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Copyright © 2024 by Red Diva Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

Cover Design: Wingfield Designs www.wingfielddesigns.co.uk/

Editor: Katie Kulhawik

Proofreading: Romance Editor, Nina Fiegl, s.p. www.ninafiegl.com

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Foreword

Dedication

Playlist

Prologue

1. Braxton

2. Dakota

3. Braxton

4. Braxton

5. Dakota

6. Braxton

7. Dakota

8. Dakota

9. Braxton

10. Dakota

11. Dakota

12. Braxton

13. Dakota

14. Braxton

15. Braxton

16. Dakota

17. Dakota

18. Dakota

19. Braxton

20. Braxton

21. Dakota

22. Dakota

23. Dakota

24. Braxton

25. Dakota

26. Braxton

27. Dakota

28. Braxton

29. Dakota

30. Dakota

31. Braxton

32. Dakota

33. Braxton

34. Braxton

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

More Books by Siena Trap

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Foreword

A comprehensive list of trigger warnings for those who need them can be found on my website: www.sienatrapbooks.com

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For all the girls who have brought home a guy that their family couldn’t stop gushing about how “nice” he is.

Only for you to know that he’s got the filthiest motherfucking mouth when he’s got you alone in bed. And it’s your little secret.

May I present to you the beautifully broken, oh-so-sweet, dirty-talking Braxton Slate.

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Prologue

Braxton

This is a fucking nightmare.

Last night was bad enough when my name wasn’t called during the first round of the draft with a camera pointed in my face the entire time. But today, as I listened to a name that wasn’t mine called out every three minutes, it began to sink in that this was really happening. 

With two picks left in the seventh round, I wasn’t getting drafted.

Never once hearing my name over the loudspeakers, I was unable to tune out the hushed whispers coming from all around.

“Is there an injury we don’t know about?”

“Did he bomb his draft interviews?”

“You’d think his brother would be enough to get him drafted somewhere.”

“Maybe he just isn’t as good as Jaxon.”

Gritting my teeth, I tried to remain calm, knowing the entire hockey community was watching my public humiliation. 

It always circled back to Jaxon. How could it not?

My brother was Jaxon Slate, the captain of the Connecticut Comets professional hockey team. He wasn’t just a good player; he was a superstar, a generational talent.

And I’d been living in his shadow since the day I was born. 

Don’t get me wrong, I idolized my brother. But I had been only nine years old when he was drafted number one overall, the hottest recruit in a decade, and suddenly all eyes were on me, expecting me to be Jaxon Part Two.

But the pressure to live up to Jaxon’s talent began long before that day. With such a large age gap between us boys—eight and a half years apart—by the time I was old enough to don skates, Jaxon was already making waves in the youth hockey circuit.

My brother had natural talent. I wasn’t quite so lucky, even if we shared the same parents.

But that didn’t matter to our dad. He held me to the impossibly high standard Jaxon had set. 

I could hear him in my head even now, as I once again failed to measure up to my superstar brother, about to become the undrafted Slate brother. 

Jaxon did it this way.

Jaxon was the team’s leading scorer at your age.

Why can’t you be more like Jaxon?

For so many years, I bit my tongue when all I wanted to do was stand up and scream, “I’m not Jaxon!”

Jaxon was effortless on the ice; he could see the game in his head like no one else—almost as if his brain were computing the opposing team’s play before it materialized, or finding the perfect open spot on the ice to cash in.

I had to work my ass off every day and still never came close. They said hard work could beat talent when talent didn’t work hard, but unfortunately for me, my brother was the most dedicated player I’d ever met. He didn’t take days off. Hockey was his life.

Sometimes, I wondered what my life would have been like if we’d had more siblings, if Jaxon and I were closer in age, or if perhaps I’d been born a girl. Would any of those changes have made a difference? Would there be less pressure on me now to follow in my big brother’s footsteps?

Maybe this was a good thing, not getting drafted. It could be my way out.

I had earned a full-ride scholarship to play hockey at Hartford State. I didn’t need anyone to point out that for someone trying to escape my brother’s shadow, I willingly put myself in the same city where he played—we all had our issues. Perhaps I could keep my head down, play hockey, but focus on getting a degree. There were tons of college players who knew going in that those were their last years of playing. Outside of beer league, at least. 

This might be my chance to carve my own path. One I chose for myself. 

What would my life even look like without hockey consuming every waking moment?

As I mulled over that thought, the commissioner of the league stepped up to the podium to announce the final pick of this year’s draft. It was time for him to put me out of my misery.

Leaning into the microphone, he said, “This year, it seems we have a little excitement coming into our final pick. The Chicago Crush have traded their seventh-round pick this year to the Connecticut Comets for their seventh-round picks the next two years.”

Jaxon gave me a slight nudge with his elbow, and what the commissioner was saying sank in. 

The Comets . . . 

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Please, God, no.

“With the 224th pick in the draft, this year’s Mr. Irrelevant, the Connecticut Comets select Braxton Slate, a forward from the US National Junior Team.”

My parents, Jaxon, and my girlfriend, Lacey, rose to their feet, but I was glued to my chair. 

Being dubbed this year’s Mr. Irrelevant, the final draft pick, was bad enough, but at least that usually meant you were going to a team that was that year’s champions. This was worse. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that strings had been pulled out of pity. The Comets felt bad that their star player’s brother was about to go undrafted and made sure that didn’t happen. 

My dad threw me a glare, forcing out through teeth clamped down in a fake smile, “Get up. You’re embarrassing us.”

He was embarrassed? I was the kid whose big brother had to swoop in and “save” the day. 

I stood, letting my family hug me and my girlfriend kiss me, before walking on autopilot to the stage.

How the hell was I supposed to separate myself from Jaxon now that we would be playing for the same team? And after the stunt he just pulled, I could forget about working my way up through the minors after college. I wouldn’t put it past him to have me out on a shift with him—the left wing to his center.

If I was going to be thrown into the deep end—and likely the national spotlight—I would have to make these next four years count. Improving my game and preparing for the professional stage would take every ounce of my focus. 

Lucky me.

The draft rotated between the cities housing professional teams; this year, it was Vegas’s turn to host. As soon as the press cleared the arena, I grabbed Lacey and stepped out onto the Strip. Pulling her behind me, I couldn’t get away from that arena fast enough. 

Stumbling to keep up in her heels, she whined, “Braxton! Slow down!”

At eighteen, we couldn’t enjoy the drinking or gambling that Sin City had to offer, but there were plenty of attractions within walking distance for us to enjoy. Not that this trip was for pleasure. Oh no, the business of the rest of my life was the sole purpose of our trek to the desert, and for a split second, I wished I’d never set foot on the ice. 

Chest heaving, I stumbled to a stop before the famous dancing fountains, leaning on my elbows over the concrete railing. Closing my eyes, I prayed that when I opened them, I would find this all to have been a bad dream.

Any team would’ve been better than the Comets. Hell, not getting drafted would have been preferable. 

Jaxon had already been in the league for almost a decade, but knowing him, he’d find a way to stretch out his career. I’d never have a chance to branch out on my own, make a name for myself.

“Braxton, we need to talk.” Lacey’s voice filtered over the music accompanying the fountains. 

Groaning, I forced my eyes open and turned to face her. 

We had been together for a couple of years now. Since I first took a spot on the National Junior Team in Detroit—yet another spot granted to me by virtue of being Jaxon’s little brother, the anticipated yet predictably disappointing sequel. She was a local girl, and we’d met at the rink after one of my games. 

Dad made sure to lecture me every time he came to visit or when he made his weekly calls that having a girlfriend was a distraction. Telling me it took time and focus away from what I’d come to Detroit to do—play hockey. Not to mention the warnings about what would happen if I managed to knock her up. 

Michael Slate was deadly serious when he said it had better be worth it because I’d be marrying whatever girl I got in trouble—prior relationship or one-night stand, it wouldn’t matter. That threat didn’t bother me because Lacey was the girl for me. When the team went on long bus rides for away games, we spent hours on the phone talking about our future. She planned to follow me wherever I got drafted—back when that hadn’t been in doubt—and if she could support me during the early days of my career, I would take care of her when it took off. 

It seemed so simple. But what did we know? We were a couple of stupid kids.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I sighed. “What is it, Lace? If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having the best day.”

Her brown eyes assessed me for a beat before she said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

I was not in the mood for her habit of talking in riddles. Not today.

“Can’t do what?”

Gesturing between us with her hand, she clarified, “Us.”

Staring at her, I wasn’t quite sure what I was hearing. “Us. As in . . .”

“It’s over.”

I barked out a laugh of disbelief, repeating her words. “It’s over. Are you fucking kidding me right now? After that shitshow back there, you’re dumping me?!” 

My voice rose loud enough that fellow tourists enjoying the fountain show turned to gawk at the ridiculous soap opera of my life unfolding. What did it matter now? My career—or the potential lack of one—would be plastered all over the sports media outlets before I returned to the hotel. Why not let people witness a public breakup while I was at it?

Lacey popped her hip. “It’s because of that shitshow. Mr. Irrelevant? You had so much potential, but you’re going nowhere fast, Braxton, and I’m not going to let you take me down with you.”

I scoffed as a memory of the day I met her came to the front of my mind. Lacey hanging around the rink after most of the spectators had gone home. She wasn’t picky; she’d have taken on any player. She was just a run-of-the-mill puck bunny, looking to get in on the ground floor before a guy hit it big. And I was the idiot who couldn’t see past a pretty face and promises of forever to uncover the scheming gold-digger underneath. 

She’d been using me all along.

Even though I was more pissed at myself that I hadn’t seen it coming, it didn’t stop me from trying to hurt her like she’d hurt me. “Fine. Guess you wouldn’t have been able to hack it as a hockey wife anyway. Not every season is a championship year or even a playoff year. It’s better I know what kind of fair-weather fan—or girlfriend—you turned out to be before it was too late.”

She flinched at my harsh words. 

Knowing she had a key to her own hotel room and a return ticket to Michigan on her phone, I turned on my heel and walked away. 

Walking the Strip, I berated myself for being a gullible, lovesick fool for the first girl who’d shown interest in me. I should have known better. But a small part of me had been hopeful that someone had finally seen past my last name and who my brother was—that they saw me.  

Was that really so much to ask? I guess I had my answer. 

I would never be more than an off-brand Jaxon Slate to those in the hockey community.

This sport was ruining my life from the inside out.

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Chapter 1

Braxton

Four Years Later

Today was the day I had been dreading for four years. The day I officially joined the Connecticut Comets franchise as a player.

The season always kicked off with a pre-season barbeque at a country club for the entire organization. It was the calm before the storm. Come Monday, pre-season training would be in full swing and then we’d launch headfirst into the season, which spanned from October to April, and beyond if the team made the playoffs—something the Comets often did; this year coming in as reigning champions.

Coming to Connecticut for college had been a mistake. 

Jaxon had gone away to boarding school for hockey by the time I was six. Honestly, we’d barely spent any of our childhood together, so I never experienced what it was like to be sucked into orbit by his larger-than-life personality, both on and off the ice. 

I didn’t fault him for being a good guy, but I couldn’t help harboring some resentment over the fact that when I was out and about in Hartford and my face sparked recognition, people immediately glanced over my shoulder, hoping he was with me. 

Jaxon was the main attraction; I was simply the opening act. 

And it didn’t help that God had a hell of a sense of humor. I was a few inches shorter—five-ten to his six-foot—but other than that, our looks were so similar that there was no denying we were brothers. 

Jaxon had made his mark on this town, becoming the youngest captain in Comets franchise history. Beyond that, he was the face of the league. Teammates and opponents raved about him, and everyone knew he was Hall of Fame bound. 

And if the career wasn’t enough, he now had the perfect family. Hero Jaxon had swooped in and saved the fallen princess—my sister-in-law, Natalie—and had even gone so far as to adopt her three older kids from a previous marriage. They had a daughter of their own—my niece, Charlie—and another baby due any day now.

Jaxon was the ultimate golden boy, and I was blinded by the light of his spotless reputation.

Wanting to set myself apart, I had put my head down and focused during my four years at Hartford State, earning a bachelor’s degree in sports analytics. I figured it would be useful if my playing career petered out at some point—I could stay close to the game on the back end. 

Speaking of the hockey side, I had focused on strength training, increasing my speed on the ice, and honing my shooting skills. I was a better player now than I had been when I was “drafted.” During my senior year, I was named captain and led my team to a collegiate national championship this past April. 

Braxton Slate was a champion, something Jaxon had yet to achieve. Although, not for lack of trying. Each year, the Comets inched closer and closer to a league championship.

It was nice while it lasted because Jaxon was on the ice two months later, lifting that famed championship trophy over his head, and my accomplishments were quickly forgotten.

It was almost as if he was silently taunting me. Anything I could do, he could do better. 

He didn’t do it on purpose; he was naturally better. I worked hard for everything while it came easily for him. I was fighting a losing battle.

So, now, here we were. On the same team, and the league was in a frenzy, wondering if we would play on the same line. 

Seated at one of the makeshift bars on the country club lawn, I sipped my beer, needing a moment of peace. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk today, especially if the topic on everyone’s tongues was the Slate brothers playing together for the first time. Maybe I’d spend my day with the kids. My youngest nephew, Beau, was seven and hockey-obsessed. It wouldn’t be hard to convince him to let me in on whatever pickup game they had going on today while the adults mingled. 

Just as I was about to push off my barstool, Levi Nixon dropped onto the seat beside me. Ordering a whiskey neat from the bartender, he turned to me. 

“We’re hosting a house party tomorrow night,” he said casually. 

By we, he meant me, himself, and Blake Abbott. We shared a house in the Hartford suburbs near the Comets’ practice rink. Levi technically owned it, but when he was on his entry-level contract, he needed roommates to pay the mortgage. He’d missed out on the college experience, so he treated his residence as a glorified frat house, throwing post-game parties there instead of spending a fortune at the older players’ favorite nightclub haunt, Spades. 

Levi was only a year older than me but went straight to the pros after his draft, the same as Jaxon had. That put him going into his fifth professional year, whereas this season would be my first. 

Blake was older than us both but had spent a few years on the Comets’ minor league affiliate in Providence before being called up. He was still working hard to keep his spot and wasn’t looking to put down roots until he was sure this would be a long-term stay. 

The housing arrangement worked for all three of us.

“Tomorrow night?” I repeated. “Isn’t that the night of the ring ceremony?”

As champions, the entire Comets organization would be presented with commemorative rings at an event downtown. Levi had been a member of the team last year, so he would be in attendance. It didn’t make sense to throw a party at our place on the same night.

Levi smirked, accepting his drink from the bartender. “Call it an afterparty. The bunnies are gonna be hungry once they hear the news.”

Frowning, I stared at him. “What news?”

“Benji Mills is off the market. The most eligible bachelor on the team showed up with a girl and a kid that people are saying is his. Hearts will be breaking all over the city when word gets out. Gotta strike while the iron is hot.”

I blinked at him. Benji was one of Jaxon’s closest friends. How had I not heard about this? Although, thinking back, Benji had been notably absent at Jaxon’s summer celebration back home in Minnesota during his day with the trophy. 

Still, I was in disbelief. “No way,” I said, doubt evident in my tone.

Levi shrugged. “Saw them walk in myself. Chick didn’t look like his type.” He moved his hands like he was outlining a woman’s body, flaring out wide when he reached where her hips would be. “But I guess that doesn’t matter when you fuck up and knock her up. Your brother knows all about that.”

“Has anyone ever told you how stupid you sound when you talk about things you know nothing about?” I shot back. 

Was I often frustrated by being compared to Jaxon? Sure. But that didn’t mean you could talk badly about my family.

Yes, it was common knowledge that Jaxon and Natalie got married after Charlie was born, but most didn’t know that he had been in love with her for years—almost the entire time she was married to her ex. Charlie or not, he wanted Natalie. Knowing him, he would have moved heaven and earth to have her. That man worshiped the ground his wife walked on. I’d seen it firsthand. 

“Whatever,” Levi scoffed. “If I ever found myself in their shoes, you can bet your ass I’d throw enough money at it to make it go away.”

“Classy,” I muttered.

Visibly shuddering beside me, he breathed out, “Even the idea of being tied down to one woman is enough to give me chills.”

Levi didn’t care that women flocked to him because of his status; he used them right back. I had only moved in a week ago but was already dreading our bedrooms sharing a wall. If he could back up even half the number of bunnies he bragged about banging in a week, I was in for a rough ride. 

Better invest in quality earplugs now.

Sighing, I steered our conversation back on track. “So, this party . . . ?”

Clapping me on the back, Levi shouted, “Yes! I’ve got Coop spreading the word to all her college friends. Lots of fresh, young talent. You’ll have your pick.”

I hadn’t met her, but Coop was Levi’s Hartford stand-by. She came when he called, but as he pointed out earlier, he wasn’t a one-woman man. I wondered if she knew that.

“I don’t know, man,” I protested. “I just left the college scene. Not looking to take a step backward.”

Snorting, he replied, “You must not be fucking the right girls, then. Because the ones I’ve been with? They’re into some nasty shit. I hear they pick a lot of it up from books. And you won’t hear me complaining.”

Staring at him, I asked, “Books? What kind of books?”

Brown eyes darkening, he leaned in to whisper, “Dirty books. Good girls read their porn instead of watching it.”

I eyed him skeptically. “You’re telling me college chicks are wild in bed because of something they read in a romance novel?”

“Fucking right, I am,” Levi confirmed. “Spanking, anal, toy play, bondage, hand necklaces. They beg for it. And who am I to say no?”

“Hand necklaces?”

Levi bracketed his hands, coming toward my throat like he was about to choke me, and I slapped them away, causing him to laugh. “Get it? A necklace with my hands. They come so hard they choke the life out of my dick. Fucking insane.”

“You better be careful before you land yourself in jail. It’s all fun and games until a girl ends up with bruises in the shape of fingers around her throat.”

“Nah,” he countered. “If you’re leaving bruises, you’re not doing it right.” Placing his hand around his own throat, he demonstrated, “You push on the pulse points, cut off the blood supply. It’s not about leaving marks or crushing a windpipe.”

“Whatever you say,” I muttered. 

“Don’t knock it ’til you try it. If you want, I can ask Coop to point out the freakiest of the bunch. It’ll do you good to get your dick wet before the first day of training camp.”

“No thanks.”

I didn’t take bunnies to bed anymore. Not after Lacey dumped my ass in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip. At twenty-two, I wasn’t exactly looking for a love connection, so I didn’t even tell women my real name. I got my needs met but wasn’t looking for a relationship. Maybe someday, I would find a girl who could see past the sport I played to the person I was beneath, but I wasn’t holding out hope. The odds weren’t in my favor when the city I lived in idolized my brother and we happened to share the same face. 

“Suit yourself,” Levi said. “But either way, you’re the new guy in the house and on the hook for booze.”

Levi’s house parties were legendary. Half the student body of Hartford State raved about them come Monday morning. They put the frat house parties to shame. I could only imagine how much supplying the alcohol would set me back. I wouldn’t get my first paycheck until October and was currently living off my signing bonus. 

Sighing, I dared to ask, “How much are we talking?”

Waving a dismissive hand, he replied, “At minimum seven kegs, thirty bottles of wine, a couple of fifths of tequila, vodka, rum, and anything else you can think of. And don’t forget about the mixers.”

Jesus. The quick math in my head at how much all of that would cost was a staggering amount. I was suddenly very grateful that the team fed us during camp hours, but I’d be scraping by eating ramen for dinner for a few weeks, like a poor college kid. Either that or stopping by Jaxon’s house for a “family dinner” more often than I’d like. 

Levi must have seen the panicked look on my face because he said, “If you think that’s bad, be glad you showed up after they stopped making rookies pick up the tab for a team dinner on the road. Mine was over five grand, and I nearly shit a brick.”

That didn’t make me feel much better. At least, if I took this hit once we were on the road, I’d have an influx of cash in my bank account. And if I knew Jaxon, he’d have the guys take it easy on me. 

If this were my rookie initiation, I would grin and bear it. 

Maybe I needed to rethink getting laid to ease the pain. 

Welcome to the Connecticut Comets, kid.

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Chapter 2

Dakota

Noah skates hard across the ice. He pulls back and lets a slapstick fly.

No. That wasn’t right. 

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Noah glides against the smooth ice surface. He reaches back with his stick and swings at the puck with a smack shot.

No. That didn’t sound right, either.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Noah is racing to the puck. Another player tackles him to the wall, forcing the air from his lungs.

Jesus. That was even worse.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

The blinking cursor on my computer screen was taunting me. As if it knew I was a complete and total fraud.

I knew absolutely nothing about ice hockey. Yet, here I was, wasting my time on a venture doomed to fail from the start. My knowledge of the sport was derived from childhood movies. And it wasn’t like I could throw out terms like “triple deke” and “knuckle puck” without knowing what they meant or if they were even real things.

Why did I let Bristol convince me to write a hockey romance again?

Oh, that’s right. Because it was the hottest thing since sliced bread to hit the romance market, women couldn’t get enough of it, and I needed to keep the lights on.

That wasn’t to say my other books weren’t selling—they were—but I was looking for my big break. The one that would go viral and start trending, putting my pen name, D.D. Morgan, on the map.

I just didn’t get why it was so popular. 

Did these women not care about the reality that professional athletes were pigs? Using their celebrity status to get laid, not caring about the collateral damage?

Apparently not.

It was all too easy to brush that aside when you wanted to relax and slip into a fantasy, leaving the real world behind and getting lost for a few hours between the pages.

I envied that they would never get a peek behind the curtain of professional sports. 

Resting both elbows on the desk, I dropped my head into my hands and let out a groan. 

This was a terrible idea. I was better off scrapping it and going back to what I wrote best. I could bide my time, let my readership grow organically, and maintain my integrity in the writing world. The last thing I wanted to do was throw out a half-baked hockey romance and have the readers tear me to shreds. Some of them liked the idea of a handsome, muscular athlete taking them to Pound Town more than they liked the actual sport, but my pride would take a hit if I weren’t giving them an accurate portrayal.

“How’s it going in here?” Bristol’s voice permeated through the weight of despair settling over my brain. 

Peeking through my fingers, I asked, “What do you think?”

Entering my bedroom/office, she stood behind me, taking in the blank document. Sighing, she remarked, “I think you’re psyching yourself out and making this harder than it has to be.”

Spinning in my desk chair, I scowled at her. “That’s easy for you to say. I’m not the one who has been going to hockey games since she was a kid.”

Cocking a hip, she peered down at me. “And whose fault is that? I invite you to come with me to watch the Comets play all the time. My dad can’t go to every game. You know I have a free seat next to me.”

No way in hell was I attending a game with her, and she knew why. 

“Why can’t you just tell me what to write?” I whined. “I’ll give you a really nice credit in the acknowledgments.”

Bristol smirked. “Aw, come on, Dakota. If I did that, it wouldn’t feel like you earned it.”

Narrowing my eyes, I grumbled, “How do I go about ‘earning’ a new roommate?”

My beautiful redheaded friend threw her head back and laughed. “We both know you’d miss me too much.”

She was right. Bristol was my best friend. We’d met freshman year at Connecticut Central University, sitting beside each other in creative writing. She went nuts over the first piece I shared in class and had been my biggest supporter ever since. Without her, I wasn’t sure I would have fifteen novels under my belt at twenty-one. It felt nice to have someone in my corner, supporting me. Even if, right now, she was the biggest pain in my ass, demanding I write something that went against the very fabric of my being. 

“If you won’t come to a game with me . . . Maybe I have a better idea,” she offered.

“Oh, Lord,” I breathed out. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“So dramatic,” Bristol chided. “But I guess that comes with the territory when you have to plot ways to twist and turn relationships upside down before setting them to rights. I’m thankful every day that my writing comes from facts.”

Bristol and I had taken very different tracks regarding our writing careers. I veered away from college, throwing my focus into independently publishing romance novels while she was at the start of senior year, gaining a degree in journalism, hoping to someday report about the sport she loved so much. 

We both had a long way to go before we became household names.

“And your idea . . .” I prompted.

Clapping her hands together, Bristol bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oh yes! Tonight, Nix is hosting a party at his house. It would be the perfect opportunity for you to research hockey players’ lives off the ice.”

Nix—known to most as Levi Nixon—was one of the star players of the Connecticut Comets. 

It took every ounce of effort not to curl my lip at the mention of his name. I was not his biggest fan, and it had nothing to do with team loyalties.

Nix was a playboy, plain and simple. He lived up to the stereotype of professional athletes thinking they could have anyone they wanted and treating them poorly because they could. If a girl complained, they would simply threaten to move on to the next—if they hadn’t already.

Case in point: Bristol. 

She was over the moon in love with the guy and knowingly put up with his bullshit. I hated it for her. But she was happy—or at least, she claimed to be—and voicing my opinion would only drive a wedge between us. Bristol was all I had left in this world, without any remaining family, and I didn’t want to lose her from my life. 

“House party full of hockey players? Sounds like my worst nightmare.”

“Oh, come on. We’re celebrating, and you can do some research while enjoying free drinks.” She brought her clasped hands to her chest in a pleading gesture.

Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “What are you celebrating?”

A smile lit up her face. “The championship, of course!”

I might not follow sports, but it was hard to ignore when one of the city’s teams won a league championship. 

“That was in June. It’s September,” I pointed out the obvious. 

Bristol rolled her eyes. “I know that. But they’re getting their rings tonight. Fancy ceremony downtown, then Nix is throwing an afterparty.”

Something wasn’t adding up. “Why can’t you two enjoy a nice night out? Sounds so grown up compared to a house party.”

Chewing her lower lip, she explained, “I’m not going to the ceremony.”

There it was.

“Bristol,” I sighed.

Bristol was pretty, intelligent, confident, and kind. I couldn’t understand why she was content to let Levi keep her hidden in the shadows. She deserved so much more than he had to offer. 

“Dakota, don’t.” Her head dropped back so she was looking at the ceiling, knowing what I was about to say—or some version of it.

But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted better for her. 

“Doesn’t it bother you that he isn’t taking you as his date to the ceremony?” I asked.

Blowing out a breath, she lowered her chin to meet my eye. “We have an . . . understanding. You know that.”

Oh, I knew about it, all right. Their arrangement was loosely termed an “open relationship,” but one in which Nix fucked around all he wanted while Bristol sat home by the phone, waiting for him to call. He was the only one benefiting by agreeing not to be exclusive.

When I looked at my best friend, I saw so much of my mom in her that it scared me—pining for a man who would never love her back, letting that love blind her to his faults.

Then, a thought struck me like lightning, piercing my heart with terror.

“You’re being careful, right?” I blurted.

“Yes, Mom,” Bristol said, annoyance coloring her words.

“I just . . .” I let out a heavy exhale. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Bristol’s blue eyes softened. “I know. But I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

I wasn’t so sure but let it drop.

“Anyway . . . I think you should come. I’m spending the night, so you can bring your own car and leave whenever you want.”

She had a good point, as much as I hated to admit it. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this book if I didn’t figure out what made these guys tick. And if that meant parking my butt in the middle of one of their house parties, then so be it. But just this once. 

“I’ll think about it,” I replied. 

Throwing her arms around me, Bristol squealed in my ear, and I winced. “Yes! It’ll be great, you’ll see!”

Her definition of great and mine were not the same. 

Bouncing out of the room, she called over her shoulder, “I’ve gotta go get ready, but I’ll text you the address!”

Hearing her bedroom door slam down the hall, I sagged in my desk chair. 

I loved Bristol and only wanted to wrap her in bubble wrap, to protect her from the train coming down the tracks on a collision course with her heart. It was only a matter of time.

I’d seen firsthand how a life could be ruined by falling in love with an athlete.

My mom, like Bristol, had been sucked into the orbit of a handsome athlete. But instead of hockey, his sport was football. 

Hank Danielson, star edge rusher, met my mom while playing college ball at Austin University in Texas. She was one of his many conquests but the only one he managed to get pregnant. 

Hank was my dad.

Down south, he hadn’t much choice but to marry her. Not only that, with all eyes on him as one of the top defensive recruits in the draft that year, he couldn’t afford the bad press affecting his pick placement and how much he would make on a professional contract. 

It had seemingly done the trick because the Hartford Hawks picked Hank number three overall, and that’s how we came to live in Connecticut.

Of course, I didn’t know much about any of that until later on in life. Not until he left, blowing up our lives.  

Mom was the completely ignorant, blissfully happy football wife. Not to mention, trusting. That one had come back to bite her in the ass. 

She’d believed everything my dad told her. Whether it was long training stints in other states or not wanting us to sit in the family box at games because of the “toxic” culture, she never once questioned him. 

The reality was that he had a whole second family. That’s who was sitting in the family box on game days. That’s who he was with when he said he was “training.” 

One day, when I was ten, he came home and told my mom he couldn’t do it anymore. He came clean about everything—his mistress, their three kids, and the life they’d been living behind Mom’s back. He placed signed divorce papers on the kitchen island and left, never once looking back. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye to me. 

That’s how much we meant to him. We weren’t his “real” family, just the one he’d gotten stuck with.

The divorce had changed our lives. Hank gave us the house in the settlement, but that was it. No child support, no alimony. We were entirely on our own from that day forward.

My mom had dropped out of college when they got married, electing to become a stay-at-home mom. She had no marketable skills and was left with no choice but to wait tables while I was at school. Since the lunch crowd didn’t bring in much money, there were many times when I put myself to bed so she could work a double and cash in on tips during the dinner rush.

Even after all that, she wouldn’t hear a negative word about my father. She was still in love with him, convinced he would come to his senses and return home. 

She held onto that hope until the day she died. 

I would never forget the day halfway through my freshman year when I received a call from the diner where she worked. Her manager told me Mom had collapsed in the middle of her shift and been taken by ambulance to the hospital. 

Bursting into the room, I remember the relief that stole over me. She seemed fine. Weak, but fine. 

Then, the doctors asked me to step into the hallway for a moment. That’s when they told me that she had advanced cervical cancer that had spread to most of her vital organs, and she didn’t have much time left. Perhaps, if they’d caught it sooner, they could have done something to save her, but it was too late now. All that was left to do was make her comfortable in her final days. 

When I walked back into that hospital room, having learned the truth that my mom was going to die, I broke down in tears. Beckoning me to her side, she allowed me to crawl into the bed as she whispered against my hair that it would be okay. 

Nothing would ever be “okay” again. 

Three days later, she was gone, and in every way that mattered, I became an orphan.

So why would I choose to write romance after witnessing such a tragic “love” story for my mother?

The answer was simple: I wanted to honor her memory by giving my characters the happy ending she never got. 

My pen name was even an homage to her. I took my initials—D.D. for Dakota Danielson—and added my mom’s first name, Morgan, for the last name. Her legacy and belief in love, no matter how misguided, would live on through my work. 

I wanted to make her proud, so if that meant putting on my big-girl panties and walking straight into the lion’s den, then so be it. 

Hockey house party, here I come.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 3

Braxton

Jeez. We’ll be lucky if the cops don’t show up tonight.

Levi hadn’t been kidding when he said Coop would spread the word to the college girls about tonight’s party. The house was overflowing with young girls, and I had my doubts whether most of them were of legal drinking age.

I can just see it now. Disgraced Braxton Slate, being arrested for supplying alcohol to underage girls.

My dad would love that.

The booze was set up in our barely finished basement. And by barely finished, I meant there was drywall up, but the floor was still concrete with drains visible. At least that made for an easy cleanup come morning. If I made it that long.

Half of me wanted to bail and hole up in a cheap hotel for the night just in case shit went down, but the other half knew someone had to stay and be responsible. Because Levi wasn’t even around, and when he got here, I knew he wouldn’t be held accountable. 

That meant I was walking around with my head on a swivel, ensuring girls weren’t being taken advantage of in dark rooms by the few handsy guys who’d shown up. The odds were in their favor if they were looking to hook up with a drunk chick because women outnumbered the men ten to one. 

It wasn’t the free booze that had brought them in; it was the three of us who lived here, and I wanted no part of it. Blake, however, was last seen disappearing with three girls into his bedroom. 

I was probably the only professional athlete alive who wasn’t interested in the easy hookups that came with the territory. 

Whatever. To each their own. 

Dragging my ass back down to the basement after a full sweep of the upper levels, I kept a watchful eye over the crowd. I might want to separate myself from Jaxon, but there was no doubt he would be doing the same thing right now. He had always been the poster boy for responsibility but was even more so now that he had a family—and a teenage daughter.

A shudder rolled through me, thinking of my niece, Amelia, attending a party like this someday. I wanted to believe she was smarter than that, but peer pressure was a powerful force. The idea of someone taking advantage of her, plying her with drinks until her inhibitions lowered—or worse, drugging her—had both fists clenching by my side. 

That thought alone almost had me pulling the plug on the whole damn thing and kicking these people out of our house. It wasn’t worth it. 

Just as I was about to shut it down, I caught sight of a girl seated at the gaudy tiki bar along the wall. She looked so out of place that I couldn’t help but stare, instantly intrigued by what she was doing here.  

The first thing that tipped me off that she didn’t belong was her clothing. There were two styles among the women in attendance tonight—a skintight mini-dress so short that if they moved the wrong way, they risked indecent exposure, or ripped skinny jeans paired with a barely-there sparkly top, breasts on full display. This girl, however, was in plain black leggings and an oversized Connecticut Central hoodie that extended almost to her knees. 

She peered up, scanning the room, biting her lip before turning back to the bar. It was a brief glimpse of her face but enough to see she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. Yet another glaringly obvious difference from the rest of the girls gathered tonight. 

Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, but it was plain to see she fought against natural curls—loose tendrils had escaped, framing her face. 

Intrigued, I found myself drawn to her, making my way across the room. 

When I got close enough, I noticed she was writing furiously on a notepad, and my temper flared. 

Closing the gap between us in three long strides, I snatched the notepad away so quickly that it took a moment for her to realize it was gone as she continued to write on the bar top before turning and glaring at me. 

“Hey! Give that back!” she shouted over the music, her deep blue eyes flaring.

Jaw clenched, I gritted out, “What do we have here?”

“None of your business!” Her hands reached out to snatch it from my grasp, but I raised it above my head. 

She was a petite thing, so unless she wanted to climb atop the barstool she occupied, there was little chance of taking it from me. 

“We’ll just see about that.” Turning my back on her, I glanced down at the scribbling on the page open to me. 

No checking of identification at the door.

Frat party energy but with more money to burn. 

Orgies behind closed doors.

Spinning around, I glared at her. “What the fuck is this? You a reporter?”

“What?” She stared at me wide-eyed. “No! Why would you think that?”

Waving the notepad in her face, I challenged, “I don’t know . . . Maybe because you’re taking notes. Marking down incriminating details that could be used against the people who live here.”

Folding her arms against her chest, chin tilted up, she shot back, “And what’s it to you? Another one of those guys on the fringe, cashing in on the success of other men? Worried you’ll lose access to the free booze and accessible pussy if these barely legal parties get busted?”

Who the hell is this girl?

“Fine. If you’re not a reporter, then what are you doing? Because the evidence isn’t working in your favor.” I wasn’t backing down. Something wasn’t right here, and I would get to the bottom of it. For good measure, I added, “And you certainly don’t look like you belong here.”

She snorted. “You can say that again.”

Tearing the sheet with fresh scribblings from its bindings, I pocketed it before tossing the remaining pages onto the bar behind her. Those blue eyes dipped to the front of my jeans, and I watched the silent debate playing out on her face, trying to decide if she wanted to go in there after it.

Go ahead, sweetheart. Make my day.

When she hesitated, I pressed closer, caging her against the fake bamboo countertop. Gasping, she craned her neck to peer up at me.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy, and I had to bite back a smile.

Leaning in, my chest grazed hers, and I brought my mouth beside her ear. “Why don’t you be a good girl and tell me why you were taking notes at a party instead of enjoying yourself?”

A strangled noise escaped her lips, and I fought the urge to place my lips against her neck. She might be digging for dirt, but that didn’t dull my attraction to her. She didn’t try as hard as the other girls, and I liked that. Plus, she didn’t wilt under my undivided attention. 

She had a spark. And I wondered what that would look like if I stoked it into a full-blown inferno.

With how close we were, I could hear her throat muscles working as she swallowed. “I-I was doing research. I’m a writer.”

Pulling back, I searched her eyes for any hint that she might be lying. “What kind of writer?”

“Fiction. I swear.” Those sapphire depths never wavered. She was telling the truth. 

Slightly stunned, I took a step back, confused. “What kind of fiction would require you to take notes at a house party?”

She opened those plump pink lips to respond when, suddenly, she was knocked off-kilter by a redheaded ball of energy in a blue dress. 

“You came!” The redhead screeched, swaying on her feet. “I can’t believe it!”

Eyeing me, the tiny brunette grumbled, “Yeah, and I’m already regretting it.”

Following her line of sight, the redhead gazed over at me. Baby blue eyes that matched the color of her dress lit up in recognition.

Smirking mischievously, she declared, “I see you’ve met Double D.”

My brows drew down, scanning her companion. Sure, her upper body was hidden beneath a baggy sweatshirt, but I’d been pressed against her chest mere moments ago, and there was no way she was sporting double Ds under there. Maybe she meant she was the designated driver. That made more sense. Especially since her friend was visibly drunk. 

“Friend of yours?” I asked the brunette.

“Best friend!” The redhead replied.

“Then maybe you can vouch for your ‘best friend’ who claims she was taking notes about the goings-on here tonight for research,” I prompted.

Pale blue eyes widening, the redhead shouted, “Yes!” She danced to her own beat, singing, “She likes big books, and she cannot lie.”

“Oh my God.” The brunette groaned, covering her face.

Smiling at her embarrassment, I said, “Guess your story checks out.”

Lowering her hands, the brunette peeked at me. “So, does that mean I can have the page you stole back?”

Her gaze dropped to the front of my pants, and damn if my dick didn’t twitch. Folding my arms, I gave her a cheeky grin. “Stole is a pretty harsh word. Try again.”

The redhead snorted. “Look at him. Using words against you. Maybe you’ve met your match.”

Sparing her friend a brief glance, the brunette threw me a death glare before huffing, “I don’t know what you want from me. Give me back my notes, and I’ll leave.”

She might not know it, but that sealed her fate. If giving her back the page of incriminating details meant she would walk out the door—likely forever, given her current attitude toward me—I would do anything to stop that from happening.

Taking a deep breath, I gave her what I hoped was my least cocky smile. It was evident she didn’t know who I was, and that was a gift. Whatever hopes I had with this girl would be gone the second she discovered my identity. 

“Tell me your name.”

Blue eyes widened but she recovered from her surprise quickly. “No.”

Interesting.

The music pumping through the wall-mounted speakers sparked inspiration. “Fine. How about a dance?”

Those same eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Hell no.”

Before I could try for a third time, whoever was manning the sound system stopped the music mid-song, and the all-time classic song about champions blared throughout the enclosed space. I didn’t need to look to know Levi was making his grand entrance.  

The spitfire’s redheaded companion nearly fell off her chair, and I reached out a hand to steady her. She didn’t bother with a thank you before scrambling toward the basement stairs on unsteady legs. 

Tilting my head in her direction, I begged the brunette, “Please tell me she’s legal.”

“Barely,” came the muttered reply. 

All eyes were on the stairs as Levi descended like he was the king of the world, flashing his championship ring as every girl clambered to get closer, to gain a piece of his attention. I was half surprised he hadn’t rigged a spotlight in anticipation of his arrival.

Making his way through the crowd, he approached where I stood. And that was when I noticed the redhead in the blue dress hanging off his arm. 

She hopped onto the stool next to her friend, and Levi stuck his tongue down her throat. The brunette watched them with disdain, and I wondered if this was the first time those two had hooked up.

Coming up for air, Levi trained his eyes on the brunette, smirking. “Danny. Decided to drop the nun routine and join us for once?”

Nun routine?

Under her breath, she grumbled, “Don’t call me that.” Then, louder, she accused, “You’re late.”

Levi shrugged. “Can’t be late when the party doesn’t start until you arrive.”

Not sparing her any more attention, he resumed making out with the redhead. When he trailed his lips down her neck, he murmured, “Fuck, Coop. I’ve missed you.”

Ah, so this was the infamous Coop. 

“Nix, baby. I’ve been waiting so long for you,” she breathed out. 

The brunette shifted uncomfortably on her stool, watching the public display, which was turning more explicit by the minute. He wouldn’t really fuck her in front of all these people, would he? As Levi’s hand shifted beneath her skirt, I wasn’t quite so sure. 

Before I could pull my eyes away from what was quickly turning into a live sex show, I noticed what looked like a tracking tag affixed to Coop’s dress.

Huh. Wonder what that’s about.

I leaned closer to Coop’s friend, offering, “Want a drink?”

She shook her head, curls bouncing atop her high ponytail. “Can’t. I’m driving.”

“A pop, then?” I tried again. 

Chewing on her lower lip, she nodded. I led her over to the coolers in the corner, asking, “What’s your poison?”

Surveying the selection, she said, “I’ll take a root beer.”

My eyebrows rose. I’d gotten those for me, deciding early off that I would remain sober tonight. 

Reaching my hand into the ice, my fingers curled around the glass bottle. Popping the top, I handed it to . . . Danny? No, she didn’t seem to like it when Levi had called her that, but she wasn’t too keen on volunteering how she preferred to be addressed. 

“Thanks,” she said before taking a sip.

“Mind if I join you?” I gestured to another bottle in the cooler.

One shoulder rose and fell. “Sure.”

Uncapping my own bottle, I pointed it in the direction of Coop and Levi. “So, your friend . . .”

Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “Don’t get me started on those two.”

“Not a fan?” I asked.

She scoffed loud enough to be heard over the music. “You could say that. He uses her, but she refuses to acknowledge it. Deep down, she has to know he’s stringing her along, but . . .” She sighed heavily. “I think she’s so caught up in what he symbolizes that she chooses to ignore it.”

“And what exactly does he symbolize?” I questioned, curious as to her response. 

“Status, celebrity, wealth, you name it. Why does anyone lust after professional athletes?”

Stunned, I could only stare at the girl who listed all the reasons I actively steered clear of puck bunnies. 

“Doesn’t that mean she’s using him?” I challenged.

The brunette shook her head. “It would be if she was the only girl he was with.” 

I winced, recalling my earlier conversation with Levi about not being a one-woman man. 

She continued, “Hell, she wasn’t the only one tonight. She wasn’t the one on his arm at the ceremony in front of the cameras. Tells you exactly where she stands.”

“Does she know she’s not the only one?”

“Yeah . . . They have an ‘open’ relationship. But when I say that, it’s open on his end. She’s not fooling around with any other guys. If it goes on much longer, I’m afraid she’ll fall for him, and I know he’s going to break her heart. I'm pretty sure she thinks if she bides her time, he’ll eventually see what’s right in front of him and want to settle down. I don’t think he has it in him.”

She’d completely nailed him. Made me wonder how long he’d been stringing Coop along.

Thinking about her friend’s inevitable heartbreak had her drawing in on herself, and she took a step back. Desperate to stop the spiral I saw coming, I blurted, “Was she wearing a tracking tag?”

Deep blue eyes snapped up. Then, a smile curved onto her lips for the first time that evening, and it nearly knocked me off my feet. From across the room earlier, I could tell she was pretty. But unguarded? She was beautiful. 

And I didn’t even know her real name.

“She tends to get blackout drunk. At least with a tracking tag, if she can’t figure out where she is in the morning or loses her phone, I can find her.”

I gawked at her. “Seriously? Even here?”

She shrugged. “Levi’s not exactly the most responsible person. If she wanders off, I’m sure he just grabs the closest girl to warm his bed.”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t argue that point. Speaking of Levi, I peered over the brunette’s head and saw they were no longer in a sexually compromising position. The flush on Coop’s cheeks left no doubt that at least one of them had gotten off in the middle of the crowded basement.

Tilting my head in that direction, I remarked. “I think they’re done.”

Peeking over her shoulder, she breathed out, “Thank God.”

“Shall we?” I extended my arm, gesturing to rejoin them.

She sighed. “If we must.” 

Crossing the basement, the brunette retook her stool, reaching over the bar to grab her discarded notepad. Feeling bad about our initial interaction, I reached into my pocket and offered up the folded page I’d kept hostage. If her best friend was sleeping with Levi, I would have more opportunities to get to know her. I didn’t need to force it tonight.

Hesitantly—almost as if she were afraid it was a trick, and I’d pull it back—she reached for the paper. When I relinquished it easily, she cast her eyes downward. 

“Thank you,” she said so softly I had to read her lips.

Breathless beside her friend, Coop’s eyes met mine. “You taking good care of my girl, Braxton?”

The brunette’s eyebrows rose, and she eyed me skeptically. “You know each other?”

Coop smirked. “Everyone knows Braxton.”

Levi chimed in, “You could do worse, Danny. I lost my spot on the starting lineup to this fucker. Guess they couldn’t pass up on the headlines about the Slate brothers playing together for the first time.”

No one would believe me if I told them that the last thing I wanted was special treatment, so I replied, “Coach will put the right player where they need to be. I have no control over that.”

Horror filled the blue eyes gazing up at me. “You’re—You’re a hockey player?”

Jesus. The way she said it with such contempt had me stumbling back a step. 

Coop laughed. “Wait. Did you seriously not know who you were talking to? Freaking Braxton Slate, brother of Jaxon, the Comets’ captain? I thought you were chatting him up because of who he was. Oh, this is too good!”

Before I could speak, the brunette shoved off her stool, pushing past me. “I’m out of here. See you at home, Bristol.”

Confused by her hasty retreat, I grabbed her wrist without thinking. She spun around, staring at my hold, and yanked her arm away. I let it go quickly once I realized what I’d done.

“Don’t go,” I begged, sounding like a needy loser.

Gesturing a hand wide at the crowd dancing and drinking, she shouted, “Take your pick. You’ve got a house full of rink rabbits who came here just to fuck you. I’m not one of them.”

Without another word, she spun on her heel and barreled through the crush of people, disappearing up the basement stairs.

Stunned, it took a moment for her words to sink in.

Rink rabbit? It couldn’t be any more obvious that she wasn’t a puck bunny when she couldn’t even get the terminology right.

Now, I found myself even more intrigued. She wanted nothing to do with me the minute she heard I was an athlete. 

Wasn’t that what I had been searching for since the disaster with Lacey? Someone who wasn’t only interested in hitching their star to my wagon? Someone who could see beyond the sport I played to the person I was underneath?

And I’d let her get away . . .

Jolted back to reality, I stumbled through the mass of bodies until I reached the cleared staircase. Bounding up the steps two at a time, I hoped I would catch her before she left the house. 

Scanning the first floor, I caught a flash of dark curls bouncing near the front door. Shoving people out of the way, I was in hot pursuit, clearing the doorway in time to catch her hopping into a beat-up coupe before peeling down the street, tires squealing.

She might have gotten away this time, but I wasn’t going to let her go so easily. I would find out who this mystery girl was if it was the last thing I did. 

A grin crept onto my lips, and blood rushed in my veins. It had been a very long time since I had to chase a girl, and I’d almost forgotten how exhilarating it was.

Game on.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 4

Braxton

Pushing my bedroom door open, I groaned at the sight of empty plastic cups littering the upstairs hallway. The house was completely trashed after the party last night, but cleanup would have to wait. Today was the first day of training camp, and the team was expected to be at Comets Arena for media day by 9 AM.

Thank God it wasn’t a practice day because I was dead on my feet after hardly getting any sleep. And it wasn’t because of the music pounding through the walls until nearly 4 AM.

It was because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Reaching the kitchen, I was surprised to find it occupied. Red hair thrown haphazardly atop her head, Coop sat at the island, eating a bowl of cereal, clad only in a Comets T-shirt that was three sizes too big for her slight frame.

“Morning,” I mumbled upon entry, moving toward the coffee maker.

“Morning.” Her voice was scratchy.

“Levi around? You need me to call you a ride home?”

She shook her head. “I drove myself here. But thanks.” I sat down opposite her at the island, sipping my coffee. She stared at me unblinkingly for so long that I began to squirm in my seat. “Did we talk last night?” Coop placed a hand to the side of her head. “The details are a little fuzzy, but I feel like we did.”

I nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, I kept your friend busy while you and Levi . . .” 

Pale blue eyes widened. “Oh my God! I forgot about Dakota!”

Dakota.

Now I had a name to go with the woman whose face I couldn’t clear from my mind. But why had Levi called her Danny? That one, I still couldn’t figure out.

“Coop, can I ask you a question?”

Smiling, she replied, “You can call me Bristol. Everyone but Nix does.”

My brow wrinkled. “How do you go from Bristol to Coop?”

She shrugged. “My last name is Cooper. It was his counterattack to me calling him Nix.”

“Cute,” I deadpanned.

“Right?” She bounced in her seat. “He thought it would annoy me, but I secretly love it!”

Bristol went from hungover to hyper at the idea of having something “special” with Levi. She was a puck bunny through and through—the total opposite of Dakota.

“Anyway,” I changed the subject. “From my brief conversation with Dakota, I gathered she’s not into athletes.” Pulling on the back of my neck, I confessed, “She couldn’t get away from me fast enough once she learned who I was, actually. What’s her deal?”

