Smoke Signals (12 page)

“You would’ve done just fine,” Tallie said to him, patting the back of his hand.

“Nope. You’re not going to find me anywhere near something like that.” He waved toward the area where Razor had just been. “I think we all know by now, mics and I don’t get along. That’s how you and I ended up together, you might recall.”

“Which worked out perfectly.” Tallie grinned at me. “You’d do it for your brother when the time comes, wouldn’t you?”

“Hmm,” was his only response.

“Listen,” Razor cut in before they could get going again. He reached for my hand and threaded our fingers together, making my stomach churn with nerves. “You two are headed back to Tulsa after this, aren’t you?”

Hunter nodded. “Tallie wants to be near her father when the baby comes. Plus, Kade is still there. It makes sense.”

Maybe it made sense to them, but not to me.

Razor made a grunting sound. “I think that’s where we’re going, too.”

“You’re not going back to Toronto? I thought you wanted to spend some more time with your mom or something.”

My stomach nearly revolted at the mention of Toronto, and prickles of terror raced up my spine. I couldn’t go to Toronto. Why hadn’t Razor mentioned that his mother lived there? Or that he had a reason to want to go there?

He looked at me briefly before turning his attention to Tallie. “Plans changed. Anyway, I wondered if maybe you could help Tori get settled. If you’re up to it, that is.”

“If I’m up to it?” she practically gushed. “I am
dying
to find something cute, even if I can’t wear it. Everything that fits me right now looks like a boat.” She took my other hand, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “But we can fix you right up. Let’s go shopping.”

I met Razor’s gaze, panic rising inside me like bile. He squeezed my hand and nodded, a tiny movement of his head that I doubted anyone else noticed. Then I swallowed and faced Tallie.

“We can shop.” The one good thing that came to mind about the situation was, at least I shouldn’t have to say much. She did more than enough talking for the both of us.

THE FIRST COUPLE
of days in Tulsa, it was just me and Tori. Hunter and Tallie had decided to spend a few days in Vegas before flying back, apparently so Tallie could visit every drive-thru chapel she could find to watch people get married. Even without the two of them, there were a few other people involved with the team around—the general manager and some of his staff and, of course, the team’s owners, Mr. and Mrs. Jernigan. Frankly, I wasn’t ready to deal with Mrs. J yet in terms of letting her know I’d married a porn star, so I decided a low profile was best, as well as keeping Tori well away from Tulsa Thunderbirds headquarters.

Tom Jernigan was the minister of a massive church—one of those that had outgrown their arena-sized building and now had their services aired on national television. He’d decided to invest some of his enormous fortune in bringing a hockey team to Tulsa.

I still hadn’t figured out his reasoning, but last year had been the Tulsa Thunderbirds’ inaugural season. I’d been claimed in the expansion draft that took place. As a team, we were awful, and I didn’t expect much to have changed about that for this coming season. Historically speaking, expansion teams needed at least a decade or more before they found their footing within the National Hockey League. It hadn’t taken me long to come to terms with the fact that, for however long I was a member of the T-Birds, I couldn’t expect us to do much. Maybe before the end of my career, I’d get a chance to play for a team with a realistic expectation to win the Cup. That was my hope. In the meanwhile, I was playing the part of the good soldier: keep my head down and do my job, and try not to let the constant losing get to me. Easier said than done.

Anyway, I didn’t mind Mr. J so much, but his wife, Sharon, was a real piece of work. She’d made it her mission last season to act as a room mother or some shit in our locker room. She’d instituted a swear jar and was always hovering, trying to make sure all the guys were on our best behavior, since we were now somehow representatives of their church. Or something like that. I didn’t expect to ever understand it. My job was to play hockey, not preach to lost souls. And hockey players tended to swear a lot. I was ninety-nine point nine percent positive it was built into our DNA.

Anyway, the second she found out about Tori’s past, I knew one of two things would happen. Mrs. J would either proselytize in an effort to save Tori’s sinful soul or she’d have such a conniption fit about being forced to be associated with such a loose woman that she might have a heart attack. Neither of which was what Tori needed right now. I wasn’t entirely sure what she
did
need, but it wasn’t that.

So Tori and I spent those days hanging around my house, for the most part. I wanted to try to get her comfortable with me and see if she could relax. I kept a guest room ready for my mom, in case she got the chance to come down for a visit, so I offered that to Tori. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to push myself on her, and until we got to the bottom of whatever was going on with her physically—because it damn well shouldn’t have hurt her that night—I didn’t think it was a good idea to take her to my bed.

She’d been both confused and grateful to have her own space, it seemed.
Thank you for room. But don’t you want…?
With the last part, she’d made some crude gestures with her hands that had more than done the job of getting her meaning across.

I’d reassured her at least a dozen times over those first couple of days of our marriage that no, I didn’t expect her to suck me off or give me a hand job, and I had no intention of fucking her pussy or her ass simply because she was my wife. I needed her to want it—want
me
—and not offer herself up like a piece of meat just because she thought it was expected.

