh shit, really? ”

“Really,” she replies and shrugs.

“Well, their loss is my gain,” I reply.

Ada laughs at that, but the warmth in her eyes tells me she appreciates the sentiment. I’m not just blowing smoke, I do mean it. We’re playing a role here, but to some degree it feels real. Or maybe that’s just a secret wish I have.

Suddenly, the lights dim significantly and a hush comes over the crowd for one brief moment, until they all seem to move in the same direction with giddy excitement.

Ada tugs at me as she stands up. “Come on, get ready for the most dramatic thing you’ve ever seen.”

I rise to my feet and follow her to where everyone is gathering. Someone puts lit sparklers in our hands and I have no idea what to expect with all this.

The double doors burst open and what sounds like drumming begins. At first, I think it’s going to be a marching band entrance, figuring the bride and groom have some sort of high school activity in common. But that’s not it at all. The drums get louder, bouncing sound off the walls. I turn to see a group of men entering the ballroom, dressed in black head-to-toe and carrying drums outlined in white glowing light. The drummers beat their drums as they dance through the crowd.

“What is this for?” I ask Ada.

Ada leans in close and has to shout over the drumming. “It’s called the zaffe! It’s a traditional Lebanese wedding entrance.”

The drummers continue their procession and the sparklers add to the effect. Guests are clapping and cheering along as if they’re old pros at this, staying in rhythm with the drums. It’s completely natural to them while it’s feeling very new and different to me.

“The bride and groom are going to follow them in,” she explains. Her eyes are shining with excitement.

As if on cue, the crowd parts, and I see the bride and groom emerge following the drummers. Ada’s cousin is wearing a different gown than she did at the church, and somehow it is even more over the top and she’s sparkling under the light of the fireworks.

Out of nowhere, women in the crowd make a sound like I’ve never heard before. It’s primal and joyous. Like a high-pitched yelp or singing. To my utter surprise…and delight, Ada joins in.

“What is that?” I want to know.

“It’s called the zalghouta and we do it at weddings to express their joy for the couple.”

“Only women?” I ask.

“Anyone who can hit those notes,” she says and winks at me.

She wasn’t kidding about the joy. Joy and celebration have washed over everyone. Even me. It’s infectious and inescapable. It feels like my heart is beating in time with the drums. Beating so hard, like I’ve just skated down the ice to smack away an empty net goal.

As the bride and groom make their way to the center of the room, the drumming reaches a crescendo, and I get lost in the moment. Endorphins are coursing through me in a way I haven’t felt in ages. I take hold of Ada’s free hand because I so badly want to touch her.

Her eyes meet mine. They’re heated and a little wild. I think she’s feeling the same way. Amid this spectacle that should hold my attention and put all the focus on the bride and groom, all I can see is Ada. She is strikingly beautiful, every inch of her. The drummers keep going, but nothing can pull me away.

My gaze fixates on her lips. They’re tinted rose tonight, and I’m trapped in the memory of them, tempting me to kiss them once again. I know what that kiss could lead to and that makes me wonder how her skin feels, especially the parts hidden beneath her dress. Her curly dark hair cascading down her bare back is calling for me, begging me to weave my fingers through it as I pull her body to mine .

I’m tempted. Tempted to get the wedding night we didn’t have. Tempted to pull her away from the chaos of this celebration and find a dark corner of the room so I can worship her the way she deserves to be worshipped.

So, I do.

Leaving the pulsating energy of the procession behind, with Ada’s hand in mine, I guide her through the crowd and no one seems to notice. All eyes are on the show. We lose the sparklers and she follows closely, holding onto my arm with her free hand. I want to tell her I’ve got her.

So, I do.

“I’ve got you. Keep following.”

Ada’s eyes meet mine with a flash of curiosity and a surprised smile. We slip through a set of doors and find ourselves in a dimly lit corridor. The sound of the wedding celebration fades as we move further and further away from the ballroom.

In the soft glow of the sconces lining the walls, I see a glimmer of something pass between us. Like an understanding, a magnetic pull, and we don’t need any more words because we both want the same thing. One another .

And I can’t wait any longer.

I press her to the wall and crash my lips onto hers in a fierce, passionate kiss. Ada quickly reciprocates and wraps her arms around my neck, drawing me closer. The kiss holds nothing back and the world around us quickly disappears. There’s only this. Only her. And the taste of champagne.

When we break apart, our breath is heavy, but the heat and hunger between us match the intensity of the drumming that can be heard in the distance. Without a word, Ada takes my hand and leads me further down the corridor, her steps sure and purposeful. We’re on the same page. We need more privacy and we find it in an alcove, the shadows hiding us from prying eyes .

In this secret spot, my hands plaster Ada’s back and bring her body close to mine. I’m savoring the feel of her soft skin and the heat of her body through the thin fabric of the front of her dress.

We kiss again and her hands start on my hair, which until now had been in a nicely held bun. She undoes it all and my hair falls around my face. She pauses to take in the sight of me. I hope she likes what she sees. Before I can ask if she does, she kisses me again with everything she’s got. Her soft moans blend with the sound of our hurried breaths and those moans might very well be the end of me.

I want this woman. Desperately.

And I know I’m getting carried away, recklessly giving into my desire for her. But this may be it. And if I’ve only got one shot at this with her, I want to give her as much pleasure as I possibly can in a moment like this at this place we’re in. My fingers find their way beneath her dress and slide up her thighs. Her head falls back against the wall as she gasps at my touch while a noticeable shiver runs through her body.

It’s hot as fuck and drives me forward, finding the spot I’ve been longing to touch. She reacts as I hope she does with moans and gasps, and hooded eyes. As I touch her, really touch her at her center, her pleasure soaking my fingers, I feel a surge of possessiveness.

My wife.

The thought is unbidden, but it’s there.

I keep at it, committing to memory what she likes, what makes her react like I’ve lit a fire inside her. I’m not sure what the point is of doing that since this is most likely only a one-time event, but I want to know. I want to carry that knowledge with me for the rest of my life.

Ada grips my shoulders, tighter and tighter, which I take as a plea for more and more. I give it to her. I tear my mouth away from her jaw and watch her, from her parted lips to her rapid breaths, and everything in between. I don’t want to miss the moment she falls apart from my touch.

And then she does and everything else in this world becomes absolutely insignificant to me. I’m tempted to fall to my knees and just hold her around the center.

So, I do.

I hold her to me, my head pressed against the underside of her breasts. As she comes down, her fingers weave through my hair. I take deep intentional breaths to curb my own desire and just breathe with her…just be with her in this moment. The wedding seems to be on a different planet from where we are now, maybe a whole different galaxy.

As I come back up, our eyes connect, and there is a silent exchange between us about how far we’ve taken this. Not just in the moment, but in this marriage we have no intention of keeping.