Chewing her lip, Bristol mulled over how much to tell me. Guy code was one thing, but what girls shared was stronger. I knew that, especially after spending time with Natalie and her friends. They protected one another, locking away secrets and going to war when the occasion called.

“I can’t tell you the specifics,” she began. “But just know that it’s personal for her.”

Personal.

My blood ran cold. 

“Did someone hurt her?” I gritted out through clenched teeth. 

Bristol sighed so heavily her body shook from the force. “Yes, but not in the way you think.” 

Still unsure, I hedged, “So, there’s no ex I need to be on the lookout for?”

The snort that Bristol let out echoed through the kitchen. “Definitely not.”

Why had she said it like that?

I was pressing my luck but couldn’t help myself. “Do you think maybe you could give me her number?”

Her mouth dropped open. “You, Braxton Slate, are asking for Dakota’s number?” She let out a peal of laughter, gripping her sides. “This is too freaking good!”

“Why?”

“No reason!” She smirked at me. “As much as I would love for you and Dakota to connect, she would kill me. But . . . if I happen to pin our address to the fridge when I leave, it can’t be traced back to me. Maybe I left it for Nix. Who knows?” She winked. “Got it?”

Nodding in response, I replied, “Got it.” Then, I paused. “Wait, you live together?”

She took a heaping spoonful of cereal and placed it in her mouth, chewing before saying, “Yup. Best friends and roomies. Two peas in a pod. Ride-or-die for life. Practically sisters.”

Looks like I’ve got my in. Now, I just need to figure out how to play this so she doesn’t slam the door in my face when I show up.

“Did I hear that you’re going after the Ice Queen?” Levi bumped shoulders with me as we stood in line to get our headshots taken for the current season.

“Who?” I cocked my head.

“Danny. Who else?”

Turning toward him, I asked, “Why do you call her that? It didn’t seem like she liked it very much last night.”

He smirked. “Because she hates it. She’s trying to ruin the good thing I have going with Coop. Sure, I can get pussy on demand anywhere we go, but with her, I don’t have to work for it. I snap my fingers, and she comes running, legs open wide.”

“Charming,” I muttered. “I’m sure she’s only looking out for her friend.” My instincts demanded I defend Dakota.

“Yeah, well. Maybe she should mind her own damn business.” There was a hard edge to his voice before he softened. “Actually, this works out great for me. You keep her occupied, and she leaves me and Coop alone.”

If my hands weren’t inside thick hockey gloves, I would have clenched them into fists. I wanted to spend time with Dakota, sure, but because I wanted to find out what made her tick, what made her different from every other girl I’d encountered since high school. Not because I was doing Levi a favor so he could use her friend and get laid. 

Irritated, I challenged, “Don’t you think it’s wrong to string the poor girl along?”

Narrowing his brown eyes, he crossed both arms over his gear-clad chest. “I take good care of her. What more could she want?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know . . . Maybe a guy who is actually committed to her? Or one that she doesn’t have to worry about passing along an STD?”

“Hey! I’m clean!” Levi shouted, drawing the attention of some of our teammates gathered in line. 

“Look. I can tell the girl really likes you.”

“She knows the rules. I can’t be tied down to one woman when I’m always on the road. I have needs.” 

Raising an eyebrow, I challenged, “And she’s the only one you fucked last night while here in Hartford?”

Levi avoided my gaze, and I had my answer. 

A wicked grin curled on his lips when he peered back up at me. “You know what? When you can’t get Danny to put out, maybe I’ll let you have Coop when I’m done with her. From what I hear, she’s always had a crush on your big bro. You might be a cheap knockoff, but it’s better than nothing.”

That was it—the final straw.

I snapped, pinning Levi with a forearm to his throat against the concrete wall beneath the arena. Applying pressure to his windpipe, I wanted to crush him. He was a womanizing asshole who didn’t know the value of loyalty. I didn’t give a fuck if I had to find a new place to live. Hell, I didn’t care if I got kicked off the team at this point. I was dealing with enough shit in my head about being the poor man’s Jaxon Slate. I didn’t need any more reminders.

“Break it up!”

I was barely aware of the shouting surrounding us or the hands grabbing at me, trying to pull me off Levi.

Stepping back, he crumpled to the ground. A lesser man would have kicked him for good measure while he was down, but I was confident I’d gotten my point across. 

Someone turned me by the shoulders and began marching me down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk.”

Fucking Jaxon.

Before I could shove him off, Levi taunted from behind, “You handle your girl, and I’ll take care of mine.”

I spun on my heels, but Jaxon held me back, stern in my ear. “He’s not worth it. Trust me.”

Growling, I wrenched free of his hold, storming away, but he matched me step for step. Reaching the locker room, I threw my gloves into my stall, turning on him. 

“I don’t need my big brother coming in to save me. I can fight my own battles!” 

Jaxon stared me down with whiskey-brown eyes that mirrored my own. “I didn’t break you two up because you’re my brother. I broke it up because I’m your captain. It’s my job to keep the peace amongst the team.”

Fuck. I was overreacting because of my personal shit. It wasn’t Jaxon’s fault he was incredibly skilled at hockey. It wasn’t his fault that our dad expected me to be the sequel and that I disappointed him by never quite measuring up. And here I was, taking it out on Jaxon. 

Dropping onto the bench, I muttered, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Softening, Jaxon asked, “Care to tell me what that was about?”

Did I want to tell my brother that being compared to him and found lacking had set me off? Hell no.

“Not really.”

“Okay.” He dropped onto the bench beside me. “As long as you two can figure out your shit and not have it affect the rest of the team, I don’t need to know.”

“Great. Thanks for the pep talk, Captain.”

Jaxon chuckled. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Being on the same team?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out.

“We’ve been in Hartford these past few years but have both been so busy. I’m excited to spend some time together. We never got much of a chance when we were kids.”

I was like a moody teenager, mad at the world, but couldn’t deny that Jaxon was a good older brother. He made an effort to attend my games when he could, including me in his life and his family here in Hartford, but there would always be this distance between us. He might think it was because of our almost nine-year age difference, but I knew the truth. 

No matter how hard I tried, I would never live up to his legacy. He was the Slate the game of hockey would immortalize, not me. But even I could admit he deserved every accolade he received. It was just hard knowing you could bust your ass every day for the rest of your life and never come close to reaching the bar he’d set.

“You should come over for dinner tonight,” Jaxon offered.

It was a nice gesture, but I needed some breathing room. “Thanks, but I have plans.”

“With the girl?”

My head whipped around to stare at him. “What girl?”

Jaxon shrugged. “Levi mentioned ‘your girl.’ Figured if you had plans for the evening, they were probably with her.”

I sighed. “It’s not like that.”

His eyes searched mine. “But you’d like it to be?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t seem too interested in me.”

A corner of his lips quirked up. “But you can’t stop thinking about her. Am I getting closer?”

Dropping my head back, I banged it against my stall, closing my eyes. “Yeah,” I groaned. 

The smile in his voice was audible. “If your gut is telling you there’s something there, you owe it to yourself to give it a shot. Take it from a guy who has some experience in that area. And you can choose whether that advice comes from your captain or your brother. Either way, I stand by it. You don’t want to look back on your life with regrets.”

I already regretted letting her get away the first time. Hopefully, when I got home, there was an address pinned to our fridge.

Dakota had left in such a rush when she found out who I was—or rather, what I did for a living—that I didn’t want to come off as a stalker, showing up on her front door the very next day. So, I would take my time and carefully craft a plan before approaching her. 

Even without Jaxon’s advice, I wasn’t ready to let her slip away without discovering more about her. In particular, her aversion to athletes. 

That intrigued me more than anything.

And there was something to be said about the thrill of the chase. It had been so long that I’d almost forgotten. 

As a competitor, nothing got my blood pumping like a challenge. 

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 5

Dakota

Writer’s block was a bitch. 

Sure, it didn’t help that I was attempting to write something I had no clue about, and my last attempt at “research” had been an epic failure.

I still couldn’t believe I’d been chatting it up with a hockey player all night. The cocky way he took my notepad, demanding answers, then using his body to try and persuade me to confess should have been obvious clues. He was used to getting what—or whom—he wanted. 

Two weeks later, I was still cursing myself for thinking he was hot, picturing his face and body when writing the spicy scenes in my book—skipping around the hockey parts because those definitely weren’t flowing. 

Then, there were those words he’d said in my ear when our bodies were pressed flush. 

“Why don’t you be a good girl and tell me why you were taking notes at a party instead of enjoying yourself?”

The deep timber of his voice when he’d said that would’ve been enough to haunt my dreams, but it was the “good girl” that made me weak. 

I wrote romance for a living. I knew girls melted when they read about a guy calling them a good girl. A praise kink was not new. But realizing I had one? That sure as hell was.

Since I wasn’t writing, I spent most of my days reading. That’s where all this had started. 

I had been a bookworm since I’d learned how to read. The way an author could create entire worlds with words captivated me. Their characters came alive in my mind, and I fell in love. 

Books became my escape after the fallout with my dad leaving my mom. For a little while, I could forget my real life and get lost in a story. The library became my second home, where I went most days after school so I wouldn’t be alone while Mom worked.

The world was moving on from paper books at an alarming rate. E-readers and electronic versions of novels took over the market share as printing costs rose each year. But even as I sat with a thousand books on my own e-reader, there was nothing quite like the smell of a physical book. It gave me a comfort I couldn’t describe.

“Knock knock!” Bristol’s voice called from the hallway as she pushed her way into my room.

Bracing myself for her to invite me to another hockey event, I sighed. “What’s up?”

A grin split her face. “You have a visitor.”

I sat up on my bed. “What? Who would visit me?” Bristol was my only friend. Growing up, I’d preferred fictional characters to living people.

There was a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t like the answer. 

“Braxton.”

“Braxton?” My brows drew down. “I don’t know a Braxton.”

Leaning against my desk, she smirked. “Oh yes, you do. Tall, dark, handsome. You two were quite cozy over at Nix’s place. Or rather, their place.”

My jaw dropped. The man whose words echoed in my brain, whose voice now narrated every male character I read, was here? In our house?

Realization hit, and I narrowed my eyes at my best friend. “And exactly how did he find out where I lived?”

Batting her eyes at me innocently, she replied, “Beats me. Nix said he wanted to send me flowers, so I left my address on the fridge.”

I wasn’t buying that story for a minute. Nix wasn’t a romantic. He was down to fuck, nothing more.

“That’s funny,” I remarked. “I don’t recall a flower delivery.”

Bristol’s gaze dropped to the floor, and I felt bad for pointing out that Nix wasn’t the doting boyfriend she hoped he would one day become.

Snapping out of it quickly, her head snapped up as she clapped her hands in excitement. “Well, either way, Braxton must have seen it. Maybe Nix mentioned we were roommates.” She shrugged. 

I waved my hand in the direction of the door. “Send him away. I said all I had to say to him at the party.” 

Arching an eyebrow, Bristol challenged, “You mean when you ran away?”

Glaring at her, I shot back, “Well, if he had been upfront about who he was, then I would have never given him the time of day.”

She scoffed. “Girl, you might be the only person in this city who doesn’t know who he is. He won a championship at Hartford State, and his brother just so happens to be the biggest hockey legend we’ve seen in a generation. The Slates are quickly becoming American hockey royalty.”

“Royalty or not, I’m not interested in whatever he came here to say.” I crossed my arms so she’d know I meant business. 

Undeterred, she countered, “I know you have hangups because of your dad, but I think you’re missing out on an opportunity here.”

I snorted. “And what opportunity is that? Am I supposed to get down on my knees and thank him for the pleasure of his attention?”

Bristol giggled. “I mean . . . If the mood strikes. You could do worse.”

“Not funny.”

“I’m just saying . . . If you’re in desperate need of research to get the book off and running, he might be the key.”

Placing a pillow over my face, I let out a frustrated scream. Taking a few calming breaths, I set it down before saying to my best friend, “Anyone but him.”

She gazed at me with a confused expression on her face. “Why? He’s nice.”

I bit my lip, unsure whether to share with Bristol what had happened in that basement.  

Rolling her eyes, she huffed. “Oh, come on. Just spill.”

“He . . .” I paused. “He said something to me that night.”

Pushing off the desk, she sat on my bed, her face transforming from playful annoyance to concern. “What did he say?”

God, this is so embarrassing. 

“He called me a good girl.” My cheeks flamed as I said the words aloud.

Staring at me, Bristol didn’t blink for a solid minute before she burst out laughing. Rolling around on the bed, she gripped her sides. Finally calming down, she said, “Oh God. You really had me going there for a minute.”

I whacked her with a pillow. “It’s not funny!”

“Sorry.” She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. “Give me a minute to pretend to be indignant that the big bad hockey player offended you by calling you a good girl.”

Hugging the pillow to my chest, I said, “Who does that? Sure, fictional guys say it all the time, but flesh-and-blood men? Not a chance.”

Bristol cocked her head. “Sure they do.” She paused, thoughtful for a moment. “I mean, Nix does, but probably because he’s willing to try anything I read in a book.”

I grimaced at her admission. “Oh, Bristol. Please tell me you two aren’t re-enacting scenes from my books.”

Averting her gaze, she stood. “Fine. I won’t tell you that.”

“Gross. I may never be able to write another sex scene again if I have to picture you two in the act.” I shuddered at the thought.

Don’t worry. Sexy Hockey Boy will be hard to replace.

Wait, when did he change from Hot Hockey Boy to Sexy Hockey Boy?

Jesus. I was losing my goddamn mind!

Shaking my head to clear it, I said, “Regardless, I’m not interested.”

“Okay.” Bristol nodded. “You can tell him that yourself. He’s waiting for you in the living room.”

My eyes bugged out of my head, and my heart rate shot through the roof as I rose to my feet. 

“You let him into the house?” I whisper-shouted, uncertain how much of our earlier conversation had floated down the stairs from my open doorway.

“Why not?” She shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with him. And it’s not like he bites.” Bristol paused, an evil grin lighting up her face. “Or maybe he does. That’s hot as fuck.”

Rubbing both hands down my face, I groaned. “What am I going to do with you?”

She tossed me a wink. “You love me.” Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she gasped.

“What now?” Bristol was never more dangerous than when she got an idea in her head.

“I was just thinking . . . Maybe you could convince him to pop your cherry.”

“Bristol!” I screamed, promptly slamming both hands over my mouth in shock. 

Yep, I was a fraud on multiple fronts. I spent my days writing about couples who fell in love while having sex along the way, yet I was still a virgin. Not that anyone would know that from reading my books. I believed that research was key to my craft, so I read my fair share of erotica and watched lots of porn. Most things weren’t realistic, but I gleaned enough to make my scenes believable. 

Bristol wasn’t sorry in the least, offering, “Just saying. Would be a hell of a lot better than those bumbling idiots walking around campus with little to no experience. Those hockey boys know what they’re doing.” She waggled her eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”

I leveled her with a glare. “Subtlety isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

“Sooooo, are you going to greet your guest? Or should I send him up?” She rubbed her hands together gleefully.

“I hate you so much,” I whined.

“You’re the one that caught his attention, babe. Might as well use it to your advantage, whether you bone him or not.”

She had a point. If I didn’t figure out a way to nail down the logistics of the game, I might as well scrap this book. I had a notebook full of ideas, but silly me, I had already promoted this one on my socials and my readers were excited. Pulling the plug now wouldn’t do me any favors. Indie authors relied on word of mouth, so pissing off my fanbase could spell disaster for my career. 

“Fine,” I grumbled.

She hugged me tightly. “I’m so happy for you!”

I shoved her off. “I’m not hopping into bed with the guy. I’m only in it long enough to get an inside peek at the hockey life, and then I’m out. Got it?”

Bristol nodded her head enthusiastically. “Got it.”

Brushing past her, I descended the staircase slowly, like I was headed to my own execution. Behind me, Bristol bounced on each step, unable to contain her excitement. 

Rounding the landing, I saw the man I’d only had the pleasure of viewing in a darkened basement. The dim lighting had cast him in a dark and broody glow, but I wanted to moan at how pretty he was in the light of day. 

Dark, almost black hair was cropped close on the sides, left longer on top. Warm, amber eyes demanded I look directly into them. I wondered if they darkened when he was aroused, the same way men’s eyes did when I wrote them. 

His muscles were on full display with how well his clothing fit his athletic frame. Jeans hugged impressively toned thighs, and a T-shirt molded over the ridges of his chest and abdomen, barely containing his bulging biceps. I couldn’t have drawn him up any better in my mind, and a small thrill ran through me at the idea that he was the perfectly built book boyfriend. 

Why? Why was the first guy who’d ever made me weak in the knees at the mere sight of him an athlete? God was playing a cruel trick on me, putting him directly in my path.

He stood from where he sat on our couch, brushing both palms down his jean-clad thighs. Hesitant, he took a step forward. “Hey.” He looked mildly uncomfortable when I only stared at him in response. “I, um, I wanted to stop by and say I was sorry for the other night. I’m not usually a jerk to pretty girls, but . . .” He sighed. “I thought you were a member of the press. And with how much attention is on me at the moment, I couldn’t afford a story leaking about a rage at my residence with underage girls in attendance.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t throw parties,” I suggested.

Running a hand through that dark hair, he nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It wasn’t exactly my idea.”

“Do you usually buckle under peer pressure?” I challenged.

Bristol fake coughed beside me, forcing out, “Remember your research.”

“No,” he replied. “I’m usually a leader, not a follower. And if I’m being honest, I had half a mind to leave that night, but the idea that an unsuspecting girl might get taken advantage of under my roof had me keeping watch. I was about to kick everyone out when you caught my eye from across the basement.”

“How chivalrous,” I muttered.

He sighed. “We got off on the wrong foot.” Stepping forward, he extended a hand. “I’m Braxton. And before you ask, yes. Full disclosure, I do play hockey for the Connecticut Comets.”

Eyeing his offered hand like a snake that might bite me, I was shoved forward by my oh-so-lovely best friend. Caught off guard, I stumbled, falling right into Braxton’s arms. 

Twin steel bands tightened around my upper body, holding me pressed close to his hard chest. And for a moment, I allowed his warmth to surround me. 

What did it say about me that I wanted to nuzzle against him?

Get a grip, Dakota!

Peering up, mildly embarrassed, I mumbled, “Thanks,” before trying to draw away.

Staring down at me, he slowly relinquished his grasp, asking, “Are you okay?”

Nodding, I took a step back. “Yeah. Just clumsy, I guess.” I shot a murderous glare over my shoulder at Bristol.

“Well, I have to be going!” she chirped, brushing past me. Grabbing her purse, she called back from the door, “You two crazy kids have fun!”

The door slammed, and she was gone.

Closing my eyes briefly, I took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Could she have been any more obvious? Nothing was going to happen just because she was out of the house.

That deep voice spoke. “You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I still don’t know yours.”

I scoffed. “You’re telling me, Little Miss Subtle As a Sledgehammer didn’t slip you that info, along with our address?”

A corner of his lips quirked up. “Guilty.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, then,” I suggested. “You said you were sorry. I accept. Anything else?”

His shy grin turned into a full-blown, dazzling smile. His teeth were perfectly straight and white. Weren’t hockey players supposed to be missing teeth? Why couldn’t he be unattractive? That would make this so much easier.

“Like I said earlier, we got off on the wrong foot,” he began. “I’d really like it if we could have a do-over.”

“A do-over?” Skepticism seeped into my tone. “What would that entail?”

Shoving both hands into his pants pockets, Braxton rocked back onto his heels. “Can I take you out sometime?”

There it was.

I was probably the first girl he’d encountered who didn’t fall at his feet. He’d never had to work for it before and likely found that exciting, a novelty.

That’s all this was.

Meeting his eye, I explained, “I’m not into athletes. Sorry.”

“Ouch.” The smile never left his face as he placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. 

“But . . .” I hedged. 

A hopeful expression crossed his handsome face. “I like a ‘but’.” He winked.

Oh, Lord.

I gave him an exaggerated eye roll at the double entendre. “I would be open to a compromise.”

“I’m listening.” His gaze grew intense, and I fought the urge to squirm.

“As I mentioned, I write fiction. I’m currently working on a book that involves hockey.”

“Sounds interesting.” He smirked.

“I don’t know much about the sport.”

“Because of your allergy to athletes?” His teasing tone had me itching to abandon the whole idea.

“As Bristol so astutely pointed out before her departure, you might be the right person to help conduct some research on the subject. If you’re interested, that is.”

Those whiskey eyes sparkled. “If that means spending time with you, I’m in.”

I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Dumb jock, remember?” Braxton used both thumbs to point at himself. “I’m not capable of coming up with ideas.”

“Cute,” I grumbled.

“Why, thank you.” Braxton flashed those pearly whites.

Pinning my arms over my chest, I asked, “So, where would you suggest we start?”

“You don’t know anything about hockey?”

I shook my head. “Not a single thing.”

He scanned me head to toe, and I wanted to shrink back into myself. How did he do that? Make me feel exposed with a single glance?

“Can you skate?”

“Why—why would I need to be able to skate?” Panic stole through me. Maybe this was a bad idea. I figured he’d explain the basics and be on his way. I hadn’t expected a practical demonstration. 

“It’s a yes or no question, Dakota.” 

The way my name rolled off his tongue bordered on sinful. I was in big trouble. 

“Kinda? I haven’t been on the ice in years.”

Braxton shrugged. “It’s like riding a bike. You’ll be fine.”

“Debatable.” I eyed him. “You’re not thinking of trussing me up in all that gear, are you?”

He shook his head. “As adorable as you’d look, no. The game is fast-paced. Watching live, it would be difficult to keep up. At ice level, we can slow it down. I was thinking a private lesson would be a great starting point. Just me and you. A whole sheet of ice at our disposal. What do you say?”

I was out of options; I knew that. Unless I wanted to face public backlash for abandoning my current project, there wasn’t much of a choice.

Sticking my hand out, I said, “You’ve got a deal.”

We shook on it and sealed my fate. For as long as it took to nail down this sport, I would be spending time with Braxton Slate, hockey royalty. 

Now, all I needed was my brain and body to get on the same page. No matter what, I couldn’t fall for his charming act. I would not repeat my mother’s mistakes.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 6

Braxton

Going to Dakota’s house, I had intended to ask her out—cognizant that she wasn’t interested but willing to give it a try anyway. What I hadn’t expected was that she would ask to spend time with me, learning the game. It seemed almost a contradiction that a girl so vehemently opposed to sports would choose to write a book about hockey. 

There was more to this story, and I was hopeful that spending time together would help uncover the details—not only about her, but her choice of subject matter. From her notes at the house party, Dakota wasn’t looking to paint professional hockey players in a favorable light. 

It was up to me to change her mind. 

The season had gotten off to a hot start, with the Comets winning the home opener against the San Diego Surf, then a quick road trip to Manhattan, securing a victory over the New York Freedom. All eyes were on us as the reigning champions. The oddsmakers in Vegas had us as favorites to repeat. 

Back in Hartford after an overnight stay in New York, I texted Dakota.

Home for a few days before our next road trip. You have time for that hockey lesson?

Trying to play it cool when I saw those three dots indicating she was typing her reply, I threw my phone in my stall and headed out to practice. I didn’t want to seem too eager with an instant response to whatever she sent back. That didn’t mean I wasn’t desperate to know her answer. It was all I could think about as Coach Moreau ran us through drills, preparing us to play the Chicago Crush later that night.

Sweaty, with my muscles mildly achy, I went straight for my phone once Coach dismissed us to shower and rest prior to the game. Grinning, I saw Dakota had texted me back. 

Dakota: I guess. Do we really have to go onto the ice?

You either want the full experience or you don’t—your choice.

Dakota: Ugh. It’s not about what I want, but what I need.

Pick you up tomorrow at five? 

Dakota: I can drive myself. Just send me the address.

Sure thing. Dress warm. See you tomorrow.

Sending over the location of the Comets’ practice rink located in the Hartford suburbs, I hit the showers, unable to wipe the smile from my face. She might be fighting it, but getting my foot in the door was the first step. Whatever hangup she had about professional athletes, I was confident I could show her that not all of us lived up to the stereotypes portrayed by the media—or the ones banging your roommate. 

I had to stifle a laugh when Dakota showed up at the rink dressed in a winter parka and snow pants. When I said to dress warm, I had meant a hat and gloves, not like she was about to climb Mount Everest and would die of frostbite if every inch of her skin wasn’t covered. 

Taking my time, eyeing her from head to toe, I asked, “Are you going to be able to move in that getup?”

Glaring at me with brilliant blue eyes, she countered, “I can go home right now. Don’t test me.”

The last thing I wanted was for her to cut our “date” short. Maybe I was delusional, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this girl was special. And it was nagging at me day and night to find out why.

Holding my hands up in surrender, I backed down. “Sorry. But may I suggest ditching the snow gear? It’s chilly, but not frozen-tundra-level cold inside the rink.”

“You were the one who said to dress warm,” Dakota grumbled. 

Chuckling, I conceded, “You’re right. I did. I shouldn’t have been so vague. Word choice matters.”

Those blue eyes snapped up to mine and widened. “What did you just say?”

“Word choice matters?” She nodded, and I shrugged. “All I was trying to say was that you have to be careful how you use words and phrasing to make sure they have the right meaning.”

Blinking at me for a moment, she shook her head slightly as if to clear it. “Uh-huh.”

What was going on here? I tilted my head, hoping she would offer further explanation, but when she didn’t, I let it drop. 

“Can I help you with your coat?” I offered, outstretching a hand.

Stepping back, Dakota put space between us. “I’ve got it. Hands to yourself.”

Shoving both hands in my track pants, I made it clear I wouldn’t try to touch her again as she shed her coat. Beneath, she wore only a T-shirt. It made sense since it was mid-October that she wouldn’t think to layer with the winter coat. 

“The snow pants, too,” I commanded.

Dakota shot me a glare, her body tensing. “Is this a game? You purposely tell me to overdress so you can watch me strip down?”

Had she always been so defensive? From my conversation with Bristol, I knew she’d been hurt by an athlete. It wasn’t hard to believe she threw up walls to protect herself; I often did the same thing. 

Don’t get me wrong, I was definitely interested in what she had going on under those clothes, but she didn’t realize that I was more intrigued at the prospect of discovering the girl hiding beneath the mask.

“To prove it’s not my evil plan to watch you shed layers, I’ll go grab your skates. What size do you need?”

She sighed, and I watched as her muscles visibly relaxed at my offer. “I’m a size seven.”

“Coming right up,” I threw over my shoulder, already headed for the rental counter.

Telling the attendant what size I needed, I explained that I would be right back to pick them up. Making a quick detour into the pro shop, I snagged a few items for Dakota. Grabbing the skates, I returned to where she sat on a bench, already shucking her sneakers. 

“Here.” I placed the skates beside her feet.

“Thanks,” she replied, not looking up before shoving her feet inside and working on the laces. 

Noticing she wasn’t tightening them enough, I dropped the rest of the items I carried on the seat beside her, getting down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” Dakota asked, panicked, when I covered her hands with mine, halting her motions.

Staring up at her, our faces were barely a breath away with her bent over. Every cell in my body screamed for me to close the gap and capture her lips in a kiss, but I knew that would ruin everything. She wasn’t ready. And if I was being honest, I wanted more than a meaningless physical relationship. That meant playing the long game. 

A kiss now would mean game over.

“Braxton?” There was a question in her eyes. 

Clearing my throat, I forced out, “Your skates. You can’t leave them too loose, or you’ll hurt your ankles.” Daring to hope she might let me do this one small thing, I asked, “May I?”

Dakota chewed on her lip but nodded, removing her hands. 

Making quick work of the laces, I stood before I was tempted to do anything more. “All done,” I declared.

She wiggled her skate-clad feet before standing. “You weren’t kidding about tying them tight. I’m not going to lose circulation, am I?”

I shook my head. “Nah. If I haven’t lost a foot yet, you’ll survive the next few hours.”

“Hours?” Her eyebrows rose. “Can’t you give me a cheat sheet?”

A smirk crept onto my face. “Where would be the fun in that?”

Dakota narrowed her eyes. “Back to the games, I see.”

My next words slipped out before I could stop them. “Firefly, I get paid to play games.”

Mentally cursing myself, I braced for the backlash, but Dakota went silent, dropping her gaze. 

Knowing I was playing with fire, I tipped her chin up. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I overstepped.” 

Sad eyes stared back at me. “You know Nix calls me the Ice Queen, don’t you? Well, at least to my face. When he thinks I’m out of earshot, it switches to Frigid Bitch.”

Anger surged in my veins. “Fuck him. Is he the reason you hate athletes? For what he’s doing to Bristol, what he’s said about you? Please, please, please, don’t let him be the benchmark. I can prove most of us are nothing like him.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and I felt like the biggest asshole alive for making her cry. Why couldn’t I keep my big mouth shut?

“No,” Dakota whispered. “It’s not him.”

Cupping her face, a small thrill ran through me when she didn’t immediately pull away. “It’s not okay that he calls you names, either to your face or behind your back.”

She shrugged. “I get it. I’m not exactly his biggest fan, and I’d rather have my nose in a book than go out on dates. But that’s my choice.”

“That doesn’t make you cold. Within minutes of meeting you, I knew you had a spark. You didn’t back down. I like that about you. It’s refreshing.” Pausing, I confessed, “It’s why I couldn’t stay away.”

That admission broke the trance, and she pulled away so quickly that the back of her knees hit the bench, and she fell onto it with a thud.

“Anyway . . .” Dakota let out a nervous laugh. “Are you ready to skate, or what?”

Stepping to the side, I allowed her to stand. “Not quite.” Reaching for the pile of Comets branded apparel I had purchased at the pro shop, I held them out to her. “Figured we could reach a happy medium on appropriate clothing for the ice.”

Tentatively, she reached out, taking my offering of a hat and hoodie. Donning the hat, she fussed with it until she had it where she wanted it, her dark curls spilling out over her shoulders. Flipping the hoodie over, she caught sight of the name Slate written across the back, along with my number, eleven.

Head tilted toward the ceiling, she teased, “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

What could I say? There was something primal about seeing a girl you liked wearing your name and number. It was my subtle way of staking a claim on her.

“Would you rather freeze?” I challenged.

Eyes sparkling, she threw the oversized hoodie over her head, knocking the navy and gray winter hat slightly askew. 

“Good choice.” I threw her a wink. 

Skates were on my feet more often than street shoes, so walking in them was second nature. But beside me, Dakota practically stomped her feet as we worked from the lobby to the ice surface. Not gonna lie; it was kind of adorable.

Unlocking the door, I held it open for Dakota to step onto the ice. Nervously, she peeked at me before sliding her front foot onto the ice. I didn’t realize her mistake until it was too late. Putting all her weight on that skate, it kept moving forward while her back leg remained on solid ground. She dropped so fast from my field of vision it took a moment to process that she was at my feet, her body spread out in a split.

“Oh shit.” I dropped to my knees, pulling her from the uncomfortable position. “Are you okay?”

Wincing, she pushed off the ground enough to kneel opposite me. “Yeah. Guess it was a good thing I opted for leggings today. Stretchy pants saving the day from having my underwear on display.”

She was trying to deflect, so I leaned into it. “I mean, if you want to show them to me anyway . . . I won’t say no.”

Laughing, Dakota shoved against my chest. Rising to my feet, I helped her up. Learning from past mistakes, I stepped onto the ice first, holding my hands out for her to take. Fingers tightened around mine, and she wobbled as her skates slid beneath her. Pulling her into my arms, she didn’t protest. I wasn’t going to let her fall again.

Holding her close was comfortable. Too comfortable. My dick stirred, and I had to put space between us before I embarrassed myself. 

Steadying her with hands on her waist, I searched her eyes. “You good?”

Nodding, she let out a shaky breath. “Don’t let me go.”

With pleasure.

Tilting my head, I teased, “How long since you last went skating?”

Twisting her lips, she whispered, “When I was ten.”

“And you’re how old now?”

“Twenty-one.” Dakota dropped her eyes.

“Okay, new plan,” I declared. 

She eyed me skeptically. “I swear to God, if you pull out one of those plastic skating walkers that toddlers use, I’m outta here.”

I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing at the mental image of her hunched over, using a child-sized skating aid.

Since I had a firm grasp on her, keeping her from hitting the ice, she smacked me lightly on the arm. “Not funny.”

“Sorry,” I wheezed out. “Maybe you can do it later so I have something to remember you by when you kick my ass to the curb.”

“Might be sooner than you think, pretty boy.”

My laughter halted immediately, but the grin was stuck on my face. “You think I’m pretty?”

Dakota rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend you’re not a physically attractive man. That’s just a fact. Can we please get back to the task at hand?”

Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as I’d once thought. Attraction was a good starting point. I could work with that.

“Okay,” I agreed, giving her a little bit of the smolder. I could wear her down. Confidence was nine-tenths of the law. 

I released one hand from her waist, and panicked eyes met mine as Dakota reached out to grab my forearm in a death grip.

“You said you wouldn’t let go!” she cried.

“Hey, you’re all right,” I said soothingly. “I was only shifting so you could hold my hand. Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” Dakota asked cautiously.

“Unless you want me to lift you like a figure skater.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You can do that?”

“No. But I figured if you were really that scared, you wouldn’t mind being my test dummy.”

“Jerk,” she spat.

“Just laying out all the options.” I shrugged. “You good with a single hand?”

She huffed. “Fine.”

Easing her free hand into mine, I turned us so that we faced the same direction, side by side. Gliding a foot forward, I tugged Dakota along as her fingers tightened around mine and her legs wobbled beneath her.

“That’s it. Doing great,” I encouraged as we made our way down the length of the rink.

After a few minutes, she became more sure of herself, her feet doing less stomping and more gliding.

Peering up at me, she asked, “So, you really like doing this?”

“Hockey or being here with you?”

“Smartass,” she mumbled before clarifying, “Hockey.”

Well, if that isn’t a loaded question.

I blew out a heavy breath. “I suppose. It’s all I really know how to do.”

Dakota arched an eyebrow. “Really? You have zero marketable skills besides swinging a stick around and punching dudes out in a setting where it’s legal?”

A chuckle slipped past my lips. “Can’t remember the last time I got into a fight. I play a clean game most of the time.”

“From what I hear, it’s quite the blood sport. Very violent.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Fighting on the ice is usually strategic. Sure, there are times when two guys lose their tempers, having too much adrenaline coursing through their veins, and the only recourse is to drop the gloves. But other times, it’s about protecting a teammate or, in some cases, amping up your team if you’re down.”

Her progress on the ice came to a screeching halt, so I stopped beside her. 

“How in the world would fighting help a losing team? Don’t you get penalized?”

“Sure.” I nodded. “But when you get in a hole, morale takes a hit. Everyone gets down on themselves, and a fight provides a spark. Everyone starts to get excited, and more than once, I’ve seen a losing team come back to win after that.”

“Interesting,” she mused.

Tugging her along, curling along the edge of the ice to skate in the other direction, I turned the conversation back on her. “Why are you writing a book about hockey when you have no interest in the sport?”

Dakota stared at her skates as they cut the ice. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Can’t be worse than a guy who was just labeled as only being proficient at handling a stick.”

Her eyes snapped to mine, and I instantly knew she caught my double meaning.

“Okay.” She sighed. “People are nuts for them. I don’t get it, but I’m looking for my big break. And if I’m being honest, it was Bristol’s idea.”

My brows drew down. “Books about hockey are popular?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

I knew arenas sold out and cable providers cashed in on subscription services so fans could catch every game around the league, but books? This was the first I was hearing of it. I’d have to do some research on the subject in my free time.

“Well, if you’re willing to take the time to research your subject matter, I’m sure it’ll be great. I’d love to read it when you’re done. Since I had a hand in it and all.”

Dakota’s cheeks grew pink. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” I demanded. 

“It’s not your kind of book.”

“Why not? Because I’m an airhead who can’t do anything more than play sports?” There was a bite to my tone, and she almost stumbled back upon hearing it.

“That’s not what I meant.” Her teeth descended on her lower lip, and I bit back a groan. “They’re books for women, is all.”

I cocked my head. “You’re telling me women are losing their shit over hockey books?”

Nodding, she replied, “Like I said, I don’t get it. But any help you can provide would be appreciated. I’m a stickler for authenticity, so if I can’t nail this down, I might as well give up and start a new project.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” Leading her to center ice, I gestured to the Comets insignia beneath our feet. “This is center ice. You can see the red line cutting through it. This is where all the initial face-offs take place.” She gave me a blank look, so I amended, “Where they drop the puck between two players. It also happens here after goals. There are red dots around the ice where they occur other times.”

Dakota peeked around, using a free hand to mentally mark where they were.

Skating together, we reached the blue line. “Like the red line, the blue line is aptly named for its color. But there are two of them, one on each side. They designate zones. Inside of them is either your offensive or defensive zone. Between them is the neutral zone.” 

Her brow wrinkled, so I asked, “Are you still with me?”

“Yeah. Just wishing I brought a notepad with me. I have a feeling you’ve barely scratched the surface, and I’m trying to keep the terminology straight.”

“Look. You can pull up a hockey rink diagram on an internet search. If it’s not already labeled, I can help you do that, and we can create a glossary so you don’t get confused. I know it’s a lot.”

“You can say that again,” she said with a sigh.

Reaching the edge of the rink, I explained the final line. “Now, this is the goal line. That blue paint in the middle of it is usually where you’d see a net and is called the crease. The puck must cross the line inside the net to count. The whole puck, not just part of it.”

“Can I see a net?” Dakota peered up at me with curious eyes.

“Sure.”

Sitting her on the bench, I opened a door along the boards and pushed out a regulation-sized net, sliding it to where it would usually rest on the ice.

Retrieving Dakota, I brought her closer to inspect it. She let go of my hand to hold the crossbar, which rested at shoulder height.

“Wow, it’s big.”

“You ever seen a goalie in full gear?” I asked.

Shaking her head, she glanced back at me. “No. Why?”

“Goalies are usually big guys. You’re hard-pressed to find one under six feet. You throw on pads, and they take up most of this net. They call it a game of inches because you have to find the tiniest window and thread the needle, basically.”

Frowning, she mused, “This game sounds hard. Why would anyone play it?”

“Some of us don’t get a choice.” I meant to say it under my breath, but when her eyes widened, I knew I’d failed.

“Why wouldn’t you have a choice? It’s your life.” She eyed me quizzically.

“The world doesn’t always work in black and white, Dakota.”

“But this is your job, your profession.” She didn’t understand. How could she?

I opened my mouth, ready to ask her to drop it, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Digging it out, I almost laughed at the irony of seeing Jaxon’s name on an incoming text. God was having a really good laugh up there today.

Sliding open the text, I saw a picture message and a room number. Any animosity I had toward my brother vanished instantly, and I peeked at Dakota with a smile. 

“Wanna go on a field trip?”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 7

Dakota

Braxton was not at all what I thought he would be like. Sure, he had that cocky athlete swagger, but there was something deeper beneath the surface. 

First, he’d nearly knocked me onto my ass when he said that word choice mattered. As a writer, that was practically my motto. A tiny shift could completely change a sentence and have a different meaning. When he said that, it felt like he could see directly into my soul. 

Next, he’d ever so casually called me Firefly. I didn’t know where that had come from or why, but it was such a stark contrast to what I’d been called by other men that it stole my breath away. I was accustomed to pet names in fiction. Hell, I wrote them every day. But to hear one slip from his perfectly plush lips, aimed at me? He was putting my book boyfriends to shame.

Then, there was the way he instantly wanted to tear Nix’s head off for his not-so-clever nicknames. I had to fight not to swoon.  

And don’t get me started on how he had butterflies beating against my ribcage every time we touched. It would take all my effort not to want something more with him. Especially since he was already on board, flirting it up, flashing me that charming grin, and dropping subtle, sexy hints that he was interested. And let’s face it, he didn’t need to be subtle—that day he dropped by my house, he’d said as much. He wanted to take me out, and here I was, playing right into his hands. 

Braxton was dangerous. Even more so because he was disarmingly charming.

If my father had been anything like him at this age, I could see how my mom fell for his act—hook, line and sinker. 

But unlike her, I had the gift of foresight. It had only come at the expense of my mom’s dignity.

What I couldn’t shake was how distant he grew when I asked about his career.

From my experience, athletes loved to talk about themselves—their stats and how special being paid to play a game made them. The attention and fame went to their heads, further enlarging their egos. If the public ever got a peek behind the curtain, they’d realize these guys weren’t superheroes; they just happened to be physically gifted. 

Braxton had said something about not having a choice when it came to playing. How could he act as if he had been forced into a professional hockey career when tens of thousands of hopefuls never reached that point?

Something was lurking beneath that happy-go-lucky façade, and I wanted to figure out what. Braxton was more complex than I’d initially thought—a puzzle that needed solving.

Confused didn’t begin to cover what I was feeling right now, and that was before throwing in a bare-bones hockey explanation that had my head swimming, trying to keep it all straight. 

Braxton was gearing up to shut down my line of questioning about his career when he received an incoming text message. Pausing to read it, his expression changed from one of dread to one of pure joy. 

Smiling at me, he asked, “Wanna go on a field trip?”

This guy was giving me whiplash. 

Stunned by the sudden shift, I gestured my hand around the cold ice rink. “Aren’t we already on one?”

Chuckling, Braxton nodded. “We are. But what if I told you that where we are going might help your research? Don’t you need to see inside the private lives of hockey players?” He smirked. “And not just the single ones, like yours truly?”

Wary, I sighed as I already had insider knowledge of football players’ lives. “Probably.”

“Then, come on!” Without warning, he picked me up and skated fast across the ice to reach the door we’d left open. 

Placing me on my feet once we reached solid ground, Braxton dragged me into the lobby. He was practically giddy, the smile on his face never slipping as he dropped to his knees and untied my skates. Whatever had him so excited erased any semblance of boundaries between us as he tugged my feet out of the skates and slipped my sneakers onto them like I was a freaking fairytale princess with a glass slipper.

I barely had time to grab my coat before he was tossing my rental skates at the attendant behind the desk and tugging me into the cool October air.

“My car’s this way,” Braxton explained, his grip on my hand firm but soft. 

Trying to slow his progress, I dug my heels into the pavement. “I drove myself here, remember?”

“I’ll bring you back later,” he brushed me off.

“Where are you taking me?” My words came out breathless as I ran to keep up with him.

Whiskey eyes sparkling beneath the parking lot lights, excitement vibrated through his body where our hands touched. “It’s a surprise.”

His joy was infectious, and I found myself laughing. “Okay.”

Was I insane for going with him blindly? Probably. 

But I was curious about the man who had me questioning everything I’d ever known about athletes. I wanted to believe he was different—an exception to the rule. And if I was going to uncover his true self, that required spending more time with him. 

For research, of course.

As we pulled into the parking lot of Hartford General Hospital, my entire body tensed. Thankfully, it was dark outside, and Braxton didn’t notice. 

What were we doing here? He had mentioned something about players' private lives, but why did that mean visiting the hospital? And not just any hospital, but this one in particular?

Oblivious to my distress, Braxton swung the passenger door open, gripping my hand and hauling me toward the automatic sliding doors at the entrance. The closer we got to crossing the threshold, the higher my panic ratcheted up. 

Steps away from the doors, I froze. My heart beat out of my chest as sweat gathered along the back of my neck. 

Surprised at our sudden halt in progress, Braxton peered back at me. “Dakota?”

I didn’t have words as dark spots swam in my vision. Releasing his hand, I bent over, trying not to pass out as my breathing accelerated. 

“Hey.” I felt rather than saw the hands cupping my face. “Dakota, I need you to take deep breaths.”

I shook my head, my voice was barely a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I’m right here.” 

Thumbs stroked my cheeks, spreading around wetness. I was crying. Great.  

“I’ve got you. Breathe with me. In, two, three. Out, two three.” The tenor of his voice was soothing, and my body responded to his command. 

“That’s it. Just like that,” he coaxed.

My vision cleared, and I was met with the sight of Braxton’s handsome face marred with concern. Blinking rapidly to clear the tears, I pulled back, embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry.” I stood upright.

Sensing my need for space, Braxton shoved both hands into his pockets. “No need to apologize. I’ve had a panic attack before.”

Shocked, I stared at him. “You?”

He shrugged. “I’m human, just like you. We all have our triggers.”

Who was this guy?

Shuffling on his feet, he asked cautiously, “You okay?”

I shook my head. “Not really.” Dropping my eyes, I confessed, “My mom died in this hospital.”

“Aw, shit. I’m so sorry, Dakota. I had no idea.” His hand reached out to grasp mine. 

Fresh tears welled in my eyes. Three years later, the pain of losing her hadn’t dulled. 

“She was all I had,” I whispered.

Braxton pulled me into a hug, and I let him hold me. He was gentle and kind, a stark contradiction to all I knew of men. His embrace was comforting when I felt alone, mentally transported back to the moment when I lost my mom. 

“I feel like an asshole. I should have told you where we were going. I just got so caught up . . .” His words trailed off. 

Stepping out of the warmth of his arms, I gave him a shy smile. “It’s not your fault.”

Ducking his head, I could tell he didn’t know what else to say. I understood. Until Mom passed, words of comfort toward someone who’d lost a parent felt hollow. You couldn’t put yourself in their shoes. I wouldn’t wish this type of pain on my worst enemy.  

When Braxton peeked over his shoulder, I was reminded he’d come here for a reason tonight. 

“You have to go up, don’t you?” I asked quietly.

Eyes meeting mine, he nodded. “Yeah, I do. But I can take you back to your car first.”

He’d been so excited at the rink. Whatever lay in wait inside couldn’t be a sad occasion. 

That gave me strength, and I shook my head. “No, it’s fine.”

“No, really, Dakota—”

Not letting him feel sorry for me a moment longer, I stepped past him and through the sliding doors. Spinning around, I held my arms open wide. “See? I did it.”

Braxton’s brows drew down. He knew I was pushing down the hurt for him. 

“You coming?” I prompted. “I don’t really know where I’m going.”

His body visibly shook with the force of a heavy exhale. “Yeah.”

Striding inside, he took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as he led me toward the bank of elevators in the lobby. 

Once inside, he pressed the button for the fourth floor and turned to me. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It hurt too much.

The metal doors slid open, revealing a brightly colored floor. It was a stark contrast to the cold and clinical space Mom had occupied in her final days. Hand in hand, we stepped out, and I saw a mural with a stork carrying a blanket containing a baby in its beak. We were on the maternity floor. Someone must’ve had a baby. No wonder Braxton had been so excited when he received the text at the rink.

Stopping at the nurse’s station, Braxton asked, “Room 413?”

The helpful nurse pointed down the hall with directions, and off we went. Reaching the room, Braxton knocked gently before cracking the door open. 

A feminine voice came in reply. “Come in!”

Pushing the door fully open, we were initially met with a curtain obscuring our view of the occupant. Braxton walked confidently past the curtain, with only a backward glance when I slipped my hand from his hold. Whoever was inside was a stranger to me, and I didn’t want to intrude, electing to remain partially hidden—still able to see inside from my position.

There was a blonde woman in the hospital bed. Her hair was pulled up in a bun that had seen better days, but a smile split her face when chocolate-brown eyes landed on Braxton.

“Uncle Braxton is here!” she exclaimed as he made a beeline for her outstretched arms and hugged her.

Uncle? Was this his sister? Why hadn’t he said something?

Because you’re not together. He’s your research project, and you’ve made that point abundantly clear.

Pulling back from their embrace, Braxton asked the woman, “What happened to everything being set up for next week, Nat?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Oh, you know how it goes. Stop in this afternoon to meet Nate, my brand-new nephew—and namesake, I might add—born this morning, and have my water break while I’m visiting. And it was a damn good thing we were already in the building. There was barely time for an epidural, and if I didn’t get one, Jaxon’s vasectomy would’ve switched to a castration.”

“Yikes.” He chuckled. “So, Amy’s here, too?”

Nat nodded. “It was quite the scene. Liam sprang into action, rushing out the door to make sure someone was home for the kids. Lucy and Preston would have never made it in time with rush-hour traffic, and Addy was still above the Atlantic on her way over.”

“You could have called me.” Hurt filtered into Braxton’s voice.

She touched his arm. “Honestly, there wasn’t time.”

Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. “So, same birthdays?” He stepped back, revealing a shirtless man in an armchair near the window, a baby resting on his chest.

I nearly stumbled back upon seeing him. It wasn’t that he was shirtless, though his muscular chest and arms were impressive. It was the striking resemblance to Braxton that caught me off guard. He was older, with longer black hair, but their faces were identical. It was like staring into the future. There was no denying which of the pair Braxton was related to. Jaxon, I believe his name was, had to be his brother. 

“Can you believe it?” Nat’s laughter filled the room. 

“Well, you are best friends who live next door to each other. Seems fitting,” Braxton mused as he made his way over to Jaxon.

Leaning in, he pulled the cap off the baby to reveal a shock of jet-black hair. “So, who do we have here?”

Jaxon beamed down at the baby on his chest. “Meet Maxim Michael Slate.”

Braxton’s thumb stroked the cheek of the sleeping baby. “Hey, Max.”

Nat called over, “Jaxon finally got his boy.”