She’d been sleeping in that guest room every night, but she wasn’t shying away from my casual touches quite so much anymore. If I came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder when she wasn’t expecting it, she still jumped. I made it a point to make my presence known, and that seemed to help. Tori wasn’t making any effort to touch me, though. Not unless it was something sexual.

With any other woman in my life, I would have been fine with jumping straight to sex and forgetting all about the hand-holding, cuddling, and shoulder rubbing. But Tori was different.

After about a day, she’d finally let go of her purse and left it in the bedroom while she was in another room. I hoped it was a sign that she was starting to trust me more. I knew we were making progress. The fact was, she’d opened up to me about her parents and the Mafia without all that much prodding on my part. I got the sense that there were cracks in her dam, and a flood was on its way. There was just no way of knowing exactly when the final chink would happen or how I would stop the influx from drowning us both when it came. Something I'd have to figure out when it happened, I supposed.

I’d been telling her as much as I could think of about myself—stories of growing up playing hockey, filling her in on the relationship I had with Babs and Katie so she would understand that part of my life better, telling her about some of my teammates here in Tulsa so she would have a clue what that part of my life would be like once the season started up—but she hadn’t yet decided to tell me much about herself. The only thing I could get her to talk about with regularity was ballet. In fact, she lit up when the topic turned to dance. Soon, I intended to look into what dance schools and companies were around. If I could get her involved in something, I had no doubt it would help her feel more comfortable here.

Today, Tallie and Hunter were supposed to be back, and Tallie was planning to pick up Tori so they could go shopping. Tori was in the shower, getting ready, so it was as good a time as any to call my agent, Greg. He was a lawyer, so I thought he would be a good place to start with getting Tori a green card now that she was my wife.

“I’m not an immigration lawyer,” was his initial, grumbling response.

“No, but you work with teams to handle immigration issues all the time for your clients,” I reminded him.

He represented Swedes, Finns, a German, more Canadians and Americans than I could count, and at least a few Russians, and we all had to be cleared for working in the US and Canada. Any time there was a trade or some guy signed with a new team, the visas and whatnot had to be pushed through ASAP. He took part in all of that, as well as arranging for whatever documentation a guy’s wife and children might need in order to be with him. There was no reason he couldn’t help me out with Tori’s situation. At least not the way I saw it.

“Your situation is different,” he said. “She was in the US on a student visa. She’s lost that, so legally, she has to return to her home count—”

“She’s not going back to Russia,” I cut in. No chance in hell was I letting that happen.

“It’s not me who’s going to make her go back. I’m just trying to tell—”

“I know perfectly well what you’re trying to tell me.
I’m
telling
you
that it’s not going to happen. Period.”

He let out a beleaguered sigh. “Razor, I’m trying to help you out here, but with the little I know about immigration law, it doesn’t look good.”

“But she married me. I’m a dual-citizen. That should be all it takes to get a green card.”

“But it looks like she married you
just
to get a green card. This happened too fast.”

It looked that way because that was the truth. “And that’s a problem?” I asked warily.

“It’s a big problem.”

“How big?”

“I need to talk to some people to find out for sure. But it’s big. Really big. That’s one of the few requirements I actually know off the top of my head.”

“Shit.”

“Shit doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

I drummed my fingers on my knee. Every cell in my body was bursting to punch something, but that wouldn’t help a fucking thing. I couldn’t just sit still, though. Before I went crazy, I got up and paced to the kitchen. “So now what? What do I do?”

“For the time being, sit tight. Be sure she doesn’t run. Let me see what I can sort out.”

“You’ve got to fix this, Greg.” I didn’t even attempt to hide the hint of panic in my voice. “You’ve got to find a way to make this work out. Because she’s not going back to Russia. Not now. Not ever.”

“Got it. I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s not fucking good enough—seeing what you can do.”

“It’s going to have to be enough for now. I’m not a damn magician. I can’t change the law. All I can do is advise you on it.”

“I know.” I dragged a hand down my face. I
did
know. But now everything I had promised Tori about her future was in question, and I was feeling like a complete and total failure, all because I’d been impetuous. Not anything new for me. I had always tended to act before I thought, but this was different. This was bigger and a thousand times more important. I didn’t care what I had to do to keep my promises to her, but I
would
keep them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting this all on you,” I finally said. “I just need for this to all work out. Whatever we have to do, we can’t let them send her back to Russia.”

“I know you’re sorry. Let me go see what I can find out. I’ll call you back by the end of the week with an update. In the meantime, you two need to be sure you’re acting like a happily married couple in every way possible. Everyone you know has to believe you’re in love with each other. In other cases like this…”

“What?” I demanded. “Tell me.”

“They could interview everyone you know. You’ve got to be incredibly convincing. Both of you. If you can’t convince the people in your lives that you married her because you love her, and vice versa, it won’t look good.”

Fucking hell. I hung up the phone and tossed it on the countertop. Still itching to hit something, I pounded my fists on the refrigerator door and spun around to bang my head back against it.

Then I saw her. Wide eyed. Lips parted. Ready to bolt.