A Bear Goal by Anya Nowlan

papers. He chuckled, shaking his head as Cannon came up next to him, taking his helmet off.
    “Wifey in a mood?” he asked with a smirk, cracking his neck.
    “All for our continuous enjoyment,” Heath said noncommittally.
    They’d been practicing wrist shots that afternoon. The regionals were close, and after the time they’d had at them the year before, Heath couldn’t wait for a repeat performance. A year had passed since the first game they’d had at the Shifter Grove Ice Arena, and this time they were going to be having the first two games out of state before returning home. The fact that they were going up against the San Diego Predators again, but this time in the regional playoffs, had everyone on edge.
    Including, it seemed, his wife most of all. Sable Locklear. The light of his life.
    “I better go see what’s going on,” he said, pushing off as Cannon returned to the drills, just in time to hear Coach tear him a new one for goofing off so close to an important game.
    Some things never change, Heath thought with some amusement, stepping through the gate and onto the rubber-covered floors, picking up some bladeguards from the bucket hanging next to the entrance and slipping them on after taking off his gloves and helmet.
    He put his stick away, leaning it against the partition, and sauntered over to Sable, who was busy shoving the stack of paperwork into Jake’s hands—who worked as her assistant now—since the supply line manager for the Shifter Grove Shovelers was one busy lady. Quietly, Heath slipped his arms around her, letting his palms come to rest on her big belly. Nuzzling her neck, he planted a soft kiss there, making her squirm against his touch and Jake flit off, sensing that the moment of escape was now or never.
    “You better be Heath or someone’s cruising for a serious bruising. Don’t think I won’t hit you just because I’m pregnant,” she said with a giggle, wiggling back against Heath and making him growl softly.
    He loved the way her body felt against his and as usual, his eyes were glancing around for a small enclosed space where he could pull her to and do horrible things to her. With a sigh, he settled for a quick kiss on the side of her neck and then nipped the delicate flesh there, her scent and taste driving him wild as they always did.
    “It’s me, baby, don’t worry. I won’t let anyone touch you that isn’t me,” he said with a low growl, both teasing her and meaning every word of it at the same time.
    As much as he’d calmed down over the last year of them being together, he was still Heath Locklear. And he’d crack some heads if things came down to it or his woman was in any way endangered or put into an uncomfortable situation.
    “Oh, good. I was worried there for a moment,” Sable said, and he could sense her rolling her eyes from the way she said that.
    She twisted around in his grasp, coming to face him, and Heath beamed down at her happy, smiling face. The pregnancy made her look even more delectable, those wide hips of hers begging to be touched and her joyous glow making him take notice more than ever before. The more his she was, the worse he wanted even more of her.
    “How’s our little hockey genius?” he asked, putting a hand on her belly and rubbing it gently.
    “Hey, don’t put expectations on him! What if he wants to be a pianist or something?”
    “A werebear pianist? That’ll be the day,” Heath scoffed. “No, I’ll take a football player. Or if he really insists, he can become an engineer. No pianists in the Locklear family.”
    “Even if I tell you that’s what he really wants to be?” Sable asked, batting her long lashes up at him.
    Heath sighed, squeezing her carefully against him. “Fine. Maybe then.”
    “That’s what I figured,” she said victoriously, tugging him down by his jersey to kiss him on the lips.
    She was in a team jersey as well, but wearing Shifter Grove Shovelers colors—green and white—proudly. When