Frowning, Jaxon said, “I have two boys at home.”

Waving a dismissive hand, Nat replied, “You know what I mean. Can’t deny those Slate genetics. Hockey is in the blood.”

If I hadn’t been watching closely, I wouldn’t have noticed how Braxton’s neck muscles tensed and his jaw clenched before drawing back from his brother. 

What was that about? 

“Why don’t you introduce us to your guest, Braxton,” Nat encouraged, and I startled, realizing I’d been caught staring. 

Braxton’s tight-set jaw relaxed when he turned to look at me, a smile easing onto his lips. When he held his hand out, I ventured forth from my hiding spot behind the curtain, heat creeping onto my cheeks.

“Sorry. I was along for the ride when Braxton got the news. Didn’t want to intrude on your family moment.” I ducked my head.

“The more, the merrier,” Nat chirped. “And we’ll forgive Braxton’s bad manners for getting caught up in the excitement of the day.” She placed a hand on her hospital gown-clad chest. “I’m Natalie.” The same hand gestured to the man in the chair. “And that’s my husband, Jaxon. He’s Braxton’s brother.”

You’d have to be blind not to figure that out. They could be twins.

Braxton smiled down at me by his side before addressing his sister-in-law. “This is Dakota.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up. “Ooh. Dakota. That’s a pretty name; unique.”

“We can name the next one that,” Jaxon called over from his seat.

Eyes widening almost comically, her head whipped to stare at him, shrieking, “Next one?! What kind of drugs did they give you? Because whatever it was sounds a hell of a lot better than what I got, that’s hardly touching the feeling of being kicked in the crotch by a steel-toed boot.”

Jaxon bit his lower lip, his chest shaking with the effort it took not to laugh at his wife.

Natalie turned to us, musing, “Maybe it hurt more this time because I insisted on watching. And let me tell you, that was a big mistake.” She held up her hands, creating a large circle between them where her fingers didn’t quite touch. “Like . . . really big.” Her eyes went wide in emphasis.

Braxton leaned over to whisper, “She might complain about the painkillers, but they must be good enough. She’s not usually this unfiltered.”

“Uh-huh.” I stood there in shock at the picture she painted. 

Not sensing the discomfort she created, Natalie continued, “Although, I’d take that any day over what they did to poor Amy. Sliced her wide open to get that kid out.” She wrinkled her nose. “But at least everything is still nice and tight down there for her.”

Note to self—never ever write a childbirth scene. Sounds fucking gruesome.

If I was this shell-shocked hearing about it, there was no way I was throwing myself on the front lines of that research. And I wasn’t about to offer up my body to experience it firsthand, either.

Jaxon chuckled, taking in my expression of horror. “Don’t worry. Everything goes back to normal. I’ve verified it myself.” He threw in a wink for good measure. “Many times.”

That snapped Natalie out of it, and she yelled, “Jaxon! Inappropriate!”

Braxton and I burst out laughing. She had no clue that, moments prior, she was giving a graphic description of the “miracle” of birth, then turning around and reprimanding her husband for following suit.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me? This is more entertaining than reality television,” Braxton said to me.

Smirking up at him, I teased, “Yeah, with a side of nightmare fuel.”

He winked. “This is true.”

A phone alarm went off somewhere nearby, and Jaxon stood to silence it. “Gotta keep on top of the meds,” he explained. 

“Yeah, that’s just what she needs,” Braxton snickered under his breath.

Jaxon placed baby Maxim inside a glass-looking crib and went to work bundling him in a blanket. Wrapped up tight, he handed the baby to Braxton.

“Here you go, bud. Don’t drop him.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro,” Braxton shot back.

“Be back in a few,” Jaxon said over his shoulder on his way out of the room.

“Jaxon!” Natalie called out. “You can’t go out in the hallway half naked!”

Flashing a cheeky grin at his wife, he retorted, “Funny thing about a hospital. Pretty much the only place without a ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule.” And with that, he was gone from the room.

Braxton bounced the infant in his arms, and I couldn’t help but stare. He looked so at ease, the smile on his face blinding. 

Catching me staring, his whiskey eyes darkened. What was going on in that pretty head of his?

“Come, let’s sit for a minute,” he suggested, walking to the bench seated against the giant pane-glass window. 

Settling beside him, I peeked at the baby. His little face was scrunched up in sleep, pink cheeks rounded. He was kinda cute. 

“Want to hold him?” Braxton offered.

Sliding away from him down the bench, I protested, “Oh no. I’m good.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow. I could see what he was thinking. Most women went gaga for babies, and he was wondering why I would decline.

Chewing on my lip, I confessed, “I’ve never held a baby before.”

“Never?” His voice rose in disbelief.

I shrugged. “Don’t really have any younger brothers or sisters.” At least that I knew about when they were babies. “Or little cousins. No friends with babies either.”

Natalie’s voice filtered over from the bed. “You’re not alone. First time I held a baby, it was my own. But I’m willing to bet I was a bit younger than you when I had her.”

My eyes snapped up to where she rested. Did she say younger than me? The idea was unfathomable that I would have a child at my age, let alone younger. 

Guess you’re forgetting how young your parents were when they had you. 

How old was Braxton’s brother? If I had to guess, maybe early thirties? That would be quite an age gap between them if Braxton were just starting his career.

Natalie referenced a girl, but Jaxon had mentioned two boys besides the one in the room with us now. So, they had at least four kids, the oldest being born when they were young. Maybe they’d had a whoopsie like me but stayed together. Was this what it might have been like if my dad had actually loved my mom?

Braxton spoke to Natalie, jarring me from my thoughts. “You know, Nat, if this whole hockey thing doesn’t work out, Jaxon could have a future on the line at a quick-service Mexican restaurant. This little guy is a tightly rolled burrito.”

“Maybe a good retirement plan,” she joked back, and they both laughed.

Turning to him, I studied his face, remarking, “I can’t believe how much you look like your brother.”

Braxton stiffened beside me, but Natalie drew my attention. “Tell me about it.” He shot her an unamused look, and she threw her arms up. “What? It’s true and freaky as hell for me.” She addressed me. “I met Jaxon when he was a touch younger than Braxton, so it’s like looking at the man I love from the past. Although, they have switched hairstyles. Jaxon had longer hair when he was younger, but it was short, like Braxton’s, when we got together. Now that he’s grown it out again, Braxton decided to cut his short.”

Surprised, I turned to Braxton. “You had long hair? As long as your brother’s?”

“Longer,” he gave me a one-word answer and nothing more as tension radiated off him in waves.

I couldn’t understand what had upset him. Did he not like his brother? They seemed friendly enough, but what did I know about sibling dynamics? My half-siblings and I had never met in person. I imagined my father’s mistress-turned-second-wife knew about me, but they were little kids when he left my mom, all three younger than me. Maybe they didn’t know I existed. Even though they were innocent in the destruction of our lives, I wasn’t sure I would be open to a relationship should they ever reach out. They represented my dad’s “real family,” even though we were the legal one. His heart lay with them, and we were the inconvenience—end of story.

A blonde nurse in pale pink scrubs walked into the room, grinning as she declared, “I’ve got a half-naked hockey star roaming my hallways, sending the nursing staff into cardiac arrest. Anyone in here know anything about that?”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “I tried to stop him.”

“Yeah, well. Joke’s on him now. He’s out there shirtless, signing autographs for all the dads on the floor.”

I cringed. There was nothing my father hated more than fans swarming him. Sure, he loved the celebrity status and recognition, but he felt it was beneath him to talk to the people who were the reason he had a job. No fans, no sports. Simple fact. I was sure Jaxon would be in a mood when he returned. 

“If I know him, he’s giving them free tickets, too.” Natalie smiled.

What?

“Of course he is,” the nurse replied. “Didn’t you know having a baby on the same day makes them all best bros for life?”

The women laughed, and I was more confused than ever. Had I stepped into a parallel universe when I crossed the hospital threshold?

The nurse turned her uniquely pale green eyes on us, and they sparkled with recognition. “Hey! I know you!”

Stunned, I stared at the woman, having never seen her before in my life. 

Braxton spoke beside me, “Hey, Liv.” Amusement colored his tone. “Have a fun day?”

Liv’s heavy exhale blew flyaways from her face. “Busy, that’s for sure. I didn’t wake up today thinking I’d be in the room for both Amy and Natalie when they delivered.”

With his hands full, Braxton tilted his head to the nurse, explaining, “Liv is Benji’s, one of our teammates, partner. If you haven’t guessed, it’s a tight-knit group.”

This woman was married to a hockey player? 

She was pretty, but her pear shape was a stark contrast to the model-thin ladies you expected athletes to go for. My mom had put on some weight after I was born, and I wondered if that was part of the reason my father had searched for alternative companionship.

Not only did Liv not look the part, but she was working? My brain was working overtime, trying to process how this brief glimpse into players’ private lives contradicted everything I knew about professional athletes.

Liv smiled at us, gesturing a hand. “So, how long have you two been together?”

I sputtered, “Oh . . . No, we’re not—”

Braxton cut me off. “We’re friends.”

Cheeks flushing, Liv smacked her forehead. “There I go again, putting my foot in my mouth. Seems to be all I can do lately. Sorry about that. You were wearing Braxton’s number on your sweatshirt, and I just assumed.”

Glancing down, I realized I was still wearing the hoodie Braxton had bought me at the rink. And damn, if it weren’t the softest material I’d ever felt against my skin. 

“I’m helping Dakota with some research for her book,” Braxton told her. “We were at the rink when Jaxon texted about Max.”

Natalie’s brown eyes lit up. “You write books?”

I dropped my gaze to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Anything I might have read? I love to read.”

Peering up, I shook my head. “Probably not.”

Braxton explained, “This new one is about hockey. Or has hockey players in it? Either way, Dakota doesn’t know much about the sport, so I’m helping her out with the logistics.”

Liv and Natalie looked at each other, their lips turning up, and I could tell they knew exactly what kind of book I was writing. 

“Hockey in fiction is all the rage right now,” Natalie mused with a smirk.

Braxton gawked at her. “Why? I still don’t get it!”

Laughter from the two women filled the air, and I couldn’t help but join in. Poor Braxton had no idea he was assisting me in objectifying men like him who played his sport. Thankfully, their spouses seemed to have a sense of humor about it. 

“Is this some kind of girl-code thing?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

Shaking his head, mischief slid over his features. “Challenge accepted. I’m going to figure it out.”

I couldn’t deny he was cute. Feeling flirty—only God knows why—I teased him by motioning with my hand that I was zipping my lips and throwing away the key. The heat in his eyes intensified, and I felt it in my core. 

You’re asking for trouble, Dakota.

Max let out a wail, drawing Braxton’s attention. 

Natalie sighed. “He’s probably hungry.”

Standing, Braxton placed the baby in her waiting arms. “And I think that’s our cue to leave.”

Liv peeked down at the baby. “I’ll go grab those meds before I clock out. I won’t be here tomorrow, but I’ll pop over in a few days to see how you guys are doing. Let us know if you need help getting Beau to hockey or just need him out of your hair. We’re always happy to have him.”

“Thanks, Liv. Four was already a handful. Five will be an adjustment.”

Did she say five? 

Liv headed for the door, smiling over her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Dakota!”

“You too,” I called back. 

Braxton tilted his head, indicating we should follow, so I stood, saying to Natalie, “Congrats. Your baby is beautiful.”

She smiled down at the bundle in her arms. “Thanks. I hope we get to see you again soon.”

“Maybe.”

Following Braxton into the hallway, we saw that Jaxon was still at the center of a crowd, shirtless and smiling. He gave a little wave when he saw us leaving, which Braxton returned as we made our way to the elevator.

Stepping inside, I asked in disbelief, “Your brother has five kids?”

Braxton moved his head from side to side. “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“Natalie has three older kids from her first marriage. Only the baby, Max, and my niece, Charlie, are biologically Jaxon’s. However, he did adopt the older three last fall. To him, there is no difference. They’re all his.”

My eyebrows rose. There they went again, blowing the stereotypes right out of the water. What if they were exceptions to the rule? A unicorn group of athletes that bucked the trend of being self-absorbed assholes skating through life on good looks and physical strength?

There was only one way to find out. I would have to spend more time with Braxton.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 8

Dakota

With our lesson at the rink cut short by baby Max’s arrival, Braxton and I didn’t get the chance to meet up again before the Comets headed to the Pacific Northwest for a week-long road trip. Not one to shirk his tutoring duties, he sent over a bunch of helpful links, often used to teach youth players the basics of the game. Braxton told me to study them so that when he returned, we could hit the ice again and figure out what holes I was still missing for my research.

While he was gone, I couldn’t stop thinking about the women I had met that night at the hospital. Braxton mentioned they were part of a tight-knit group. And I began to think that maybe being the “hidden family” of my dad’s made it so that I didn’t understand the personal side of sports figures. He had always painted the other spouses in an unfavorable light, claiming they were “toxic” and he didn’t want me or Mom anywhere near them. 

Nothing I witnessed in that hospital room seemed toxic. Liv and Natalie appeared close. 

And then there was Jaxon claiming children that weren’t his. My dad had cut me out of his life instead of inviting me into his new family. 

Things weren’t adding up, and I wanted to know more. Forget that family life wasn’t part of my story. My characters didn’t have kids; they were building a relationship, not continuing an already established one. Chalk it up to curiosity, a peek into an alternative life where my dad wasn’t a dick with a God complex who slept around.

As I thought about the Slate family, it hit me that Natalie had five children—one being a newborn—and her husband was gone for the next week. I was suddenly struck with an idea.

Texting Braxton, I asked if he thought it would be a good idea if I made a meal and dropped it off for his sister-in-law while the team was out of town. His reply was instant, saying Natalie would love it and sharing their address.

Decision made, I set about the kitchen, making one of my mom’s classic comfort meals. The best part was that you could assemble it cold, refrigerate it, and throw it into the oven when ready to cook. It was the perfect meal for a family with a new baby.

They had a large family, so I made two trays of the casserole, added some ready-made sides to my cooler, and headed across town to the address Braxton had provided. 

Following my phone’s GPS, I hit a roadblock in the form of a gatehouse. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised; the house I grew up in was massive, making it all the more difficult when Mom refused to sell. It was beautiful, sure—and had sentimentality as the place where she brought me home from the hospital and where I took my first steps—but it ate up most of her meager paychecks with the sky-high utility bills. Not to mention, it was the only piece of him she had left.

That house was our only asset. Had we sold, we could have afforded a smaller place with money to spare, and Mom might not have worked through the pain until it was too late to save her. 

The first thing I did after Mom’s passing was sell the godforsaken place. It was enough money to either cover my college tuition or start my writing career. I chose the latter and never looked back.

Pulling my car up to the manned gate, a portly man with glasses greeted me. “Name, and who are you here to see, miss?”

“Dakota Danielson for Natalie Slate.” 

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. I didn’t know why I was nervous. She’d been so nice when we met, but that could have been the drugs talking. Braxton did mention she wasn’t herself that day.

Picking up a phone inside the booth, he spoke, “Afternoon, Mrs. Slate. I have a Dakota Danielson here to see you.”

Frowning, the gate attendant turned to me. “She says she doesn’t know you, Ms. Danielson.”

My face flamed. “Oh, um. We only met once. I’m friends with her brother-in-law, Braxton. I thought he let her know I was coming.”

Natalie must have heard my reply through the receiver because the attendant nodded, saying into the phone, “I’ll send her in.”

Relieved and a little embarrassed, I thanked him before pulling through the gate and following the rest of the directions until I pulled up before a giant house. Peering through the windshield, I double-checked my phone to ensure I had the correct address. This place was so big it could pass for a castle, easily the largest house I had passed in the neighborhood.

My research into hockey told me it was the lowest-paid of the four major sports in the United States—football, baseball, and basketball salaries were far larger. This house was easily in the eight-figure range, more than most hockey players made in a multi-year contract. So, my curiosity grew even more.

And yes, I’d looked into Braxton’s brother. Bristol hadn’t been lying when she said the Slates were hockey royalty. Jaxon Slate was, without a doubt, the biggest name in professional hockey. Number one overall pick in his draft year, future Hall of Famer, and now, league champion.

But what surprised me was that most of the results on my internet search were about his activities off the ice. He spent his time volunteering in the community, making hospital visits to sick kids, and actively participating in youth hockey in Hartford. 

And that was before he became a family man. The images of him with his children were so heartwarming they made my heart ache. I would have given anything for a dad like that.

It was easy to see why the fans loved him. By all appearances, he was a stand-up guy.

Exiting my car, I pulled the soft-sided cooler from the passenger seat and walked to the double doors before ringing the bell. After a few minutes, one door opened, and Natalie smiled at me from the other side, dressed only in plaid pajama pants and white camisole, a printed burp cloth slung over one shoulder where she held the baby.

“Dakota!” she exclaimed. “Come in, come in. Gotta keep this little guy out of the chill.”

Jumping into action, I followed her inside, closing the door behind me.

Natalie bounced the baby as I removed my shoes. “Sorry about the gate. Sleep deprivation with a newborn is hell on your memory.”

I waved her off. “No worries. I spoke to Braxton about bringing you and your kids some food while the team is away.” I held up the cooler.

“Oh, well, aren’t you sweet!” She walked further into the house. “The kitchen is this way.”

Unable to stop myself, I took in the luxury of the home. A giant curved staircase stood out in the foyer, and I wondered what it might look like decorated for Christmas. I bet it was magical in this household during the holidays, like something out of those heartwarming movies. I could picture the love and laughter, and I barely knew these people.

Passing through the entryway, the living room featured a wall of windows overlooking a private backyard, the trees putting on a beautiful fall foliage display. Turning to where I could hear Natalie puttering about in the kitchen, I noticed every wall was filled with pictures of the happy family. 

Stepping into the kitchen, which would rival some of the ones featured on home cooking shows, I placed the cooler atop the enormous marble island in the center of the room. Unzipping the top, I pulled out its contents. 

“What do we have here?” Natalie asked.

The metal pans containing the casserole were covered in clear plastic wrap, and I knew they didn’t look like much now, but saliva filled my mouth with the memory of the delicious aroma when they baked.

“This was my favorite dish growing up. It’s like Thanksgiving in a casserole. Chicken, stuffing, Swiss cheese, and an amazing soup-based sauce pulling it all together. I also brought some microwave mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and cranberry jelly to pair with it.”

Natalie moaned, closing her eyes. “That sounds amazing! Thank you so much.”

“You pop it in the oven at 350 degrees for an hour, and you’re all set,” I instructed. “I wasn’t sure how much your kids eat, so I made a double batch. If you only need one, keep the other refrigerated, and you have a meal for another night.”

“Sure beats surviving on takeout,” she mused.

Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Are you doing okay here all alone? I can’t imagine dealing with a newborn with your partner gone for a week, let alone older kids, too. I bet you have your hands full.” When I gestured to the hands currently occupied by Max, we both chuckled. “I work from home, flexible hours, so if you need any help . . .”

Natalie’s smile reached her warm brown eyes. “You’re so kind to offer. But actually, my mother-in-law is staying with me. She went next door to visit with my nephew for a bit.”

I vaguely recalled mention of her conversation with Braxton in the hospital about a nephew being born the same day as Max. 

Confused, I remarked, “I didn’t realize there was a third Slate sibling.” 

Panic set in that at any moment, Braxton’s mother would walk into the house. I’d been mistaken for his girlfriend once already. Meeting his mom would surely put ideas in her head about our relationship if she caught me bringing food to his brother’s family.

“Oh, no. It’s only the two boys,” Natalie explained. “My ex-husband’s brother, Liam, lives next door. He’s married to my best friend, Amy. So, I suppose it’s my ex-mother-in-law, but I didn’t divorce her, just her son, and she is still my older kids’ grandma.”

I began to breathe easier. Crisis averted.

But damn if that didn’t open up a whole new set of questions about this family. Who remained friendly with their ex-husband’s family? Perhaps it had been an amicable divorce? But that seemed strange, considering Jaxon adopted her kids. 

It wasn’t my business, so I pushed it to the back of my mind, taking it upon myself to put the food I’d brought into the refrigerator. 

When I turned around, Natalie was assessing me. “So, you and Braxton?”

I shook my head. “We’re just friends.” Hadn’t we made that clear in the hospital?

There was a pause as if she were choosing her following words carefully. “The other night was the first time I’ve seen him with a girl.”

What? That couldn’t be right. He was so flirty with me. I was sure he had girls falling all over him, if not for his good looks and charm than for his athlete status.

“Um. I don’t think you understand. I’m not really looking for something right now.” What more could I say? 

Natalie simply smiled, patting Max on the back. “Do you think I was looking for something when Jaxon blew into my life like a hurricane? I was newly divorced, a single mom of three, and broken beyond repair—or at least, I thought so. Those Slate men have a way of burrowing into your heart whether you’re ready for it or not.”

My heart? She had the wrong girl. 

Her tone grew hushed. “Braxton hasn’t had it easy.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “What do you mean?”

Lips curving into a sad smile, she said, “He’s been living under a microscope for most of his life. Being Jaxon’s little brother isn’t easy.”

Mind racing, I recalled something Braxton mentioned when we were skating. “He made a vague comment about not having a choice in playing?”

Natalie nodded. “Everyone expects him to be a carbon copy of Jaxon.” She laughed. “And it doesn’t help that they have the same face. But they’re not the same person. And definitely not the same player out there on the ice. Braxton has been held to an impossible standard since the day he put on skates—to live up to Jaxon’s legacy. Trust me when I say this, and not because of any bias with him being my husband, but Jaxon’s talent is special. For some reason, he sees the game differently than other players, which sets him apart.”

“Don’t think any less of me, but I have looked him up,” I confessed.

She shrugged. “You won’t be the first, nor the last. His career accomplishments are public knowledge.” Natalie paused. “Did you know Braxton was the last pick in his draft year?”

I gasped, the pieces falling into place. “And Jaxon went number one.”

“Yeah . . . And if that pill wasn’t hard enough to swallow, my oh-so-thoughtful husband pulled strings and made sure Braxton went to the Comets when it looked like he would go undrafted. They made a last-minute trade.”

“Ouch.” I winced.

“I know for a fact that Braxton would have rather gone undrafted. He’s looking for a way to set himself apart, and that’s hard to do while living in your brother’s shadow.”

I felt like a total bitch for painting him with the all-athletes-are-assholes brush. But how could I apologize to him for that when Natalie was giving me insider information?

“Braxton is very special to me,” Natalie continued. “And not because he’s my husband’s brother. I know what it’s like to be measured against a mark you will never reach, only to be found lacking. Especially when the world thinks you have it all.”

Cocking my head, I stared at her. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You write books about people falling in love. Why not use real life as inspiration if the opportunity arises? Braxton has a good heart, but he’s scared to share it—mainly because most people see him for what he produces on the ice or who he’s related to. He’s waiting for someone special who can see past all that to the man hidden underneath, the one screaming to be seen. And I think that person might be you.”

“Me?” I squeaked, pointing a finger to my chest.

One of her shoulders rose and fell. “Eh. Maybe I’m just a sucker for a good romance. I do love my books.” She threw me a wink.

I had come by to drop off dinner for a family with a new baby and left with more questions about the man I was spending time with. 

All this time, I’d assumed he was pursuing me because I was a novelty—the first girl to ever turn him down. But now I was realizing that wasn’t the case. He was interested because I didn’t care what he did for a living. With me, he had a chance to be himself, shedding the public persona. 

Was Natalie right? Did I owe it to myself to give him a chance? To see if something could develop between us?

What would one of my characters do?

Yes, I was so confused that I was seeking the advice of fictional characters derived from my own imagination. I was that desperate to figure out my next move.

A reluctant heroine with daddy issues would be cautious, so that’s what I would be. But I was determined to be more open if he wanted to spend time together. Even if it scared me.

The ball was in Braxton’s court—I couldn’t help myself with the sports analogy, even if there was no ball in hockey. If he wanted to show me that he was different, the burden of proof rested on him. 

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 9

Braxton

“Drinks on me!” Jaxon called out over the music of the hotel bar. Resounding cheers came from our teammates in reply. 

Sitting beside me at a high-top table, he clapped me on the back. “It’s not every day your little brother scores his first professional goal.”

Would have been a great milestone if my big bro wasn’t purposely feeding me the puck in front of the net until I scored when he had a clear shot every time.

“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. 

A waitress stopped by, dropping off a round of beer, as more teammates filtered in after the quick flight from Seattle to Vancouver after the game. Jaxon tapped the neck of his bottle to mine before taking a sip.

“So, Natalie is quite smitten with your girl,” he began.

“We’ve been over this. She’s not my girl.”

“Baby Braxton has a girlfriend?!” A shrill voice carried over the crowd.

Great, they’re never going to let this drop now.

Turning, I found Hannah Moreau, our head coach’s daughter and the Comets’ travel coordinator, making a beeline for our table. Behind her, she dragged her boyfriend, Cal Berg, former defenseman for the Comets and current broadcast analyst for our in-house television network affiliate.

The look of mischief on her face had me groaning as I took another sip of beer.

Hannah also happened to be one of Natalie’s best friends, with Cal being one of Jaxon’s. When I said this group was tight-knit, I wasn’t kidding. They were pairing off at an alarming rate.

“Tell me everything!” Hannah sat on my free side, linking her arm through my elbow.

“Nothing to tell.” I could only pray that she'd let it drop if I was vague enough.

Jaxon countered, “Sure. It’s nothing that you got into a fight with Levi on media day over the girl. Then, you brought her to the hospital with you to visit Max. And let’s not forget that Natalie called to tell me she dropped off a meal for her because she knew we were on the road.”

Giving him a side-eye, I grumbled, “Traitor.”

Hannah bounced in her seat. “New girl gang member, coming in hot!”

“Slow it down, Hannah. She’s not into athletes,” I explained. “She’s made that crystal clear.”

“What? Is she crazy? Who wouldn’t want an athlete?” She used her fingers to tick off the points of her counterargument. “They’re hot as hell. Um, hello, muscles from working out for a living. They’re rich. They know how to fuck and have stamina for days.”

Hannah might be a fully-fledged member of Natalie’s “girl gang,” but she seamlessly transitioned to being one of the guys on a moment’s notice. I suppose it came with the territory of growing up a living legend’s daughter and being raised in rinks across the country. That girl could talk any man present under the table over hockey, my brother included. Smirking, I could only imagine Jaxon’s toddler daughter, Charlie, turning into a miniature version of her honorary aunt Hannah.

Cal returned with two shots, which she downed quickly. Slamming a shot glass on the table, she pointed at me. “After all I went through to get one? And she’s not interested? Who is this girl? Give me her phone number. I’ll set her straight.”

Benji Mills, the right winger on the line with Jaxon and me, took an open seat at the table. Taking in Hannah practically breathing fire, he asked Cal, “What did you do to rile her up this time?

Holding both hands up, Cal protested, “Wasn’t me. Braxton did it.”

Chuckling, he took a beer offered to him. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Hannah gestured wildly with her hands. “Braxton says a girl isn’t interested in him! Or athletes at all! Can you believe that nonsense?”

“If I explain, will you let it drop?” I groaned.

She pursed her lips. “Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on if it’s a good reason or not.”

Here goes nothing.

“Her roommate is sleeping with Levi.” 

Those words were met with silence from the group. Then, collectively, their heads turned to the corner, where the man in question had his hands up a busty woman’s too-short skirt. Yeah, I’d seen that show before, unfortunately.

Jaxon whistled. “Well, that explains the fight. Levi’s screwing around behind the roommate’s back, and your girl knows about it.”

“She’s not my girl!” I shouted. “How many times do I have to explain that?”

“But you want her to be.” His brown eyes held mine in challenge.

“Of course I do.” Heaving out a breath, I gestured wildly with my hands. “You’ve seen her. She’s beautiful. And it’s not just that. She’s got this spark. I can’t explain it.” Thinking of Dakota brought a smile to my lips. “But someone hurt her. An athlete. I thought for a minute it was Levi since he’s been a real dick to her and her roommate—who, for the record, knows he fucks around on her. She claims it’s not him, but I can tell she’s scared to trust. And I don’t know what to do with that when she initially bolted for the door the second she found out what I did for a living.”

Jaxon smirked before taking a pull from his bottle. Swallowing, he mused, “You know what I did when a girl with trust issues ran from me?” His grin grew wide. “I married her.”

Hannah chimed in. “You conveniently forgot to mention the part where you knocked her up first.” She pointed at me. “Don’t do that.”

I scoffed. “That’s not even possible with her keeping me at arm’s length. But thanks for the advice.”

“Hmm.” Hannah twisted her lips. “It sounds like you need people on your team.”

The table gave a collective groan. All bets were off when this group—the ladies, especially—decided to form teams. They were expert matchmakers. 

Looking around, Hannah asked, “What? As long as no one is on Team—” She frowned, realizing she didn’t have a name to go with the other team. Spinning her hand, she waited for me to supply one.

“Dakota.” There was no stopping the Hannah crazy train once it left the station. It was best to just buckle up and see where it took you.

“Right.” She nodded. “As long as there’s no one on Team Dakota, we have this in the bag. All of us working together on one team? It’s almost unprecedented. No way we can lose!” Hannah patted my hand. “Don’t you worry, baby boy. We’ll get you your girl.”

It grated on my nerves that she always referred to me as the “baby” of the group. While it was technically true, seeing as I was twenty-two when most of them were in their thirties, it only served to remind me that I was on the fringe, a tag-along member of their massive group with lots of history.

Cal threw his arm around Hannah’s shoulder, kissing her temple. “We didn’t need teams for me to land you.”

Hannah snorted. “No. What we needed was for you to get drunk enough to record a voicemail declaring your undying love for me.” She patted his cheek as if he were a child.

Raising an eyebrow, Cal countered, “That’s not exactly how I remember it.”

She smirked up at him. “Well, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it as the sole owner of that voicemail.” Turning to me, Hannah said, “Tell me more about this girl. I need all the deets to set a plan in motion.”

I shrugged. “Not much to tell. Met her at a party Levi threw at the house. She was taking notes for a book she’s writing about hockey, even though she hates anything and everything associated with sports. I offered to help her with research.”

Blue eyes bulging, a wicked grin curved on Hannah’s face. “Hold up. Did you say she writes books?” I nodded. “Like, naughty books like Nat reads?”

“No.” I shook my head. Wait. Did she? “No,” I repeated, shaking that notion from my brain. “Definitely not.”

“You sure?” She gave me a doubtful expression.

“I don’t think so. She was more interested in the mechanics of the game.”

I could see the wheels turning in her head, and I knew I was in big trouble. 

“I have an idea,” she declared.

Benji snickered. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

Hannah stared down the men seated around the table. “Who amongst us knows the most about hockey?”

Oh, no.

“Hannah, I don’t think—” I began.

She silenced me by holding up both hands. “Look.” First, she waved her right hand. “She wants to learn about hockey.” Then, she waved her left hand. “You want to get into her pants, or for her to fall in love with you, or both. I don’t really care.” She clapped her hands together. “I’m the bridge between those two things.” Leaning her elbows on the table, she stared me down. “Let me do this. I have a one-hundred percent success rate when it comes to the couples inside this group. You’d be a fool not to take me up on my services.”

Jaxon nudged me from the side. “She has a point. Hannah might be unorthodox, but she gets results.”

Letting Hannah butt in on my love life could end one of two ways. She could send Dakota running, screaming for the hills, or she could be the foot in the door I needed. Hannah was a child of hockey. She grew up inside the sport. Not only that, she was dating a former player and held an internal position with the team. Hockey was her life all day, every day. Who better to show Dakota that her ideas about athletes were all wrong?

It was a long shot, but I knew I had to try.

“Okay.” The word flew past my lips. 

Giddy, Hannah beamed at me. “Ooh! This is going to be so much fun! I thought when Benji brought Liv and Knox home, that was our group’s final drama. Everyone’s all paired off and making babies.” She made a gagging sound. “What were we all supposed to do? Live happily ever after? Bor-ring.”

“I have no objections to the happily ever after and babies.” Jaxon raised his hand.

“Me too,” Benji declared.

Spinning in her seat, Hannah pinned Cal with a glare. “Don’t you be getting any ideas.”

Nipping at her lower lip, Cal smiled as he pulled away. “Baby, it took ten years off my life when I saw you buying a basket full of pregnancy tests for the girls. We’re on the same page.”

“Good.” Turning back to the table, she snagged a beer and drained it. Placing the bottle down, she leaned over, nearly toppling out of her chair, so I reached out my hands to steady her. Then, she grabbed my face, kissing me firmly on the mouth. “Operation Get Braxton His Girl is on!”

The second her lips touched mine, I froze like a deer in headlights. Cal had already broken the cardinal rule on the Comets of touching Coach’s daughter, but this went beyond that. She was another man’s girl.

A growl sounded over the music, and a breeze wafted across my face with the force of Hannah being wrenched from my arms.

Daring to peek up at the giant of a man known as Cal Berg, I shrank back at the murderous expression on his face. I was seconds away from wetting myself. He was a big, scary dude, and I’d witnessed the destruction he could do to a man’s face on the ice.

Turning his attention to Hannah, he gripped her chin, his voice rough as he said, “I think you did that on purpose. You know I don’t fucking share, baby girl.”

You could hear the sass in her voice as she replied, “What are you gonna do about it?”

She was poking the bear, and gleefully so. Even before they hooked up, their dynamic had always been fire and ice, but it worked for them. I was beyond thankful he was taking his ire out on a willing Hannah instead of me. 

With practiced precision, Cal hoisted Hannah over his shoulder and began to stride away, promising her, “You’re gonna pay for that.”

Peering up at us, she bit her lip, lust coloring her blue eyes. “Night, fellas!”

Benji chuckled once they were out of sight. “Best fucking show in town.” He clinked his beer bottle to mine. “And you just let her have free reign with your girl. Good luck to you.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Only time would tell if I’d made a colossal mistake. My relationship with Dakota was fragile, but I was holding out hope that Hannah might remind her of Bristol and it would all work out in the end.

Yeah, I knew I was reaching, but what other choice did I have?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 10

Dakota

Braxton: I’m sorry. I tried to stop her. I really did.

What?

I stared down at the text from Braxton. He wasn’t making any sense. Before I could type out a reply asking if maybe he sent the message to the wrong person, the phone buzzed in my hand.

Unknown Number: Picking you up tomorrow at ten. Be ready.

Blinking at the phone, I was more confused than ever.

I’m sorry. I think you might have the wrong number.

Unknown Number: This is Dakota, right?

Uh, yeah. Who is this?

Unknown Number: Whoops, my bad. Not used to needing an introduction. Huh. That’s a strange feeling. But I digress. The name’s Hannah Moreau, but you can call me your hockey fairy godmother. Mistake number one was going to one of the guys for help. I’m the one you need to talk to for all things hockey. Those walking piles of muscles may be pretty to look at, but they’re basically monkeys with sticks. Skate. Shoot. Score. Repeat. If you want to understand the game on a deeper level, I’m your girl.

I’m assuming you know Braxton, then?

Hannah: Bingo! So, when I heard he was helping you out with your “research,” I stepped in.

Why did she put research in quotation marks? And why did she think she knew the game better than the players?

I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m good.

Hannah: Aw, that’s cute. You think you have a choice. See you tomorrow!

What just happened? Who was this woman?

There was only one way to find out. Switching out of that text thread, I opened the one with Braxton.

Wanna explain why I’ll be spending tomorrow morning with someone named Hannah?

Braxton: *Cringe emoji* She happened to overhear Jaxon talking about how you brought Natalie food while we were gone. Thank you, by the way. That was really sweet of you. And the next thing I know, she’s declaring that she will be taking over your hockey education. 

Okay . . . But who is she?

Braxton: *Sighs* Where do I begin? Let’s see. She’s our head coach’s daughter. She’s dating a freshly retired player who now does TV commentary for the Comets. She’s the Comets anthem singer AND our travel coordinator—hence, why she was on the road trip. But if all those weren’t enough, she’s been best friends with Natalie since they were teenagers.

So, what you’re saying is . . . she knows her stuff when it comes to hockey. 

Braxton: Oh yeah.

In your opinion, is it a good idea to pick her brain? She seemed a little intense, telling me we were hanging out together doing God knows what tomorrow instead of asking.

Braxton: Believe it or not, “intense” might be one of the nicest words I’ve heard used to describe her.

That’s not exactly a mark in the pro column. 

Braxton: If you can get past the lack of filter, she’s harmless. I promise.

Any idea where she plans to take me?

Braxton: Not a clue. 

You’re on standby if I need rescuing?

Braxton: *Winking emoji* Always. Another skating session this weekend? Have you been studying those videos?

Is there going to be a quiz?

Braxton: *Smirk emoji* Maybe. 

*Grabs glasses to start jotting down notes*

Braxton: You wear glasses? That’s kinda hot in a sexy-teacher kinda way.

*Eye roll emoji* You’re hopeless.

Braxton: *Shrugs* Don’t yuck my yum. 

See you this weekend. If I survive Hannah, that is.

Braxton: You’ll be fine. Text if you need anything before Saturday. I’m around between practices and games. 

See you Saturday.

The doorbell rang, and nervously, I stepped through the living room to answer the door, already knowing who was waiting on the other side.

I was not prepared to come face to face with arguably the most stunning woman I’d ever seen in real life. Sparkling blue eyes scanned me from head to toe, almost as if she were assessing whether or not I was worth her time. Brown hair threaded with caramel highlights was twisted into a braid hanging over one shoulder. A tight crop top stretched across her breasts, exposing the skin of her slim mid-section, with workout leggings completing her look. And most shocking of all were her shoes. Who wore flip-flops in November?

Choice of footwear aside, this was what I expected to see on the arm of a hockey player. She looked so beautiful dressed down that I feared the sight would be blinding when she was fully put together.

But beyond her physical appearance, she exuded a confidence I wished I could bottle.

Hannah Moreau gave off serious I-don’t-care-what-you-think-of-me vibes.

A corner of her full lips turned up. “I see it.”

My eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You ready to go?”

Peering down at my clothing choice of jeans and an oversized sweater, I said, “You didn’t mention where we were going. Do I need to change?”

“Nope. We’ll be stripping down as soon as we get there anyway.” Her blue eyes sparked with amusement. 

“S-stripping down?” I stammered. 

Hannah smirked. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “That is, if you’re wearing any, which I am not. You’ll be covered in a towel or a robe if you choose. Now grab your stuff, and let’s go.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. Snatching my purse from the entryway table, I stepped outside, locking the door behind me. 

When I turned around, Hannah was halfway to her silver luxury SUV. 

“I’m Dakota, by the way,” I offered, moving toward the car. 

Flicking her wrist over her shoulder, she replied, “I know.”

So much for pleasantries. But I couldn’t help but smile. From a brief glimpse of Hannah’s sassy personality, I could picture what Bristol would be like in ten years. That was, if she ever managed to land Nix, which I highly doubted. Thankfully, she hadn’t let him distract her from her schoolwork and would graduate with a useful degree in six months. 

I hopped into the passenger seat, and Hannah drove us to an upscale neighborhood with a downtown area lined with shops and restaurants. Parking the SUV, she didn’t wait for me before entering the front door of what looked like a spa.

Following, I pushed through the door, confirming my suspicions. Hannah was already chatting up the woman at the front desk about treatments. 

Sidling up to her at the desk, I whispered, “I can’t afford this.”

A charming yet fake laugh filtered past her lips, and she held up a finger to the receptionist as she pulled me to the side. “Look. I get you don’t know me yet, but give me a little credit. I brought you here. It’s my treat.”

“I couldn’t possibly—” I began to protest, but the words died on my lips when she held up a hand.

“Trust me. I’ve been there. My girlfriends were mega-rich before they married well. My family did okay, but we weren’t raking in trust-fund-level money. I was living with my parents until a little over a year ago. And I’m thirty-two, for the record, so I was practically the poster child for failure-to-launch syndrome. I know what it’s like to feel like a burden as your friends pick up the tab time and time again. So, consider this me paying it forward. My girls did it for me, so let me do it for you. Maybe one day you can do it for someone else.”

Wow. I guess you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Nice, Dakota. Real original. The author using a worn-out book idiom.

“Okay.” I nodded, accepting Hannah’s generous gesture. “Thank you.”

Hannah shrugged. “No biggie. If you want to make it up to me, I won’t say no to my name being credited in the back of your book. Or, better yet, in the dedication.” She snorted. “Oh boy, that would piss Natalie off big time.”

Stunned, I asked, “You know about my book?”

Reaching up a hand, she patted me on the cheek. “Dear sweet Dakota, I know much more than you think.”

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like trouble at all.

Spinning around, she checked us in, and we were led to a private changing room with a full shower. There was a full rack of towels, high-end beauty products laid across the marble sink, and two robes hung on hooks for our use. 

Hannah had no shame, shedding her clothes out in the open—quickly and without warning—so I couldn’t avert my eyes in time. She was comfortable in her own skin; that went without question. Shyly, I wrapped a towel around myself, wiggling out of my clothes from beneath it. I was having major gym class locker room flashbacks with this move.

“You’ve got a hot little body.” Hannah’s voice startled me, and I lost my grip on the towel.

In slow motion, I watched as it floated toward the ground, and I was left standing there naked for inspection. My first instinct was to cover myself the best I could with my hands while retrieving it, but Hannah halted me with her words. “Own it.”

Wide-eyed, I peeked over at her, also standing naked, following her very own advice and owning it. My cheeks heated, but I couldn’t look away. 

“Take a deep breath.” I couldn’t help but obey. “Good. Now, step in front of the mirror.”

What was happening? Was this a scene from one of my books where a character was forced to watch their reflection as a partner got them off? Certainly not. Hannah was attached. At least, that’s what Braxton had said. Right?

Blue eyes sparkling with mischief, she seemingly read my mind. “Relax. I’m batting for Team Loves a Giant Cock.”

Good to know.

After another cleansing breath, I moved to the mirror. Hannah remained off to the side, commanding, “Look at yourself and tell me what you like about your body.”

Oh boy. Here goes nothing.

“Um. I guess I have nice skin?” That was the best place to start. Safe.

“Was that a question or a statement?” Hannah called over.

Nodding to my reflection, I clarified, “A statement. I have nice skin.”

“Good. Continue.”

“My breasts are a decent size. Not too big, not too small.”

Hannah laughed. “You have great tits. Trust me. What else?”

“I like my hourglass figure. Hips aren’t always a bad thing.” I was gaining confidence with each declaration.

“You’ve got that right. Men go fucking nuts for hips to grab onto.”

My cheeks turned red in the mirror. I would have to take her word on that.

Hannah clapped her hands. “Okay, that’s enough. Grab a robe. Can’t stand around all day eyeing your sexy bod. I promised you help with your research, so that’s what you’re gonna get.”

Grabbing the nearest robe and slipping my arms through the soft sleeves, I asked, “Here?”

“Why not?” she countered, donning her robe and tying the sash. “Kill two birds with one stone. You get what you need, and we get a relaxing day of pampering. That’s a win in my book.”

She had a point. As long as we were here, we might as well enjoy ourselves. 

Our first stop was side-by-side massages. I didn’t realize how tight my muscles were from sitting and writing all day, every day. But with the first press of the masseur’s hands, I groaned at the pleasurable release of my sore muscles, and Hannah chuckled from her table. 

“See? Told you this was a great idea,” she teased.

“Uh-huh.” My eyes were closed, reveling in the tension leaving my body.

Halfway through, my body felt like putty, loose and malleable. Hannah’s voice called over, “So, tell me what you know so far about hockey.”

Right. We were here to work, not just play. “I know the names of the lines: goal line, blue line, and red line. Then, there’s equipment—stick, puck, gear. There are five players for each team, plus a goalie. Sometimes, there are penalties that take a player away from a team. Offense and defense play on the ice simultaneously, and they swap out in the middle of the action, not just when whistles blow.”

“Not a bad start,” Hannah mused. “Do you know the specific position names beyond offense and defense?”

I searched my mind. I knew this. “Defense is made up of defensemen. The offense is forwards, I think?”

“Very good. And what positions can you play as a forward?”

My nose wrinkled in thought, but I was drawing a blank. “I forget.”

“That’s okay. They can either be wingers or centers. The center has free reign of the ice, but he’s your playmaker. There’s only one of those per shift, and as you can guess, they are usually at the faceoff circle in the middle of a line. Then, there are two wingers, a left and a right. They tend to stick to their side, but there is some fluidity. The three forwards usually have built some chemistry by playing together for a while. They will swap positions to cover the ice. In all honesty, watching it is a thing of beauty. Have you been to a game?”

“No.” I was almost ashamed to admit that with how passionately she spoke about the sport.

“Then we’ll have to make that happen. I’m happy to sit by your side and explain the action as it happens in real-time.”

“Maybe,” I replied. Going to the rink with Braxton was one thing. But being at a professional game again after all this time? I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet.

Our massage at an end, we thanked the men working on us, and Hannah handed them each a tip. Moving down the hall, we entered another room with one large table at the center. It looked almost like what you’d see in a doctor’s office.

Looking to Hannah for answers since she seemed to know what was going on, I asked, “What happens in this room?” 

A wicked grin curved on her lips. “Waxing.”

Stumbling back a step, I crashed into the table. “What? No.” 

She’d seen me naked. Only one place could be considered for forceful hair removal, and that was not happening.

“Oh, come on, Dakota,” she chided. “It’s the twenty-first century. Sure, some guys are into the natural look, but most go feral when a girl is bare. I’m doing you a favor.”

“A favor?” I scoffed. “I beg to differ. Ripping my hair out by the roots”—I gestured to the area between my legs—“there isn’t helping me in any way.” Under my breath, I added, “Sounds more like torture.”

“Agree to disagree.” She shrugged unapologetically. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

My eyes bulged. “I can tell you with absolute certainty, a bikini wax has never—not once—crossed my mind.”

Hannah stalked forward, her voice softening. “You’re telling me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to have silk panties slide over bare skin, teasing your clit with every step you take?” I swallowed, but she continued, “The soft graze of a man’s fingers bringing goosebumps right there?” 

Her words came out breathy, and the mental imagery had me more than a little turned on. My brain and body were not on the same page, and without warning, I blurted, “Yes.”

Biting her lower lip, Hannah was unable to hide her triumphant expression. “Thought so. You’ll thank me later.”

Hannah Moreau was not like any woman I’d ever met. She knew what she wanted and had no shame in the tactics used to get it. Somehow, I had landed on her radar, and something deep down inside of me knew I would never be the same.

The door opened, and a woman dressed in what looked like black pajamas entered. 

Smiling, she introduced herself, “Hello, ladies. I’m Tina, and I’ll be your esthetician this morning. I’ve got you down for two Brazilians. Who would like to go first?”

I looked right at Hannah. There was no way I was getting on that table before her.

Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “Fine. I’m first.” Situating herself on the table, she muttered in my direction, “Baby.”

She could call me names all day long. Nothing would change the fact that I was in this room under duress. 

Opening her robe, Hannah reclined, spreading her legs. I didn’t want to look. Lord knows I didn’t, but chalk it up to morbid curiosity, my gaze honed in on her pussy. Dark stubble was scattered across her mound—a dead giveaway she’d done this before—if her vivid description from earlier hadn’t been enough. 

Tina smoothed translucent amber wax over the area with what looked like a popsicle stick before covering it with cloth strips. Peering up at Hannah, she asked, “You need a count?”

Shaking her head, Hannah replied, “Nope. Just do your thing.”

I watched on in horror as Tina tugged the first strip away, leaving a patch of bare skin. Hannah didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. How was that even possible? One by one, the cloths were removed, the skin beneath turning a pale pink in response. Using a warm cloth, Tina wiped away any lingering traces of wax before placing what she explained was a cooling balm over the area. 

Hannah closed her robe and hopped off the table, tilting her head toward the seat she’d vacated. “Your turn.”

Pleading with her with my eyes, I begged, “Is there no way I can get out of this?”

She shook her head sharply, but her sapphire eyes sparked. “Nope. Consider it part of your research.”

“I don’t see how this pertains to hockey,” I argued. 

“Braxton might be oblivious to the kind of book you’re writing, but I’ve been around the block. Also doesn’t hurt that Natalie is all about the word porn.”

My hackles raised. “Romance and erotica are not the same thing.”

“If there’s sex, it’s porn. And you won’t change my mind about that. But keep telling yourself whatever you need to sleep at night.” She paused. “Now, tell me, how many of your heroines are waxed?”

I scowled at Hannah. She’d backed me into a corner, but I couldn’t deny she had me pegged. “All of them,” I grumbled.

Smirking, her reply was chipper. “I rest my case.” Patting the table, she commanded, “Up you go.”

Steeling my nerves, I climbed onto the padded table. Reluctantly, I opened my robe and spread my legs. I wasn’t sporting an unruly bush; I trimmed it, but there was still a more significant amount of growth than Hannah had sported before her wax. 

Eyeing the area, Tina set to work. The wax was warm, soothing almost, and I relaxed. That was, until she pulled the first strip. I yelped, the sting catching me off guard. I guess Hannah not needing a count meant I didn’t either. 

“Wanna hold my hand?” I could hear the smile in Hannah’s voice even though my eyes were tightly shut. 

“No,” I said, breathing through the pain. “Just get it over with.”

