The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife (Blair and Grayson) novel Chapter 277

Chapter 277

-LORETTA-

I came down for water and forgot it because what I saw almost made me slip and fall on my ass.

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Marco was in the kitchen with his back to the stairs, and he did not have a shirt on. The kettle was on. His phone was on the counter.

I swallowed hard.

I stopped on the last step.

I had never seen a man look this impressive without a shirt before. His physique was remarkably defined, with chiseled abs and broad shoulders that suggested intense dedication. Did he live at the gym? Was this level of fitness a requirement for being an F1 driver? Did they demand such a perfect physique? I found myself unable to look away, captivated, suddenly wishing I was running my tongue…LORETTA!

Broad through the shoulders. Narrower at the waist. Smooth, not a show of hair, just skin over muscle that moved when he reached for a cup.

His back did a slow, sexy movement when he turned the tap off. I watched the waistband of his trousers sit low.

Heat went up my neck so fast I felt it in my ears.

He turned.

I was still staring. There was no dignified version of that.

His eyes caught mine, dropped, and came back, and the corner of his mouth moved as if he had decided not to say the obvious thing.

“Morning,” he said.

“You’re not dressed.”

“I’m in my kitchen.”

“It’s a shared kitchen.” I went to the cupboard so I would stop looking at his chest. The cups were in the wrong place. Or I was. “Some of us were raised to put a shirt on before we walk out of our bedrooms.”

“I was here first. You came here for-”

“For water.”

He pulled a shirt off the back of the chair. I got one more look before it came down over his body and ruined the view, and I was both grateful and annoyed about it.

What was wrong with me? I was the one who’d complained about it and he’d been nice enough to listen to my

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The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife

request.

He picked up his keys. The kettle clicked off behind him.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Practice.”

I frowned. “You mean racing?”

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“Yeah.” He said it like the question was strange. “Not the actual thing. If I can’t enter any of the races, I still want to be on the track. Private session.”

I immediately started panicking. He was still injured, why was he getting on a track?

“I can’t let you do that.”

I moved before the sentence finished. The door was right in front of him. I got there first and leaned my back against it, arms folded, chin up. He stopped with the keys in his hand and looked at me as if I had completely lost it.

“What?”

“The doctors said you shouldn’t be driving. They definitely would not want you to practice at a track.”

“We aren’t actually married, you know.” His jaw had gone tight. “All contract. You can’t stop me from doing what I want to do.”

I bit my lip. “I know it isn’t in the rules that you have to listen to me. This is your life you’re playing with.”

“I’m doing this.”

“Fine.” I lifted my chin higher. “Then I’ll be in the car with you while you practice.”

“Are you insane?”

“No.”

“Do you even know anything about these cars?” He was amused now, which was worse. “There’s one seat. That’s the point. You don’t bring a passenger to a formula car unless you want the passenger in your lap, and I’m sorry but that is not happening.”

I flushed. The lap image arrived and refused to leave. “I’m not an idiot. The official cars have one seat. You’re not in an official session. Private practice means you can take a two-seater. They exist.”

He stared at me.

“You looked that up,” he said.

“I may have.”

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9:38 Sat, Oct 10

The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife

His phone rang on the counter. Luca’s name popped up.

Marco looked at the door, at me against it, and swore under his breath.

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