The second strip wasn’t quite as shocking, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. Biting my lip, my eyes remained closed as I reminded myself to breathe. The last thing I needed was to pass out getting waxed and have paramedics called to find me naked and unconscious. 

Finally, I felt the wet washcloth and the balm being spread over my abused skin. It must have contained aloe because it provided a cooling sensation to soothe the burn.

“You did great,” Hannah declared. 

Forcing my eyes open, I glared at her, saying through gritted teeth, “You’re not my favorite person right now.”

Throwing a hand to her chest, she let out an exaggerated gasp. “You wound me. And here I thought we could invite you into our girl gang.”

Closing my robe, I sat up. “If this is how you have fun with your friends, I think I’m good.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “You know, they’re not all that much fun right now. I was getting a little lonely, so you fell into my lap at just the right time.”

“Lucky me.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I didn’t want to appear ungrateful for the day of pampering Hannah was treating me to, but I would have liked the option to say no to the waxing.

Our final stop was manicures and pedicures. 

Sinking into the chair beside Hannah, I let out a sigh. Now this would be good for me. 

The nail techs offered a selection of colors and styles. I asked for a simple French manicure and picked a pale pink for my toes. I wasn’t flashy; I liked the understated, feminine look. Hannah, however, went for a shocking cherry red. 

They offered us mimosas, which Hannah lunged for, throwing back the contents of an entire champagne flute and asking for a refill immediately. 

“You can take mine,” I offered.

Head whipping to stare at me, she said, “Oh no. I’m not drinking alone. Been doing that all damn year. All my friends were either pregnant or nursing. It was awful.”

It was impossible to say no to this woman, and I folded under the pressure. “Okay.” Taking the glass held out to me on a tray, I took a sip. The orange juice wasn’t enough to overpower the dry taste of champagne.

Boy, these are strong.

Making a conscious decision to nurse a single mimosa as Hannah pounded them down, I figured we needed one of us sober enough to drive home. What I would do with her once I got back to my place, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I could offer to let her sleep it off. 

Not wanting the day to be a total waste, I asked, “So, what do you do for the Comets? Braxton mentioned that you work for the team?”

Hannah nodded. “On the record, I’ve been the anthem singer for over ten years, but they don’t pay me for that. As of last season, I am paid as their travel coordinator. I book the accommodations for road trips, work with the in-house teams at other arenas, and make sure everything is all hunky-dory while the boys travel for away games.”

“How often do they travel?”

Attempting to count on her fingers several times and missing, I realized how sloppy she was getting. Dragging her to the car wouldn’t be fun. 

“Let’s see—eighty-two regular season games. Half are away . . . So that’s . . . That’s . . .”

“Forty-one?” I gave her a much-needed assist on that simple math.

“Bingo!” She pointed her finger in my face. “You’re sooooooo smart!”

It was so hard not to laugh at her drunken glee. 

Hannah’s words were slurred, but she continued, “My unofficial position involves analyzing the game. My dad is the head coach, so I’ve been raised at the rink. He played until I was ten before moving on to coaching. I’m a student of the game. I know it inside and out. Even played it until I hit my teen years. I’m the one pouring over hours of film scouting recruits and free agents during the offseason and offering suggestions. Beyond that, I’m pretty good at putting a bug in a certain few players’ ears. It’s like I have over twenty brothers.”

“But you’re dating a player, correct?”

She sat bolt upright, causing the nail tech to miss where she was painting her big toe. “Yes!” Slumping back into her seat, she added, “But that was a whole ordeal. I wasn’t allowed to date the players, or rather, they weren’t allowed to date me. If you haven’t guessed, the rules can’t hold me, so I didn’t stop till I bagged one.” Hannah bit her lip but couldn’t stifle a moan. “Oh, and boy, did I get one. Highly recommend.”

Before I could respond, a blond behemoth of a man walked into the room. He was easily the tallest man I’d ever seen in real life, and you could see every defined muscle beneath his tight-fitting T-shirt and perfectly tailored jeans. The man was gorgeous, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

I breathed out, “Oh. My. God.”

Hannah followed my line of sight before exclaiming, “Baby! You made it!”

This guy?

God, he looked like he could split Hannah in half. And I meant that in a good way. My core clenched just thinking about it.

The man stalked closer, shaking his head, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

“He’s huge.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I immediately slapped a hand over it in embarrassment.

Leaning over, Hannah whispered—well, at least what she thought was whispering; I was pretty sure they could hear her in the next room, “Can confirm he’s big everywhere.” My eyes widened before dropping discreetly to the area of his crotch on approach. “Oh, and he’s pierced too.” Hannah sighed. “Feel free to use that in your book.”

Stopping before us, the man exhaled heavily, eyeing Hannah with disapproval. “It’s one in the afternoon on a Wednesday, Hannah.”

She reached her arms out to him like a toddler, and he willingly pulled her out of the chair, where she proceeded to cling to him. Or, more accurately, he held her up with how unstable she was on her feet.

Hand snaking up his chest, Hannah replied, “I booked you for a wax, honey. You know how much I love your smooth chest.” She turned to me. “A stubbly chest is as bad as a prickly pussy. Remember that.”

It was like watching a train wreck. I couldn’t look away, no matter how hard I tried.

“Not today. I’ve gotta get you home, then get back to work.” The man spoke with a hard edge to his voice.

Pouting, she huffed. “Fine.” He began to lead her away, but she turned around, halting him. “Cal, don’t be rude! Say hi to Dakota!”

Cal pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Hello, Dakota. Allow me to apologize for Hannah being unable to hold her liquor.”

I waved shyly. “Not a problem. We had a fun time.”

“Clearly,” he muttered, peering down at Hannah plastered to his side, her hand moving toward the waistband of his jeans, and he had to reach out to stop her from venturing lower.

“Hannah drove me today. If you want, I can drop her car off if you send me a location,” I offered. “I barely had a sip or two of my mimosa.”

Shaking his head, Cal replied, “I’ll drive her car home. I figured she’d be incapacitated, so I had a car drop me off. It should still be out front, and you can use it to get where you need to go.”

“Thanks.” I gave him a small smile.

Turning, he led Hannah away. The words said to her barely reached my ears. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Beaming up at him, her voice carried. “You love me, big guy. It’s cute that you pretend I don’t bring the spice to your life.”

I chuckled behind my hand as they left the room, and the nail tech finished up the final touches on my feet.

Their interaction was entertaining, but it also made me think. I could only imagine the hell that would rain down if my mom had ever been caught day drinking to excess in a public place. I could hear my dad’s rant in my head now about how embarrassed he would be. That she was a reflection of him. 

But of course, Mom would never have done something to displease him. As much as I loved her, she had been a complete doormat when it came to my dad. Not that that had worked out well for her in the end.

Cal was annoyed with Hannah, sure, but there was still affection in his eyes. He’d dropped everything in the middle of his workday to come and take her home. That spoke volumes about where his priorities lay.

The more I learned about these Comets couples, the more intrigued I became.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 11

Dakota

“I still can not believe you hung out with THE Hannah Moreau,” Bristol said from her perch on my bed as I prepared for my skating session with Braxton.

I shrugged, tugging on the sweatshirt he’d bought me the last time we went to the rink. “She’s just a person, Bristol.”

“No.” She shook her head. “She’s legendary. And now that she’s dating Cal Berg? Talk about a power couple in the hockey world.”

“Aw, do you need me to set up a playdate for you with Hannah?” I teased.

“You say that like a joke, but I would sell my left kidney to be friends with her. If you want a first-class ticket into the Comets’ inner circle, she’s it.”

Chuckling, I mused, “How did I go from dipping my toes into the hockey pool to being thrown in head first by the coach’s daughter?”

Bristol’s blue eyes sparkled. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. An all-expenses paid spa day? Lucky bitch. Then throw in the messenger with a note saying she’s pre-booked and pre-paid your next six months of waxing maintenance and a bag full of Arabella Reign lingerie? The panties alone are fifty bucks a pair!”

My cheeks heated. I was reminded with every step I took of what Hannah said about silk panties caressing between my thighs now that I was bare down there.

My best friend wasn’t done with her grumbling over my perceived good fortune. “You know I love you, Dakota, but what do I have to do to get the “it girl” in hockey to choose to be my fairy godmother?” She flopped backward onto the bed, letting out a whine.

The doorbell rang, indicating Braxton’s arrival.

Arm slung over her face, Bristol huffed. “Go. Live your best life. I’ll be here, lamenting that you hate the sport and have somehow found yourself fully entrenched with Comets royalty.”

I frowned. Bristol wasn’t usually so down on herself. I wondered if perhaps Nix had said or done something that upset her. Usually, when the team was home, she’d be over at his place, but it seemed like she would be staying in tonight.

Reminding myself that it never ended well when you stuck your nose in other people’s business, I squeezed her leg and told her I’d see her later. When she was ready to talk, I knew she’d spill whatever was bothering her.

Walking down the stairs, I opened the front door to reveal the charmingly boyish grin waiting on the other side. Today, Braxton was in dark gray joggers, a Comets hoodie similar to mine, and a backward-facing ballcap in the same navy color as his sweatshirt. I would lay bets that the Comets logo was on the other side.

We’d talked via text a few times while he was away, but seeing him in person for the first time in a couple of weeks, it hit me that I was happy that he was finally home. What did it say about me that I missed a guy I barely knew?

Alarm bells sounded in my head when he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. 

Flashing me an endearingly crooked grin, he said, “Nice hoodie.”

A smile crept onto my own face, and I joked back with a shrug. “Some guy got it for me. Told me some story about being a hockey player? Not sure I believe it. He was probably exploiting my lack of knowledge about the sport.”

“Pretty girls get guys to do crazy things.” Braxton held up a finger and twirled it. “Turn around. Let me see who this hotshot thought he was.”

Spinning on my toes, I peeked over my shoulder as he read the name and number splayed across my back. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flared reading his own name.

“Slate, huh? Ballsy move. I’d have gone with someone less high-profile if it were me.”

Smirking, I turned to face him. “I think he really wanted to impress me.”

“Can’t say I blame him. I’d do whatever it took to impress you, too.”

Leaning against the doorframe, a boldness I never knew I possessed took over, and I openly scanned Braxton from head to toe. “Is that so?” He nodded, a corner of his lips quirking up, his eyes never leaving mine. “Then, where do you plan on taking me this evening?”

Whiskey eyes sparkling, he replied, “The ice rink, where else? I’ve taken it as a personal mission to uncover the hockey fan I know is buried deep within that beautiful body.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” I challenged.

“Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.” He held his hand out to me in invitation. “You ready?”

Nodding, I took his offered hand, the calloused pads of his fingertips rough against my softer skin. Closing the door behind me, I let Braxton lead me to his car, and for the first time since I met him, I vowed to have an open mind.

Things went a lot smoother this time without me fighting Braxton every step of the way. This time, he’d brought a stick and puck onto the ice with us and made me wear a bulky helmet with a metal cage to protect my face. He explained that while players worked tirelessly to hone their precision, he wasn’t willing to risk an errant shot hitting one of the red posts of the net and careening back to hit me in the face. I was sure I looked ridiculous, but his care for my safety warmed me from the inside out.

Braxton took his time, showing me how to hold a stick and even letting me take a few pathetic shots at the net. Maybe if I hadn’t been using the stick as a crutch to remain upright, the puck would have skittered more than a few feet away upon my clumsy swipes.

Frustrated, I handed him back the stick. “I don’t know how you’re so good at this.”

He shrugged. “Lots and lots of practice. It feels like I’ve spent nearly every day of my life on the ice.”

Pieces of my earlier conversation with him and my one with Natalie came to mind. “But does it make you happy?”

Staring down at me, he sighed. “Some times more than others.”

“Like when?”

Eyes searching mine, he paused before answering. “I guess when I was in college? I was able to take on a leadership role and make a name for myself. Everyone knew my brother, but I’d earned the ‘C’ on my chest. I took pride in it.”

“And now?” I questioned. “So many guys would kill to be where you are.”

“Maybe,” he mused. “But I’m not sure they would have agreed to the price I paid to be here.”

Braxton was being vague, and I didn’t want to push him. He was already giving me a glimpse of what Natalie had described. But there was more to the story than living in his brother’s shadow. I could feel it.

Not wanting to put a damper on our time together, I asked, “If you could choose any job in the world—not hockey—what would it be?”

My question had the desired effect, and Braxton’s mood shifted, a smile curling onto his lips. “Well, my degree is in analytics, but that’s too close to the game and could still be considered hockey. I think maybe something to do with cars.”

“Like a mechanic? Get your hands dirty?”

Braxton let out a laugh. “While I’m sure you’d love to see me in that one-piece coverall with grease streaked on my face, I was thinking more along the lines of racing.”

“Go big or go home,” I teased. “Years of playing hockey has you conditioned to chase the high created by the crowd screaming your name.”

He leaned in close, his face almost pressed against the cage of my helmet, as his voice lowered. “Maybe I like an element of danger.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I was pretty sure the silk panties Hannah had bought me were utterly ruined. My heart raced, the helmet closing in on me, and my hands reached up to claw at the straps holding it securely to my head.

“Get this off of me.” The words came out in a panic.

Concern filled Braxton’s amber eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, the buckles were undone and the helmet lifted from my head before I heard it hit the ice with a thunk. Braxton’s thick hockey gloves joined the helmet at our feet before his bare hands cupped my cheeks. 

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” His voice was soft and soothing, causing my eyes to flutter shut. 

Warm hands against my frosted cheeks had me leaning into his embrace. His thumbs caressed slowly, providing comfort, and my heart rate began to settle. 

Steeling my nerves, I forced my eyes open to find his face filling my entire field of vision. Averting my gaze, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No, Dakota, I’m sorry. I thought we were having fun, playing around. I had no idea that my words would trigger you into a panic attack.”

I didn’t need his hands to warm my cheeks anymore; they were flaming with embarrassment. He thought his words had set me off, and perhaps in a way, they had, but it was the force of my attraction to him—my arousal—that had sent me on a tailspin.

Here was this kind and patient man, and the ghosts of my past were getting in the way. I couldn’t help but think that I would be betraying my mother’s memory if I gave him a chance. 

But I could also hear her in my head, telling me how foolish that was. 

It shouldn’t matter what he does for a living, sweet girl. A man is so much more than what he chooses for a profession. Don’t close your heart off to the possibility of love.

Wait, love?

No, I didn’t love Braxton. I barely knew the guy.

But maybe you could if you let down your walls.

His charm and compassion had gone to my head, and I wasn’t thinking straight. 

“Dakota, you’re shaking. Let’s call it a night.” Braxton’s words broke through my confused haze. 

Gliding back half a step, he dropped his hands, reaching for the gloves and helmet discarded on the ice. 

“Wait.” That single word halted his actions.

Peering up, his eyes bore into mine as if they could see into my soul. “Tell me what you need. Whatever it is, it’s yours.”

You.

My heart was running away with him, and my brain was trying to catch up. I was in big trouble. 

Swallowing around my heart suddenly lodged in my throat, I croaked out, “I want to see you skate.”

His brows furrowed. “You’ve seen me skating for the past half hour.”

“No.” I shook my head. “The way you skate in a game. Not the snail's pace we shuffle along. Show me what it looks like when you push yourself.”

Rising to his full height, he studied my face. “Are you sure? We can do this another time.”

“Please?” I breathed out.

“Okay. You stay right here. Don’t move a muscle. Understand?”

I nodded, and he turned my body slightly so I straddled the red line at center ice, facing the benches where the teams sat. 

Notching his front skate into the ice, I was fascinated when it dug in. He’d explained that ice resurfacers smoothed the ice between periods because the skates cut into it. But we’d barely made a nick in it during our time out here. 

There wasn’t much time to ponder the force the players must use to carve a path through the frozen surface before he took off like a bullet. Streaking away from me, he kept to the edge of the rink. Just when I thought he would crash into the wall when he reached the end, his legs crossed—one over the other—multiple times, aiding in a smooth turn along the short wall before heading back in my direction. 

Amazed at the ease at which he propelled his body with complete control, I was oblivious that he was speeding right toward me. When I realized he was on a collision course, my muscles locked, and I remained frozen to the spot. Was this what it was like for deer when they saw headlights coming toward them? Knowing their demise was imminent but powerless to step out of the way?

Slamming my eyes shut, I braced for impact as Braxton barreled toward me like a train speeding down the tracks. The sound of his skates hitting the ice drew closer, and I suddenly missed that uncomfortable helmet that would have kept my head from cracking like an egg when Braxton inevitably crashed into me.

This is it. This is where I’m going to die.

My muscles ached with how tense I held them, which I knew would only make this hurt more. I couldn’t help it. It was a natural human response. 

There was a sharp “chhh” sound, and I flinched, squealing as icy wetness sprayed across my face. 

“Aw, you missed the best part.” Braxton’s voice was full of humor.

Well, the good news was that I was alive. The bad news was that I was going to kill Braxton. 

Opening my eyes, I glared at the man standing before me, a smirk on his handsome face. “Jerk.” Using two hands, I shoved at his chest. “You did that on purpose!”

Laughter echoed throughout the empty rink, and I glimpsed down to find myself covered in what looked like snow. 

“Glad you’re amused,” I grumbled as I brushed off my clothes and wiped away the water droplets across my face. 

Reining it in, his laughter slowly died, but his dazzling smile remained. 

“You’re right,” I mocked, gesturing around. “None of this makes you happy.”

Skating closer, his eyes darkened. “It’s being here with you that makes me happy, Firefly.”

Oh, God. I wasn’t going to survive this man. My chest tightened, but I managed to breathe enough not to embarrass myself again. 

Sensing that he was walking a fine line, he changed the subject. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I know a great little ice cream place.”

Taking my hand in his, he led me off the ice, and the door to my heart cracked open the tiniest bit.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 12

Braxton

I was making progress.

As Dakota and I spent more time together, I watched her defenses lower, and she stopped pushing back. Teasing her, making her laugh—those were great. But what I really enjoyed were those moments when I pushed the limits, flirting with her and watching her response. She was no longer outright shutting me down, and I knew if I was patient, I could eventually win her over. 

Dakota was incredible. I’d known that early on, but now that I was getting to know her? Fuck, she was constantly on my mind. I’d never felt this way about a girl before. Not even when I thought I wanted a future with Lacey. 

I didn’t even have Dakota and wasn’t sure I would ever get enough. 

Going back on the road so soon after our last skating session and my sly ice cream date add-on was torture. Time and distance could be a setback, allowing her to overthink and re-evaluate our current relationship. I texted her occasionally—but not too much to seem needy or desperate—to touch base on her hockey research. She was getting there, but slowly. 

I couldn’t imagine how overwhelming it must be to cram learning the entire game into a few months. I’d had my whole life, and there were still things I was learning. Hockey was unique in that the game was constantly changing and evolving. Rules were updated in any sport, but the style of play adapted to those currently playing. What used to be a game of big hits, requiring massive enforcers on each team, was now one of speed and skill, involving scrappy players with creativity. 

For fans of the game, it was an exciting time. Highlights were mind-blowing on a nightly basis.

And that’s why I sent Dakota a few highlight reels while on this most recent away trip. She’d been through the basics, and now it was time to see the game in action. Asking her to watch an entire game without me there to explain it in real-time would be too much, but short clips of players making unreal moves and scoring in unique ways might help spark inspiration for whatever she was working on. 

I had to admit, I was curious as to what her book was about. Sure, the sport had plenty of female fans, but I still didn’t see the appeal of reading about it instead of watching. I held out hope that, eventually, Dakota might become comfortable enough with me to share more details about her latest project. She knew all about my job, but I knew very little about hers. 

By the time the Comets touched down in Hartford, I was desperate to see her. The team plane arrived late at night, as we often returned home after playing our last road game, so it would have to wait until the following day. 

I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink. The anticipation was too great for the moment when we would be reunited. I still couldn’t believe that pint-sized girl had somehow found a way to make me believe there was a person out there who could see past the noise surrounding my life and into the heart of me.

I might never get a chance like this again, and I wasn’t about to waste it.

Knocking on the door of the house Dakota shared with Bristol, I bounced on my feet, unable to contain my excitement. A phone call received this morning with a change of plans had provided an opportunity. If what Dakota had said about having no one after losing her mom was true, this was my chance to show her the human side of hockey players. Better than that, the family side. Social media loved seeing players with their kids; it melted everyone’s hearts. 

Yes, I knew taking Dakota with me to the hospital when Max was born fell under that category, but Natalie went off the rails with her oversharing and probably did more damage than good. Truth be told, I was still a little scarred from that encounter. 

The door opened, and I was met with Bristol’s smirking face. 

“Ooh. Dropping by unannounced? I like it. Doesn’t give her a chance to overthink.”

Bristol made it no secret she was on my side. An ally on the inside was invaluable. 

“Is she home?” I asked.

“It’s your lucky day.” She stood aside to allow me entry. “She’s upstairs in her bedroom slash office, probably staring at a blank document again. I’m sure she’ll be glad for a distraction.”

“Here’s hoping.” Crossing my fingers, I threw her a wink. “Can you go get her for me?”

Eyeing me, Bristol shook her head. “Not necessary. You can head right on up. Her door was cracked, which means she’s open to interruption. Hers is the room on the right, past the bathroom.”

Skeptical, I arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” She waved me on toward the stairs. 

I sent up a silent prayer that Dakota would be glad to see me versus the alternative of her threatening my manhood for breaching her inner sanctuary without warning. 

Calm down. She’s fiery, but she’s not Hannah. It’ll be fine.

Maybe I should have texted first, but it was too late now.

Taking the stairs, I saw the cracked door on the right that Bristol had mentioned. Giving it a light rap with my knuckles, I waited for a reply but was met with silence. Shit. She was probably sleeping; it was still early. I’d just wanted to see her so damn badly that I hadn’t considered her flexible schedule might mean she was a night owl who slept in.

Pushing the door open to peek inside, I found Dakota, not sleeping but sitting at her computer with headphones on. Leaning against the doorjamb, I watched as her fingers flew furiously across the keyboard. She was so in the zone I almost felt bad for interrupting.

The headphones must have been noise-canceling since she hadn’t heard my knock. Walking into the room, I half expected her to catch my approach from her peripheral vision, but when she didn’t, I moved behind her to see what she was working on. 

Was this a violation of privacy? Probably, but I was too curious. 

The screen was split down the middle, and my eyes first went to where the words magically appeared, filling up a blank document. A smile crept onto my face, glad that the writer’s block Bristol had alluded to downstairs had vanished. Movement on the other half of the screen caught my eye, and I nearly swallowed my gum when I saw what she was watching as she banged out the words. 

Banged. You’ve got that right.

My sweet Dakota was watching porn. And not regular girl-on-guy porn. A woman was being spit-roasted violently on-screen, one man’s cock shoved far down her throat while another took her from behind. 

Tearing my eyes away from the action, I focused more intently on what she was writing, reading over her shoulder. 

Growling, Noah commands, “Get down on your fucking knees.”

Fuck. I love the hard edge to his voice when he is close to losing control. Almost as much as I love having his cock in my mouth. 

Dropping to my knees without hesitation, I peer up at him, awaiting my next instruction.

Noah grips my hair, forcing my head back. “This dick isn’t going to suck itself, princess. Open wide. I’ve got a game to win tonight, and you’re my lucky charm.”

Yes, I was. The past four games I’d gotten on my knees for Noah, the Renegades had won. Most notably, with Noah scoring the game-winning goal. Even if I didn’t love sucking his cock, I wouldn’t be the one to break their streak.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, stumbling back in shock. 

Not paying attention—my mind trying to reconcile what I just witnessed—my foot caught on the edge of her footboard, and I crashed to the ground. 

Sprawled out, I had the perfect view of Dakota spinning around in her desk chair, eyes going wide as her cheeks flamed red. Ripping the headphones off, both hands flew up to cover her face as she groaned. “Oh my God.”

Stunned, I said in a daze, “Hannah was right. I can’t believe it.”

A frustrated noise sounded behind her hands, her words muffled. “Just go.”

“So, you’re really writing a dirty hockey book? That’s a thing?” 

Peeking through her fingers, she whispered, “Yes. Now, if you could please leave. It was nice knowing you.”

Regaining my bearings, I sat up, crawling to where she sat. Sitting up on my knees, I peeled her hands away until I could see her beautifully red face. “Please tell me you see the irony here. You think I’m going to run because of what you do for a living?” I chuckled. “Haven’t I proven I don’t give up that easily?”

The sound of grunts and groans leaked from her headphones, discarded on the desk, and when she followed my line of sight, she turned away, slamming the laptop shut. 

My chuckle breached the awkward silence. “I’ve seen porn before, you know.” I didn’t offer up that I hadn’t needed to watch it recently as the woman sitting before me had become muse enough.

Shaking her head, Dakota looked skyward. “Thanks for sharing.”

Gripping the seat of her chair, I spun her to face me. “Part of the writing process?”

She shrugged. “Kinda? When I’m writing a spicy scene, it helps get me into the right headspace. The words start to flow. I don’t know what it is.”

“Spicy seems such a tame word for what those two guys were doing to that girl,” I teased.

A tiny bit of that signature fire entered her dark blue eyes, and she shoved my shoulder lightly. “Ever heard of discretion?”

Smirking, I retorted. “Oh, is this where you tell me you don’t oil up muscular torsos for your covers?”

She scoffed. “Please. That’s quickly becoming a thing of the past. Women are all about the discreet covers with either cartoon characters, or more abstract, with objects pertaining to the story.”

My brows rose. “Cartoons? Seriously?”

“Make no mistake. Those cutesy covers are a decoy. What’s inside on the pages is sizzling hot. And the best part? You can read them in public, and no one’s any the wiser.”

Bracing my hands on the arms of her desk chair, I caged her in. “Would you let me read one of your books?” I was genuinely curious to learn about her job—what I was quickly learning was her passion.

Trying to escape, she plastered her back against the chair. “That would be a hell no.”

“Why not?” I teased, dropping my voice. “Would be a useful instruction manual. Learning all your deepest and darkest desires.”

Dakota’s throat muscles worked as she swallowed, the insinuation that I would one day like to take our relationship to a physical level striking home.

Breathless, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Letting her off the hook, I pulled away, giving her some breathing room. “I come bearing an invitation.”

She tilted her head, suspicion written across her face. “An invitation? To a party?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I wanted to see if you would like to come to Thanksgiving at Jaxon and Natalie’s house.” When Dakota merely blinked at me, I added, “With me. If that wasn’t clear.”

“Um.” Dakota’s eyes darted around the room, and I watched as she attempted to rack her brain for an excuse to say no. “I can’t. I have plans.”

“Oh yeah?” I quirked an eyebrow. “With Bristol?”

She flinched, knowing Bristol would rat her out in a minute if she said yes, and that wasn’t true. Bristol was on my team and hadn’t been subtle in declaring our alliance.

“No. She’s spending the day with her family.”

“Okay. So, who are your plans with? A boyfriend I should be on the lookout for?” My smirk was automatic. I loved watching her squirm.

Narrowing her eyes, she grumbled, “Real cute.”

Flashing her a broad smile, I ducked my head. “Why, thank you.”

“With an ego to match,” Dakota muttered. Taking a deep breath, she replied to my original question. “You don’t know them.”

“That’s fair,” I mused. “Well, if you won’t come with me, I would love to accompany you wherever you’re headed.” 

Calling her bluff, I sat back and waited for her next move.

Satisfaction coursed through my veins when it became apparent that I’d backed her into a corner. It was a calculated risk, offering to crash her plans. I was fully prepared to bow out of a family and friends Thanksgiving to spend it with Dakota. I didn’t get many full days off and wanted to spend it with her. 

Sighing, she huffed. “Fine. You got me. I don’t have plans.”

“Great.” I clapped my hands like it was a done deal. “So, you’ll come with me?”

Timid blue eyes met mine as she chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. We’re just friends, and this sounds like a family affair. Not sure I should be meeting your parents, even if I have already met your brother and sister-in-law.”

She didn’t know it yet, but in Natalie’s mind, Dakota was already family. Bringing over food for her and the kids while the team was out of town had sealed the deal. Natalie didn’t let people in easily. But once she did? There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for the people she cared about. 

I was fortunate that Jaxon had brought her into my life. She knew what it was like to struggle under the weight of expectations you would never reach, and saw me drowning. Natalie provided a life raft before anchoring me in a way that allowed me to keep moving forward—even on days when it felt impossible.

Setting Dakota’s fears aside about an awkward “meet the parents” moment, I replied, “Found out this morning that my parents are stuck in Minnesota. An early snowstorm blew through, and flights are canceled.”

“Oh.” It was written on her face that she was out of excuses.

“It messed up plans for a lot of people here in Hartford. Liv’s family—you met her at the hospital—is in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and in the same storm’s path. They were going to have their own Thanksgiving, and my mom was going to cook at Natalie and Jaxon’s. Usually, it’s her sisters-in-law, Amy and Lucy who cook the meal, but with newborns, they were planning on taking a year off. So, everyone decided to converge on the Slate compound and have a good old-fashioned Friendsgiving catered instead.” 

Boldy taking her hand, I asked, “So, friend, will you join us?”

Dakota sighed. “What happens if I politely decline?”

I shrugged. “That’s no problem. It’s fully within your rights to do so. Just know that I will be wherever you are.”

“Are you seriously blackmailing me into attending Thanksgiving at your brother’s house?” 

She eyed me carefully, but I could see the tiniest hint of humor in those blue depths. I could only imagine the type of banter she wrote in her books. I was more determined than ever to find a covert way of snagging a copy and discovering what made this girl tick.

“Blackmail is such an ugly word,” I said in mock disdain. “I prefer to view it as strategic coercion.”

“Call it what you will,” Dakota shot back. “But it means the same thing. Don’t forget who you’re dealing with. I make a living on finding ways to express equivalent ideas with different words.”

Puffing my chest, I grinned. “So . . . What you’re saying is you’re impressed with my linguistic skills. Dare I say they’re author-worthy?”

The tiniest hint of a smile crept onto her lips. “Let’s not get carried away. Best to leave the writing to the professionals.”

“Fair enough.” I nodded my agreement. “Is that a yes to Thanksgiving?”

Raising an eyebrow, I could sense the last-ditch effort coming my way. “You would be happy to have me there under duress?”

At the risk of scaring her away, I was desperate for her to know where she stood with me. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.” Blue eyes widened at that admission, but she didn’t shy away, so I pressed further. “Don’t you get it yet? You’re the main attraction in my life.”

A slight gasp slipped from her perfect pink lips. “Me?”

Taking one of her hands, I brought the knuckles to my lips, gracing it with a soft kiss, my eyes never leaving hers. “Yes, you. Please spend the day with me.”

Swallowing, her voice took on a husky quality when she said, “Fine.” Clearing her throat, she asked, “What can I bring?”

“Just yourself.”

The determined glint in her eyes tipped me off that that answer wouldn’t fly. 

“Nope. I refuse to crash this holiday empty-handed.” 

I tried to reason with her. “Seriously, Dakota. You don’t know what these things are like. They could feed an army with the amount of food.”

“My mom raised me to always bring something when invited as a guest. It’s non-negotiable, Braxton.” She lifted her chin, daring me to argue further. 

Smiling, I couldn’t even be mad at her. She wouldn’t be the Dakota I was developing feelings for if she didn’t push back. When her feisty side came out to play, it might be my favorite. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she used it in the bedroom. If the type of porn she chose to watch was any indication, I might be in for a wild ride. 

That was if she ever let me past her walls. We were taking baby steps, and I wasn’t going anywhere. Not when I had this unicorn of a woman before me. 

“I heard the meal you brought to Natalie’s was one of your mom’s. She loved it, by the way. Hasn’t been able to stop raving about it since we got back from that trip. She’s been hounding me to get the recipe.”

Dakota blushed, dropping her eyes to her lap and nodding. “It was one of my favorites. I asked her to make it for my birthday every year.” She chuckled to herself. “Not like she didn’t make it at least once a month anyway. But she never refused my request.”

Squeezing her hand, I mused, “Sounds like she was a great mom.”

Eyes fluttering shut, Dakota whispered, “The best,” as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

My heart ached inside my chest at having made her cry. I couldn’t begin to imagine the all-consuming pain of losing your only parent. 

“Will you tell me more about her?” I asked softly, needing her to know I was there for her. “I’d love to know more about the woman who raised such an incredible daughter.”

Two more tears leaked out from behind her tightly shut lids. Shaking her head, Dakota’s voice was thick. “It’s still too hard.”

Nodding, even though she couldn’t see me, I reached up to wipe the wetness from her face with the pad of my thumb. “Okay. Just know I’m here any time you need. I don’t care if I’m traveling on the road with the team; reach out. I’ll always take your call.”

“Thank you.” Pulling her hand from my grasp, she brought both of hers up to rub across her cheeks. 

“I’d really love it if your mom made an impression on our first Thanksgiving together. Maybe another famous recipe you’ve been hiding?”

Lowering her hands, red-rimmed eyes stared back at me. “Really?”

“Really. Thanksgiving is for reconnecting with loved ones. Your mom should be there in spirit.”

Shaking her head, she huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “You are so different than I thought you’d be.”

Smirking, I hedged, “Is that a good thing?”

Flashing me the tiniest smile, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m beginning to think so.”

Warmth spread through my chest, and my brain screamed to kiss her, but I knew it was too soon. She wasn’t ready, even if I was. 

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there staring at each other in silence before she asked, “What time should I be ready?”

“I’m actually going to be running a little bit behind. If you don’t mind being late, I can get you around two, or you can head over yourself at noon. It tends to be an all-day affair.” I chuckled. “We don’t often get full days off during the season, so go figure, we’d want to spend most of it with each other. But I guess, in a way, the team is like our family, right?”

Dakota cut her gaze to the floor, and she pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. “Right,” she whispered.

Confused and terrified that I set us back, not knowing what I’d done wrong, I reached out a hand to touch her but dropped it halfway there. “I’m sorry.” It was the only thing I could think to say.

Dropping her chin to her knees, her gaze held mine. “It’s fine. You have somewhere else to be?”

Oh God. With her perception of athletes, Levi in particular, she probably thought I was stringing her along, double dipping on the holiday with another woman. 

Eager to set her mind at ease, I shouted, “No!” When she shrank back, I realized my mistake. Running a hand over my face, I tried again. “Yes, I have somewhere to be, but it’s not what you think.” Taking a deep breath, I explained, “I help serve a meal at the Hartford Community Soup Kitchen downtown. That’s why I can’t make it here to get you until two.”

Blinking at me, she asked, “You’re serving Thanksgiving at a soup kitchen?”

“Yeah.” I dipped my head. “I’ve been blessed to always have a roof over my head and food in my belly. It’s important to give back to those who are less fortunate. Most of the guys on the team can write checks to support worthy causes, but for now, I can only volunteer my time. It’s not much, but it’s something. Or, at least, I hope it is.”

“Can—” Her words had my head snapping up, and she paused. “Can I come with you?”

Hope bloomed in my chest. “Of course. I’d like that.”

The tiniest corner of her lips turned up, and she replied, “Then it’s a date.”

The air whooshed from my lungs. Was I dreaming? Had she really just said that? Was she finally giving me a chance?

Dakota’s smile grew wider at my physical response. “Finally managed to render him speechless. Point for Dakota.”

Not wanting to press my luck, I pushed off the ground, shoving both hands in my pockets. Flashing her with a wink, I replied, “Pick you up at nine on Thursday.”

Leaving her bedroom, I fist-pumped the air as soon as I was out of sight. 

This was it. Dakota had opened the door the tiniest crack. It was up to me to get her to throw it open wide and let me inside.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 13

Dakota

Braxton picked me up as promised and drove us downtown to the food kitchen. It had been two days, but I was still in shock that this was how he chose to spend his morning and early afternoon on Thanksgiving. There had been subtle hints he wasn’t like the rest, but I still never saw it coming. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to see it—a defense mechanism of sorts. 

But now, there was no denying that Braxton was a good man, profession be damned. 

Helping me out of the car, the picture of the perfect gentleman, he kept hold of my hand as we walked down the sidewalk to the entrance to the building. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the feel of his warm palm against mine. It provided a comfort I didn’t know I needed and now craved. 

Pushing on the door, he held it open for me to enter before him. The bustle of activity shocked me the second I stepped inside. We’d gone from city sidewalk to busy kitchen in the blink of an eye. 

People who I assumed were fellow volunteers were hard at work. All hands were on deck, and I wondered how many would be fed today in this location. I knew firsthand how much these meals meant to people down on their luck and struggling for one reason or another. 

A woman saw us standing in the doorway and rushed over, a smile on her face. “Well, look who it is!” Her eyes cut to me. “And you’ve brought a friend.”

Braxton placed a hand on my lower back, addressing the woman. “Heather, this is Dakota. She asked to join me today, and I know you’d have my head if I turned down an extra set of hands on the busiest day of the year.”

Heather beamed at Braxton before turning that smile on me. “Welcome, Dakota. And he’s right. Extra hands are always appreciated. Especially today.”

Smiling back at her, I replied, “Happy to help.”

“Wonderful.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s get you both to work. The doors open at eleven, and there’s still tons to do before then!”

Leading us to a workstation where we’d be peeling potatoes, she handed us both aprons before pointing out the sink to wash our hands. When we returned to the stainless steel table, a giant bowl of potatoes was waiting, with empty bowls to put the peeled ones that other volunteers would take to be boiled before mashing. 

Donning the apron, Braxton rolled up the sleeves of his sweater before getting right to work. I got caught up in watching how he moved with practiced ease, gliding the peeler in even strokes along the potato before dropping it into an empty bowl. 

Sensing my eyes on him, he turned, flashing me a smile. “Enjoying the show? I thought you came here to help.”

Blushing, I avoided his gaze, instead fumbling with my apron strings. Setting about peeling my first potato, I remarked, “This isn’t your first time, is it?”

I caught the shake of his head from the corner of my eye as he answered, “No. I’ve been coming since I arrived in Hartford. This is my fifth Thanksgiving.”

Turning to face him, my potato forgotten, I asked, “Do you know how much these meals mean to those who need them?”

Braxton tilted his head. “I have some idea. Most are quiet, but a few are overly expressive in their gratitude.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t feel like enough. I can tell many of them are homeless, and I wish I could do more.”

The breath froze in my lungs at his words. He wasn’t doing this for publicity. He genuinely cared. 

Quietly, I said, “To them, this meal is everything.”

“Yeah?” One of his dark eyebrows rose.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. Taking a deep breath, I offered a piece of myself—one I’d only shared with Bristol. “My mom, she was too proud to take the help of others.” Braxton’s amber eyes held mine, imploring me to continue, so I did. “Things were rough after my dad . . .” I couldn’t finish that sentence, and God bless him, Braxton didn’t press me to. “Anyway, we scraped by but went without a lot of luxuries. A big Thanksgiving dinner was never in the cards. Maybe that’s why I like the meal I brought to Natalie so much. It was close enough to the real deal that I didn’t miss it. So, if you ever think this isn’t enough, just know it is and more.”

Wiping his hands on a towel, he reached up to cup my cheek, and I let him. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

He had no idea that my walls were crumbling. Or maybe he did, and that’s why he was so gentle with me now. 

I couldn’t help but wonder if my mom was watching on. Or if, perhaps, she’d placed me directly into Braxton’s path, knowing he would be the one to defy expectations, the one who would patiently wait to make it past my prickly exterior. 

I barely knew him, but something told me that what we shared—even limited as it was—wasn’t typical. Bristol had brought plenty of guys home over the years before shacking up with Nix, and most of them had been after one thing and one thing only—sex. Braxton was genuine, taking his time getting to know me, even as I pushed him away. Sure, he had those flashes of flirtation, but they were always light-hearted. I never felt pressured to give him something more, something I wasn’t ready for.

Braxton Slate might very well be the real deal. And God, if that didn’t scare the living daylights out of me. 

Arriving at the Slate residence, Braxton parked at the end of a long line of luxury cars lining the driveway. Nervously, I wiped my palms against the dark denim of my jeans as he rounded the hood and opened the door for me. Taking my hand, he helped me out of the vehicle before searching my eyes. 

It must have been evident that I was apprehensive walking into a gathering where I was the outsider, so he gave a reassuring squeeze, reaching up with his free hand to tuck the curls framing my face behind my ear. 

He smiled at me as his soothing voice offered comfort. “It’s just friends, remember? And if at any point you become uncomfortable, say the word, and we’ll leave. I mean it.”

Dropping my gaze, I gave a slight nod, releasing his hand to reach into the backseat to grab the small cooler with my offering for the meal.

My anxiety shot through the roof when Braxton gestured toward the double front doors of the massive home. Taking a tentative step forward, I was wound so tightly that when he placed a hand at the small of my back, I jumped, mumbling a quick, “Sorry” when his brows drew down in concern. 

Braxton rapped his knuckles against the giant doors but didn’t wait for a response before turning the knob and ushering me inside.

I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the palpable warmth audible from the entryway. Laughter and love hung in the air, settling over me like a weighted blanket, easing any fears of my presence being an intrusion on this friend group.

“Come on.” Braxton latched the door behind us, guiding me closer to where the voices sounded, several conversations layering over each other. 

Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I calmed my racing heart as the family room, filled with smiling faces, came into view. 

Hannah spied our arrival first, calling out, “My naughty new bestie is here!”

All heads turned in our direction, and the heat creeping onto my cheeks blazed like an inferno. I only recognized a few faces, and Hannah ensured I made a hell of a first impression. 

She ran over to hug me, her blond giant of a man trailing. Pulling back, she smirked at Braxton, remarking, “Well done.”

Shuffling his feet beside me, I couldn’t spare him more than a glance before Hannah took my hand, tugging me toward her man. “Dakota, meet Cal.”

Smiling lovingly at Hannah, he offered his hand to shake. “It’s nice to formally meet you, Dakota. Allow me to apologize again for her behavior at the spa. She gets a little unruly from time to time.”

Hannah’s hand reached out to smack his chest. “Don’t apologize for me! I’m not sorry.”

“You never are,” Cal muttered before winking at me. “Nine times out of ten, she misbehaves to provoke a reaction from me.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Hannah confirmed, “It’s true.” Leaning in, she whispered, “And I bet you know just how good those punishments can be.”

Cue the flaming face again. I was used to Bristol’s sexually suggestive mouth, but she had never been quite so bold in public. Hannah was a breed all her own. This was her world, and the rest of us were simply living in it.

Natalie’s voice cut through to my right. “Hannah, leave the poor girl alone. Braxton can’t afford to have you scaring this one off. I like her.”

Set slightly at ease, I turned to face our hostess, who beamed at me before throwing her arms around my neck. “We’re so glad you could make it.” Releasing her grasp, she gestured to Braxton. “I told this one not to take no for an answer.”

Peeking at the man by my side, I asked, “Is that so?”

He shrugged with a smirk, teasing Natalie. “Don’t you have enough sisters?”

Winking, she replied, “There’s still one open spot left.”

Stunned, I stared at the pair of them.

Were they implying what I thought they were? Braxton and I had met only a couple of months ago. Had the thought really crossed people’s minds that we were already in it for the long haul? Or at least, they were hopeful that we might be? 

How could they be so confident when I was still reeling, trying to figure out what Braxton and I were? Yes, there were butterflies in my stomach when he flashed me that perfectly imperfect crooked grin. Yes, I thought about him when he wasn’t around. And yes, he was tearing down the walls I’d built about my heart brick by brick. But none of that equated to a relationship.

Then, a thought struck me. What if Braxton already felt as though we were a couple? What if I was the last to realize I was already his?

That I want to be his.

Out of nowhere, a potential future with a man I barely knew flashed before my eyes. Spending nights together talking, sharing our deepest secrets and fears. Me attending one of his games to support what he did for a living. Baring my soul, allowing him to read my writing, and eventually finding our way to a place where we couldn’t live without the other.

I’d figured I might meet a man someday and open up my jaded heart to love, but Braxton had blown in out of left field. I never saw him coming until he snuck up on me, and I felt powerless to put the brakes on now. We were rolling down the track too fast, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to get off this train.

The man in question’s hand landed on my shoulder, saying to Natalie, “Dakota insisted on bringing something, even though I told her we would have enough food to feed an army.”

Brown eyes sparkling, Natalie exclaimed, “Oh! I’ve told everyone about the casserole you made for us. I’m sure whatever you brought will be another hit!”

I couldn’t help but smile back at her; she exuded such kindness. Lifting the cooler, I explained, “I know it’s seasonal, but key lime pie is always an instant classic in my book. There’s so much savory on Thanksgiving that I figured having a little sweet and tart to cleanse the palate would be nice.”

Natalie gushed, “That sounds amazing! Did you make it?”

Braxton answered for me. “She sure did.” He squeezed my shoulder. “It was her mom’s recipe.”

A sympathetic smile graced Natalie’s lips. “I’m sure you’re missing her today.”

Dammit. Why were these people so nice? Tears burned behind my eyes as I furiously blinked to keep them at bay. My voice was whisper-quiet in my reply. “Yes.”

Taking the cooler from my hand, she disappeared without another word, and Braxton pulled me into his arms, sensing my need for comfort. How did he always know exactly what I needed?

Dipping his head to my ear, he asked, “You okay?”

Nodding into his chest, I took a shaky breath. “Yeah. Holidays are hard.”

Pulling back, he thumbed the moisture from my cheeks. “She can never be replaced, but this found family is pretty great. As you can probably tell, they’re already holding a spot open for you to join it.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Maybe. Gotta get through the trial run of a major holiday first.”

“Be yourself. That’s more than enough.”

Jaxon’s voice broke through the bubble of our private yet public interaction. “Dakota. So glad you could join us.”

Stepping out of Braxton’s arms, I took a calming breath, throwing on a smile to greet his brother. “Thank you so much for having me.”

Waving a dismissive hand, Jaxon’s crooked smile matched that of his brother’s. “The more, the merrier. As Braxton mentioned, we always have too much food.”

Stepping forward, Jaxon pulled Braxton into a hug. As they broke apart Braxton teased, “Nice of you to put a shirt on this time.”

Smirking, Jaxon shrugged. “I’m a dad first. You know that.”

Okay, Braxton’s older brother is kind of adorable. 

The story Braxton shared with me that night in the hospital had stuck with me. The one about Jaxon taking in Natalie’s older kids and claiming them as his own. There were no doubts I was looking at a good man—more than that, a good father—and from what I could tell, he was Braxton’s benchmark.

And, damn, if that’s how nicely Braxton’s gonna age? Yes, please.

“These things can be intimidating the first time,” Jaxon explained. “My first Christmas with this group wasn’t the smoothest, but it was worth it. They’re some of the best people I’ve ever known, and they love hard. You won’t find a more supportive family.”

Braxton looped an arm around my waist, asking, “Want a drink before we make the rounds?”

Leaning into his muscular body beside me, I shook my head. “No. I’ll psych myself out if we put it off too long.”

“Fair enough.” He led me further into the room, and we stopped before the people scattered across multiple couches and seated on the floor.

Everyone’s eyes were locked on us, and I wanted to hide behind Braxton but forced myself to be brave. I could do this.

Without hesitation and with a hint of pride in his voice, Braxton introduced me, “Guys, this is Dakota.” Everyone smiled back at me, offering waves, as Braxton moved around the room, offering so many names I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep them all straight. 

He gestured to a broad black-haired man and a full-figured redheaded woman. “First, we have Liam, Natalie’s brother-in-law, and his wife, Amy, who is Natalie’s oldest friend. They used to live here with her after the divorce but now live next door.” Oh, I remembered a mention of that. They must have the baby Natalie had mentioned having the same birthday as Max.  

Next came the bottom-heavy blonde nurse I’d met in the hospital and a shorter but muscular man with reddish-brown hair. “I’m sure you remember Liv.” She gave me a bright smile. “And this is her partner, Benji. He plays for the Comets on the same line with me and Jaxon. They have a little boy, Knox, running around here somewhere.”

A dark-haired couple was seated on the ground with a baby girl eating her toes between them. “Then, we have Lucy, Natalie’s sister-in-law, her husband, Preston, and their baby girl, Hazy.” I couldn’t help but smile at the chubby baby with pink cheeks.

“Nice to meet everyone,” I offered, overwhelmed but gaining confidence with every passing minute.

“How about that drink now?” Braxton said in my ear.

“God, yes,” I breathed out.

“That’s what I thought.” His tone held a trace of laughter. Squeezing my side, he added, “You did great by the way.”

“Thanks.” I let him lead me to a wet bar off the side of the kitchen.

He gestured to the various bottles and asked, “What’ll it be?”

“White wine is just fine.”

“You got it.”

Reaching down, he opened a wine chiller beneath the countertop, grabbed a bottle, and held it up for my inspection. With me nodding at his choice of a Pinot Grigio, he plucked a stemless wine glass from the cabinet and poured a healthy amount. When he offered me the glass, I took a sip, letting the flavors burst on my tongue and settle any nerves that remained. Braxton grabbed a beer for himself, and we returned to the living room.

As he pulled me to sit with him on a chaise lounge, I remained silent, watching the exchanges between friends and lovers. 

Most of the couples were in each other's space as if they couldn’t bear the thought of not breathing the same air. There didn’t appear to be any hesitation regarding public displays of affection. 

Hannah brazenly sat on Cal’s lap, running her hands over his muscular arms while she spoke to her friends. 

Liam kept a firm hand on his wife’s leg at all times, his eyes never leaving her for more than a moment, almost as if he were a guard dog, always on watch. 

Jaxon’s arms were looped around Natalie’s waist from behind, and he kept dipping his head into the crook of her neck.

Preston and Lucy lay on the ground, side by side, tickling their baby’s tummy and laughing at her squeals before sharing a look of pure, unfiltered love.

Liv was curled into Benji’s side as she held baby Max. Their tones were hushed as they stared adoringly down at the newborn, but I could have sworn I heard Benji muse, “I can’t believe how small they are.”

Quietly, I asked Braxton, “So, what are their stories?”

Grinning, he teased, “Is this your author brain working overtime?”

“Maybe. I don’t often see love so blatantly on display like this in real life. It makes me curious how they all came together.”  

Chuckling softly, Braxton mused, “They are giving off strong couple goals, aren’t they?” Dipping his head beside my ear, his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Best to start at the top. That would be Natalie and Jaxon. They are the keystone couple. Everyone else is tied to the pair of them in some way.”

Nodding, I prompted, “She was married before, right?”

“Yeah, that’s where this gets interesting. She married—no joke—a prince right out of high school.”

Stunned, I pulled back to meet his eye to make sure he wasn’t fucking with me, but he simply nodded his head in confirmation. 

“Wow,” I breathed out. “Who would leave a prince to start slumming it with a hockey player?” I teased.

When I sat back, he explained, “It wasn’t the fairy tale most would imagine. I never met the guy myself, but from what I’ve heard? He was a real piece of work. Put her and those three kids through the wringer.”

I could relate to having a crappy high-profile dad.

“How long were they together?”

“Married ten years. Believe it or not, Jaxon was in love with her from the day they met as teenagers, but she was already married and had her first baby. Somehow, he managed to get his chance with her right after the divorce. And when I say chance, I mean they hooked up and she got pregnant. Jaxon spent the better part of a year convincing Natalie that he wasn’t going anywhere and would wait until she was ready, no matter how long it took. Without Charlie, who knows if they would even be together today. Which would be a real loss because he fucking worships her, and she believes he’s the white knight that he is.”

Huh. What if my mom hadn’t been so adamant that my dad was coming back all those years? Would she have found her Jaxon? Someone who could’ve loved me as their own child? My heart ached with the possibilities lost. 

“That brings us to Amy and Liam,” Braxton continued, and I shifted my eyes to the beautiful redhead with her hulking husband, who had eyes only for her. “Liam was Natalie’s brother-in-law during her first marriage. If you wanna talk prince with a hero complex, that’s him. He needs to save everyone. That’s how he ended up married to Natalie’s best friend. She needed help—a husband—for a promotion at work, so he offered up his services. Didn’t take much time for that marriage to become very real. And it’s a good thing, too, because he used to be such a broody asshole, and she’s softened him. But don’t get me started on how fiercely protective he is of anyone he loves. It’s only gotten worse since Amy got pregnant and their son, Nate, was born.”

Braxton gestured to the couple on the floor with their baby. “After that came Lucy and Preston. Lucy is Liam’s little sister, and Preston was his best friend growing up. But from what I gather, Lucy and Preston never got along. And that didn’t change once their marriage was arranged by her grandfather, the King of Belleston—that’s the country in Europe where they’re from.”

I gawked at him. “Stop it.”

Holding two fingers up, he swore, “Scout’s honor.”

“People really still do that?”

He shrugged. “Apparently. I’ve heard some epic stories about how they tortured each other for months, trying to get the other to call off their arrangement. But both of them were too stubborn and neither budged. Somewhere along the way, hate turned into love, and Preston has been the biggest supporter of her fashion brand, Addy June.”

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of that.” Not that I could ever afford designer prices, but Bristol always had an eye out at consignment shops for rare finds, and I could have sworn she brought one home a few years back.

“The most epic of all would be Hannah and Cal.” Braxton chuckled under his breath. “Hannah has been Natalie’s best friend since high school, and until last year, Cal played for the Comets. And oh boy, are they fire and ice. She spent years pushing his buttons, and he would do the same right back. I’ve mentioned that Hannah is our coach’s daughter, but I didn’t explain that the unbreakable rule was that you didn’t touch his daughters. And no one was willing to test if he was serious.”

I had a feeling I knew exactly where this was headed. “Let me guess. Hannah wasn’t one to take no for an answer.”

“Bingo. Urban legend has it that Cal left a voicemail on her phone telling her just how crazy she drove him, and that was game over. Hannah made it no secret she was after a player, and when she realized she could break one, he became her target. They kept their relationship secret for a long time, but the truth can never stay hidden for long. Coach was pissed, but Hannah got her way in the end.”

“That leaves one more couple.”

“Benji and Liv,” Braxton confirmed. “Now, they’re a fairly new couple and even newer to this group. Well, at least Liv is. Benji’s been on the Comets for years. We only met Liv in September.”

That didn’t make any sense. The night we met in the hospital, she acted as if she’d known everyone for years, including Braxton. She seemed excited that she had been able to assist in the births of two of her friends. How could that be if she was just as new to this group as I was?

“Wait. I thought you said they have a kid?”

“They do. Knox is eight, but Benji didn’t learn about him until this past summer. Went home to run a hockey clinic after they won the championship and ran across Knox. Liv never told him that she was pregnant when he left to play juniors, and last summer was the first time he came home since then. I guess she never moved on, and Benji was determined to win back his first love. So, here they are, a happy little family.”

“Unreal,” I uttered in amazement.

This family was a walking list of romance tropes! You had royalty, sports, accidental pregnancy, marriage of convenience, grumpy sunshine, forced proximity, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, brother’s best friend, secret baby, and forbidden romance. I could easily write five or six books from inspiration gathered in the last fifteen minutes. 

That begged the question. What trope would Braxton and I be? Obviously, sports, but it had to be more than that. 

Virgin, you dummy.

I nearly groaned as the realization hit me. Braxton had been so patient with me, but I wondered if that might be the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. As an athlete, surely, he had experience, and if the road took us down that path, would my naiveté prove to be too much for him to handle? Watching loads of porn was enough to write super-hot sex scenes, but I was fairly certain it wouldn’t overcome practical inexperience. I mean, how many men went down the porn rabbit hole and were still terrible lovers? 

Before I could fall too deep into the depths of despair regarding a relationship I wasn’t even sure would come to pass, a woman with silver hair pulled back into an elegant French twist entered the room, a black-haired baby held in her arms, which she promptly eased into Liam’s open arms.

Nodding in her direction, I asked, “And her?”

“Liam and Lucy’s mom, Crown Princess Adelaide. In informal settings, she goes by Addy. She’s been here visiting since the boys were born, but she’ll have to return home soon.”

Natalie had mentioned she was close with her ex-mother-in-law the last time I visited. I couldn’t even begin to imagine. As soon as my dad left, we never heard from his family again. How you could throw away blood like that, I would never understand. In the end, I was probably better off, as they were no better than fair-weather fans, only sticking around when times were good.

This family had no idea how lucky they were to have each other.

Max began to fuss in Benji’s arms, and he jumped up, joking, “That’s the alarm signaling it’s time to pass him back off to his parents.”

Everyone laughed, including Natalie, who cradled her baby boy close to her chest, shushing him gently. Peering down at the infant held in her arms, she mused, “I still can’t believe how much he and Nate look alike. They’re not even related but could pass for twins.”

Hannah snickered. “Nate looks like he ate his twin.”

Cal tickled her side as a low rumble came from deep within Liam’s chest in warning. Braxton wasn’t kidding when he said that man was protective; he couldn’t even take what was clearly a joke.

Undeterred, Hannah kept going. “Seriously. I give him a month before he’s bigger than Hazy.”

Lucy fed into it, lifting Hazy next to where Liam held Nate. The baby boy wasn’t far off. He was a hefty little thing for being only a month old. 

Cuddling her daughter, Lucy looked down at her nephew. “I think you’re right, Nat. All three of these little munchkins bear a resemblance.”

Amy placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “I think their black hair is making everyone think that. Liam was disappointed when Nate didn’t come out with red hair.”

Hannah chimed in. “What did you expect? We all know how strong those Remington genes are.”

The lighthearted atmosphere shifted, and a ripple of unease rolled through the room at those words. It was so palpable that I couldn’t suppress a shudder.

What the hell just happened?

Turning to Braxton, his face reflected my own confusion. Hannah leaned over from our right, whispering, “Did you feel that, too?” When I nodded in confirmation, she smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it. 

Straightening up on Cal’s lap, I watched on in fascination as a wicked gleam entered her eyes and her lips curled into a grin. 

Oh, this is going to be good.

Taking a deep breath, Hannah declared, “At least he escaped becoming a member of the Fire Crotch Club.”

Liam nearly forgot he held a baby as he lunged for her, and Hannah squealed, placing Cal’s body in front of her own like a shield.

Snarling, Liam’s nostrils flared. “You’ve taken it too far this time, Hannah.”

Peeking out from behind Cal’s back, she replied, “Tell me how well that situation worked out for Amy.”

“Okay! Everyone back down.” Amy stepped up to her husband, tugging on his arm. When he didn’t budge, she said softly, “Honey, you know she loves to rile you up. It’s Hannah. She doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body. It’s all shock factor.”

Hannah held her hands up. “You make it so easy, Liam. Chill out once in a while, and I might target someone else.”

I stared wide-eyed at the exchange. Hannah clearly had no regard for her personal safety, as she had intentionally provoked the second largest man in the room—the only one larger being the one she currently hid behind.  

Natalie leaned over the back of the couch where Braxton and I sat, a smile in her voice when her head came between us. “Welcome to the family, Dakota. I can’t wait til you find your voice and start sparring with the rest of us.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 14

Braxton

Jeez, Natalie, chill out. 

As if the display Hannah had put on wasn’t enough, Natalie was going to scare Dakota off with talk of becoming a member of the family—found or not. She had no idea how hard I’d worked to get Dakota through the door today, and she was seconds away from ruining all the progress I’d made. 

Thankfully, a yell of “Uncle Basston!” had every head turning toward the ball of energy barreling right toward us, the earlier scuffle quickly forgotten.

Knowing what was coming, I held my arms out wide, bracing for impact as Charlie didn’t slow down on approach, launching herself at my chest. She might only be three, but that girl was strong, and the air was knocked from my lungs at the collision. 

Crawling onto my lap, she circled her arms around my neck, and I hugged her tightly. My youngest niece was fierce. She worked hard at keeping up with the boys—Beau and Knox especially, as they were only a few years older than her. She didn’t take shit from anyone, and I knew she would be responsible for Jaxon’s first gray hairs. 

“Charlie girl!” I pulled back, bopping her on the nose, and she giggled. It was easily my favorite sound in the world. Turning to Dakota, I explained, “This is my niece, Charlie.”

A brilliant smile lit up Dakota’s face, and she waved at Charlie. “Well, hi there, Charlie. My name is Dakota.”

Charlie’s tiny brow wrinkled, and her lips pursed in thought. Slowly, she said, “Hi, Da-pota.”

It took everything in me not to chuckle and embarrass my niece, but damn if it wasn’t the cutest thing that she couldn’t yet say certain names right. Mine also was a casualty with the X-sound in the middle.

Grabbing my face with two hands, Charlie demanded my attention, declaring, “I wanna play hockey!”

Smiling at the determined expression on her face, I asked, “Are the boys being mean and not letting you in on their game of mini sticks?”

She frowned, shaking her head. “No. I wanna go on the ice!”

Surprised, I glanced around the room. Well, at least what I could view around the toddler front and center in my field of vision. “I’m sorry. I think I’m in the wrong house. This desperate plea for help is not something I would expect to hear from one of Jaxon Slate’s kids.”

Natalie sighed. “She’s not handling the transition to big sister very well.”

Hannah chuckled. “Can’t say I blame her. Stars that shine as bright as us don’t like to share the spotlight.”

“Anyway,” Natalie continued. “She’s got it in her head that we will pay her more attention if she plays hockey, like Beau, since we’re always at the practice rink for him. That, and she’s always been a daddy’s girl and has grown up watching Jaxon play.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, there aren’t enough hours in the day with the team’s travel schedule and five kids.” She shot a glare at my brother. It was no secret that Max hadn’t been exactly planned.

“Don’t you worry,” Hannah cooed. “Auntie Hannah and Uncle Cal will teach that poor girl how to play.”

Hugging Charlie to my chest, I protested, “No way. That right falls to her blood uncle.”

Benji piped up. “I think I’ve proven most recently that I am the master at youth hockey training. Knox is lighting it up this season—his first season, I might add.”

Jaxon groaned. “I’m so glad no one thinks I’m capable of teaching my daughter how to skate or play.”

Seizing a rare opportunity to tease my older brother, I threw a jab. “Maybe she’s too intimidated to have you as her instructor. She requested me, and I don’t think I can say no to this sweet little face.”

Dakota jumped right in, offering, “She can join us during my lessons any time.”

Stunned, my head snapped to her, and a shy smile graced her perfect rosebud lips. Fuck, if we were alone, I wouldn’t have been able to resist kissing them. 

Bouncing Charlie, I declared, “That settles it. Charlie, you get to come on our next rink date.” I winked at Dakota, and she blushed. The color creeping onto her cheeks only made her look more beautiful.

I knew if she could survive the day with this group, I would be that much closer to sealing the deal. I wanted her for my own, and I would stop at nothing until I made that happen. 

Dakota was the missing piece from my life.

Was this how Jaxon felt when he first met Natalie? If it was, I felt sorry for the guy, having to sit on his hands for nearly a decade while she was married to another man, then having to battle past her demons to earn the trust of the woman he loved.

There was an all-consuming need to claim Dakota. And not just in a physical sense. I wanted exclusive access to her incredible mind, to learn what made her tick. I wanted to be the first person she thought of when she woke up every morning and the last one she pictured before falling asleep at night. God knows she was always at the forefront of my mind. I wanted her to claim me right back, to declare to the world that she was mine. 

She’d had me hooked since that first night by being the girl she portrayed to the world, but the glimpses she’d shared since then were what had me obsessed with discovering who she was beneath it all. There was no doubt that when she revealed her true self, I would fall helplessly at her feet. 

My heart already belonged to her, even if she hadn’t accepted it yet.

It’s going to feel fucking amazing when she gives in to what I already know. That she’s mine.

The world faded away as we stared at each other, but the bubble surrounding us burst when thundering footsteps sounded from the kitchen. 

“Yes! Uncle Braxton is here!” Beau called out from behind me.

Shifting Charlie in my arms, I turned to find Beau and Knox, side by side, mini sticks in their hands. Those two had only met briefly this past summer during Benji’s summer clinic back home in Michigan but became instant friends. Now that they lived in the same city—the same housing community, no less—they were inseparable. Not only that, but they also played on the same line for their youth hockey team, just like their dads, and the chemistry between them was off the charts. 

Knox was older by about a year and the fairer of the two, with dark blond hair like his mom and gray eyes like his dad. Beau, with his dark hair and brown eyes, had a slight advantage in being a hockey kid longer—not just in playing himself, but in living the life of a player’s child. Their competition level knew no bounds.

I caught Dakota’s smile from my peripheral vision as she remarked, “Very popular with the kids, aren’t you?”

Smirking, I nodded. “Allow me to introduce who we lovingly call Double Trouble. Beau is Jaxon and Natalie’s boy, and Knox belongs to Benji and Liv.”

Dakota eyed their sticks. “And hockey-obsessed like their dads, no doubt?”

“Damn straight!” Benji shouted.

Leaning in close, I grazed her ear with my lips, whispering, “You know you want to come over to the dark side. Stop fighting it.”

I was rewarded with the sweet vision of a shiver rolling down the length of her body. And when I pulled back, that physical reaction was paired with the stunning sight of her blue eyes darkened in lust. 

Before I could blink, those beautiful blue depths sparkled with mischief, and she smirked. “Then, I guess it’s time to put all those lessons to use.”

“What?”

Speaking to the boys, she asked, “You got a stick for me?”

Beau fist-pumped the air. “Yes! Game on!”

Game on, indeed.

Natalie and Jaxon’s basement spanned the entire length of the house, featuring walk-out access to their in-ground pool, which was currently drained and covered in preparation for winter. A healthy portion was sectioned off as an in-law suite, where Liam used to live, but now served as a guest apartment when Preston and Lucy visited from Manhattan. There was also an indoor sports court, home gym, movie theater, game room, and a large den. 

The boys led the way to the sports court, where the space was split in half. One side had a basketball hoop while the other was fashioned into a mini rink, boards and all. The only thing missing was ice. It was a hockey kid’s dream, and I’d witnessed my fair share of epic mini sticks battles in this room. 

But none of them would be more high stakes than the one we were about to play.

Amelia and Jameson must have been in one of the other lower-level rooms, and had heard the excited chatter echoing around the sports court and leaking into the hallway because they joined us not long after. Still juggling Charlie in my arms, I introduced my raven-haired thirteen-year-old niece and blond twelve-year-old nephew to Dakota. 

It was strange to think I was almost closer to their age than Jaxon’s, and I hoped as they grew older, they would view me as a cool uncle they could come to when their parents gave them a hard time.

Knox handed Dakota a stick and explained the rules. “Even strength teams, on your knees. First team to five goals wins.”

Glancing around, Dakota asked, “Okay, so who plays on which team?”

Beau surveyed those gathered in the room. “You challenged Uncle Braxton, so you can be one of the team captains. He can be the other. Challenger chooses their partner first.”

Charlie screamed, “I wanna PLAY!!!”

Her shrill voice had me wincing, but I knew what it was like to be the much younger sibling, being left out, so I advocated for her. “Looks like it’s gonna be three on three.” Beau and Knox groaned, but they’d have to suck it up. Turning to Jameson, I asked, “Are you in to make it even?”

Jameson nodded. “Sure.”

Dakota smiled at Amelia, noting she would be the only one left out. “Are you sure you don’t want to play? We can take turns.”

Amelia shook her head. “No, that’s okay. Might be more entertaining to watch this round.”

“Smart girl.” I winked in her direction. “This might get ugly.”

Widening her stance, Dakota challenged, “You’re talking an awfully big game over there.”

Stepping closer, I dropped my voice an octave. “Oh, Firefly, you’re going down.”

Determination glinted in her blue eyes, and I loved seeing her feisty personality come out to play. 

Gesturing to the boys, I prompted, “Your choice first, Captain.”

A corner of her lips twitched as she tried to hold back a smile, surveying her options. “I think it’s only fair that if one team has a Slate captain I even up the count. Beau, you’re with me.”

“Good choice.” I nodded my approval. Bouncing Charlie on my hip, I declared, “I choose Charlie girl.” She squealed in my arms, and I ducked my head to blow raspberries into her neck.

Dakota raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re that good? Taking a toddler handicap?”

I shrugged, a smile firmly planted on my face. “Don’t underestimate her. She’s small but mighty, and she’s been playing since she could walk.”

“Interesting,” she mused, pursing her lips. “Bold move, but your arrogance is showing. So, I guess that leaves me no choice but to take the other half of Double Trouble. Knox, get over here.”

Knox let out a whoop, and ran to join his best bud and the girl I was quickly falling for. Who knew she was hiding a competitive streak and the ability to trash talk?

“Jameson, lucky for you, you’re gonna be on the winning team by default.”

Moving to his place at my side, Jameson asked under his breath, “You’re gonna let her win, right?”

Eyes trained on the woman standing across from me, I replied, “Not a chance.” Raising my voice, I said loud enough for her to hear me, “She made her choice.”

Cocking a hip, Dakota was full of sass as she shot back, “Bring it on.”

Entering the mini rink, we dropped to our knees, and Amelia closed the board door behind us, holding the ball in her hand. Dakota and I lined up opposite each other at center “ice” while the rest of our team fell back into position behind us. Amelia counted to three and threw the ball into the rink. Immediately, I tackled Dakota to the ground, smacking the ball in Charlie’s direction and screaming, “Go, Charlie!”

Being a toddler, she was the only one allowed to remain on her feet, and she took off like a bullet with the ball on her stick. Dakota protested beneath me, “Hey! No fair!”

Smirking down at her, I countered, “I don’t remember anything in the rules that prohibits me from taking you out of the game.”

“Score!” Charlie cried.

Huffing when I let her up, Dakota gave me a playful glare. “So, that’s how we’re gonna play it?”

“I play to win, sweetheart.” I threw her a wink.

The next time the ball was tossed into the center, she was ready for me, swiping the ball to Beau before I got to her. Knox hustled to the net for the pass, and scored. “One to one!” He grinned triumphantly, high-fiving Beau.

The game went back and forth until it was four to four. The next goal would win. 

Dakota was red-faced and breathing heavily but wasn’t ready to give up. I had to hand it to her; she wanted the win almost as badly as I did. Almost.

“Throw the ball,” she gritted out to Amelia as she kneeled, poised for a final attack. 

Peeking over, I caught my niece biting back a smirk. She was old enough to realize what was going on here. It wouldn’t be long before she dipped her toes into the dating pool, and I bet she’d already had a crush or two. 

The count began, and I planned my next move. As soon as the ball flew in the air, I dropped my stick, lowered my shoulder, and threw Dakota over it. Holding on with one arm, I went for the boys next. Dakota beat on my lower back where she could reach, trying to get me to release her, but it was no use. Using my free arm, I wrapped it around Beau’s waist, keeping him immobile. Knox was so stunned that he didn’t see Jameson shooting from behind me, and the game was over. 

“Team Braxton wins!” I roared, setting Dakota down. 

Knox and Beau grumbled but congratulated us, as the good sports their dads had raised them to be. They then headed off, leaving their sticks behind. From the corner of my eye, I saw Amelia and Jameson lead Charlie from the room. 

Dakota’s panting filled the air, and I crawled closer, giving her my full attention. 

“Did you really think you could beat me?” I taunted, caging her in from above. 

Eyes full of fire, she spat back, “I almost did.”

“Almost doesn’t count.” Hovering over her prone form, I dipped my head, teasing the curve of her neck with my nose. She gasped, and I bit back a groan at how incredible she smelled. 

Her swallow was audible, but somehow, she managed to force out, breathless, “I’ll get you next time.”

Placing my lips right beside her ear, I whispered, “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” The words flew out on a moan.

Pressing my luck, I pulled back enough to be rewarded with the sight of her, stunningly flushed, lost to the connection we shared—the one she’d fought at every turn. My hand skated up her side where her sweater had ridden up, and her bare skin was hot, searing into the flesh of my palm. Instead of drawing away as I expected, Dakota arched into my touch, seeking more contact. 

My cock throbbed, hard behind the zipper of my fly, demanding action. He wouldn’t get any—not here, not now—but I didn’t intend to walk away from this opportunity empty-handed. 

Dakota’s lips were parted, silently begging me to taste them. 

Don’t mind if I do.

Dropping my forehead to hers, I willed my racing heart to calm down. I’d never been this nervous to kiss a girl in my life. Not even the very first time. This was special. She was special. And I knew there would be no going back once I claimed her lips with mine. 

Working up the nerve, I was a breath away from stealing that first sweet taste when Natalie’s voice called from a distance, “Dinner’s ready!”

And just like that, the trance was broken. Dakota scrambled out from beneath me, rising on shaky legs and pressing the back of her hand to her lips, no doubt feeling the shadow of what almost was our first kiss right there. 

Thanks a lot, sis.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 15

Braxton

Seated around the massive dining room table overflowing with food, with our plates full, everyone in attendance dug into the feast before us. Conversations were hushed between bites, but eventually, bellies grew full, and the more animated chatter resumed. 

Dakota spoke to our hosts. “The meal was delicious. Thank you so much for having me.”

Remembering what she’d shared with me at the soup kitchen about money being tight growing up and not having the luxury of a Thanksgiving dinner, I gave her knee a reassuring squeeze under the table. 

Natalie was as gracious as ever in her reply. “It’s our pleasure.” Her eyes skimmed those gathered, and a smile lit up her face. “It truly warms my heart to see this house filled with love and laughter.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Hannah cheered, raising her glass. 

Jaxon pulled Natalie close and kissed her temple. His unending love for her was a constant inspiration. Things with Dakota were new—undefined, even—but I hoped someday I would find a love like theirs. One built on mutual respect, selflessness, and a deep-seated need to see the other happy. 

Amy was seated across the table a few seats to our right, with Nate held over her shoulder as she gently patted his back. “Natalie tells us you’re a writer, Dakota.”

Dakota ducked her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Biting back a smile, Amy’s green eyes sparkled. “Ma’am is my mother-in-law.” 

That response brought a round of laughter from around the table. A quick peek at Dakota showed her cheeks turning bright pink. That had my grip tightening on her knee and my free fist clenching. I knew Amy was only teasing, but it twisted my gut seeing my girl embarrassed. 

“I didn’t quite catch your last name earlier,” Amy remarked. “I might not be the avid reader that Natalie is, but it’s quite an accomplishment to be published, and I’d love to read your work.”

I froze. I knew the type of books Dakota was writing, but I couldn’t imagine she would allow my closest friends and family to read them. Not when they’d just met. It wouldn’t matter that Natalie was practically the queen of romance reading; I could only imagine how awkward it would feel to have people you knew read sex scenes you wrote. I had to admit the brief passage I stumbled upon was eye-opening. Was that the kind of thing she was into?

To my utter surprise, Dakota didn’t hesitate in her response. “It’s Danielson.”

She placed her hand atop mine under the table and gave it a pat. 

Before I could figure out what that meant, Benji’s voice called from directly across the table. “Wait. Danielson?” 

My head snapped up. What was his deal?

Benji didn’t wait for an answer before he asked, “You’re not by chance related to Hank Danielson, edge rusher for the Hartford Hawks, are you?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at my linemate. “No.”

At the exact same time, Dakota’s soft voice said, “Yes.”

Stunned, I turned to her. Not that it mattered, but how had this never come up? She said when her mom passed, that had left her all alone, so how could she be admitting to having a very prominent sports figure as a dad? One who lived in this very city?

As I struggled to put the pieces together, Benji remained oblivious, gushing, “Oh man! Hank the Tank is a legend! Broke every record in the league for sacks. He’ll be in the Hall of Fame for sure! I was so lucky to make it here before he retired. Watching him play in person was unreal! The Hawks’ defense was on lock! Hasn’t been the same since.”

Before my very eyes, Dakota shrank into herself. Her shoulders slumped, eyes cast downward, and I could have sworn I heard the softest sniffle. 

It struck me like lightning. Dakota’s strong aversion to professional athletes. This whole time, I’d been convinced it was because of Levi, even though she’d protested, but it wasn’t. No, it was a lot closer to home. Her dad was the one who’d hurt her, hurt her mom—a mom she missed every day. Everything made so much sense. 

Ignorant to her distress, Benji pressed, “What in the world are you doing here with us? Shouldn’t you be spending the holiday with him? Or better yet, bring him next year!” 

Shoving her chair back suddenly, Dakota mumbled, “Excuse me,” before rushing off, a hand over her mouth doing nothing to muffle the sobs.

Silence descended over the table, and every head turned in the direction that Dakota had fled.

I recovered first, whipping around to yell at Benji. “What the hell?”

Eyes wide, he stared back at me. Liv elbowed him in the side when he didn’t respond immediately, which seemed to jolt him back to his senses. “What? I don’t even know what I did!” 

Seeing the woman I cared about upset, something inside me snapped, and I shoved my chair back, standing suddenly before slamming both hands down on the table. Dishes rattled, and Nate whimpered in Amy’s arms, but I didn’t care. 

Leaning forward threateningly, I snarled, “Don’t you have eyes? You couldn’t see how she shut down as you went on and on and on, hero-worshiping a man who has hurt her?”

Dakota might be new to the group, having met most of them today, but we all went to war for each other, no questions asked. Benji’s jaw tightened at the implication that her own father might have harmed her—something he’d experienced firsthand.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” I shot back, and Benji nodded his agreement.

Closing my eyes, I took a cleansing breath. It wouldn’t do well to chase after her still angry at both Benji and the man who’d hurt her in the past—a man who was supposed to protect and care for her. 

Regaining my composure, I caught the eye of Natalie’s former mother-in-law, seated on the other side of Dakota’s empty chair. Ashamed by my outburst, I apologized. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to ruin dinner.”

Kind brown eyes met mine, and a knowing smile curved her lips. “No trouble at all. We have been known to have the occasional outburst at family dinners. Isn’t that right, Lucy, dear?”

Lucy buried her face in her wine glass. “No comment.”

Addy reached out a hand, clasping mine. “We all have our burdens to carry. Makes a world of difference when you have someone to share the load.”

Nodding, I turned to Natalie. “Don’t hold dessert for us.”

Without another word, I took off in search of Dakota. I wasn’t sure if I could make this right, but I was sure as hell going to try. 

Soft sniffles and hiccups reached my ears, and I traced them to the game room in the basement. Stepping inside, my heart shattered into a thousand tiny shards, each flaying me open as I found Dakota slumped in a corner, face buried in her knees, shaking. 

It killed me to see her in pain. I would have given anything to take it on myself, but I knew it wasn’t that easy.

Approaching softly, I crouched in front of her. When I gently touched her leg, she flinched but peered up with red-rimmed eyes, the tears still flowing freely down her face. 

How had we gone from carefree, a moment away from our first kiss barely an hour ago, to this?

I said the only words I could think of. “You’re not alone.”

Dakota squeezed her eyes shut, but tears still leaked past the tightly sealed lids. “It’s my fault she’s dead,” she whispered. 

“What? No! Why would you think that?” I wanted so badly to pull her into my arms but knew she needed space while she battled with invisible demons. 

She nodded. “It’s true. If she never had me, then maybe she would have married a man who cared about her. She wouldn’t have put off routine preventive care because of not having insurance. Or ignored the pain instead of seeking out a doctor when she got sick because she was worried about how much it would cost. And maybe they would have caught the cancer early, and she could have beaten it.”

That was a lot to unpack, and I could tell she was spiraling. I needed her to slow down; maybe then, we could work through this rationally. 

Stroking her calf, I tried to soothe her, suggesting, “Let’s take a step back. None of us can control how we come into this world or the family we are born into. From what you’ve told me, your mom loved you with her whole heart. I can’t imagine she would wish for a life without you in it, even if it was cut short.”

Glassy blue eyes met mine. After shaky breath, she said, “I am my father’s greatest mistake.”

“Dakota—”

“No.” She shook her head. “He would probably admit that.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” I squeezed her leg gently to let her know I supported her, no matter the answer. 

“No point in hiding it anymore. You know who I really am now.”

Moving closer, I placed my back against the wall, allowing us to sit side by side. “You’re still the same Dakota who walked through the front door with me earlier today. I don’t care who your dad is. That doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

That earned a sharp intake of breath from the woman by my side.

“My dad, Hank, was a player. And I don’t just mean on the field. He had lots of girls lined up and bounced between them all. Honestly, it’s a wonder my mom never caught something from him. Or maybe she did. The studies say HPV is linked to cervical cancer, so it’s certainly possible he passed it to her from one of the other women he was sleeping with.”

Until today, she’d never mentioned how her mom had died. I wanted to comfort her but knew she needed to get this off her chest. She’d been holding it inside for too long already. 

Dakota continued, “My mom, Morgan, met Hank in college. She fell for him hard and fast, but the feeling was one-sided. Sound familiar?”

I groaned. She was watching in real-time as her best friend made the same mistakes as her mother. I couldn’t imagine how painful that was, reopening old wounds.

She sighed. “Now, I don’t know the exact circumstances as she never shared them, but somehow, Mom got pregnant with me. It’s probably better that I don’t know if she did it on purpose to secure the man she loved all for herself, because I can’t bear to be mad at the woman who was my whole world. It would only hurt more, knowing that in doing so, she signed her own death warrant.”

I couldn’t tell where this story was headed yet. Dakota had her father’s last name, but that didn’t mean her parents ever married. Had he abandoned her mom as soon as she revealed her pregnancy? Or was there more to this?

“He married her because it would ‘look bad’ if he didn’t, going into the draft. That, and down south, if you got a girl in trouble, you were staring down the barrel of a shotgun. He was selected by the Hawks, and I was born here in Hartford. He wasn’t around much. Our house was primarily a place for him to sleep most nights. Football kept him busy, but even in the offseason, he traveled to other states for training. Benji was right when he said he was one of the best—he was. So, it made sense that he had to train hard. We didn’t realize that most of it was a lie.”

“Oh God.” Dread churned in my gut.

“The whole time, he was living a double life. He had another woman, and they had three kids together. They were his real family, the one he chose to have, the one he chose to love. And eventually, he got tired of living a lie and came clean, serving my mom with divorce papers and never looking back.” A bitter laugh fell from her lips. “You know, I called him. Just once. To let him know Mom was gone. Do you know what he said to me? He told me he was sorry for my loss. And that was the end of it. Like the eleven years they’d spent married and sharing a child meant nothing.”

My heart broke for her. No child should feel unloved by a parent. 

“The worst part? Even after he left, Mom couldn’t let him go. She was adamant that he would come back to us. She closed herself off to the possibility of moving on for fear that she would be unavailable when he came to his senses.” She wiped at her runny nose with the back of her sleeve. “Being here today, I couldn’t help but put myself in the shoes of your brother’s children. They seem so happy, and I can see the love he has for them, for Natalie. What if there was a man out there for my mom, who might have claimed me as his own? But we never got the chance to find out because she was too hung up on a man who never loved her?”

Turning my body to face hers, I held her gaze so she’d know I was sincere. “He’s the one missing out. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, there would be a hole in my life if I never met you. And now that you’re right here in front of me? I never want to let you go.”

Her lips parted on a soft exhale. We’d been tiptoeing around me wanting her for months, but I was done hiding. I wanted her to know exactly how much I cared about her and needed her in my life. If it scared her and she ran, it wouldn’t matter. I would chase her to the ends of the earth. She was becoming as essential as air—I found breathing difficult when she wasn’t near.

Daring to reach out and touch her, I cupped her wet cheek. “I’m sorry he couldn’t see the treasure before him. But I can’t say I’m sorry you exist. I owe your mom a debt of gratitude for bringing you into this world so I could find you.”

Dakota’s black eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks before her eyes met mine. “I think she would have liked you.”

I gave her a small smile. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I can hear her in my head sometimes. Especially since you came along. She’s always going on about how I should give you a chance.”

Smirking, I mused, “Sounds like a smart lady.”

“Either that, or she’s still riding high on the athlete train. With the exception of a few linemen, they’re usually pretty ripped.” She bit her lip playfully.

My chest rumbled. “You been checking me out?”

Batting her eyelashes, she protested, “Me? No way. Does that strike you as something I would do?”

The mood sufficiently lightened, I threw in for good measure, “I know between your mom and Bristol, you’ve seen some guys use their celebrity status to treat the people you love like shit, but those guys upstairs? They would burn down the world for the women they love.”

“And you?” She peered at me, hope shining in her brilliant blue eyes as the unspoken question hung heavy in the air.

Stroking her cheek with my thumb, there was zero hesitation on my part. “Just hand me the match.”

Dakota closed the distance between us, and I was caught off guard when she placed her lips against mine. 

Am I dreaming? Is the girl I’ve been chasing for months, patiently working past her defenses, kissing me?

For a moment, I sat there, stunned, but as soon as Dakota’s tongue swiped against the seam of my lips, demanding entry, I was lost—lost in her, lost in us, lost to everything I’d been searching for and never thought I would find.

Our tongues battled for dominance. I already knew who would win, but it gave me a thrill allowing her to take control before I stole it back. 

Her soft mewls did me in, but nothing prepared me for her to shove at my chest and climb onto my lap, straddling me. She swallowed my groan, sinking her fingers into my hair and tilting my head so she could taste as deeply as she wanted.  

Reality crashed down hard when she rocked her core against my throbbing cock. I remembered where we were and how we’d gotten here. Breaking the kiss, our pants filled the heated air.

“Fuck, Firefly,” I breathed out, eyes still closed. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted a taste of your sweet mouth.”

“Then why are we stopping?” Dakota peppered kisses along the corner of my mouth, trying to tempt me into resuming our impromptu make-out session.

Tangling my hands into her curls, I eased her head back enough to look at her. And damn, what a sight it was. The girl occupying every available space in my brain was staring back at me with heavy-lidded lust-filled eyes, flushed cheeks, and kiss-swollen lips. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your vulnerability.” Fuck, I sounded like a pussy. But it was the right thing to do.

“You’re not. I kissed you, remember?” she teased, blue eyes glittering.

“I’ll never forget it,” I vowed and was rewarded by the pink gracing her cheeks spreading down her neck.

“I want more. Please,” she begged.

And I want everything.

I was taking a risk, I knew that, but what better time to shoot my shot?

“Be mine, Dakota,” I demanded more than asked.

“Yours?”

Gliding one hand down, I brought it to rest against the side of her neck. “I don’t want to be a regret you have in the morning.” She raised an eyebrow at the implication, and I laughed. “Not like that. I want more with you than just ‘hanging out.’ I want our time spent together to mean something, to hopefully lead somewhere. I want to hold you in public, to say you’re my girl. And maybe have you be proud to call me yours as well.”

This was it. I’d laid my cards on the table, and she knew exactly where I stood regarding my feelings. If she said no, I would keep working to win her trust, if not her heart. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, and it seemed even more challenging now that I knew the root cause of her distrust. But I was willing to put in the time and effort to show her I was the real deal, that I wasn’t going to use her and leave her. I wanted so much more. 

She opened her mouth, and I held my breath. “You’re sure you want me? When you can have your pick of any woman out there?”

It was time to go for broke. 

“You shared a story with me, so I think it’s only fair that I reciprocate.” She eyed me quizzically but didn’t protest. “I’m not sure if you know this, but I went last in my draft class.” Her eyes dipped, giving away she already held that knowledge, but I didn’t care how she’d learned it. “Honestly, while I sat there with the inevitability of falling short of living up to my brother’s larger-than-life legacy staring me in the face, I was relieved. I’d spent years crumbling under the pressure, and I thought I would gain my freedom—the chance to carve my own path and make a name for myself independent of Jaxon. But even that choice was stolen from me.”

Dakota nodded in understanding. “Because the Comets picked you.”

A wry laugh fell from my lips. “They did my brother a favor by trading their pick to ensure I didn’t go undrafted. Or so they thought. In reality, they handcuffed me. I would never escape his shadow. With the two of us on the same team, it would become glaringly obvious that I could never measure up. We’re side by side on the ice, for God’s sake.”

Her hand stroked up and down my shoulder. “Does he know how you feel?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Natalie does. Jaxon would never understand. He trains hard but is so naturally gifted. He is the measuring stick everyone else holds themselves up against. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be found lacking.”

“Maybe not,” she mused. “But I can’t imagine he’d want you to continue feeling this way. He wouldn’t want you to feel small so he could stand taller.”

“It’s hard not to feel small when your worth is tied to your performance on the ice. Right after I got drafted, my long-time girlfriend, the girl I thought I was going to marry—yeah, I know I was only eighteen and didn’t know shit about life—dumped me. Flat out told me that I was going nowhere because I was drafted last. She’d been using me for years, buying into the hype that I was headed down the exact same path as my brother.”

“Braxton. I’m sorry.” Dakota dropped her forehead to mine.  

“You know, it’s funny. The night we met, I thought you were so cool, standing up for yourself, pushing back. No one has ever done that to me before. Usually, they’re giggling, falling all over themselves to gain my attention, and touching me without permission. But you? You held your own, and I have to believe you would have been even harsher if you’d known exactly who I was.”

She huffed out a laugh, and her breath fanned my face. “You’re telling me you thought to yourself after that night, Yeah, I wanna take the hard road. I’m gonna fight the uphill battle with a girl who wants absolutely nothing to do with me?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I like a challenge. More than that, I like you. And not just because you’re the first girl to ever not care about what I do on the ice, but because you’re an incredible person in your own right. The more I get to know you, the more I realize I don’t want to spend time with anyone else.” 

Pausing, I took a deep breath. “So, I’ll ask again. Be mine, Dakota. Let me treat you the way you deserve while we continue learning everything there is to know about each other.”

“Exclusive?” That single word was said so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

I would have been insulted she even had to ask, but given what she’d shared about her mom and knowing what she’d witnessed with Bristol, I knew she needed to hear me say the words. 

Heart in my throat, I dared to glance up at her.  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” That was the God’s honest truth. 

Lip trembling, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes?” I needed to hear her say it again.

“Yes.”

Warmth spread through my chest at the smile on her face, and I couldn’t stop myself from gripping both sides of her face and pulling her back down for a kiss. Dakota laughed against my mouth, and my heart soared. 

Was she really mine? 

For the first time since coming to Connecticut, I felt pure, unfiltered joy. 

Maybe the Comets had done me a favor after all.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 16

Dakota

Braxton: Normally, I’d come to the door, but I’ve got precious cargo, and I’m not messing with this car seat until I absolutely have to. 

Smiling, I grabbed my coat and flung open the front door to find Braxton’s car parked along the street. Locking up behind me, I walked to the passenger side and peeked through the backseat window. 

Charlie was buckled in tight for our shared ice rink date. Braxton had made good on our promise to his niece that she could join us the next time we went out on the ice.  

My heart had melted on Thanksgiving for that man. First, when I saw him with his nieces and nephews—he was so fun-loving with them, especially the younger ones who demanded his attention. Then, there was the game of mini sticks in the basement. I should have known his competitive drive would match my own, though mine was usually reserved for internal competition. But when he’d found me in the basement after the disaster at dinner? He was so kind and patient, listening without judgment. I should have known he wouldn’t condone my father’s actions—given he wasn’t thrilled with Nix’s antics—but hearing the words from his mouth was needed. He took care to share his own story, opening my eyes to the fact that athletes were just as prone to being used in a relationship as their partners. Braxton saw my vulnerability and raised it with his own, baring insecurities he hadn’t shared with many others.

And that kiss? God, I could still feel it on my lips, even a week later. 

The team had gone on the road right after the holiday, so this was our first time seeing each other since that night. Excitement fluttered in my belly as I pulled open the passenger door and slid inside. 

The sun had already set on this December day, so Braxton was only illuminated by the interior car lighting, but he was as breathtakingly handsome as ever. And now, he was mine. I still couldn’t believe it—not only that he’d asked, but that I’d said yes. 

Even in the dim light, his eyes sparkled when he watched me slip into the car. Reaching over, he grasped my hand, kissing my knuckles softly. My skin tingled where his lips made contact, and I bit my lower lip, fighting hard against the blush rising to my cheeks.

“I missed you.” The smile on his face told me the words were genuine. 

Before I could respond, telling him I returned the sentiment, an excited cry came from the backseat, “Da-pota! Hi!”

Turning in my seat to view the little girl behind us, I gave her a wave and a smile. “Hey, Charlie. Are you ready to go skating?”

“Yes!” she screamed, her voice echoing in the tiny confines of the car. 

Braxton put the car in drive and pulled out onto the street. I couldn’t help but stare at him in awe. It spoke to the kind of man he was, willing to have a toddler tag along on our first date as an official couple. He loved his family, including his older brother, even if it was painful to walk in his shadow. 

Arriving at the rink, I watched, biting back a smile as he struggled to release Charlie from the car seat restraints. He hadn’t been joking when he said he didn’t want to mess with it. I had a feeling it would be a team effort to get her strapped in for the car ride home. I was as inexperienced as he seemed, but two heads were better than one.

I held Charlie’s hand while walking through the parking lot. Braxton had his hands full with a bag of gear. The second we passed through the sliding glass doors, Charlie bolted, trying to run from me, but I was quick enough to grab her around the waist and haul her into my arms. 

“Hey!” she protested. “I wanna skate!”

Braxton chuckled. “And how do you think you’re going to do that without skates on your feet?”

Frowning, Charlie peered down at her sneakers. “Oh.”

He tilted his head toward a bench near the glass overlooking the ice. “Let’s head over there, and then I’ll get my two best girls all laced up.” He threw me a wink, and my cheeks flamed. 

Would I ever get used to the flirtation? Would the excitement fade with time? Would we fall into a comfortable rhythm at some point and lose all semblance of romance?

Whoa. Slow down. It’s your first date, and you’re worried about keeping the spark alive?

Right. Couldn’t get ahead of myself. Who knew where we’d be a few months from now, let alone a year or more? It was best to enjoy what we had and not take a single second of how he made me feel for granted. 

Braxton did my skates first, then Charlie’s. I watched in amazement as his fingers flew nimbly over the laces with practiced ease. It only made sense, considering he’d spent years on the ice, lacing up daily, but I was still transfixed. 

Wonder what else he can do with those fingers?

Jesus, Dakota. There’s a child present. Down, girl.

Peering up at me, Braxton raised an eyebrow. “You okay? You’re breathing funny.”

“Fine.” I stood, getting more stable walking in skates with each session. 

Buckling a helmet onto Charlie’s head, we walked together through the glass doors to be met with the chilly air of the rink. My dirty mind had me overheated, so the temperature change was a welcome relief. 

Unlatching the heavy door to the ice surface, we formed a chain, Braxton gliding out first, a hand on one of Charlie’s in the middle while I held her other hand from the rear. The second Charlie’s skates touched the ice, she squealed in excitement. Her pure joy was infectious, and I found myself laughing in response. 

Braxton caught my eye, smirking, before glancing down at the toddler between us. “Shall we, ladies?”

After the first few strides, Charlie wrenched her hands away, declaring forcefully, “I can do it!”

Instinct demanded I regain my hold—she was only three, and I was barely stable out here at twenty-one—but Braxton shook his head slightly, indicating I should let her go. 

Braxton glided backward to give his niece space, and I followed his lead. I held my breath as she took those first wobbly steps, practically stomping on the ice. 

She’s safe. She has a helmet. Braxton knows what he’s doing.

Charlie made it all of three feet before she crashed to the ice. I rushed forward to help her up, expecting her cries to echo throughout the space, but Braxton held a hand up, halting me. 

Panicked, I watched as she got on all fours, then pushed off the ice with her hands, regaining a standing position before taking off on her stomping trek again. The breath flew from my lungs as I stood there, stunned. 

Sliding an arm around my waist, Braxton whispered in my ear, “Kids are resilient. None more than that one. When she sets her mind to something, she will stop at nothing to get her way.”

Leaning into his hold, I mused, “Hmm. Wonder if that’s an inherited trait—Slate stubbornness.”

I could hear the smile in his voice as his lips grazed my ear. “Try tenacity, sweetheart.”  

A shiver rolled down my spine. Maybe Bristol was right, and I’d met my match. His way with words spoke to me. And I had a feeling he knew exactly what it did to me, as evidenced by the way his grip on my waist tightened. 

Could he really be the perfect guy for me? My heart was ready to take the leap, but my brain warned that he seemed almost too good to be true. There had to be a flaw hidden somewhere, right?

Braxton rolled to a stop outside my house. We’d had such a fun evening with Charlie, snagging pizza at the snack bar after we finished skating, and now her soft snores filtered from where she was securely strapped into her car seat in the back. 

As far as first dates went, I didn’t mind sharing. Braxton was an attentive uncle, and it only highlighted how good he was with kids. 

Peeking back at his niece with a smile, he sighed. “I’d love nothing more than to walk you to the door and give you a goodnight kiss, but I can’t leave her alone in the car.”

Unclipping my seatbelt, I turned in my seat, leaning across the center console and capturing his lips in a quick kiss that had my skin buzzing with electricity. Before I could slink back to my side of the car, Braxton gripped the back of my neck, hauling me closer and slanting his mouth over mine. 

He parted my lips with his tongue, and I whimpered, sinking deeper into the kiss. I admit I didn’t have much experience, but Braxton knew what he was doing, so I let him take the lead as he teased and tasted. Emboldened, I nipped the corner of his lower lip, and that simple action elicited a groan from deep within his chest that had the pulse between my legs beating in time with my heart. 

After a few softer brushes against my lips, Braxton released his hold, allowing me to slump back against the headrest of my seat. Our heavy breathing had fogged the windshield, and I bit back a smile. 

Braxton shifted in his seat, and I thought I caught the tiniest hint of a bulge in his jeans before the shadows hid that area from my view. 

I had been a self-proclaimed bookworm most of my life, so guys didn’t often approach me. I never had a problem with the lack of attention, preferring to lose myself in a fictional world rather than face the realities of the harsh one I lived in. But now that I knew what I’d been missing out on? What it felt like to be desired, to have that rush of attraction toward another human being? I should have looked up once in a while. 

Eyes flashing gold from the streetlamps casting light off the hood of the car, Braxton stared at me with such intensity—as if I were the only thing he cared about. That kiss had warmed my blood, but the look on his face now warmed my heart. 

“That was better than an awkward kiss on the front porch. No risk of nosy neighbors getting a good peek.” Braxton’s gravelly voice went straight to my core, the throbbing there intensifying. 

“No, just a sleeping audience of one in the backseat,” I teased. 

We both turned to check on Charlie, who was still out for the count. 

“We wore her out.” A smile crept onto my face.

“Yeah,” Braxton agreed. “But she had the time of her life.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful little girl, her face relaxed in sleep, rosebud lips parted as deep breaths eased past them. “She looks like an angel.” 

“It’s hard to believe Beau was this little when Jaxon stepped in as his dad. But easy to see how he stole his heart.”

My chest tightened, knowing my own father had walked away. How could you look at your child, this innocent being that you created, and not love them with your whole heart? Charlie was working her way into mine, and she was merely Braxton’s niece.

Needing to shake the dark thoughts threatening to ruin this perfect evening, I mused, “I think she looks a little bit like you.”

“You mean, she looks like Jaxon.” I could hear the edge to his voice.

Tearing my eyes away from the sleeping toddler, I shot him a look that said, You know you look exactly like your brother, to which he rolled his eyes.

“So, what you’re saying is . . .” He gestured to his face. “This is a good look on a girl?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Fishing for compliments?”

That broke the blanket of tension over him, and a hand flew up to his chest. “Never.”

Another peek back at Charlie, and the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Do you think you might ever want kids?” 

My eyes widened, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God. Forget I said that.” That’s not something you asked a guy on the first date. Clearly, my brain was misfiring with the cuteness level radiating from the backseat.

Scanning my face, Braxton reached out a hand to pry mine away gently. “Remember this, Dakota. I am interested in everything that comes out of your mouth.”

Groaning, I closed my eyes, wanting to erase the last few minutes of my life. 

“But to answer your question, I used to think about having a family.” His voice was soft, with a hint of sadness in his tone. 

Forcing my eyes open, I questioned, “Used to?”

Braxton’s chest expanded with the force of the deep breath he held before releasing it. “I was a dumb kid, caught up in first love—or at least, what I thought was love. Lacey and I had it all planned out. We would have two: a boy and a girl. Even picked out their names—Bentley and Lainey. B on the boy for me and L on the girl for her. So stupid.”

Squeezing the hand that was still holding mine, I whispered, “Not any more stupid than writing love stories and crafting happy endings for fictional characters to move past your mom never getting hers.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s probably for the best it didn’t work out with her. She would have left the first time there was a threat to my playing career. Injuries are a part of the game, some more serious than others. If I suffered one that took me out of action for a while or maybe even permanently, I have no doubt she would have cut and run. What if we had kids at that point? Would have ruined my life.” His thumb stroked over my knuckles. “And if I’d stayed with Lacey, that would have meant never meeting you.”

The breath caught in my lungs, and I dropped my gaze. But Braxton wasn’t having it. His free hand gripped my chin, tilting my head up so I was forced to meet his eye. There was nowhere to hide from this man.

“Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind,” he commanded.

I chewed on my lower lip for a minute before answering honestly. “I understand how past trauma can affect the choices you make for the future better than anyone. I closed myself off and lost myself in books. I figured a fictional man would never let me down. At least not one in a romance novel. They always get the girl, no matter what conflict arises that threatens to tear them apart.”

“And now?” His eyes stared into my soul, and I knew I couldn’t hold back the truth.

“Now I want what they have. A man who will fight for me, a man who would throw himself in the line of fire to protect me, a man whose love for me will consume him.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Not even sure that exists in real life.”

Braxton swallowed, his long throat muscles working, drawing my attention. His voice was raw and deep when he finally spoke. “Firefly, I am that man.”

A gasp tore up my throat, and for the first time in my life, words escaped me. It wasn’t only the nickname that stole my breath—God, I wished he’d bring it out more—but his declaration that he was the type of man I’d built up in my mind, going so far as to immortalize in print, and he wanted me. Me.

It was so overwhelming that I didn’t know how to respond.

Sliding the hand gripping my chin along my jaw, he cupped my cheek, stroking softly with the pad of a calloused thumb. My heart threatened to stop beating at the tenderness in his eyes.

And then he spoke.

“I wasn’t sure I would ever find a girl who could see past all the noise surrounding my life, my identity. I was so close to giving up hope that there was someone out there for me. One that would take me at face value and nothing more.” He chuckled, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Then I met you. And you blew me away with a few simple words. Which I now realize are your weapon of choice, but I came prepared to fight.” His free hand joined its partner on my face. “I haven’t wanted to fight for anything in so long. You sparked something inside of me that I thought was lost forever—hope. Hope that I can make a life with someone. Hope that I might have a family someday. Hope that I can finally be myself.”

“Oh, Braxton.” My heart was lost. He owned it now, and I had a feeling I’d never get it back.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been seen as my own person? Someone more than ‘Jaxon’s brother’?” He paused for a moment, thoughtful. “You know, I’m not sure I ever have.”

“I see you.” The words were simple and few, but I watched Braxton’s face transform. That hope he’d spoken of sparkled in the whiskey depths of his eyes.

“I see us,” he countered. “I see us finding a little place here in Hartford. It won’t be big, not to start, but it’ll be ours. I see us maybe getting a dog so you won’t be lonely while I’m on the road. I see us staying up all night talking. Getting to know each other so well that we know what the other is going to say before they speak. And yes, I do see us having kids someday. I pray to God that doesn’t scare you off, but I want to be honest about my vision for our future. I don’t care if we have one or ten, so long as they are made from the love we share. A love I’m already beginning to feel for you, Dakota.”

How did I get here? 

One night, I went to a house party at a hockey playboy’s home, and somehow landed in this car with a kind and caring man, staring at me like I was his salvation while having no clue that he was mine.

And he wasn’t done.

“I thought my brother was crazy when he believed Natalie was his fate. He sat on the sidelines for years, waiting for her. Believing deep down they were meant to be together. Now that I’ve watched their relationship blossom, the love they share? He was right. They’re a perfect match. Without her, he would have never become the man he is by her side. And the same goes for Natalie. He brought her back to life when she was barely hanging on, trying to survive. So, how can I not believe you were thrown into my path that night for a reason? That you are the one person placed on this Earth I was meant to find?” 

Mom, I know you’re up there watching. And if you sent him, thank you.

Braxton’s thumbs spread wetness across my cheeks, and only then did I realize I was crying. 

“Was it too much?” His eyes searched mine.

Squeezing my eyes shut, more tears leaked out, but I shook my head. “No. It was everything and more.”

I felt his forehead touch mine. “I’m never letting you go. Never.”

A watery laugh flew past my lips, my voice thick as I whispered, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Rustling from the backseat broke our trance as a tired voice whined, “I’m sleepy, Uncle Basston.”

I could hear the smile in his voice before my eyes opened. “Sorry, Charlie girl. Just wanted to say goodnight to Dakota before I took you home. We’ll go now.”

“Night, Da-pota,” she said groggily. “Now, we go home.”

She was seriously the cutest thing, and I tried to muffle my laughter as I peeked back to find her eyes had drooped closed again, whispering, “Night, Charlie.”

Braxton brushed a soft kiss on my lips. “It was a very good night. Thanks for letting her tag along.”

“Anytime.”

His amber eyes darkened, and he shook his head. “No, next time, I want you all to myself.”

It was dark inside the car, but when his eyes roved my face, I knew he could see me blushing at what “being alone” would entail. 

Clutching blindly for the door handle, I finally managed to pull it and swung the door open. Stepping out on unsteady legs, I poked my head back inside the car. “Goodnight, Braxton.”

“Night, Firefly.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 17

Dakota

Biting my lip, I typed out a text, knowing the response it would elicit. 

Wait. So, they can remove a goal from the scoreboard if someone was offside a full minute before they scored? How is that fair? The ref didn’t catch it and let them continue playing. They only looked to see if they missed that call after they scored. And then they put the time back on the clock!

Smirking, I watched the three dots appear on my screen, indicating that Braxton was gearing up to reply.

Braxton: Are you watching hockey without me?

Does that sound like something I would do? My boyfriend has made it very clear that I should wait until he’s with me to watch live-speed action on the ice. And I’m nothing if not a good girl. *Bites lower lip*

I was egging him on, and he knew it too.

Braxton: Usually, I’d be inclined to believe my very well-behaved girlfriend, but it just so happens that a situation sounding very much like the one you described happened no less than five minutes ago in the Indy Speed game versus the Las Vegas Luck. Now, I’ll ask again. Have you been naughty watching hockey without me?

After the weeks he’d spent teasing me, turnabout was fair play.

And what about penalties? Why doesn’t it go to four-on-four when both teams incur a penalty at the same time? That makes the most sense, but for some reason, they stay at five-on-five.

Braxton: Dakota . . . 

And then there’s the five-on-three. What happens if the team with three guys gets another penalty? Does it go to five-on-two? Is there ever a point where one team can’t have any skaters on the ice, and five guys just shoot on the goalie?

Braxton: Firefly, you’re playing a very dangerous game.

I would have to agree. Hockey does appear to be extremely dangerous. Why would anyone want to play such a violent sport?

Giggling, I could picture Braxton at home, watching the game, getting riled up as I made it clear that I was watching hockey and doing everything in my power to avoid answering his question directly.

Braxton: I’m going to give you to the count of three to come clean.

And then what happens? *Eyes emoji*

Braxton: Then I’ll be forced to come over there at this late hour and punish you.

I was hoping he’d say that. Yesterday, I’d gone to my first pre-paid waxing appointment that Hannah had set up for me, and today, I spent hours with the sound of grunts and groans in my ears as I typed out close to six thousand words. I’d been on edge and in desperate need of release. I could have taken care of it myself, but why should I when I had a boyfriend on the other side of town, who’d made it no secret that he was looking forward to more physical activities with me?

But I’m only trying to learn. *Pouty face*

Braxton: One . . .

*Shrugging woman emoji*

Braxton: Two . . . This is not an empty threat.

*Smirk emoji*

Braxton: Final warning. No taking it back once I reach the final count.

*Smiling devil emoji*

Braxton: Three. Now you’ve done it.

*Angel face emoji* But I didn’t do anything. 

Braxton: *Growls* Just for that, when I get there, we ARE going to spend all night watching hockey. 

That’s what he thought. But who was I to tell him otherwise?

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at my front door. I could only imagine he’d broken every speed limit in town to get to me—usually, it took twenty-five minutes door to door.

Ruffling my curls, I took a moment to peek at myself in the hallway mirror before answering the door. 

Showtime.

Turning the deadbolt slowly so Braxton could hear it, I called out through the thick wood, “Who is it?”

There was a rumble from the other side. “The time for games is over, Dakota.”

Biting back a smile, my voice took on a sickeningly sweet quality. “But I thought you came over here because you wanted to watch a game?”

I was poking the bear but pressed my thighs together in anticipation of what would happen when he lost the grip on his control. He wasn’t there yet, but he would be soon if I had anything to say about it. 

Braxton’s words were clipped. “Open. The. Door. Now.”

“So bossy,” I teased, throwing the door wide open.

The sight that met me did nothing to cool the arousal simmering beneath my skin. Braxton looked dark and dangerous cast in the glow of the porch light, a wolfish glint to his eyes. 

Gripping both sides of the doorframe, he leaned in, his mouth a breath away from mine. “You’ve been playing a little too close to the fire, sweetheart. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get burned.”

God, yes.

How many years had I watched as others enjoyed sex? Whether it was Bristol, the people performing on my computer screen, or even the characters I wrote?

It was finally my turn.

Not that I was ready to jump in with both feet, but if I knew Braxton like I thought I did, he wouldn’t pressure me. We could have a little fun and both feel good. That was my aim tonight. 

“I’m sorry?” I phrased the apology like a question on purpose and batted my eyelashes at Braxton looming above me.

“Funny thing is, I don’t think you are.”

Pulling back slightly, I pursed my lips into a pout. “So sorry.”

Rolling his eyes with a smile on his face, the space I put between us allowed him to scan down the length of my body, and a groan sounded from deep within his chest. “Goddamn, Firefly. What in the world are you wearing?”

Shrugging, I stepped back for full effect. The only thing I wore was the oversized Comets hoodie he’d bought me the first time we went to the rink. It hit me mid-thigh, so my bare legs and feet were visible. 

“Wasn’t expecting company.” I shrugged. 

Taking a few more backward steps, I turned so he could get a good look at his last name and number splayed across my back. From what I understood, that was how players claimed their women. Judging from the curse Braxton uttered under his breath while clutching the doorframe so hard his knuckles turned white, I’d say I hit the mark.

Peeking over my shoulder, I called back, “You’re letting in a draft.”

That jolted him from his perch on the doorstep, and he stumbled inside the house, closing the door in a daze. His eyes flared as they watched me recline on the couch, stretching my bare legs over the cushions. 

Dragging a hand across the dark stubble along his jaw, Braxton blinked a few times, likely wondering if this was real. 

Toeing the cushion opposite my seat, I gave him a sultry—or at least, I hoped it was—smile. “You coming?”

A strategic choice of words given my lack of clothing, and it did the trick. Eating up the space between us in three long strides, his hands found my face, his mouth descending on mine, saying everything he was feeling without words. I moaned as his tongue demanded entry, opening for him and allowing him to dominate the desperate kiss. 

My pulse pounded between my legs, but I wasn’t done teasing him yet. What was it they said about anticipation? That it only heightened the pleasure? I was about to test that theory tonight, and my results would be skewed if I gave in too quickly.

Taking both hands, I shoved at Braxton’s chest, and like the gentleman he was, he pulled back enough that our ragged breathing mingled, the sound filling the air. 

“You said we were gonna watch the game.” My voice was breathy. 

“Fuck the game,” he growled back. 

“My house, my rules.” I shoved at his chest again, harder this time, and he drew back. Tapping my toe for emphasis, I said, “Your seat is over there.”

Raking a hand through his dark tresses, he took the offered seat. 

I began pulling my legs back to my side, but he snaked out a hand, circling my ankle and dragging me into a reclined position, my feet in his lap. I raised an eyebrow in question, to which his response was to dig his thumb into the arch of my foot. He hit the pressure point just right, and a moan escaped before I could stop it, my back arching. 

His eyes remained locked on my feet, but I caught the way a corner of his lips quirked up. “Watch your game. Since it’s so important to you.”

Oh, he’s good.

I might have started this little game, but I should’ve known he was a competitor and wouldn’t surrender so easily. 

Giving myself over to the ministrations of his magic fingers, I relaxed into the couch, nearly boneless by the time the second intermission rolled around on the screen. I had played by the rules, watching the game, but with a break in the action, it was time to make my move. 

Skin still tingling from his touch, I ran the curved sole of my foot along the bulge beneath it, barely concealed in his gray sweatpants. I could feel the heat of him through the thick material.

Braxton’s hiss reached my ears, and he gripped my foot, halting its movement. “Careful, Firefly.”

Wrenching my foot from his grasp—carefully; we didn’t need an accidental kick to the groin—I climbed onto his lap. The hoodie rode up my thighs as I straddled him, and his searing hot palms rested just below the hem. The rough pads of his fingertips teased the skin of my inner thighs, and instinctively, my hips rocked, seeking any sort of friction. This might be new to me, but it would seem my body knew what to do. This was, after all, a dance humans had been doing since the beginning of time. 

Having a good eight inches on me, being seated on Braxton’s lap had us at eye level. And damn, if he didn’t have the most beautiful eyes. They sparkled gold as he peered back at me, the pupils expanding as rapidly as the hard length growing between my spread thighs.

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, stifling a moan when his erection nudged against my aching clit. Instant regret hit me that I had declined to take the edge off earlier when I was alone. But I’d figured getting myself off to the image of this gorgeous man couldn’t compare to the real thing. It didn’t matter that I was probably right, because I needed relief. Now. 

Anchoring my hands on his shoulders, I rocked over Braxton’s lap, causing him to throw back his head, eyes closed, as a guttural groan slipped past his parted lips. I was testing the limits of his restraint, but I was more than ready to unleash the animal lurking beneath the surface. 

Forcing himself to look at me, he reached a hand up, his thumb tugging on the lip I held so firmly between my teeth that I began to taste blood. He didn’t use words, pleading with me with his eyes to relinquish my hold. Slowly, I released that lower lip, wincing at the sting, but Braxton was quick to soothe the hurt with soft strokes of his thumb. 

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was husky, and it shot a bolt of lust straight to my throbbing core. 

My mind raced, trying to form a coherent thought through the haze. 

Only one word made sense at that moment. “You.”

Braxton smirked. “You already have me.”

He was teasing me, but I wasn’t in the mood, too desperate to feel his hands on my body, bringing me a type of pleasure I’d only ever known on my own. I had a feeling it wouldn’t compare, but there was only one way to find out. 

Out of words and done with games, I reached down, gripped the hem of the sweatshirt, and pulled it over my head. By the time the fabric cleared my field of vision, Braxton’s eyes were molten gold, scanning my form with a hunger that made me shiver. 

That was the moment he realized I wasn’t wearing anything beneath the hoodie.

Braxton’s hand, still resting on my thigh, tightened, and its partner dragged down his face as he stared at me in disbelief. 

“Is this clear enough?” I breathed out, chest heaving as I tried desperately to control my heart rate. This was the first time a man had ever seen me naked. 

“Jesus Christ.” The words from his mouth were so reverent that they could have been mistaken for a prayer. 

A trail of fire followed Braxton’s hand on its ascent over my hip to the curve of my waist before cupping one of my breasts. When his thumb brushed my nipple, I gasped, the sensation overwhelming. I’d watched women on screen play tug furiously on their nipples while amid sexual acts, but I hadn’t understood it until this moment. It shot a jolt of electricity between my thighs. 

Arching into his touch, I silently begged for more. Expecting a second hand to join the first, I groaned when the wet heat of his mouth descended on my free nipple. The rocking of my hips grew insistent, the friction driving me insane as he teased the distended peak with his teeth. 

I needed more. More of what, I had no idea, but I would take whatever Braxton wanted to give me. 

Spearing my fingers through his hair, I hung on for dear life. I was teetering right on the edge, ready to combust. Braxton switched sides, giving the opposite breast the attention of his mouth. With his hands free, he gripped my hips and ground me down on his cock straining against the only fabric separating us.

When I whimpered, I could feel his smile against my skin. “Is this what you want? You want to make yourself come by rubbing your hot little pussy over my cock?”

My eyes slammed shut at the mental imagery. This physically powerful man would willingly let me take my pleasure from his body? I was overwhelmed at the mere thought. 

“How about I tell you what I want?” he rasped, and I forced myself to look at him.

“Please,” I begged, lost to the lust swirling in the air. 

In a flash, Braxton stood with me still in his arms. Ignoring my squeals of protest, he spun us around and lowered my body to the couch, kneeling between my open thighs.

When his gaze dropped to that exposed, bare part of me, his sharp intake of breath reached my ears. “Holy shit, Dakota.”

Point for Hannah.

Peeking down myself, I asked, “You like?”

“Like?” he huffed. “I’ve never seen a more perfect pussy in my entire life.”

I squirmed as he lowered his face. The concentrated attention made me slightly uncomfortable. But then his warm breath skittered over the heated flesh slick with arousal, and all traces of self-consciousness vanished. 

“Is this what you had in mind when you texted me tonight? You wanted me on my knees for you?”

Moaning, on sensory overload with his mouth so close to my pussy that I could feel the vibrations of his words, I closed my eyes.

Hands on my inner thighs, forcing them open wider, had my head snapping to meet his gaze. 

A wolfish grin curved on his lips. “Do I have your attention now?”

My lips parted as pants flew past, punctuating the air.

“Use your words, Dakota. I know you have them.”

Whining, I shook my head. I was past the point of talking. My brain was mush, focused on one thing and one thing only—the orgasm looming just out of reach that I needed more desperately than I needed air.

Braxton clicked his tongue. “Oh, baby. Do you need some help?”

Dazed, I nodded, words still escaping me. 

“Do you want me to love on you with my mouth . . . here?” He placed a tender kiss to my inner thigh before peeking up to gauge my reaction. I shook my head. “How about . . . here?” He moved further down my leg, brushing his lips against the back of my knee, causing me to whine in frustration. Smirking, his eyes darkened as his head moved to the apex of my thighs, so close my hips rose, trying to make contact. “What about . . . here?” He placed a barely there kiss against my clit, and my hips bucked off the couch. “Is that where you want me?”

“No.” The word was uttered so softly that I wondered if I’d even said it aloud.

Judging by how Braxton froze, lifting his head, I was betting that I did.

“No?” He arched an eyebrow, beginning to put space between us.

Willing my brain to convey the message properly instead of a garbled, lust-drunk mess of words, I took a deep breath. “I don’t want you there. I need you there.”

A rush of air flew past Braxton’s plush lips. His relief that I wasn’t pushing him away was palpable. He would have stopped, of that I had no doubt, but he didn’t want to. Good thing for both of us, we were on the same page tonight. 

His eyes dropped between my parted thighs, and he inhaled deeply. “I can see how much you need me, Firefly. You’re fucking drenched, soaking the couch.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. My first instinct was to grab a towel, but before I could make a move, Braxton’s tongue swiped a path through my slit, and all rational thought fled. 

A strangled noise pierced the air as Braxton gripped my inner thighs almost to the point of pain and began his oral assault. 

Was that me?

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t focus on anything past the feeling of Braxton between my legs, his tongue growing more insistent with each passing minute as waves of pleasure radiated outward, flowing over my body and threatening to drag me under. Nothing I’d ever done solo came close to this. 

Braxton eased off, slowing the strokes of his tongue, causing me to slip both hands through his short hair, pulling him closer, silently begging for more. 

He let out a shaky chuckle. “Sorry, baby. You taste so fucking delicious. I don’t want this to end.”

Well, that broke the spell I was under, and an unladylike snort flew out of my nose. 

Peeking up with curious eyes, Braxton asked, “Did I miss something?”

I waved a weak hand in his general direction. “It’s fine. You don’t need to write poetry about going down on me.”

Tilting his head, understanding flashed in those whiskey depths, staring so intently that I began to squirm. “Wait. You think I’m lying to you about how addictive your pussy tastes?”

Throwing both hands over my face, I groaned. “Please don’t.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” His words sliced through the haze of embarrassment. 

“Look. I’ve been on enough threads online to know most guys see it as a means to an end. Go down on her so she’ll repay the favor—and for the record, I will. But they don’t particularly enjoy it.” I could only hope that finally got through to him and we could drop this topic.

“En-enjoy?” Braxton’s words were said on a disbelieving exhale.

I’d done it now, fucked this up so badly that he’d walk out that door and never come back. After this humiliating encounter, I would likely remain a virgin forever. 

There was a rustle of fabric, and I resigned myself to the inevitability that our night—our sexy playtime—was over. Regret flooded my body. Why couldn’t I keep my damn mouth shut for once?

Forcing my eyes open to face the man I’d pushed away, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I found his face inches from mine. 

Letting out a shriek, I shoved at his chest. “What the hell, Braxton?! You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Voice low and dangerous, he said, “Let’s get one thing straight here, Dakota. If this is going to work between us, I need your total honesty. And you can damn well expect the same from me. No games, no hidden agendas. If we say something, we mean it. Understand?”

Wide-eyed, I could only manage a nod. “Uh-huh.”

“So, when I say the taste of your pussy is going to haunt my dreams tonight, and I’ll likely wake up hard tomorrow morning thinking about it, I mean it.” 

I swallowed. He was so close I could smell myself on his face. My eyes dipped to his chin, still glistening with my arousal. With his gaze tracking mine, his lips curved into a lopsided grin. 

“If my words can’t reach you, I’ll just have to show you.”

Before I could question his meaning, his lips claimed mine in a punishing kiss. Tongue sweeping inside, he tangled it with mine, letting my unique flavor coat my tastebuds. Surprised, my eyes opened. He was right; it was different, but it wasn’t bad. 

Sensing he’d made his point, Braxton pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. “I go down on you because I enjoy it.” His hand grasped mine, bringing it to the hard length tenting his sweatpants and positioning my fingers to grab it. “The smell, the taste, your reactions. All of it gets me hard. Never will I expect a blowjob because I devoured your pussy. Relationships—the sexual side of them in particular—are not transactional. At least, they shouldn’t be.”

To show my understanding, I gave a firm stroke of his cock. His hips jutted forward, thrusting it into my hand. Releasing my hold, I grazed the waistband of his sweats, but Braxton pulled back. 

When I looked at him in question, he shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m going to prove to you that giving you pleasure will always be enough to satisfy me.”

I whined, arching my back so my breasts rubbed against the rough fabric of his T-shirt. “Please. Let me touch you.”

Dipping his head to pepper kisses along my neck, he murmured, “You doubted me, sweetheart. Now, you’ll have to wait ‘til next time.”

He was serious? He would walk away tonight without taking anything for himself? 

With each passing day, Braxton bucked the stereotypes—this time of the womanizing, self-centered, sex-crazed athlete.

And he’d made it no secret that he was all mine. 

Lips trailed down my torso, and Braxton resumed his position between my thighs. 

“Eyes on me,” he commanded when my body writhed, head thrown back in anticipation. 

Blazing heat rolled over my skin when I met his hungry whiskey gaze. Lowering his face, his eyes never left mine as he darted out his tongue, giving quick little flicks to my needy clit. My mouth dropped open, the sensations heightened by the intense eye contact as he performed this intimate act.

A finger probed at my entrance, and all my muscles tensed in unison. Braxton must have felt it because he backed off, not stopping the strokes of his tongue, even as a question entered those beautiful eyes locked on mine. 

The truth was, I’d tried “losing” my virginity myself—more than once. But no matter how hard I tried, as soon as a toy barely breached the barrier, it hurt, and I couldn’t force myself to push past the resistance. I’d promised myself it would be different when the time came for a flesh-and-blood man to claim my body. I wouldn’t be in control of the force of penetration, and while I was sure it wouldn’t be pleasant, I would let it happen. Or so I hoped. 

Judging from my reaction to Braxton trying to finger me, I wasn’t sure my body agreed. 

There wasn’t much time to ponder that eventuality as Braxton closed his lips around my clit and sucked. The change in pressure and sensation sent me soaring. My back bowed, every muscle locking before pure pleasure shot through my veins. Hearing fuzzy, I was deaf to my cries of passion as my hips bucked, trying to draw out every ounce of hands-down the most intense orgasm I’d experienced to date. 

Sated, I laid back limp on the couch as Braxton crawled up my body, cradling my sweaty form to his chest, whispering soothing words in my ear. 

He was incredible, and for a fleeting moment, I thought perhaps the universe was making up for the shitty start I’d had in this life. Maybe the worst had passed, and it was time to be happy. Lord knows I was due.

And Braxton? He seemed to need a lifeline as much as I did—a person to cling to as the storm raged around us. 

There would always be noise surrounding his career and family name. But in these moments? No one else existed. 

If we could shut out the rest of the world in our relationship, we might just have a chance.

Stroking the sweaty tendrils of hair plastered to my face, Braxton’s warm voice spoke in my ear. “Come to my game Friday night.”

Lifting my heavy head, a lazy smile crept onto my lips. “I don’t know. My boyfriend gets upset when I watch hockey without him.”

He pinched my ass, and I jolted in his arms. “Never lose that spark, Firefly.” He kissed my temple. “I mean it. Please come.”

An undertone of desperation in his voice made it sound like he needed me there. But he knew attending a game in person was a big step for me. I hadn’t entered a professional sports arena since my dad left; there were too many tainted memories.

Then it struck me. He wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. There was something more at play, but he wasn’t ready to share, and I respected that. I owed him the same blind support and compassion he’d always shown me.

Keeping the conversation light, even though I knew the request was anything but, I teased, “You got a hookup for decent seats?”

His deep chuckle warmed my chest. “They’re okay. Might be able to swing a pass with club-level access.”

“Sounds fancy.” I trailed a hand over his arm, reveling in the muscles I encountered.

“My girl deserves a spot in the family box.”

I stopped breathing. It was all fun and games until past trauma came out to play.

Sensing my reluctance, Braxton pulled back enough to look me in the eye. He must have seen the panic written on my face because his gaze softened in regret as air rushed past his lips. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I can get you regular seats. Wherever you want. I’ll make it happen.”

Squeezing his bicep, I took a deep breath. “No, it’s okay.” A bitter laugh flew past my lips. “Never been in a family box before. Might as well see what the fuss is all about.”

Braxton squeezed his eyes shut, whispering, “If this is too much, you don’t have to come. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Reaching up, I cupped his scratchy cheeks. “Do you need me there?”

When his eyes opened, I caught a flash of sadness in their amber depths. Pulling his lips in, he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

Shrugging, I replied, “Then that’s where I’ll be. But if I can make one request?”

“Anything,” he breathed out.

Smirking, I retorted, “Might want to be careful with that one. What if I asked for something you’re unwilling to give?”

“I would give you the world if you asked, Dakota. Nothing is off limits.”

The crazy thing was, I believed he meant every word he said. Braxton was nothing if not genuine, and for some unknown reason, he’d honed in on me, and I wasn’t dumb enough to question it. Not anymore.

Toying with the sweat-dampened hair at his temple, I asked, “Can you get a second pass for that box?”

Surprised, he cocked his head. “Who’s the second one for.”

“Bristol.”

He swore under his breath. “Seriously? He can’t even do her that courtesy?”

“Guess not. He’s not exactly a knight in shining armor.”

Braxton snorted. “More like an ogre hiding beneath a bridge.”

If I wasn’t already falling for him, that might have done it. 

There was no blind loyalty for his teammate—no macho “bros before hoes” mentality. Braxton hadn’t shied away from making his feelings about Nix’s mistreatment of my best friend known. 

Simply put, Braxton was the real deal—a good guy.

My guy.

“Two tickets in the family box. Consider it done.” 

I curled into Braxton. If I could have crawled beneath his skin, I would have. He was quickly becoming my comfort. Not his touch, him.

And I never saw it coming.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 18

Dakota

The moment we flashed our passes to the attendant at the door and stepped inside, I realized that bringing Bristol to the family box could turn out to be a terrible idea. My senses were on high alert, scanning every woman’s face. What if Nix never offered my best friend a spot in this massive suite reserved for the players’ families because he had given that honor to someone else? 

My old insecurities had my mind going down the rabbit hole. But my fears weren’t totally unfounded. It was exactly what my father had done. 

Bristol didn’t seem to recognize anyone else, and no one caused a scene at her arrival, so hopefully, that meant we were in the clear and could enjoy our evening.

Nervously, I played with the hem of the oversized Comets jersey Braxton had had delivered to my house earlier that morning. The note said he wanted at least one person in attendance to be wearing a Braxton Slate jersey. My heart hurt a little when I read it, and my mind flashed back to our conversation in the car after our first date when he’d confessed his belief that no one could see him past his brother. I didn’t believe that was true, but who was I to tell someone else their personal feelings weren’t valid? All I could do was support him in any way he needed—and tonight, that meant wearing his name and number on my back as I cheered him on, a single person in a crowd of thousands.

Grabbing my hand, Bristol tugged me to the high-top seating overlooking the empty ice. I climbed onto a barstool beside her, and she bounced in her seat. “I can’t believe you’re here! That we’re here.” She gestured to the suite around us. 

I rolled my eyes at her playfully, but she grabbed my hand. “Seriously, I’m proud of you, Dakota.”

Shrugging, I brushed her off. “It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You might not see it, but I do. In a few short months, you’ve transformed. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you’re finally free. Free to be happy, free to chase your dreams, free to love. It’s a beautiful thing to watch your best friend fall in love.”

Balking, I protested. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh, come on,” she chided. “Three months ago, I wasn’t even allowed to watch sports when you were in the house unless I was in my room with the door closed and the volume turned down. I get it. It was triggering for you, and I respected that. But now? Look around. You’re not just attending a game; you’re sitting amongst the wives and girlfriends of the Connecticut Comets. Because you belong here. There’s a guy on that ice you care so deeply about that you’re willing to put your issues aside to be there for him. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

I chewed on my lower lip. Bristol was right. My feelings for Braxton were strong—so strong I was scared to label them for fear of what that might mean for us. Had I bought into his vision of our future together? He saw it so clearly, believing with such conviction that I was his person. Could I be happy here? Sitting, perched high above ice level, watching him play a game, and getting a chance to live the life my mom always dreamed of? 

Maybe, but I was still gun-shy. 

If I fell and there was no safety net, then what? Would I become the same shattered woman I’d watched raise me? We were still in the glow of a new relationship. Dipping my toes in didn’t mean I was ready to dive in head first. Who knew what lurked beneath the murky waters of life?

No one has a crystal ball. It’s not called a leap of faith for nothing.

A cheer from the few people gathered in the stands drew attention away from my thoughts—a welcome distraction. Both teams skated onto the ice for what Bristol explained was their warm-up. The giant big screen hovering over center ice indicated that tonight’s opponent was the Denver Glaciers. 

The teams were easy to tell apart as they glided over the smooth ice surface littered with pucks as they shot on their goalie or worked independently on stick-handling skills. The Comets were dressed in navy blue from head to toe; the only break in the solid color of their jerseys was the gray comet emblem on their chests, and their names and numbers stitched on their backs. The Glaciers were in white with pops of baby blue to complement their own logo.

Scanning the swirling mass of players on the Comets side, I searched for Braxton. Squinting, I tried to find his number eleven jersey, but the closer I looked, the more it seemed everyone was wearing the name Slate on their back, with the number twenty-three.

What in the world?

Confused, I asked Bristol, “Why are they all wearing Jaxon’s jersey.”

Tearing her gaze away from the ice, she raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“It’s Jaxon’s 1000th game. It’s kind of a big deal.”

My heart sank.

Oh, Braxton.

No wonder he’d practically begged me to come to this game and why he’d made a point of saying he needed someone in the stands wearing his number. For him, every day was the Jaxon show, but today, everyone viewed it as such. 

Braxton needed me here to know someone was there for him and not his brother. And he hadn’t told me because he didn’t want to make a big deal out of his insecurity. 

Turning my head back to the teams warming up, with my chest tight, I caught motion out of the corner of my eye that had me doing a double take. Blinking to make sure I wasn’t imagining it, I leaned over to Bristol, whispering, “Is that one humping the ice?”

Trying and failing to hold back her laughter, she explained, “They’re stretching their hip flexors.”

“Their what?”

Smirking, she held up a hand, making sure I was tracking it as she opened her thighs and ran the hand over the crease where her inner thighs met her torso. My eyes widened at the intimate location. 

“Wouldn’t want to pull a groin.” Bristol waggled her eyebrows. “That’ll throw them out of commission in more ways than one.”

I groaned. Bristol enjoyed sex and didn’t care if anyone knew it. I, on the other hand, preferred discretion. It was called a private life for a reason.

She shrugged at my reaction. “Just calling it as it is. If you watch long enough, they all get down on their knees and give the ice the ‘old college try.’” She giggled into her drink. 

My cheeks heated, and I peeked around the suite. For how large it was, I’d expected more people. 

“Where is everyone?”

Knowingly, Bristol pointed out where a few Comets players had gathered against the curved glass. “The partners who have kids with a player will be down there. The team dads love connecting with their kids pre-game. It’s a fun little ritual.”

That was adorable and heartbreaking in the same breath. I could picture Natalie and Jaxon’s kids pressed against the glass, begging for their dad’s attention, but it served as a stark reminder that my life as a player’s child had been very different from theirs. 

Closing my eyes, I reminded myself that my past was just that, the past. It was time to move forward. 

And who knew? Maybe that meant someday holding up a mini-Braxton to the glass alongside Natalie. If he had his way, that’s precisely where I’d be. 

I couldn’t deny that the idea of creating the type of family I’d always craved gave me the warm and fuzzies. 

They said you couldn’t choose your parents, but you could choose your partner. I liked the thought of writing the future I wanted. I huffed out a silent laugh that Braxton was already creating it; all he needed was for me to jump on board. And with each passing day, the urge to join him grew stronger. 

One by one, the players exited the ice, and two ice resurfacers came out to smooth out the cuts left behind by their skates prior to the start of the game. Seats in the arena were filling rapidly, and I noticed most, if not all, were clad in Jaxon’s jersey. 

It began to sink in that Braxton hadn’t been exaggerating when he told me that this town was nuts for his brother. 

The lights dimmed, and a video showcasing highlights of the Comets came on the big screen. Hoots and hollers filtered from the stands when the video showcased Jaxon lifting the championship trophy. I could only imagine what a moment that had been—both the triumph for Jaxon and the pressure it had placed on Braxton as another benchmark he would be expected to reach.

The teams came out from their respective locker rooms, the hometown crowd cheering for their Comets. Bright lights hit the ice as players did a few laps before congregating near their assigned benches. 

A side door near the curved glass opened, and a red carpet was rolled out. 

Over the loudspeaker, a voice called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, this evening, we are celebrating a historic milestone for our captain, an achievement very few players reach. Playing in his fourteenth season, all played for the Comets, tonight’s game will mark the 1000th professional game for our very own Jaxon Slate!”

Those in attendance went wild, the roar deafening.

Now, in their individually marked jerseys, I could pick out Jaxon standing off to the side of the bench, a bouquet held in one arm as he used the other to wave at the fans. With their helmets off, I spotted Braxton, whose face said it all—his brother’s accomplishment came at a personal cost. One I knew Jaxon wouldn’t want him to pay. But it wasn’t within my rights to get between them. 

“To celebrate with him tonight, we welcome Jaxon’s wife, Natalie, to the ice, along with their children, Amelia, Jameson, Beau, Charlie, and Max.” 

The applause grew louder when Natalie and the kids stepped onto the red carpet, and Jaxon skated over to meet them, bending down to kiss his wife before handing her the flowers. Scooping Charlie into his arms, they created the perfect picture of family. I couldn’t bite back a smile at seeing Max donning oversized headphones meant to protect his tiny ears from the noise. They must have been working, as he was dead asleep in his mother’s arms. 

“That’s the first family of hockey right there,” Bristol sighed dreamily. 

I knew what she was thinking. She was picturing herself down there someday by Nix’s side. I didn’t have the heart to break it to her that it was a pipe dream. He couldn’t see the good thing he had right in front of him; he was too focused on racking up the body count in his bed. 

A spotlight remained on the family as the rest of the lights in the arena cut out, and all attention was pulled to a video on the screen. 

And wouldn’t you know it, the very first face that filled the screen was that of the man who was quickly stealing my heart. 

Braxton smiled, speaking into the camera, the video obviously having been pre-recorded. “Hey, Jaxon. Congrats on one thousand games. You set the tone for those around you, pushing all of us to be better players. I’ve been fortunate to have a front-row seat to your career my entire life, and now I’m by your side, going to battle every day on the ice. I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished on and off the ice.”

My heart fluttered. Braxton was struggling, but he’d put his feelings aside to publicly congratulate his brother on what was an incredible milestone. I couldn’t begin to wrap my brain around a thousand games played. The toll that had to take on a person’s body with how physical the sport was. It was no wonder not many were able to achieve it. 

Next, an older couple—if I had to guess, they were in their mid-fifties—were pictured side by side. The man had salt-and-pepper hair, and the woman had short chestnut hair, but her whiskey eyes were what stole my breath away. I knew those eyes. Those two could only be Jaxon and Braxton’s parents. 

Their father spoke first. “Jaxon, I can still recall lacing up your skates the very first time you took the ice. It feels like only yesterday, and now, here you are, getting ready to play in your one-thousandth professional game. You’ve made us so very proud.”

A smile curled on their mom’s face. It was slightly crooked, just like her boys’. “I still get nervous every time I watch you play. I know how badly you want to win, to compete, and I feel that energy even in the stands. It’s been incredible to watch you grow, both in your love for the sport and as a leader.”

The screen changed to show clips of Jaxon’s draft day, and I saw what Natalie had meant when she said looking at Braxton was like a peek into the past. Jaxon was scrawnier, with a baby face at only eighteen, but it was clear Braxton would be a carbon copy of his older brother as he grew. He was adorable now, but I bit back a moan, knowing he would mature into the devastatingly handsome version Jaxon portrayed in his early thirties.   

A video montage came on next, starting with Jaxon’s league debut, showcasing some of his incredible goals and celebrations as the game count rose—100th, 200th, 300th, and so on, as it crept toward today being his 1000th. 

Watching these highlights, I understood Natalie’s remark in her kitchen about being unbiased about her husband’s unique talent. The compiled display of his skill was breathtaking. Jaxon was doing what he loved and was naturally gifted while having no idea that his brother was drowning under the weight of his success. 

Halfway through the count, video-recorded clips of players identified as being on other teams spoke about Jaxon’s tenacity, his sportsmanship, and his competitive drive. 

Then came more highlights through the rest of the thousand games, culminating in a clip of Jaxon accepting the playoffs’ MVP award when winning the championship. Everyone cheered at the reminder that one of the league’s best players was on their team and that he’d led them to the greatest accomplishment in team sports—I’d looked it up; there wasn’t a championship harder to win than hockey’s. 

The following clips featured Jaxon’s Comets teammates—ones I recognized. 

First came big, blond Cal. “Jaxon, you’re the best teammate and captain I could have ever asked for. You came into the league young, with an incredible level of natural talent, but you remained grounded, never letting your success go to your head. And your love for the game has never dulled. Every game is like the first one; your excitement and passion have always been infectious. Even though we no longer share the ice, it’s been my ultimate pleasure to call myself your friend and to be able to continue to follow your career from the booth. Congrats on one thousand games, and cheers to many more.”

Next, Benji’s boyish grin filled the screen. “Hey, Jaxon. There aren’t many who would take on a moody, cocky player who was riding high on his big break under their wing, but you never thought twice about it. Not only were you an incredible role model on the ice but you became one of my closest friends. Knowing I can count on you anytime, day or night, speaks volumes to the kind of leader you are. Your teammates are your family. I can’t wait to win another championship by your side as we watch our boys carve up the ice, following in our footsteps. Congrats, man. You set the bar we all strive to reach someday.”

The screen transitioned to a shot of Jaxon and Natalie’s oldest two children. Amelia and Jameson sat side by side, and you could tell their dynamic had been finely honed over the years as the younger brother looked to his older sister to go first. 

Amelia smiled. “Dad, we are so proud of you for reaching this incredible milestone in your career. It’s hard to believe that you’ve played one thousand games, and I’ve been alive for all of them. The fans who come to witness you play in person or watch the action on screen only get a small taste of what an incredible person you are. They melt over you handing your stick to an excited child in the stands or speaking with a teenage player who has suffered a career-ending injury. But that’s only scratching the surface. Only those closest to you know that hockey is your job. And while you accept the accolades with humility and grace, your crowning achievement is your family. You always tell us that we are your legacy, but you’re pretty good at the hockey thing, too.” She threw in a wink, and the crowd laughed.

Taking a peek at the family on the ice, I saw Jaxon pull his teenage daughter into his side, kissing the top of her head. 

Jameson cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat. Clearly, he wasn’t as comfortable in front of the camera as his sister. His voice wavered as he began to speak, but he pushed through. “Congrats, Dad. I think the biggest thing I admire about you is your work ethic. You never give less than one hundred and ten percent, whether it be in hockey or in life. When you set a goal, you reach it, no matter what. So, if you set a goal for two thousand games, I know we’ll be right back here in another fourteen years, helping you celebrate.”

The younger pair of Slate children, Beau and Charlie, were next up. 

Beau smirked. “It’s so cool you get to play hockey every day, Dad. I can’t wait to grow up and be just like you.”

Talk about tugging on your heartstrings. Beau idolized his father—or stepfather, in this case, but you couldn’t tell the difference. Jaxon’s love for his family was visibly reciprocated. They fit together beautifully like they were always meant to be. 

Beau nudged his little sister, but Charlie took offense, shoving him back, a scowl on her tiny face. She was feisty, that one, but she’d quickly become my favorite. Not that I would ever admit that out loud. 

From off-screen, you could hear Natalie whispering, prompting, “Say congrats to Daddy, Charlie.”

Eyes lighting up at the mention of her father, Charlie screamed, “Go Daddy!”

There was a chorus of “Aws” from the fans gathered in the stands. 

The video cut out, the lights came on, and the public addresser spoke over the loudspeaker again. “Please join the entire professional hockey league and the Comets organization in congratulating number twenty-three, Jaxon Slate!” 

The players for both teams tapped their sticks on the ice, and there was another raucous cheer throughout the arena. 

“At this time, Jaxon is joined by teammates Benji Mills and Braxton Slate as the team celebrates this incredible milestone with their captain.” Grabbing items from the bench, Jaxon’s best friend and his brother skated toward the family gathered on the red carpet. “Benji is presenting Jaxon with a commemorative framed mosaic compiled of pictures from each of his one thousand games.” 

Jaxon set Charlie down, and Amelia stepped forward to grab her hand when she tried to step onto the ice in street shoes to follow her dad when he skated to accept his gift. 

Benji pulled him into a hug, and when he released him, Jaxon skated to Braxton, embracing him as well. Standing side by side, they faced the camera smiling, and to anyone else, it appeared to be a heartwarming moment. But only I could see how Braxton’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, knowing his pain, that he was suffering in silence so that his brother could stand in the spotlight. 

“Braxton is presenting Jaxon with a solid silver stick to mark this incredible career achievement.”

The three men posed for more pictures, holding up the gifts presented to their captain on his special night. 

“It is our great honor to offer congratulations on one thousand professional games played to our captain, Jaxon Slate!” 

Benji and Braxton handed their items to people marked as Comets personnel as Jaxon posed for pictures with his family before waving to the roaring crowd and rejoining his teammates for the start of the game. The smile on his face was genuine—humble, with an excitement shining through. Hockey gave him immeasurable joy. 

If only that joy didn’t equal his brother’s misery. 

Hannah burst through the door to the suite halfway through the first period after performing the national anthem, followed closely by Natalie and Liv with their kids in tow. 

Her voice drew attention as she yelled, “I called it! I knew Amelia would be the one to make Jaxon cry.”

Natalie smiled, shaking her head, pushing a stroller. “The man is a softie for his kids. What can I say?”

As soon as she saw me, Hannah cried, “Oh! Baby Braxton’s girl is here!”

She made a beeline to where I sat with Bristol. Eyeing up my best friend, she flicked her wrist. “Move over.”

You didn’t have to tell Bristol twice. She scrambled off that barstool quickly, allowing Hannah to sit between us. 

Once seated, Hannah turned to Bristol, scanning her appraisingly. “So. You’re the roommate?”

Bristol sat up straighter, trying to impress the woman who might as well be her personal hero. “Yes, ma’am.”

A melodic laugh slipped past Hannah’s perfectly painted lips, and she turned to me. “She’s cute, but if she calls me ma’am again, I might have to hurt her.”

Panicked, Bristol blurted, “Sorry, ma’am. Shit. Sorry. I mean, Miss Moreau.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and I hid a grin beneath my hand at seeing her flustered. There was a first time for everything, it seemed. 

Biting back a smile, Hannah turned back to Bristol. “Just Hannah is fine.”

Nodding enthusiastically, she replied, “Right. Hannah. Got it.”

“What’s a hot little thing like you doing fucking around with Levi Nixon? You could do so much better.”

Bristol’s mouth dropped open, probably wondering how Hannah knew about her relationship with Nix, but I’d place my bets that she was star-struck that her idol had called her hot.

“I—um,” she stammered.

Hannah patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. One day, you’ll look back and think of him as your hockey hunk training wheels. A starter player, if you will. When you find the right one, you’ll know. Trust me.”

Turning forward, Hannah leaned over the high-top table to peek at the action on the ice. Leaning in, I whispered, “Don’t tell her I said this, but you just made her night.”

A hint of self-satisfaction colored her words. “It truly is God’s work.”

As I followed her line of sight, I had to admit Braxton was right when he said the live action would be hard to follow. Bodies moved everywhere on the ice, but there was beauty in the chaos—or what seemed like chaos. The more I watched, the more I realized it was perfectly controlled and coordinated. The timing of players jumping the boards on a shift change, the positions they swapped effortlessly to create space, how they moved a few inches to the side to avoid a hit from an opponent. 

My eyes tracked Braxton, his powerful strides carrying him across the ice. The crowd grew louder, and I tried to figure out why. Something must be happening. That’s when I saw two navy jerseys streaking toward the Glacier goalie. Other players I assumed were defensemen chased them, but the gap was too large. They’d never catch them. 

On the edge of my seat, I held my breath as Jaxon cradled the puck on the blade of his stick—yeah, I was getting better at learning the hockey terms. When it looked like he was going to shoot on the goalie, he passed the puck to Braxton. Faster than I could blink, the puck was in the back of the net, and a horn sounded.  

Hannah screamed, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Stunned, I stared as everyone in the arena rose to their feet, cheering for the Comets’ goal. 

“So much better in person. Am I right?” She nudged me with her shoulder.

“Uh-huh.”

Braxton’s smiling face lit up the big screen as his brother pulled him into a hug. He might hate the circumstances, but deep down, he loved this game. 

The screen switched to a replay of how they’d obtained a clear path to the opposing team’s goalie. It might as well have been poetry in motion the way Braxton charged the defenseman at the blue line. The puck hit off his shin so hard it bounced into the neutral zone, where Jaxon turned on the jets to get there first. Before anyone knew what was happening, the Slate brothers were off to races. Absolutely incredible. 

Dizzy from the adrenaline rush of watching him score, I placed a hand to the side of my head. 

“Never gets old,” Hannah mused. 

“I bet,” I breathed out. 

Peeking around the suite, I saw a small area set up for the kids where they played on their knees, similar to the way we had in the basement on Thanksgiving. Natalie stood off to the side, pushing the stroller back and forth, keeping one eye on the game, the other on her kids running around. Liv was in the seats in front of where we sat, but with her head lolling to the side, it appeared she was dozing off. I wondered if she’d had a busy shift. She looked exhausted when she’d walked in earlier this evening. 

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” I asked Hannah. The way everyone appeared so close at Thanksgiving, I would have thought they’d come to celebrate Jaxon’s big night.

“Lucy and Preston are on their way up for the weekend. Traffic from Manhattan during Friday night rush hour is a real bitch, with everyone coming to their country homes for the weekend. They should make it in time for the after-party.”

My eyebrows rose. “After-party?”

Hannah cocked her head. “Braxton didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head. “He didn’t tell me about the milestone game for Jaxon at all. I found out when I got here.”

“Interesting.” Her lips twisted. “Well, anyway. After the game, we’ve got a room rented out at a nearby restaurant, a little post-game celebration for the man of the hour. I’m sure Braxton will extend an invite later.”

“Yeah, maybe.” If I knew Braxton, he’d need space from his brother after the spectacle earlier. 

“Amy and Liam aren’t going to make it. Liam’s gone all guard dog over the baby and put his foot down when he realized how many people—or rather, germs—Nate would be exposed to. That, and he practically threw a fit over the idea of there being nowhere private enough for Amy to breastfeed.”

I took a sip of my drink, measuring my words carefully, considering those people were her friends. “That sounds . . . controlling.”

Hannah barked out a laugh. “Oh, it is. But don’t you worry about our Amy. She’s no doormat and has learned how to pick her battles. Little secret between you and me; half the time, she lets him believe he’s calling the shots.”

“And the other half?” I hedged.

A wicked grin split her face. “That’s when you grab the popcorn. Amy is calm and rational, but when pushed too far, she knows exactly how to put her husband in his place. Everyone thinks Cal and I are fun to watch, and they might be right because our showtimes are more frequent. But an Amy Michaels outburst followed by a Liam Remington meltdown is worth the wait.”

Surprised, I asked, “She kept her last name?”

“Oh yeah.” Hannah nodded. “Amy isn’t a wilting flower. Not by a long shot. That badass boss bitch is going to make one hell of a queen.”

It still blew me away that people in that friend group were actual royalty. They were so down-to-earth. It was refreshing to see that they were regular people like the rest of us. A title didn’t define them, didn’t dictate their attitudes.

It struck me that this was a turning point in my life. 

Preconceived notions hadn’t gotten me anywhere to this point. It was time to hang them all up, once and for all.

The Comets were crushing the Glaciers. Well into the third period, the Comets led by a score of five to one. That came with a little extra lesson from Hannah at my side as the Glaciers changed their goalie after the fourth goal. She explained that a netminder’s mental game needed to be as strong as his physical one, and after a few too many goals let in, they could start to doubt themselves, leading to even more goals against. So, changing it up and replacing them—even though their backup came in cold—was sometimes enough to change the tide or at least stop the bleeding. 

There had only been one goal for the home team since the goalie swap, so it seemed to be working. But with only five minutes left on the clock, a win for the Comets was inevitable. 

Everyone in the box was in good spirits with the team doing well. Hannah and Bristol bonded sometime in the second period over cum sponges. Hannah had never heard of such a thing, and listening to Bristol’s description, my anxiety shot through the roof, knowing she wasn’t doubling up on protection with Nix. That girl was inviting trouble.

Hannah scoffed beside me. “Fucking pointless.”

“What?” I searched the ice, trying to pinpoint what she was referring to.

Using a finger, she gestured to the Glaciers’ net. “Pulled the goalie. What’s the point down four? Like, come on, you didn’t score more than one goal in the last fifty-seven minutes, but you think you’re gonna light it up in the final three?”

This scenario hadn’t come up in my research, so I asked, “What’s the benefit?”

Shrugging, Hannah sighed. “So, if you take your goalie out of the net, you can throw out an extra skater. It’s like a power play, in a way. But there’s a risk involved. As you can see, it leaves the net open and vulnerable. Makes it very easy for the other team to score a free goal if they can clear the zone.”

Almost as if she conjured it into existence, a flash of navy caught my eye. A Comets player was streaking toward the empty net with the puck. It took less than a second to realize it was Braxton, and I was on my feet screaming, “Shoot!” like he could hear me over the twenty thousand other fans yelling and cheering for him. 

The second he crossed the blue line, he lined up the shot, sliding it in nice and easy across the ice and into the net. Everyone went nuts. And I wasn’t talking about regular goal cheering. There was hooting and hollering, and suddenly, things were being thrown onto the ice. 

Leaning over, I tried to get a good look at exactly what it was. Wasn’t that dangerous? It had to be against the rules, right?

Scanning the seats below us, I saw a man whip off his ball cap and heave it over the glass and onto the ice. 

What the hell?

Hannah had two fingers in her mouth. The whistle that followed had me cringing at the volume. 

“What’s going on? Why are they throwing hats?”

Smiling at me and patting my hand as if I were a small child, she explained, “Your boy just scored his first professional hat trick. Better mark it down in the baby book!”

Ignoring that she’d called him a baby more than once since her arrival, I asked, “What’s a hat trick?”

Bristol leaned her forearms onto the counter, yelling, “Three goals for a single player!”

Mentally, I recounted the goals I’d seen this evening using my fingers. Yep, three for Braxton. 

Proud of him for scoring half of his team’s goals during the game, I peered down to see him watching with his teammates as hats rained down on the ice faster than the crew on skates with big plastic bins could clear them. 

“I’m guessing that’s a big deal?” 

Slinging an arm over my shoulder, Hannah pulled me close. “Oh, honey. It’s so good. You better buckle up because you are gonna get railed into next week when he gets his hands on you.” Shaking her head, she muttered, “So jealous.”

My eyes widened. What was she talking about? What did scoring three goals have to do with Braxton wanting to have sex? And according to Hannah, it wouldn’t be easy, gentle lovemaking. She made it sound like he would want to fuck hard. 

Bristol caught my eye, giggling behind her hand. She knew my secret, but there was a question neither of us had the answer to.

Would tonight be the night I lost my virginity?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 19

Braxton

Tonight had been all about Jaxon, but in true selfless-big-brother form, he shared the spotlight. Not once, but twice, he’d set me up for goals. The only one I’d earned on my own merit was the final one—a gimme goal on an empty net. It wasn’t the most respectable hat trick in the history of hockey, but it counted just the same.

And sure, it didn’t hurt knowing my girl was in the stands watching. 

The clock hit triple zeros, the horn sounded right before the team’s victory song blasted through the arena speakers, and we lined up to congratulate Reed in net. 

Jaxon snuck up behind me, shaking my helmeted head with his gloved hand. “Hell of a game, man. You’ll remember this one forever.”

Yeah, but not for the reason you think.

He was right. I would remember this game forever. But it wouldn’t be my accomplishments that stood out in the forefront of my mind. It would be the praise raining down on my brother while I faked a smile, pretending for all the world to see that he was my idol, that I couldn’t help but follow in his footsteps. Only I knew that was all a lie, a façade, so I didn’t look like a toddler having a temper tantrum because their older brother had something they didn’t.

Deep down, I was happy for him. He had earned the accolades he’d received throughout his career. I only wished it wasn’t shoved in my face every minute of every day.

Giving Reed a tap to the pads with my stick and congratulating him with my helmet pressed to his, I skated to the bench where the hallway led to the locker rooms beneath the arena. 

Jaxon followed directly behind, carefully stepping on the protective flooring so we didn’t trash the blades on our skates. When I came to a screeching halt, he barreled into me, knocking me off balance, and I dropped to my knees. 

“Shit. Sorry, Braxton.” An arm looped around mine, dragging me back to standing. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” I said in a daze, dread settling in my gut. 

“Good. Let’s get moving. We’ve got a party to get to and the press to deal with first.”

Moving around me, Jaxon strode down the hall, finally viewing the reason for my sudden reluctance to continue my trek to the locker room. 

“Hey, Dad.”

I knew my parents were in town, but this was the first time I’d come face-to-face with Michael Slate since my professional debut. Judging by his stormy expression, I was in for it. 

Seriously? I’m trying everything to make it through this day in one piece.

Blowing out a breath, I trudged toward what promised to be harsh judgment from my father. It was nothing new, but maybe some small part of me had hoped that proving myself in the league—yeah, okay, I could admit Jaxon was padding my stats—would be enough to have him back off a bit. But I guess that was nothing more than a pipe dream. 

Jaxon had just finished giving Mom a hug when Dad’s booming voice echoed off the concrete walls. “What the hell is the matter with you? Tonight was about your brother. And you made a conscious effort to turn it around and put yourself in the spotlight!”

My mom’s jaw dropped, and she yelled, “Michael!”

Even though she was loud, it was the soft gasp that demanded my attention. And there, standing beside Natalie, was the girl I’d begged to attend tonight—the girl I was falling head over heels in love with—with her brilliant blue eyes widened at my father’s outburst.  

My jaw clenched. It was one thing to explain living in Jaxon’s shadow, quite another for her to have a front-row seat to the reason it bothered me so much. It was more than I could handle. 

“Nat, get her out of here,” I forced out through gritted teeth. 

“Braxton—” my sister-in-law began, understanding in her eyes. 

“Now!” I raised my voice, the control on my temper hanging by a thread. 

Ducking her head, Natalie did as I asked, tugging Dakota down the hallway and out of sight. 

Half expecting Jaxon to rip my head off for yelling at his wife, he turned on our father. “What the fuck, Dad? Braxton had the game of his life out there tonight.”

Undeterred, the man who gave me life spat back, “On your night.”

“Seriously? You think I care? It stopped being my night the second the puck dropped. The pomp and circumstance were more than enough. Too much, really. But it was important to the fans, to the organization, so I let them run with it. And if tonight’s celebrations highlighted anything, it’s that I’ve been playing this game for a very long time. Long enough to know that it’s about the team, not individual players. I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without the incredible guys on the ice by my side. And that includes Braxton.”

Dad opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. “You know what? Fuck you. I’m done with this shit.”

Storming past my parents, I made it halfway to the locker room before Jaxon was hot on my heels. 

“Braxton, slow down. That was not okay what he did back there.”

I scoffed. “I should be used to it by now. Been dealing with it my whole life.”

Stunned, Jaxon blinked at me. “What?”

“Do you really not know how he’s treated me since the day he laced skates onto my feet?” When he didn’t respond, bitter laughter slipped past my lips. “It’s okay, Jaxon. You and I grew up with very different fathers. Enjoy yours because I’m done with mine.”

With that, I stormed off. I didn’t give a shit if I got fined for refusing to speak to the press. I was done for the night. 

Just when I think it can’t get any worse.

Freshly showered, long after everyone else had left, I walked to the parking garage attached to the arena toward my car. All I wanted to do was go home and knock back a couple of stiff drinks—get drunk enough to black out so I could forget this night ever happened. 

But it would seem God had other plans. 

Dakota was leaning against the side of my car, her sad blue eyes tracking my progress across the lot. I couldn’t even fully appreciate how amazing she looked in my jersey after what had just happened.

What I wouldn’t give to erase the scene in the tunnel from her memory. Not only was I a grown man being dressed down by my father in public, but I had lost my cool and snapped at Natalie when she’d done nothing wrong. In fact, she was the only person in this world who understood how I felt.

Something broke inside of me when I saw Dakota.

I was so ashamed. 

Ashamed that I hadn’t fought back.

Ashamed that I couldn’t give her the same kind of life Jaxon gave his family. 

Ashamed that I didn’t believe in myself. 

Closing my eyes, I exhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm swirling inside. An emotional breakdown would be the cherry on the top of this shit sundae of a day. 

Arms circled my waist, and a warm weight pressed into my chest. 

“I’m right here.” Three simple words, and they cracked my heart wide open.

Fuck. She knew what I needed better than I did. Our connection was the only thing anchoring me. 

Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I inhaled her scent.

How could I not believe in fate when she had walked into my life at the exact moment I needed her? She took my mind off the stress and pressure of playing with Jaxon, giving me the perfect distraction. Not only that, she’d become my outlet. For so long, I’d kept my feelings inside, but I didn’t have to hide with her. She saw me for who I was, never once asking me to be more. 

Tightening my grasp, I held onto her for dear life. So long as I had her, I didn’t need anything else. 

Swallowing back the pain, I whispered into her hair, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

With her face pressed to my chest, Dakota’s words were muffled. “I’m not.”

Stunned, I pulled back enough that she could peer up at me. “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “It was the wake-up call I needed. All these years, it’s nagged at the back of my mind, wondering why my dad didn’t care enough about me to want a relationship with me post-divorce. Today, I realized that maybe I was better off.” She reached up to cup my face. “But I hate that I had to watch you suffer to see that.”

“It’s fine.” I sighed. “I’m used to it.”

Dark blue eyes searched mine. “It’s not right. No child should be used to their parent verbally abusing them. Making them feel like less. You don’t deserve that.” 

Leaning down, I pressed my forehead to hers. “Thank you for being here tonight.”

Fingers stroked my cheeks. “I wish you’d told me about Jaxon’s celebration.”

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated. I wanted you to come to watch me play because it was what you wanted. Not because it’s what you thought I needed.”

“You were incredible out there tonight.” Her voice was filled with reverence. 

“You don’t have to say that. Jaxon made me look good.”

Hands gripping my face, she forced my head back. “Honesty, right?”

Releasing a heavy breath, I confirmed, “Yeah.”

“Then believe me when I say it was you I was watching all night. Not your brother. It was your name I was screaming in the stands. And it’s your name and number I’m wearing on my back. How many times have you told me it’s a team game? Would you be downplaying your role if you were the one giving the assists to Jaxon?” She arched an eyebrow.

“No,” I grumbled.

She was right. Jaxon’s presence tainted my perception of my own game. I was seeing things that may or may not even be there because I expected them to be. Jaxon took care of everyone in his life, so it only seemed logical that he would go out of his way to look out for me on the ice. But so long as we were out there together, I would never know for sure if I earned any of it on my own. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I breathed out, dipping my head to brush my lips against hers. 

It was meant to be a quick kiss, but she deepened it, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. Groaning, I gripped her hips, trying to bring our bodies closer. She drove me insane in all the best ways. Her heart and soul only added to the physical attraction I felt for her. 

Breathless, she broke away. “Is it crazy to think we were exactly what the other needed?”

Nuzzling her neck, I whispered, “Not at all.”

There was a smile in her voice. “And to think I almost wrote you off as nothing more than a cocky, self-absorbed, asshole athlete.”

Smirking, I couldn’t help myself. “Maybe we can keep cocky in there.”

Her laughter rolled over me like honey, thick and sweet. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. 

Stepping out of my arms, she took in my appearance, still dressed in my gameday suit. Smoothing her hands over the lapels, her eyes darkened. “You look nice.”

“Oh yeah?” I did a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn so she could get the full experience. 

“Mm-hmm.” I loved the way she devoured me with her eyes.

“Come to more games, and you might catch me like this more often,” I teased.

“Don’t tempt me.” Dakota bit her lip.

Clicking my tongue, I used my thumb to tug that lower lip free. “But that’s half the fun.”

Rolling her eyes playfully, she snuggled back into my chest. The comfort she brought to my life was powerful; I wasn’t sure I’d be able to live without it now that I had gotten a taste. 

“Don’t you have a party to go to?”

“Not in the mood.” 

I was slowly coming out of the fog from the evening’s earlier events, and seeing everyone again so soon would only set me back. Knowing Natalie, she’d corner me, wanting to talk about it. I needed some space and distance from our group. Dakota was more than enough. 

But with the holidays fast approaching, I knew I couldn’t avoid them for long. 

“Dakota?”

“Yeah?”

With hope tightening my chest, I asked, “Would you come to Minnesota with me for Christmas?”

“What?” She stepped out of my hold. 

I ran a hand through my hair, damp from my post-game shower. “Normally, everyone stays close for the few days we have off, but this year, the Comets are playing the Minneapolis Freeze. Usually, Nat and the kids will travel out there when we play them because my parents are close by. So, Jaxon got the idea to go out as soon as the break starts. We get three days off, and then we can meet the rest of the team once they travel from Hartford. I’m supposed to go with them. But I don’t want to without you.”

Dakota shifted on her feet. “I don’t know. The idea of spending time with your parents? After what just happened?”

Stepping forward, I took her hands in mine. “The last thing I want is to see my dad right now, trust me. But the kids are growing up so fast. Especially the older ones, and I don’t want my issues to pull me out of the magic of the holidays with them. We can stay with Jaxon and Natalie, and do our own thing on Christmas Day when they go to dinner at my parents’ house. Please?”

Squeezing my hands, she said, “Okay.”

“Really?” I tried to curb my desperation to hear her say yes. But who was I kidding? The idea of her coming home with me would be the greatest gift I ever received. 

“Yeah.” She gave me a small smile. “Let me know the flight details, and I’ll book a seat.”

If there had been any nagging doubts that her athlete-hating was a front—a way to seem less eager—they were put to rest by that single sentence. Not only did she have no clue how Jaxon Slate’s entourage traveled, but she was offering to pay her own way. 

My love for her grew by the minute. Each time she opened her mouth, it only cemented that she was the one. 

This might just be the best Christmas of my life—our first Christmas of many.

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Chapter 20

Braxton

Holding her hand over the center console of my car, as was my right as the boyfriend, I pulled into the parking lot of the private airstrip in Hartford on the morning of Christmas Eve. I’d pushed Dakota off all week when she hounded me about buying a plane ticket. I wasn’t sure of her financial situation—honestly, it wasn’t any of my business—but even if we weren’t flying private, there was no way in hell she was paying to accompany me home when I was the one who invited her. That’s not how this worked.  

Confused, she peered through the windshield. “Where are we?”

“The airport,” I replied casually. 

“This is not the airport.”

“Of course it is.” I gestured with my hand out the window. “See? Airplanes.”

“Braxton, this isn’t funny!” Her voice got high and squeaky, and I couldn’t help but smile at her panic. 

“I’ll get the bags.” Stepping out of the car, I popped the trunk, grabbing our suitcases. 

The passenger door slammed, and Dakota pressed into my side, rising on her tiptoes to hiss in my ear. “What the hell is going on?”

Slamming the trunk, I offered, “We’re going to Minnesota for Christmas.”

She huffed, the rush of air blowing curls away from her face. “I know that.”

“Good. I was starting to worry.” I bopped her on the nose.

Dakota swatted my hand away. “Seriously? A private plane? You didn’t think it might be important to share that little nugget of information before now?”

Cocking my head, I challenged, “Why? Would it have changed your mind to come with me?”

She paused, and I saw the exact moment she gave up the ridiculous fight. “No. It’s just—” She sighed. “You and I come from very different worlds.”

“No, we don’t.” Dipping my head, I kissed her softly. “This is Jaxon’s world, not mine.”

Nodding, she mused, “I should have figured. I’ve seen their house.”

I chuckled. “Oh, Jaxon didn’t buy that house. That was all Liam. After the divorce, he and Amy moved in with Natalie to help with the kids. Bear in mind that back then, he was simply Nat’s brother-in-law and Amy was her best friend. Nothing romantic happened between those two until after Natalie and Jaxon were married. Jaxon’s house was the much smaller one next door. The two couples switched. Well, I suppose Natalie got to stay where she was.” Wheeling our suitcases through the parking lot with Dakota by my side, I explained, “However, that’s not to say Jaxon isn’t in a whole different tax bracket than me. I could play for ten years at my current salary and not earn what Jaxon does in a year.” Using my fist, I pounded the side of their enormous eight-passenger, armored SUV as we passed. “His car costs double my monthly paycheck.”

She placed her hand on my arm, halting my progress before we crossed the threshold to the small reception vestibule. “I know you can’t help but compare yourself to him, but maybe you need a reminder that he started out exactly where you are. Hockey isn’t like other sports where you can make a killing right out of the gate. Every single one of you gets the same entry-level contract with the same base salary for your first three years. It’s what you do in those three years that counts.”

“Someone’s been doing their research,” I teased. 

A corner of her kissable lips turned up. “Some pain-in-the-ass rookie keeps giving me homework. Not like I have a day job or anything.” 

She was right, though; I couldn’t compare my career in its infancy to Jaxon’s mature one. A lot could change in three years. 

Nudging Dakota with an elbow, I tipped my chin toward the glass doors. “Come on. Our chariot awaits.”

Walking into the warm space, I spoke to the receptionist, giving our names and charter number. She told us which tarmac and that if we didn’t want to walk, they could arrange a shuttle. By the time I turned to ask Dakota her preference, she was halfway out the door. 

Jogging to catch up with her, I asked, “You sure you don’t want that shuttle?”

Curls whipping in the wind, she shook her head. “Might as well stretch my legs while I can. We’re going to be cooped up for hours inside a metal tube.” The subtle laugh barely reached my ears as she added, “Good thing you didn’t choose Bristol. She’s terrified of flying.”

“Seriously?” That was a surprise, considering how outgoing she was, but I suppose everyone had issues, no matter how sunny or bright their disposition. 

“Oh, yeah. We flew to Florida during spring break two years ago, and they almost had to make an emergency landing. She freaked out that bad.”

Stepping up to the crew who descended the short staircase to take our bags, I handed them over, placing a hand on Dakota’s back to enter the plane ahead of me.

The second we stepped inside, we were hit with a wall of sound. 

Charlie was screaming, throwing her tiny body on the ground in a tantrum. Max’s accompanying wails were quiet by comparison but no less insistent. Natalie wore a weary expression, trying to calm him. Beau was arguing with his older brother over who would get the window seat, with Jaxon trying to mediate. 

Smirking, Dakota peeked back at me. “Athletes, they’re just like everyone else.”

I couldn’t hold back a snort. A few short months ago, she wouldn’t have been caught dead on this plane with not just one but two professional hockey players. Now, she was cracking jokes, understanding that our lives weren’t perfect. That we were human, and we didn’t think we were better than anyone else. Life in the spotlight didn’t have to change you—it only did if you let it.

The boys finally stopped yelling over one another, and Jaxon moved to deal with Charlie. Natalie saw that we had boarded and gave a weak smile. “Sorry, we’re having a rough morning.”

Most girls would be wondering what the hell they’d gotten themselves into, but not Dakota. Stepping right into the fray, she offered, “Tell me what I can do.”

Natalie’s eyes met mine before she smiled at my girl. “You’re so sweet to offer. I’m sure we'll be fine if we can settle the little ones.”

Charlie’s screaming ceased suddenly, but there was still a ringing in my ears from the high pitch. Tears staining her face, she looked up. “Da-pota?”

Dropping to her knees in the aisle, Dakota tucked the messy black strands away from my niece’s face. “Hey, Charlie. Do you want to sit beside me?”

She peeked at her mom for approval. Natalie nodded. “It’s fine with me.”

Charlie stood, throwing her arms around Dakota’s neck. “Yes, please.” She hiccupped, trying to calm down after her tantrum.

Getting to her feet, the toddler still held in her arms, Dakota spun to face me. I was sure the expression on my face said it all—that I was in complete and total awe of her—and she blushed, averting her eyes. She fit seamlessly into our family, stepping right in and throwing herself into the chaos without a second thought. 

Natalie motioned to a car seat set up for Charlie. Abandoning my carry-on, I moved to help her with the buckles. Placing my hands atop hers on the straps, she let me take over, dropping into the empty seat. 

I wasn’t kidding when I told Dakota I could see our future with crystal clarity. And right now, I could imagine buckling our own dark-haired little girl into a seat and heading home for the holidays. I wondered if she would want to get a summer home in Minnesota near Natalie and Jaxon or if there was somewhere else she might prefer. Or maybe she wanted to spend all year in Hartford. It didn’t matter, so long as we were together. 

I was moving at the speed of light in my mind, but I didn’t care. My future was seated right in front of me, and I was going to hold on with both hands. She was mine, and I was keeping her. Forever. 

“Braxton?” Her musical voice broke into my daydream. 

“Yeah?” I was still in a daze, lost in the vision of our life together. 

“Are you going to sit down? They’ve closed the doors, and the pilot said we’re going to take off soon.”

Plopping into the seat across the aisle, I reached over to grab her hand, stroking the knuckles softly with my thumb. Sighing, her head dropped back on the headrest, and her eyes drifted shut. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered, my words almost drowned out by the engines turning on. 

Head lolling to the side to peek at Charlie quickly, she turned back to me. “I know, but I wanted to. She’s a sweet little girl, but I can imagine getting lost in the shuffle is frustrating, and she’s not old enough to vocalize it. So, she acts out, trying to get attention. I’m more than happy to give her a little bit of my time. It’s simple, but I have a feeling it means a lot to her.”

My heart grew three sizes inside my chest; that small act of compassion for a three-year-old meant even more to me. 

Dakota was beautiful inside and out. She was perceptive to others’ needs and was quick to offer emotional comfort. It might seem insignificant in her mind, but she left her mark everywhere she went. Her tiny actions would leave a lasting impression on those whose lives she’d touched. 

And I was the lucky bastard she’d let down her walls for. I would never take that for granted. It would become my life’s mission to cherish this woman the way she deserved. I would devote my entire life to her happiness. 

Our forever had already begun.

It was early afternoon when we arrived in Minneapolis, where it was a good fifteen degrees cooler than the temperature in Connecticut when we’d left. There was a reason the hometown hockey team was called the Freeze. You were hard-pressed to find a day above freezing in the winter out here. It was great for the thousands of lakes, providing the ideal condition for nature’s outdoor ice rinks, but if you weren’t accustomed to the low temps, it could be a shock. 

Case in point: Dakota was shivering the second we stepped off the plane. Immediately, I shucked my winter coat, placing it over her shoulders. 

“Layers are the only way to combat the cold, baby,” I whispered in her ear.

Turning around, she saw I was standing outside in only my sweater, and she tried to give back my coat. Placing my hands on her shoulders, my voice grew stern. “Don’t even think about it.” 

Dakota’s sigh was so heavy it formed an icy cloud that hung in the air. “I’m wearing two coats now, Braxton. You’re going to freeze to death.”

“We’ll be inside the car in five minutes. I’ll survive.”

“Stubborn ass,” she mumbled. 

I smirked. “Maybe I want an excuse to hold you close all evening, sharing body heat to raise my core temp again.”

That got a tiny smile from her. “Wouldn’t put it past you.”

Grabbing our bags from the crew, I led her to one of the two cars waiting to take us to Jaxon and Natalie’s house, an hour away. 

Thankfully, the driver had the heat cranked up, and within minutes, Dakota was shedding both coats. Pulling her across the bench seat, I purred in her ear, “Just think, we can spend all weekend cuddled up in front of a roaring fire.”

She melted into my side but countered, “This isn’t a romantic getaway. It’s Christmas with your brother’s family.”

Oh, she had so much to learn. “Do you think the two of them won’t be all lovey-dovey? Because I can assure you, they will. They won’t even notice we’re there.”

“They might not, but there are two teenagers who will probably be scarred for life.”

“You’re right. Wouldn’t want them to see healthy, loving, respectful relationships in action so they know what to look for as they grow older,” I countered.

Argue with that one, babe.

“Wow, okay.” Dakota huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “You came to play.”

“No.” I kissed her temple. “I came to win.”

Her breathing hitched as those words sank in. But for good measure, I added, “In case you’re wondering, you’re the prize, Firefly.”

That stunned her into silence, and I was more than happy to let her get lost in the thoughts of just how much she meant to me. 

Reaching Jaxon’s lakefront house, I grabbed our bags as Dakota went to the other car to help Natalie with the kids. With the freezing temps, the snow from the blizzard that had kept planes grounded for Thanksgiving was still on the ground. It would be a beautifully white Christmas. 

Stepping over the threshold, I took in the beauty of my brother and his wife’s summer home decked out for the holidays. I knew for a fact Mom had taken care of decorating the space. She loved being a grandma and was all about recreating the magic of our childhood with Jaxon’s kids. This would be their first Christmas spent in Minnesota, and it was clear she’d gone overboard. 

A massive tree was set in the corner of the living room, stretching so tall it nearly brushed the exposed wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling. Lights were already strung up, and boxes of hand-painted ornaments were laid off to the side so the kids could trim the tree themselves. The backdrop through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the frozen lake was like looking at a holiday card. 

Arms looped around my waist from behind. Dakota’s voice was full of awe. “This place is stunning.”

Tugging her in front of me, I reversed our position, placing my chin atop her head. “Not too shabby for a cozy holiday spent with loved ones.” When she snuggled further into my chest, I knew she understood that she counted as one of my loved ones. And I could only pray that I would earn that same designation from her at some point. 

Giving her a squeeze, I released my hold, steering her suitcase to the in-law suite on the first floor off the kitchen. “You’re over here.”

Leading the way, I brought her roller bag to rest beside the dresser before giving a mini tour of the suite. “Over here, you have your own bathroom. There are towels in the linen closet. Anything else you need, let me know. I’m sure they’ve got extra of just about everything.”

Eyeing the lone suitcase I’d brought into the room, she asked, “Just me?”

“Yeah. This room is perfect because you have your own space.”

Frowning, a tiny wrinkle formed between her brows. “Where are you staying?”

“Beau is bunking up with Jameson, so I’ll take his room.” I shrugged. 

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to put anyone out by being here.”

Before she could get too deep into her thoughts, believing she was a burden, I closed the gap between us, cradling her face and demanding her attention. “It’s not a problem. Trust me.”

The last thing I expected in response was for her to step back, hurt crossing her features. “Oh.” Crossing her arms over her middle, Dakota’s voice grew whisper-soft. “Do you—do you not want to stay in here with me?”

“What? Why would you think that?” My hands itched to comfort her, but I didn’t want to make the wrong move and worsen the situation. 

She sank onto the bed. “Because you’re displacing a little boy from his bedroom to avoid sleeping in the same bed with me.”

Dropping to a knee before her, I peeled her hands away from where they clutched her waist, taking them in mine. “Of course, I would want to sleep in here with you. But I don’t want you to think there’s an expectation if I do. That’s not why I asked you to come home with me for the holidays. I meant what I said about never letting you go. We have all the time in the world. There’s no need to rush this.”

“Are you sure?” Those sapphire eyes searched mine. 

“Positive,” I confirmed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Giving me a small smile, she nodded. “Okay.”

Squeezing her hands, I stood. “Get settled in. Jaxon’s got baking on the agenda this afternoon before we cozy up with holiday movies.” Walking to the door, I paused. “Oh, and Dakota?”

“Yeah?” She turned to face me.

“When I do take you to bed? I’m never fucking leaving.” With that, I left the room.

Sit on that for a minute. 

Once I claimed her body, there would be no turning back. So, she had better be ready.

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Chapter 21

Dakota

“Your brother bakes.” A giggle worked its way up my throat as I buried my face in Braxton’s neck.

One of his hands glided lazily up and down my back, where I was curled into his side on the couch. “Yes, he does.”

“No.” My body shook with the effort it took to hold in laughter. “He really bakes. Like, from scratch.”

Chuckling, Braxton plucked the glass of eggnog from my hand. “Okay, you’re cut off.”

“Party pooper,” I whined, sticking my lip out in a pout. 

Draining the rest of my drink, he licked his lower lip, causing me to shift in my seat. Braxton noticed my attention on his mouth and the physical response, and his eyes flared.

“Lush,” he teased, voice husky.

“Who, me?”

His thumb caressed my cheek. “Oh yes, you.”

I wasn’t normally a big drinker, but he had a point. I had overindulged. The glass of eggnog he stole was my fourth that evening. I would prefer to blame losing myself in alcohol on the fact that I was awkwardly crashing this family’s holiday, but if I was being honest, the root cause was Braxton’s words from earlier. They had shifted my world on its axis. 

For as long as I lived, I would never forget how he looked at me—the possession in his eyes—and the unwavering confidence with which he spoke. 

It should terrify me that he knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life—a life he’d made no secret that I would have a starring role in. But for some reason, I found myself craving the picture he painted, the family he envisioned. Maybe it was because I didn’t have that growing up—a family created because two people couldn’t contain their love for each other. 

A family like Jaxon and Natalie had. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off them this afternoon as I observed their holiday tradition of making homemade gingerbread houses, among other types of cookies. Each child had been involved in some way—minus Max, of course, asleep in his bassinet. Charlie held a perch on the kitchen island, taste-testing the dough whenever her mother’s back was turned. Natalie had made it clear early on that the kids weren’t to eat raw dough, and while Jaxon agreed with his wife, the defiant sparkle in his eyes told a different story. He and Charlie were in cahoots, and my heart warmed watching the love he had not only for his toddler daughter but for all the children. 

The love of that family unit was nothing compared to Jaxon's unfiltered adoration for his wife. It was as if he were magnetically drawn to her. Whenever she was within arm’s reach, his touch was a certainty—whether it was a light graze of her shoulder, a hand to her lower back, or the hair brushed away from her face. But even when she was across the room, his eyes constantly flitted to her like she was a beacon. She commanded his attention by merely existing.

It was incredible to watch in person, and I understood why women lost their minds over fictional love. There was a hope that, one day, you might be of the receiving end of the kind of love Jaxon had for his wife. Until today, I hadn’t believed such a thing existed. 

Could it be as easy as they made it look?

For the first time in my life, I wanted to find out.

The credits rolled on the kids’ holiday movie on the screen above the stone fireplace. That must have been some sort of signal for the Slate children because they immediately moved to huddle together at the base of the massive Christmas tree they had decorated mere hours ago.

Amelia took charge, handing wrapped boxes to her siblings before turning and handing identical ones to her parents. Returning to the tree, she grabbed two more, stopping before Braxton and me. 

“Uncle Braxton.” He accepted the gift with a smirk. “And one for you, Dakota.”

“What’s this?” I asked, taking the festively wrapped package she offered. 

Peeking back at her parents, she smiled. “It’s our holiday tradition for the whole family to wear matching pajamas for Christmas Eve. Something Mom started with us when we moved back to Connecticut.”

I could barely move, barely breathe. Was this fresh-faced teenage girl implying that I was a member of this picture-perfect family? 

“Oh, but I’m not . . .” The words died on my lips as emotion took over, and my throat closed up.

Braxton leaned in close, speaking low in my ear. “If it makes you feel any better, this is my first time being included. This used to be a sacred ritual reserved only for Nat and her girls. Plus Liam, of course.”

That didn’t help. It only meant this gesture was even more significant. Natalie’s “family” was about so much more than blood. It was about connection, trust, and loving the people you chose to share your life with. I’d known them for two months. How could they have chosen me so easily when my own flesh and blood had discarded me without a second thought? 

The clash of emotions became too much, and my vision blurred. When the first hot tear slipped down my cheek, embarrassment hit me with the force of a freight train, and instinctively, I buried my face in Braxton’s chest. In such a short time, he had become my safe space. 

Arms locked around me, holding me tight as sobs racked my chest. A hand stroked over my hair as his soft words murmured in my ear. “It’s okay, Firefly. I’ve got you. Let it all out.”

Faintly, I heard the timid voice of the teenage girl standing above us. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

Braxton was quick to set his niece’s mind at ease. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.”

Natalie spoke, though I could barely hear her as my ears became congested by the constant sniffling. “All right, kids. Let’s get ready for bed. Santa won’t come if you’re still awake.”

There was the distant shuffling of feet before stomping sounded on the stairs. 

Burrowing deeper into Braxton’s embrace, I was vaguely aware when he shifted us enough that he could stand, with me still held in his arms. Before long, I was surrounded by the softness and comfort of what felt like a bed. My eyes were shut tight, not ready to face the demons of my past, combined with the realities of the unexpected present. 

Soft lips brushed against my forehead as Braxton whispered, “Rest, sweetheart.”

Those words were simple and few but brought so much comfort. Braxton never pushed, never expected me to put on a brave face, and never wanted me to be anything other than myself. He was there for me no matter what, and I found I was beginning to rely on it. 

A warmth settled over my body at the thought of having one person always in my corner. I hadn’t had that in years, not since my mom passed. Knowing she would adore how Braxton cared for me was what allowed my body to relax enough to fall asleep.

Groaning, I gripped the side of my head where it threatened to explode. Instantly, I was reminded of why I didn’t drink often. The aftermath wasn’t worth it.

A gentle knock sounded on the door, but it seemed more like an exaggerated banging in my hungover state. 

“Go away,” I mumbled into the bedding.

A piercing stream of light filtered into the room, and I buried my face deeper into my pillow, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

“Merry Christmas, Firefly.” Braxton’s soft voice soothed the pounding in my head somewhat, and I forced myself to roll over and crack an eye open. A smile curved on his lips. “There she is.”

He was simply too beautiful not to look at, and I forced my other eye open to devour the handsome man who was somehow wholly enamored with me. It almost didn’t seem real.

“Merry Christmas,” I croaked out. Shit, my throat was so dry, and my mouth felt like cotton.

Stepping further into the room, he leaned a hip against the dresser. “What’ll it be this morning? Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?”

“Will you judge me if I ask for hot chocolate with a side of painkillers?” My fingers pressed into my temple.

Braxton chuckled, sipping his drink of choice from a mug held in his hands. “Had yourself a night, didn’t you?”

Covering my face with both hands, I let out a groan. “Did I really cry over pajamas?”

The bed dipped beside me, and Braxton peeled my hands away. “It was cute.” Humor sparkled in the depth of his whiskey-colored eyes.

Sitting up against the headboard, I spied the still-wrapped box on the nightstand. “It’s just . . .” I sighed. 

Braxton squeezed my hand. “It’s okay. I know this is a lot.”

Squeezing back, I explained, “I didn’t have this. The family, the warmth, the love.”

Leaning in, he brushed a light kiss against my lips. “You do now. My family is your family.”

I scoffed. “I’m sure they’re thinking you’ve picked a real winner. The girl who freaks out at every family holiday event.”

Setting down his mug on the nightstand, Braxton pulled me into his arms. “Not a single one of us is perfect.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Well, except maybe Jaxon.”

My own laugh was muffled against his chest. Pulling back, I eyed his pajama set. It featured cream flannel pants threaded with red and green plaid, paired with a red henley. 

I plucked at the fabric covering his shoulder. “So, this is what we’re working with?”

Eyes holding mine, his tone was sincere. “You don’t have to wear yours.”

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath. “No, I want to. They made an effort to include me. It’s the least I can do. It’s just pajamas, right?”

But we both knew it was so much more. It was my acceptance that this family was claiming me as one of their own. 

Until last night, I hadn’t realized how much I longed for someone to choose me. I’d spent so many years with a chip on my shoulder, guarded so no one could ever hurt me again. But under that angry girl was a hurt one who just wanted someone to love her without conditions.

Standing, Braxton bent down for a slow kiss, and I could feel how much he cared about me. He might not have said it, probably for fear of another freak-out, but there was no denying the man was in love with me. 

Breaking the connection between our lips, he pressed his forehead  to mine. “Get changed. I’ll see you out there.”

“Uh-huh.” That kiss had stolen my breath away. If I was honest with myself, I was falling headfirst for him, too. It was happening so fast, but I knew we couldn’t stop it. Our hearts were on a collision course, so what did it matter if it happened after two months or twelve? 

The door quietly latched, and I reached for the package containing the matching pajamas. Unwrapping it carefully to avoid making a mess, I lifted the lid of the white box I’d uncovered. Pulling out the garments inside, my eyes widened. This was not the same as the ones Braxton wore. 

First, instead of a long pair of flannel pants, there were shorts in the same fabric. But it was the top that stopped me in my tracks. Instead of a thick thermal henley, my red top was a thinner material and was way too short. Standing, I held it against my chest, revealing it was a crop top. They couldn’t possibly expect me to walk around in front of their children showing so much skin. And that also begged the question, did the other girls have the same set?

Nervously, I changed into the pajamas but grabbed my Comets hoodie, holding it in front of my body like a shield as I poked my nose around the corner of my bedroom and into the kitchen. 

Natalie was perched on the kitchen island, watching Jaxon and the kids flip pancakes. Sure enough, she was dressed in the same set as me. Tossing my sweatshirt behind me into my room, I walked toward the happy family. If Natalie was comfortable enough to wear a crop top after birthing five kids—one barely two months ago—then who was I to act prudish? 

Braxton’s eyes lit up as he scanned me from head to toe. I blushed but continued walking toward where he stood, offering me a mug. 

Eyes darkening like we weren’t in a room with children mere feet away, he whispered, “You look good enough to eat.”

The warm ceramic in my hands wasn’t the only thing heating my blood. Reminded that we weren’t alone, I brought the cup to my lips, even as my eyes remained on Braxton. 

I let out a tiny moan as the sugary concoction flowed over my tongue with the first sip. “Oh God, that’s good.”

“Made it myself.” Braxton shot me a smug look.

I nudged his chest with my shoulder, not wanting to spill a drop of the heaven held in my hands. “Stop it. No, you didn’t.”

Leaning in, he whispered, “Jaxon may have baking on lock in this family, but yours truly holds the top spot as the barista.”

Shocked, I took a tiny step back. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Spinning me so that my back was to his front, Braxton caged me against the island from behind. With his mouth beside my ear, he spoke. “I would happily spend the rest of my life surprising you.” If those words weren’t enough, he kissed the sensitive skin where my neck met my shoulder, and goosebumps broke out across my skin. 

There was no doubt Braxton wanted every piece of me. And I knew he was waiting for me to set the pace. Every day—hell, every minute—saw me moving closer and closer to giving him everything. I wanted him to be my first, and if he had his way, we’d be each other’s last. 

The only question remaining was when.

Before I could ponder that thought much further, Beau noticed us standing there. Jumping in excitement, he screamed, “We can open presents now!”

Realization dawned that they’d been waiting for me. I elbowed Braxton behind me discreetly. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I told Natalie.

Smiling warmly, she waved a hand. “Nonsense. We need the whole family for that.”

My chest tightened, and I tried to fight back the tears for the second time in twelve hours. Nodding, I forced the words out around the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

Empathy shone through her brown gaze, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew some of what I was dealing with. But that didn’t make any sense. This woman had an incredible family—not just the one she’d created by having children with a man who adored her, but one she chose with her closest friends. What could she possibly know about struggling to be accepted into a loving family?

Turning to her son, she tousled his dark mop of hair. “Breakfast first. Then presents.”

Beau whined alongside Charlie, but the older kids ushered them to the giant oak kitchen table. There was such a wide age range between Natalie and Jaxon’s children, which made sense given her two marriages, but it made me wonder about the large gap between Braxton and his brother, seeing as it was only the two of them.

Natalie and Braxton went to the table and sat with the raucous crew. It was chaos as everyone reached to fill their plates simultaneously. I hung back, watching, wondering if this could be my future. 

Did Braxton want a large family? More importantly, did I? 

I hadn’t given it much thought before now, but being an only child was lonely, and in that split second, I decided that if I—or we—had kids, I wanted more than one. I wanted them to have a tight relationship, like I could tell Amelia and Jameson had, being so close in age. I knew that wasn’t a guarantee. Obviously, some siblings hated each other, and the Slate boys’ relationship was far from perfect, but they’d always have each other, no matter what. 

Unsure of how long I spent staring, Jaxon’s voice startled me. “It was hard for her too.”

“What?” My head whipped around in time to see him nod toward his wife, who was busy helping Charlie cut up pancakes. 

“Being part of a family.” He must have seen the skepticism in my eyes because he explained, “Her parents practically forced her into her first marriage. They didn’t care more about her than they did themselves. They sacrificed their only daughter to a man who has now been medically deemed a psychopath.”

I gaped at Braxton’s brother. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Like you, she had an emotional breakdown when she realized unconditional love not only exists but that she could receive it from people who barely knew her. It took her a long time to accept feeling worthy of that love.” Jaxon smiled lovingly at his wife. “But once she did? The transformation was incredible. I’ve loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. Scratch that, from the moment I heard her laughter, not having seen her face. But the woman she’s become being truly loved, that was worth the fight. I can tell my brother feels the same way about you. And if I know him, he will stand by your side patiently until you’re ready to take that leap alongside him.”

Did this kind of wisdom come from age? Becoming a parent? Or possibly from having walked through the same fire? Whatever it was, Jaxon understood not only what I was feeling but how his brother was responding. It was mildly unsettling how easily he read us.

Before I had time to let everything Jaxon said sink in, he added, “I know it’s sudden, but you became family the day Braxton brought you with him to the hospital. He doesn’t date.” He paused. “Well, hasn’t for a long time. The fact that he’s let you in? It speaks volumes. Braxton doesn’t do half-measures. He’s either all in, or he doesn’t bother. I knew my brother was all in with you the day Max was born. But it’s okay if you need more time to realize it. He’s not going anywhere. And neither are we.”

Jaxon looped his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. It was the same way I’d seen him show affection for his teenage daughter, and it felt more parental versus what you might expect of an older sibling. It was as if he could sense my wish that my dad had been more like him. 

These were good people, and they’d chosen me. It would take some getting used to, but I liked the warm and fuzzy feeling swirling in my belly. 

I finally had a family.

The living room was a mess of wrapping paper flung in every direction after the kids were finally let loose to open gifts. Charlie was a hoot, running over to show me every item she discovered hidden beneath cheerful packaging. She was my little buddy, and I loved the bond we were building. 

The chaos eventually slowed, and the bounty beneath the tree dwindled to next to nothing. Only a few packages remained. Braxton shifted, jostling me from where I was curled into his side on the couch. 

“Gotta let me up if you want your gift,” he teased, tickling my side.

I shrieked, squirming to get away from him. Braxton used that as an opportunity to shuffle through the mess to reach the tree. Squatting, he lifted a wide, shallow box. 

Returning to where I sat, he placed the package in my lap, kneeling before me, practically vibrating with excited energy.

I ran my hand through his hair, joking, “Is this a gift for me or for you?”

His face lit up with that smile that warmed my heart. “Both.”

Quirking an eyebrow, I wondered what in the world could be inside. 

Braxton bounced on his knees. “I can see those wheels turning, Firefly. Unless you have X-ray vision, you’ll need to actually open it to find out what’s inside.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I tore the paper along the seam. I couldn’t bite back a smile when the item came into view. It was my very own pair of hockey skates. 

Tracing the line of the skate’s blade pictured on the front of the box, he smirked. “No more rentals for my girl. We’ll get them baked this afternoon, and maybe you will come out on the lake with us before we have to head back to Connecticut.”

My brows rose. “The lake?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you know, that big body of water seen through those windows over there.” Braxton pointed behind me. 

I smacked his finger down. “I know what a lake is and where it’s located. Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Nah. Been doing it my whole life. We know how to spot thin ice and test for thickness. It’s perfectly safe.”

Chewing on my lip, I wasn’t so sure. I was already taking so many risks, and it seemed like tempting fate to add more. 

“We’ll see.” It was neither a yes or a no.

“Braxton, since you’re up, can you grab our gift for Dakota?” Natalie called over from the opposite couch.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything,” I protested.

Natalie simply smiled. “I have a habit of going overboard during the holidays. It gives me joy to see others happy.”

Blushing, I didn’t know how to argue with that. Braxton stood and grabbed a similarly sized and shaped box to the one containing my new skates. 

“Hope you two compared notes. I don’t think I need two pairs of skates.”

Everyone laughed, and Braxton joined me on the couch again. Slipping the paper off, I found a large shoebox. Opening the top revealed a pair of camel-colored, fur-lined boots. The logo on the box indicated that they were name-brand and expensive. 

“Braxton shared your shoe size. I hope that’s okay,” Natalie said. 

Nodding, I let my fingers trail over the soft suede. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Beside me, Braxton teased, “Minnesota winter starter pack. Boots and skates. You’ll be elongating your O’s before too long.”

Laughter bubbled up from my chest. 

“I think that’s everything, then,” Natalie declared. 

I had been so caught up in the chaos that I forgot I’d brought items for the family inviting me to crash their Christmas. Jumping up, I exclaimed, “I have gifts!”

Stepping carefully around the piles of presents, I rushed to my room, finding the brightly wrapped packages stowed in my suitcase. Bundling them in my arms, I returned to where everyone waited expectantly. Checking the tags, I handed them to each family member, including one for Max, which I gave Natalie to open. 

The sound of ripping paper filled the air as they opened my gift of choice—books. There were thrillers for Jaxon and Braxton, a romance for Natalie, an up-and-coming young adult series for Amelia and Jameson to share, chapter books for Beau, picture books for Charlie, and a couple of sensory board books for Max. 

The kids thanked me before running off to play with their new toys. 

Natalie beamed at me from across the room. “Thank you, Dakota. This was so thoughtful. I don’t have this one, but it’s been on my to-be-read list for a while, so it’s perfect!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

It wasn’t one of mine. We were getting closer, but not that close.

I’d chosen a big-name author who was traditionally published since I knew Natalie was an avid romance reader. Even though I was a smaller, independently published author, there was no jealousy for the authors who had already hit it big. Did I want to get there someday myself? Sure. But that didn’t mean I resented those who paved the way. Every author deserved a chance to be successful as there were readers aplenty that we shared amongst us. They were my peers, not my competition.

Braxton pulled me close, and I melted into his side. He pressed his lips to my temple, whispering, “You did good. I declare our first Christmas a success.”

I could always count on Braxton to be steady and sure. He had no idea how much I needed him to be my anchor, but that’s what made it so special. He was solid for me without my having to ask. 

Was this what it was like when you found your person? 

God, I hoped so because he was effectively ruining me for all men, my book boyfriends included. And in that moment, I realized why women sought the happily ever after, greedily devouring it on page day after day. They were chasing the high that came with falling in love.

I finally understood.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 22

Dakota

The house was quiet with just the two of us. Natalie, Jaxon, and the kids had left for Christmas dinner at the elder Slates’ home. Braxton wasn’t interested in seeing his parents after the debacle I’d witnessed in Hartford following Jaxon’s 1000 th game, and neither was I. My instinct was to protect Braxton in the same way he had always protected me, so anyone who was unkind to him was on my shit list, regardless of their relation to the man I was falling for. 

We ordered takeout from the only local place open, ate by candlelight, and were curled up on the couch before a roaring fire, as he’d promised when we landed in Minneapolis. 

I had to admit, he was onto something with the suggestion. Nothing was more comfortable than cuddling with him as the heat of the nearby flames licked our skin. We hadn’t even changed out of our “matching” pajamas. It was a lazy day, but one of the best I’d ever had. 

Honestly, any day spent with Braxton was a great day. Each one better than the last. 

There was only one thing that would make this day more perfect. I was beyond ready to give Braxton the piece of myself I hadn’t known I was saving for him.

Head on his chest, I threw one leg over his, sighing at the physical closeness we shared and how easy it was to simply exist together. 

“Good Christmas?” Braxton’s chest vibrated beneath me at those words. 

Sighing, I smiled, eyes trained on the glow of the Christmas tree in the darkened room. “The best.”

His large palm ran up the length of my back and then back down, settling on the bare patch of skin exposed by my crop top. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same?”

Turning in his arms, I peered up at him. The firelight danced off his features, giving his eyes a golden glow. He was a gorgeous man—we were talking cover model-worthy—but it wasn’t his good looks that stole my breath away. No, it was the way he looked at me. The expression of pure love on his face made me feel cherished. I knew without a doubt that he believed I was his future, and I was done pretending I didn’t want it to be true. Together, we could create the family I’d always wished I had. 

Braxton’s free hand brushed an errant curl from my face, and I leaned into his touch. This was home, being held in his arms. I didn’t need anything more. He was enough. 

It was scary to think I had fallen so helplessly for a man I’d only known a few months, but here I was. I couldn’t deny it any longer. I was in love with Braxton Slate. The stubborn, charming man had gotten under my skin, taking his time working his way into my life, never giving up on me no matter how hard I’d pushed him away. His adorable three-year-old wingman certainly hadn’t hurt his case, either. How could you not love a man as patient and kind as Braxton? It simply didn’t seem possible. And I was done fighting it.

“You’ve given me no reason not to believe you.” I gave him a small smile. 

Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against mine, sparking electricity along my skin. It was tender and slow, but it was the first kiss of our forever—of that, I was sure. 

Needing more, I climbed onto his lap, deepening the kiss, sliding my tongue against his, and swallowing his groans as his cock swelled to life beneath me. Unable to help myself, I rocked against him, chasing the pleasure the friction provided. 

Tearing his mouth away, Braxton dropped his head to my chest, his harsh breathing filling the silent room. “Baby, you gotta slow down.”

I was done playing it slow, playing it safe. I wanted this. No, I needed this.

Running my fingers through his dark hair, I mused, “You know, there’s one more piece of research I need for my book, and only you can help me.”

Lifting his head, Braxton’s brows were furrowed. “You’re thinking about your book right now?”

When I chewed on my lower lip, his eyes fixated on my mouth. Tugging his hair so that he would see that I meant the following words, I waited until his eyes locked on mine before replying, “I don’t know what it’s like to fuck a hockey player.”

Whiskey eyes flared a moment before his lids lowered to half mast, lust filling his gaze. Wrapping both arms around me, he squeezed me tight to his chest. 

“You’re worth the wait. I refuse to rush you.” His voice was husky, bordering on pained. 

“You’re not.” I shoved at his chest until he loosened his hold enough for me to capture his face in my hands. “I get it. You’re being careful with me because I’ve given you every reason to be afraid that I’ll spook and run. But I won’t. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Waiting for you.”

His eyes closed, and my name was said like a prayer, “Dakota.”

“You’re it, Braxton. I finally see it. I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

A shaky breath flew past his lips, and his eyelids raised. The tenderness staring back at me was like a sledgehammer to the chest. Warmth spread from my head to my toes. He was everything I never knew I needed. 

“I would have waited forever for you, Firefly,” he breathed.

“I know.” I caressed his cheeks with my thumbs. “But I’m done waiting. Forever starts today.” Sheepishly, I dropped my eyes. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Fuck,” Braxton cursed. “Of course, it’s okay with me.” The words were said softly, but the punishing kiss that followed was anything but. 

Moaning into his mouth, I slid my hands to his shoulders, anchoring myself against the onslaught of emotions that swirled within me. Forget emotions; my body was on fire, needing to get closer. Hands gripped my ass, and before I knew what was happening, we were moving across the room. 

Braxton carried me into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us. We didn’t make it to the bed. My ass met with the hard wood of the dresser right inside the door as Braxton stood between my open thighs, devouring my mouth as his pelvis ground against mine. My head fell back against the wall, my breathing changing to pants as he kissed a path down my neck, licking the hollow at the base of my throat. 

Murmuring against my skin, his words were breathy. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve pictured this? That small taste in your living room only made me crave you more.”

A whimper escaped my parted lips. Hearing the desperation in Braxton’s voice only spurred me on, and my fingers grasped the hem of my top, wrenching it over my head. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Braxton’s words were genuine as he drank in the sight of my naked chest. 

Needy, I whined, “You gonna look, or are you gonna touch? I need you, Braxton. Don’t make me beg.”

Groaning, he closed the distance between us, palming my breasts with his hands, and I hissed when his thumbs grazed the nipples. “Oh, Firefly. I will give you the world. All you ever have to do is ask.”

“You,” I rasped. “All I want is you.”

Hooded eyes met mine, and a corner of his lips quirked up. “You’ve had me from the first time I laid eyes on you, sweetheart.”

My blood was boiling, causing my head to swim. “I want to touch you. Please,” I begged.

Taking a step back, Braxton ripped his shirt off, and I sighed. God, he was gorgeous. His muscles bunched with each ragged breath he took. My fingers itched to roam over the ridges carved from countless hours in the gym. His chest and abdomen were one thing, but it was the sharp V of his hips that had me tugging my lower lip between my teeth. It was a road map leading to the part of him that would claim me as his. 

Cockiness seeped into Braxton’s husky voice. “For someone who didn’t want to date an athlete, you sure do appreciate the view.”

“Shut up and get over here.”

My clit pulsed painfully behind the fabric of my pajama shorts. I needed a relief only Braxton could supply. 

Stalking closer slowly, he stepped out of reach when I extended my arms. His chuckle grated on my exposed nerves. Lost to lust, I wasn’t in the mood to play games with him tonight. 

“Tell me how badly you need me, baby,” he teased. 

Narrowing my eyes, I hooked both thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. Lifting my ass, I shimmied them down my legs, taking my underwear with them. I kicked them dramatically in his direction, and Braxton caught them with ease before bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Spreading my legs, I let him see the arousal coating my pussy and leaking down my inner thighs. “Why don’t you see for yourself,” I taunted.

Whatever control he had snapped, and Braxton closed the gap between us, notching his concealed erection against my clit as he fisted a hand in hair, tugging my head back to kiss me without restraint. I could barely breathe with the way his tongue dominated my mouth, but the lack of oxygen only made the throbbing need between my legs grow more intense. 

Hands grazed over my skin, and I arched into every touch, demanding more. 

Ripping his lips from mine, Braxton panted in my ear. “I need to be inside you. Now. I can’t wait.”

Oh shit. This is really happening.

Now would be an excellent time to come clean about my inexperience, but I was too far gone, and knowing Braxton, he would more than likely withdraw. If he knew how monumental this moment was for me, he would want to make it “special.” But in my mind, it already was. I had given myself over to this man, body and soul. I didn’t need candles and music, or to be treated like I was made of glass because it was my first time. 

It was better to just grin and bear it. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Yeah, that’s why you can’t even force yourself to use a dildo. But whatever you need to tell yourself.

Braxton slipped his hand between our bodies, groaning when he brushed the wetness seeping from my core. “God, baby, I think you’re ready.”

Glad one of us thinks so.

Hips bucking against his hand, I whined when he withdrew, but he’d only pulled enough to shimmy out of his pajama pants. With how I was spread, he easily rubbed his exposed length through my slit. I was wound so tight; I was pretty sure I could come like this—flesh against flesh—not even needing penetration. 

Might make it easier if you come first.

The angle was just right with my perch on the dresser. His hips were resting a few inches below mine, allowing his upward thrusts to rub against my clit. 

“Right there, just like that,” I rasped.

“You like that?” Braxton’s lips curved against my neck with my head thrown back. He nipped the sensitive skin, and I squealed, causing him to chuckle. Gripping my hips painfully, his voice took on a gravelly quality. “But I have something else I know you’ll like more.”

Okay. You can do this. Don’t forget to breathe. It’ll be over before you know it, and then you won’t be a virgin anymore. 

“Dammit.” The curse drew me from my mental pep talk. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, noting how Braxton’s eyes were trained to where our bodies would soon join. 

“Don’t have a condom.” His forehead dropped to mine, his breath fanning my face. 

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean,” I offered, for once glad my heavy teenage periods had put me on birth control before I became sexually active. 

“There’s been no one since my last checkup. And I’ve never gone bare.” 

“Then we’re fine.”

Braxton’s eyes rose to meet mine. “Are you sure? There’s still a risk.”

I knew what he was asking. Would I be okay if there was an unintended consequence of our coupling? The answer was yes. While it wouldn’t be ideal, I knew Braxton would take care of me, take care of us—if tonight resulted in an us—and not just out of obligation. He’d made it clear time and time again that I was his endgame. It had taken me longer to get there, but I knew now that he was mine. If life threw us a curveball, we would handle it together. 

Nodding, I brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. “You’re worth the risk.”

Gripping the back of my neck, he pulled my mouth to his for a quick, hard kiss. Breaking away, he breathed, “Fuck, Dakota. If I weren’t already in love with you, that would have done it.”

My heart hammered against my ribcage. I already knew he loved me, but this was the first time he’d said it. That made this moment all the more perfect. 

“Show me how much you love me.” 

Lost in a daze, his eyes sharpened, realizing his slip of tongue. But seeing that I wasn’t afraid, wasn’t running, spurred him on and one hand dropped to his cock, guiding it against my core once more, coating it with my arousal before notching at my entrance. 

I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. 

Without another word of warning, Braxton shifted, pulling my hips to the edge of the dresser and slamming inside with a single stroke. 

I’m not fine.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This hurts like a bitch. Why the hell do romance authors lie about a little pinch? I’m on fucking fire!

My internal panic matched my external reaction—a too-loud yelp flying past my tightly pinched lips as my fingernails dug into the flesh of Braxton’s shoulders. 

Blood roared in my ears, and tears leaked from my eyes as I tried to breathe through the pain. Nothing was helping. 

“Dakota?” I could vaguely hear the panic in Braxton’s voice. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t move, too afraid that the slightest shift would cause more agony. 

“Dakota!” Braxton was practically yelling now. Then he stepped out of my arms, breaking the connection between our bodies. 

My eyes were tightly shut, but I heard him breathe out in disbelief, “Holy shit.”

He knows.

It didn’t matter that he was no longer inside me; the burning sensation remained. 

Okay. I’m gonna count to three and then open my eyes. 

One.

Two.

Three.

From across the room, amber eyes begged me—no, they pleaded with me—to tell him it wasn’t true. But that was the one thing I couldn’t do.

Glancing down, I got my first glimpse of Braxton’s dick. While it wasn’t porn star big—though it had felt that way mere moments ago—it wasn’t exactly small either. And right there on it was the unmistakable proof of my innocence. A streak of crimson stained his length. 

“I don’t know what to say.” My voice was whisper-quiet. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I could hear the pain in his voice. He thought I didn’t trust him, but that wasn’t it at all. It took all my trust to let him take my virginity. 

My chest rose and fell with the force of my heavy sigh. “Because I knew you would have convinced me to wait. I’m done waiting. I wanted this. Tonight. With you.”

Braxton ran a hand through his dark hair, and I dreaded the response to my admission. 

“I would rather die than know I hurt you, Dakota. And believe me, if you’d told me, I wouldn’t have taken you so suddenly.” He cursed under his breath. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t have done so on top of a fucking dresser.”

Gripping the edge of the dresser in question, I jumped down, wincing as my feet hit the floor, sending a shockwave up my legs to where I was unfortunately still hurting. Stepping gingerly to where Braxton stood, I looped my arms around his neck. “Then show me how you would have done it. Please.”

He shook his head. “Dakota, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” My temper flared to life, and I took a step back. “It’s not something you can return, Braxton. Whether you finish the job or not, the damage is done.”

“Not making me feel any better with your choice of words.” He groaned, covering his face. 

You know what? I’m done with this hero routine. It’s time to take what I want.

I used his lack of sight to my advantage. Closing the distance between us, I fisted his cock, giving a strong tug. Those brown eyes flew open in shock, and he tried to step back, but I tightened my grasp, keeping him in place. 

“How about that?” I challenged, stroking up and down his shaft. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Dakota . . .” There was a warning in his tone. 

“I gave you a part of me tonight. A piece no one else will ever get. Come on, tell me that doesn’t turn you on. To know that no man will ever own me like you do.” I played to his primal possessive side. It had to be hiding in there somewhere. 

A low rumble sounded from deep within his chest. “Fucking hell,” he muttered seconds before scooping me into his arms and lowering us to the bed. 

Hovering above me, braced on his elbows, Braxton brushed my cheek with his knuckles. “We’re going to do it right this time.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased with a smirk.

Eyes darkening, Braxton nipped at my lower lip hard enough to cause a bite of pain before soothing the area with his tongue. It was a simple move, but my back bowed off the bed, seeking contact with his body. 

His nose teased against mine as he murmured, “Time for me to kiss it better.”

My mind was hazy, and his words didn’t register until he flipped us over. Stunned, I peered down at him, but his face disappeared quickly when large hands gripped my ass and shifted my body over his chest until I was practically seated on his face. 

Awareness dawned and I tried to climb off, but his arms banded around my thighs, locking me in place. “Not so fast, Firefly.”

Chest heaving, I peeked between my thighs to find twin pools of molten gold staring back at me. Oh God, the view of his face half hidden beneath my pussy was dirty as hell, but I couldn’t look away. 

“What are you doing?” Okay, that was a stupid question. I knew precisely his intentions, so why did I need to hear him say it?

Darting his tongue out, he held eye contact as he swirled it around my clit. I was never more thankful for an empty house because the sound that left my mouth was anything but quiet. Braxton had a magic tongue, and I had a feeling he knew it. 

“Before I claim your pussy for good this time, I want it fucking drenched. I want to be drowning in your juices as they pour down my throat.”

“Oh my God.” I threw my head back on a moan. 

I wrote sex for a living, but nothing could have prepared me to have a man talk dirty to me. 

“Now, do me a favor, baby. Grab the headboard, and don’t hold back. Ride my face like the good girl I know you are.”

There wasn’t time to ponder the fact that he’d called me a good girl in the proper context this time because his tongue went to work, licking slowly before flicking quickly, changing pace and keeping me guessing. Tentatively, I rolled my hips, and Braxton hummed against my slick flesh, the vibrations spurring me on. Any thought I might have had about suffocating the poor man vanished as I chased my pleasure. As soon as I had a good rhythm going, Braxton flattened his tongue against my clit, inviting me to use the pressure to get off how I wanted. 

Panting, my body coiled tighter and tighter. “Oh, fuck, Braxton.”

I wasn’t going to last much longer, my body jerking violently atop his face, using my grip on the headboard for leverage. A frustrated whine left my lips, trying to find the right pace and angle to get me off. I was so close but needed something more. 

Braxton sensed my struggle, a hand joining his mouth between my legs. A fingertip teased at my entrance, and I froze, gasping. 

His free hand rubbed up and down my thigh in a soothing gesture, and he pulled his tongue away from my pussy long enough to breathe out, “If anything hurts, we stop. Just relax. One finger. I promise to be gentle.” 

I swallowed, trying to wrap my head around the fact that, at some point tonight, his dick would find its way back inside me. A finger didn’t come close to its girth. I could do this. 

“Do you trust me?” The words were laced with a quiet desperation, a need to know the answer. 

My head nodded automatically. I didn’t need to think about it. “Yes.”

“I’ve got you. Relax.”

His finger was still right there, so I shifted above him in a show of my complete trust. My walls gripped the digit as it slid inside up to the knuckle, and I couldn’t take it any deeper. A relieved sigh that it didn’t hurt flew past my lips, although the fit was tight. 

“That’s my girl,” Braxton praised. “Just like that. You’ve got this, and I’ve got you.”

Lips pressed a soft kiss against my clit, and my hips bucked. The finger inside me shifted, slipping in and out slowly, gently, as promised. Braxton’s teasing tongue was back, swirling and nibbling, sending me closer to the edge. I was gripping the headboard so hard that my knuckles turned white. 

But what sent me over the top was when he curled that finger, massaging a secret spot deep inside me. Stars burst behind my eyes, and I screamed as my body chased the onslaught of pleasure, grinding on Braxton’s face. Wave after wave rolled over me, and I wasn’t sure it would ever stop. I didn’t want it to stop. 

“Give me more, baby,” he rasped before he pulled my clit between his teeth and tugged hard. 

An animalistic sound split the air. I couldn’t control it as a second orgasm barreled into me, and I swore my soul left my body. It was as if I was hovering from above, watching the scene in slow motion as Braxton pleasured me. We looked so fucking hot together that I wondered if I would ever be able to watch porn again. Honestly, I didn’t need to. Reliving this night over and over in my mind would be enough inspiration to last me a lifetime. But I had a feeling Braxton would provide me with new material a thousand times over.

Trembling, I dropped my forehead to the wood in front of my face. My lungs burned as I sucked in ragged breaths, and there was a static sound in my ears. 

Hands slipped up my hips to grab me around the waist, and I jumped. My mind was fuzzy in my lust-induced haze, and for half a second, I forgot where I was. 

Surrendering to Braxton’s hold, my body went limp as he dragged it down his torso until my head was tucked beneath his chin. “You were fucking perfect.”

My limbs were heavy, but I managed to graze my hand against his hard length, pressing insistently against my thigh. 

Braxton sucked in a sharp breath. “Baby, tonight is for you. Honestly, I’m fine if you let me hold you the rest of the night. I don’t need anything more.”

That was the shot of adrenaline I needed to wake up. He was not off the hook. The night didn’t end until I was coming around his cock. And yes, I knew that penetration orgasms weren’t a guarantee and most women couldn’t obtain them, but Braxton wouldn’t allow himself to come before me. He’d proven that time and time again. I was confident if he could find that spot inside of me—that he’d pressed with his finger—with his dick, it wouldn’t be a problem. The only remaining uncertainty would be whether I could relax enough to enjoy it.

Pushing off his chest, I knelt beside his prone form. “I want all of you,” I declared. 

Raking a hand down his face, Braxton groaned. “And you have all of me. Sex doesn’t change that.”

He was a white knight. I knew that, despite his cocky façade when we first met. Braxton was proving why I hadn’t told him I was a virgin. He was trying to protect me, so it would take a bold move to push him past the breaking point. 

That’s when I noticed the slickness smeared across his chest and abdomen. It was a trail left behind from when he’d lowered me against his body. He wanted me drenched, and he’d made it happen. 

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

My tongue peeked out to wet my lower lip. Braxton tracked the move with his eyes, and I held his gaze as I lowered my lips to his chest, licking a path through the lingering proof of my arousal. 

A shudder rolled through Braxton, and his breathing halted for a second. “Jesus, Dakota. You’re going to be the death of me.”

Defiant, I demanded, “Give me what I want.”

See? I can be one of those badass female main characters, too. 

“Because if you don’t, I’ll keep licking myself off you. And when I’m done with that, my mouth might wander other places . . .” I gripped his dick for emphasis. 

His hips surged into my hand. In this position, I felt powerful and in control. 

Before now, I’d never understood why women willingly gave blowjobs. Frankly, it had always sounded terrible to me—the gagging part in particular. But I was quickly learning the appeal lay in bringing a man to his knees, forcing him to lose control, being the cause. I could get on board with that.

Braxton saw my hungry gaze and flipped us, his lips brushing against my ear. “Don’t even think about it.”

Whining in protest, I still had my hand locked around him. Stroking from root to tip, it was a silent warning that I would take charge if he didn’t proceed as planned. 

I wasn’t expecting his larger hand to cover mine as he showed me how he liked to be touched. “Use pressure at the base, then twist your wrist as you move to the head,” he instructed. His lips brushed against my neck when I did exactly as he said. “Fuck, yes. Just like that, Firefly.”

“I need you, Braxton,” I whispered. 

“I know, baby.”

Turning on his side, he allowed me to continue stroking him as his fingers trailed over my bare skin. The combination of his occasional throaty groans and the reverent graze of rough palms caressing my breasts had me shifting restlessly, seeking relief. Again. I almost couldn’t imagine penetrative sex being better than anything we’d done so far. But I guess that was my inexperience talking. 

Sex was the pinnacle. The thing men got down on their knees and begged for. The thing women did unthinkable things like waxing their pubic hair for. Sure, for many, it was about feeling good. But I was searching for a connection, the merging of souls. I knew that’s what I would find with Braxton. 

So caught up with the sensations flooding my senses, I barely noticed Braxton’s hand slipping between my thighs. This time, I wasn’t scared or nervous. Biting back a whimper when the rough pad of a fingertip lightly circled my clit, my hips lifted, allowing him to sink inside. 

“You feel like heaven,” Braxon rasped in my ear. “I’m gonna get you warmed up, and then I’m going to stake my claim. I’ll be your first and your last. I promise you that.”

Looping my free arm around his neck, I pulled his mouth to mine, letting his tongue stroke inside my mouth the same way his finger pulsed inside my pussy. A second finger joined the first, and I jolted in surprise at the stretch, but it wasn’t painful, so I relaxed into the pressure as it built with each thrust. Braxton’s palm pressed against my clit as his fingers worked my tight passage. 

My hand fell away from his cock as the first tremors of an orgasm built between my thighs. Toes curling, every muscle pulled taut moments before I exploded, gasping as it stole the breath from my lungs. 

Braxton worked me down slowly, but I was a live wire—every nerve ending felt exposed. The tiniest brush of his lips on my skin had me squealing breathlessly. I wasn’t sure I could take any more, but determination won out. I hadn’t come this far to give up now.

“More. Please.” I couldn’t control my heart rate. I was pretty sure any more pleasure would cause me to pass out. 

“Tenacious little thing, aren’t you?” he teased.

My head thrashed from side to side. “Fuck me, Braxton.”

Eyes closed, I could hear the smile in his voice. “Sure you don’t want another pre-game orgasm first?”

I whimpered. He was lucky I couldn’t feel my legs right now, otherwise I would mount him and take what I wanted. 

“You look so pretty, flushed and needy,” Braxton mused, and I forced my eyes open to find him gazing adoringly at me. The same way his brother looked at his wife—like she was his reason for living. 

A rush of warmth spread over me. This was love. 

“Make love to me. Please,” I begged. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I think you’re finally ready.”

Shifting back into position above me, he used a knee to part my thighs and settled his hips between them. Cradling my face, he pressed his forehead to mine. Against my lips, he whispered, “We’re going to take this nice and slow. Kiss me through it, and if anything hurts, tap my shoulder three times and I’ll stop. You come first, no matter what. Understood?”

I managed a nod and felt the tip of him press just inside as his lips descended, tongue sliding into my mouth. Braxton’s soft murmurs against my lips between kisses kept me relaxed, and I accepted more of him. He wasn’t kidding about going slowly. Time stood still, like the universe knew this was a monumental moment in our lives. He wasn’t just taking my virginity; he was claiming me for all time. I was his and he was mine, from this day forward.

Braxton finally bottomed out, groaning at our connection. Could he feel it, too? This charged electricity in the room now that our bodies were joined?

Pulling his lips from mine, whiskey pools of desire scanned my face, likely searching for any signs of discomfort. I mentally berated myself for not confiding in him. While he’d proven that he would have put a stop to us having sex tonight, there was something to be said about the way he took his time in preparing me, making sure that it wouldn’t be painful. It was much better this time around. There was a stretching sensation, a feeling of fullness, but other than that, I was fine. 

“You okay?” Braxton’s voice was gruff.

Toying with a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead, I purred, “I’m perfect.”

A corner of his lips quirked up. “That you are, Firefly. Perfect for me.”

Growing restless, I tried moving my hips, and Braxton dropped his head to my shoulder. Breath hot in my ear, he panted, “I’m about ready to explode, baby. Not sure how long this will last.”

Emboldened at the notion that I could be the source of his unraveling, I slid my hands beneath his shoulders, skimming over the bunched muscles of his back until I reached his tightly toned ass. Hockey players might wear a lot of bulky gear, not allowing their physique to be showcased while they played, but damn if they weren’t ripped. Especially their lower half—those legs had to power them across the ice, and I bit back a moan thinking of how this man, in particular, carved it up with his smooth strides. 

Digging my fingers in, I pulled him deeper into our connection as I arched against him. 

“Holy shit,” Braxton breathed out. “I wasn’t living until right now. Like I’ve been waiting for this moment to wake up and breathe.”

Urging him on with my grasp, I replied, “Take me to the stars, baby. The way only you can.”

That was all it took to get Braxton to move on his own. Easing his hips back, his length slid against me, dragging along my most sensitive parts before he snapped them, his glutes tensing with the effort to drive back inside. Repeating the process, his thrusts were slow and measured. I could tell he was still mindful of this being my first time and was trying his best to be careful. But I needed more. 

“Faster,” I pleaded on a moan.

A strangled noise rolled up Braxton’s throat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m fine. I need more. Make me feel good.”

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. 

Pushing up on his arms, he widened his knees, forcing my thighs further apart. The next snap of his hips was more brutal, and I threw my head back against the rush of pleasure it provided. 

“Yes.” The word came out on a hiss.

One hand moving to steady my hips, he pounded into me, each thrust more powerful than the last, coming closer and closer together. I bit my lip to try and stifle my rising moans as I inched closer to the peak, torn between wanting to chase my orgasm or trying to stave it off to make this feeling last forever. 

“No.” Braxton’s sharp tone had my eyes snapping open. 

I nearly came from the sight of him above me. Every tight muscle was sharply defined on his torso. The tendons stood out on his neck with the way his jaw was clenched, teeth gritted. 

But most notably, he’d stopped moving. I whined, shifting my hips, trying to regain any semblance of friction to ease the ache. “Don’t stop.”

I would be the first to say I rolled my eyes when an author wrote about a man growling. Like, who does that? But that man fucking growled. 

“I want to hear my name on your lips when you come around my cock. None of this biting-your-lip bullshit, trying to be quiet. I want to hear every moan, sigh, and scream. I’ve earned every single one of your sounds. They belong to me.”

Uhhhhh . . . 

What do I say? How do I respond to that?

Who is this man, and what has he done with sweet Braxton, who was too nice to take my virginity?

Can I keep this man for the bedroom? He’s so fucking hot.

Think, Dakota. SAY SOMETHING!

Something happened—and to this day, I still didn’t know what—but it was as if someone else possessed my body and controlled the next words that came out of my mouth. 

“Make me.”

Braxton’s mouth dropped open for a split second before a devilish grin crept onto his lips. “Not so innocent now, are we?”

Rising on his knees, he pulled my hips off the bed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh so tightly that I knew there would be bruises there tomorrow. I didn’t care. I desperately wanted him to fuck me. Hard and fast so I could give him the vocal fireworks he wanted. 

Holding me immobile, he thrust home repeatedly, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hold back the screams. This new angle hit that perfect spot he’d found with his fingers when I rode his face while simultaneously dragging his pelvis against my clit with each pass. It was exquisite torture, and I couldn’t stop the freight train of an orgasm that slammed into me. 

My body seized with his name on my lips as Braxton continued his relentless rhythm, grunting, “So. Goddamn. Beautiful. All. Fucking. Mine.”

A split second later, he released his grasp on my hips, dropping down to bury his face against my neck as he roared out his release as his hips pulsed, and he emptied himself deep inside me. I could feel the warmth seeping out around his cock. 

Shifting enough that he wasn’t crushing me, Braxton’s erratic breathing mixed with mine—deafening in the silence after the sounds of our combined climax. 

“As soon as I can feel my legs again, I’ll carry you to the bathroom and clean you up,” he vowed. 

Slipping my hands through the damp, inky strands of his hair, I whispered, “Take all the time you need. I’m just fine here, held in your arms.”

I did a little happy dance on the inside; the night I gave myself to Braxton had been perfect. 

I couldn’t have written it any better.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 23

Dakota

The last thing I remember after Braxton carried me to the bathroom—explaining how and why it was vital for me to pee after sex—was passing out in his arms, wrapped in the warmth and safety he provided. 

Stretching in bed, a smile curved on my lips before I opened my eyes. I still could not believe how Braxton turned on a dime in the middle of sex. I would have never guessed it, but I wasn’t complaining. Bristol would die when I recounted exactly what he’d said to me. Just thinking about it had me clenching my thighs. 

“I want to hear my name on your lips when you come around my cock. None of this biting-your-lip bullshit, trying to be quiet. I want to hear every moan, sigh, and scream. I’ve earned every single one of your sounds. They belong to me.”

Turning on my side, I shifted, trying to snuggle closer to Braxton. My smile turned into a frown when my eyes opened to find he was gone. What time was it? Where had he gone?

I sat up and plucked my phone from the nightstand. The display screen read: 10:30 AM. Whoa. I guess losing your virginity really took it out of a girl. Or perhaps it was the total of four orgasms. That could’ve done it, too. 

No wonder he wasn’t still in bed. 

Slinking to the bathroom, I freshened up and threw on loungewear, unsure of our plans for the day. I could always change later. 

Cracking my door open barely an inch, I peeked into the kitchen, only to find it empty and quiet. In a house with this many people—more than half of them children—I expected to be met with a bustle of activity, especially at this late hour. Curious. 

With each step I took, moving into the kitchen, I could feel Braxton between my thighs. It was a pleasant soreness, a reminder of the intimate moment we’d shared. I wondered if the morning after always felt like this or if it was just the stretch of the first time that did it. Either way, I was walking on air. Nothing could bring me down. 

I selected a coffee pod and began making myself a cup. Even though I’d slept in, caffeine was needed this morning. As I was bringing the mug to my lips, Natalie entered the kitchen, smiling when she spotted me. 

“Good morning,” she chirped.

“It is,” I agreed, hiding my smile behind my coffee mug and taking a sip. 

She leaned her hip against the kitchen island. “You two have a good evening?” Natalie chuckled. “Don’t answer that. You were probably glad for the peace and quiet of an empty house. There aren’t as many places to hide here as there are in our place in Connecticut.”

“Your kids are precious, Natalie. I’m sure I can speak for both of us when I say they’re never a bother.”

“Braxton is amazing with kids.” She smirked. “But then again, so is Jaxon. Must be in their DNA.”

I knew what she was hinting at. 

More than once since we’d met, Natalie had implied that she and Braxton were super close. If I had to guess, he’d probably confided in her about his plans for the future, which included me and a potential family. She wouldn’t get an argument from me that Braxton would make as incredible a father as his older brother. Still, I wasn’t going to say anything to her about our future family before I discussed those ideas with my boyfriend. We had plenty of time. There was no rush. We were both in our early twenties.

“Speaking of an empty house.” I gestured around. “Where is everyone?”

“Ah.” Natalie tilted her head. “They’re out on the lake. Jaxon has been begging me to let him install an outdoor rink on our property back home. He raves about skating in the open air, saying it reminds him of his childhood and how he wants that for our kids. I tried to tell him it’s not always cold enough to maintain it, but then he started talking about a permanent setup with a chiller and being able to convert it into a roller rink in the summer, and I threw my hands up. I give it another year or two before he has one installed. The man lives for those kids.” A soft smile graced her lips.

I could just picture the Slate men out there, acting like kids themselves. It was sweet that they could share their love for the game with the next generation in a more relaxed environment. 

“Do any of your kids play?” I asked Natalie. 

Light laughter bubbled up from her chest. “They can all skate, as you can imagine, especially having taken Charlie to the rink. Thank you again for that. It was really special for her to get that one-on-one time she so desperately needs with a new baby in the house.”

I waved her off. “It was no problem. She’s a little firecracker.”

“That, she is.” Natalie huffed out a sigh that was a mixture of exasperation and love. “Amelia and Jameson skate well enough for family functions at the rink and, of course, to go out on the lake, which is a rare treat since we don’t often make it out here in the winter. But Beau . . . Oh, that boy has been Jaxon’s shadow from day one. I don’t think we could have kept him off the ice if we tried. He and Knox—Benji and Liv’s boy—play for the same youth team back in Hartford. If those two boys had it their way, they’d be legacy players for the Comets. Their dads are not just their personal heroes but their hockey heroes too.”

My heart twisted inside my chest. It was a beautiful picture Natalie painted of paternal love, but one I hadn’t seen in action until now. It wasn’t just that my own dad was nothing to write home about, but that Braxton’s had no issue mistreating him in public. I knew Braxton would move heaven and earth to be the kind of father Jaxon was to his kids. That thought helped dull the pain to an ache. 

We would do better for our family—no matter when that was.

Was it weird that I’d accepted the eventuality of a life with Braxton? It wasn’t a question of “if” anymore, but “when.” And after last night, I couldn’t imagine letting anyone else get that close to me. It took an insane amount of trust, which I didn’t give freely. That man held my heart—my life—in his hands. 

The stomping of boots startled me, and I jolted enough to have coffee sloshing over the side of my mug and onto the floor. Muttering to myself about being clumsy, I snatched paper towels to clean the mess as the Slate crew strode noisily into the kitchen, each sporting rosy cheeks. 

“Guess it’s time for an early lunch break to warm up before they head back out.” Natalie winked, catching my eye.

Feeling the need to be helpful, I offered, “I can help.”

“I think the day calls for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.” She moved past me into the large pantry before returning with large cans of condensed soup. 

Jaxon plopped Charlie onto the island, and that’s when I realized we were missing someone. 

“Where’s Braxton?” I asked. 

Eyes shifting to his wife before returning to meet my gaze, he replied, “He said he might be in later.”

My heart sank, and nausea churned in my gut. 

I’d brushed off waking up alone due to the time. Then, when Natalie told me they all went skating, I would never have expected him to just sit around, waiting until I woke. But now? He actively chose not to come inside with the rest of the crew. He was avoiding me.

I’d thought what we shared last night was special. It had certainly felt that way to me. But what did I know? I’d never had sex before. Maybe the endorphins messed with my head, making me think it meant more than simply chasing a high. Or perhaps he was still upset I hadn’t told him I was a virgin. Now that I thought back on it, I’d been the one pushing after he wanted to slow things down. More than once. And now he couldn’t bear to face me.

Then, my mind went to the absolute worst-case scenario—that now that we’d slept together, I no longer provided a challenge. That all of this had been an act, a game, to get into my pants. That Braxton was cut from the same cloth as my father and Levi but had hidden it better. 

If last night had felt like a magical dream, this morning was a nightmare. 

“You should go out and join him.” Natalie’s soft voice spoke to my right. 

Great. These people had already seen me fall apart in front of them once this weekend. I couldn’t let it happen again. I was a big girl who’d made a conscious choice to sleep with Braxton. I couldn’t control his actions after the fact, only my own. 

Schooling my features, I shook my head, grabbing a pan to heat the soup. “No, I think I’ll stay in today. I’m behind on my writing. Might as well take advantage while everyone is out.”

Yeah, that’s just what you need. In the frame of mind you’re in, you’ll likely end up writing some bullshit third-act breakup, and your readers will hate you for it.

Thankfully, Natalie didn’t press the subject, working alongside me, making no less than a dozen grilled cheeses that the kids scarfed down before bundling up and heading back outside. 

As I was settling onto the couch with my computer perched on my lap, ready to let my feelings flow through my fingertip—confident that I’d end up deleting most of it anyway—Natalie came to stand before me. 

Peering up, I could tell by how she twisted her hands that she was trying to decide whether to intervene now that the kids and Jaxon were gone. Her brown eyes were warm and full of compassion, but she must have decided against whatever case she intended to make as an excuse for Braxton. Smart lady. I wasn’t in the mood and didn’t want to come off like a bitch to his sister-in-law. 

Instead, she asked, “Would you mind keeping an eye on Max for a bit so I can watch the kids outside? He’s all fed and changed, and down for a nap. You won’t have to do much other than ensure the house doesn’t burn down.” That got a small smile out of me, so she continued, “I’ll leave a monitor for you, and if he fusses before I’m back, just place a hand on his belly and rub, and he’ll likely conk back out. I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“I’d be happy to,” I cut her off. Honestly, I was glad for a chance to be alone until I sorted out the doubts swirling in my mind. “Go enjoy your children while they’re young.”

“Flies by faster every year,” she mused with a faraway smile, gazing out the window to where her family must be, off in the distance. I’d tried looking out there earlier but could barely make them out. 

Natalie left me to bundle up and head outside. For a while, I sat there and stared at my blank computer screen. As much as I wanted to expel the toxic thoughts from my mind, I’d read one too many storylines about deleted files finding their way to someone and ruining a relationship. Once I finished having my pity party, I would talk to Braxton. That was the only way I could know what he was thinking and why he was keeping his distance after we’d shared such an intimate experience. 

So, I closed my laptop and laid down on the couch, my eyes trained on the video monitor and baby Max’s steady breathing. Surprisingly, I found comfort in his innocence. His whole life was ahead of him, and I began creating stories in my mind about what that life might possibly be like. Anything was better than thinking about my own life. Even if only for a little while.

Max stirred only once while Natalie was gone, and her instructions to rub his belly worked like a charm. He was a beautiful baby, but I was still a little nervous about picking him up, so I was thankful when he went right back to sleep. 

Ditching my plans to write while the house was silent, I picked up my e-reader, torturing myself by digging into miscommunication scenes I’d marked in various books. It was a reminder that I needed to talk to Braxton. I didn’t want to see us fall into the same trap as fictional characters who let their emotions win out over common sense and maturity. I was smarter than that. I knew what needed to be done. The only problem was working up the courage to actually do it. 

There was a light knock on the door, and I jumped up, rushing to answer for fear that whoever was there would knock loud enough to wake Max again. Twisting the deadbolt, I threw open the door. On the other side stood a woman I recognized from the video at Jaxon’s milestone game. 

Braxton’s mom was here. Could this day get any worse?

“Can I help you?” I was trying and failing to keep the disdain from my voice for the woman who had stood idly by as her husband verbally abused their son. 

Flashing me with the same warm, crooked smile both her sons possessed, she replied, “We haven’t formally met. I’m Shannon Slate.”

“I know who you are.”

The bite of my tone and skipping of pleasantries had her smile slipping slightly. “Oh. Of course. I just stopped by to see if Natalie wanted help with Max this afternoon. With such a beautiful day, I assumed the kids would want to spend their time on the lake.”

Crossing both arms over my chest, I kept her on the other side of the threshold, biting back a retort about what happened when you assumed. 

Yeah, I was being petty. But I didn’t care. 

“You assumed correctly. But I’ve got Max handled. Natalie went out with the crew a while ago.”

“I see.” Shannon nodded her head slowly. “Do you mind if I come in? I’d love to see my grandchildren when they return. Living so far away, we don’t get to see them as often as we’d like. This Christmas has been an absolute dream, having them home.”

She thought she could win me over with the loving grandma routine, but it wouldn’t erase the damage to the man I loved. It was my gratitude to Natalie and Jaxon for hosting me this weekend that had me stepping to the side and allowing Shannon entry. 

I let her remove her shoes and coat. But she didn’t make it two steps further into the house before I said to her back, “I don’t like the way your husband treats Braxton.”

Shannon’s shoulders rose and fell with the force of her heavy sigh. Turning to face me, sad whiskey eyes met mine. “I don’t blame you. Neither do I.”

My temper flared, and I shouted, “Then how could you let it happen? You just stood there! Seeing a wrong and doing nothing to right it makes you complicit. Do you have any idea what that did to Braxton?”

“Staying away for Christmas made his feeling pretty clear.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “You think it’s that simple? That he doesn’t feel the weight of disappointment from his own father pressing down on him so hard it threatens to crush him? And not only that night, but his whole life? Skipping Christmas was a small act of defiance, and if I weren’t here, I know he would have been there. He is selfless, putting everyone else before himself. I was the one who refused to go. I have no interest in being in the same room, let alone the home, of someone who could treat their child so poorly.”

Dropping her head, Shannon breathed out, “He wasn’t always this way.”

My brows rose. “Braxton?”

“No, Michael.” Walking away from me, she sat on the couch, patting the seat beside her. “Please let me explain.”

In my mind, there wasn’t anything she could say that would justify her husband’s actions. But curiosity won out, and I joined her.

Shannon gave me a small smile. “Michael was gentle and kind, like my boys. I have to believe they have the best parts of him, even if they’re not often visible anymore.”

I scoffed, finding that hard to believe. The man I saw tear his son to shreds was nothing like Braxton or Jaxon. 

“I know. It doesn’t sound believable, but it’s true.” She sighed. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the age gap between my boys.” When I nodded, she continued, “Jaxon was a surprise. We’d been engaged for over a year, but two months before the wedding, we found out we were expecting. That little boy lit up our world. When he turned two, we decided to try for another. It didn’t take long before I was pregnant again.”

My heart sank to my stomach. I could only imagine where this story was headed. 

“A few weeks later, I woke up in a pool of blood. Michael was incredible; he never left my side, whispering promises that we would try again. And we did.” Shannon paused. “We lost a total of six.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. This woman had been through the unimaginable six times over and was still standing? I wasn’t a mother but couldn’t help imagining myself in her shoes. Once would have been enough to shatter me, I was sure, let alone six. 

“I named them all,” Shannon said softly. “And I know when my time on this Earth has passed, each one of them will be waiting for me at the gates of Heaven. There’s a comfort in that.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. Losing a parent would never compare to the loss of a child.

“You’ve met my boys. They’re natural-born family men, even Braxton, who isn’t a father yet. Could you imagine either one of them suffering the unimaginable pain that comes with the loss of a child? Before you’ve even had a chance to hold them in your arms and tell them you love them with every fiber of your being? It would destroy them.”

My vision blurred at the thought of Braxton. The course of his life had changed before he was even born.

“With each loss, Michael’s mental health took another blow. Grief hits people in different ways. He kept his devastation buried deep, but he blamed himself. While he himself was hurting, he couldn’t bear to see me suffering. After the sixth, he broke. He couldn’t take it anymore. Begged me to be happy with Jaxon, whose hockey success, even at seven, was taking up much of our focus.” She huffed out a laugh. “Even threatened to get a vasectomy because he just couldn’t do it again. I begged him for one more. If it didn’t pan out, we would stop and maybe consider adoption. There was something deep in my soul that knew a piece was missing from our family.”

“Braxton,” I whispered his name.

“That’s right,” Shannon confirmed. “That next one was Braxton. He was the rainbow after the worst storm I’d ever endured. You have no idea how much joy it gives me to see this house filled with children. It was the dream I always had for myself.”

While my heart broke for all this woman had been through, I didn’t understand how it had influenced Michael’s current behavior and mistreatment of Braxton. 

Almost as if she could read my mind, Shannon explained, “Braxton was the one that stuck, and it was as if Michael poured all his hopes and dreams for every baby we’d lost into that one little boy.”

I wasn’t going to let this woman get away with justifying her husband’s abuse because of a heart-wrenching story of loss.

“That doesn’t excuse his actions. If anything, he should have showered him with love, cherishing the miracle that he was.” The passion in my voice didn’t escape Shannon’s notice, and her eyes widened slightly. 

“It doesn’t,” she agreed. “He was such a sweet little boy. He wanted to please his daddy so much.” Shannon’s whiskey eyes dropped to the floor. “At some point, he realized it was an impossible task, but he kept trying. The scene you witnessed in Hartford was the first time he ever fought back. The only thing that was different that night was your presence. I have to believe you’ve given him that strength. And while you might not be my biggest fan, you’re good for my son. I can tell that you care deeply about him.”

Fuck. I would not cry in front of this woman. 

Standing suddenly, I said, “Your son deserves better from you, not only from his father. Do better. You’re welcome to stay, but I don’t think we have anything more to say.”

Shannon nodded in understanding. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll keep an eye on Max.”

“Great.”

I turned on my heel and closed myself in my room. Collapsing on the bed, I let the tears flow freely, letting Braxton’s pain become mine. 

What a pair of broken misfits we were.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 24

Braxton

I was a coward. Every move I’d made since I opened my eyes that morning proved it. 

Dakota was somehow even more beautiful as I’d watched her sleep, with her face relaxed and one cheek pinkened from where it had been pressed against a pillow. I was unable to stop the swell of emotions that rose in my chest. Unfortunately, guilt edged out love, and I couldn’t forget the sights and sounds of her in pain as I’d unknowingly taken her virginity. 

I felt like a complete ass. I should have known. 

Somehow, catching her watching porn and writing rough sex scenes had blinded me to the signs right in front of my face. She was careful about who she let into her life. She’d mentioned that she preferred reading to dating. And I could remember how she tensed when I went to finger her the first time I ate her out. 

After talking a big game about waiting, I’d shoved my dick in her hard without thinking. I could never erase that first experience for her. 

God, I wished I could. 

What I wouldn’t give to go back and change the circumstances of last night. Not Dakota’s inexperience, but how I’d handled myself. I treated her no better than I would a random bar hookup instead of the woman I loved and cherished.

Slipping out of bed, I threw on my clothes and crept into the darkened kitchen. Lost in our own little world, I had no idea when Natalie and Jaxon had returned the night before, but it was clear everyone was in bed. A glance at the clock on the stove told me it was 4 AM. The little gremlins would be up sooner rather than later, but I had to get out of there. I couldn’t face Dakota after what I’d done.

Changing into warm clothes, I snagged my skates and crunched through the snow until I reached the edge of the frozen lake. The sun wouldn’t be up for a few more hours, but I needed the frosty air to shock my lungs. Maybe a hard skate would clear my head, and I could face the woman I’d hurt last night. 

I wasn’t so sure, but I had to try.

I skipped lunch. Not because I wasn’t hungry, but because I knew I’d have to stare into those brilliant blue eyes filled with hurt that she had woken up alone. 

Jaxon and the kids joined me on the lake by 9 AM, dragging a net with them. We played a few games, providing the perfect distraction I needed, but after a while, the kids began grumbling about being cold and hungry, so Jaxon took them inside. I waved him off when he asked if I was coming along. His face held a curious expression, but he didn’t question my choice. 

When they returned, there was a question in his eyes, along with a hint of disappointment. 

Fuck. It was probably worse than I imagined. 

When Natalie joined us, I decided to suck it up and go inside. The only silver lining was that there wouldn’t be an audience for whatever I was walking into.

Skating to the lake's edge, I sat on the snowy embankment, removing my skates and slipping on the boots I’d left by the fire pit along the shoreline. As I neared the house, my steps slowed, but I powered past my mental block and forced myself through the back door. 

Dropping my gear in the mudroom, I searched for Dakota. When I didn’t find her in her room, the kitchen, or the living room, my chest tightened, and my pulse kicked. Had she left? Hightailed it back to Hartford because I couldn’t man up and face what I’d done? 

God, why was I so bad at this?

Then, I heard her soft voice and every muscle relaxed at once. But I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. 

Willing my racing heart to settle so I could hear better, I stalked through the room, closer and closer to where the voice spoke in hushed tones. The baby monitor on the coffee table was where my search led me. Picking it up, I dropped onto the couch, staring at the woman I loved with her hand splayed across Max’s chest in his bassinet. 

It was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. Her soft smile as she stared at the sleepy baby stole my breath away. It was a glimpse into the future—a future I so desperately wanted. And not with just anyone, with her. Only her. 

I was about to go up to the master suite when I made out what she was saying to Max. “You’re a lucky little guy, so surrounded by love.” My heart squeezed, knowing how desperately Dakota wished she had a family who cared about her. I was determined to give that to her. “Your dad seems like a standup guy.” She let out a heavy breath. “But your uncle? He’s more complex. Just when I think I have him figured out, he flips the script.”

Any hope rising in my chest died at her words. She thought Jaxon was better than me, just like everyone else. 

And maybe she was right. Jaxon would have never left her alone the morning after taking her virginity. Jaxon would have never hurt her the way I did, both physically and emotionally. Self-doubt and insecurities didn’t paralyze Jaxon, threatening to ruin any chance at happiness he might find. 

Once again, I’d tried and failed to measure up.

Story of my fucking life. 

Stars sparkled overhead on a cloudless night as a full moon reflected off the snow covering every surface, illuminating the lake. The sky was black, but the world around me wasn’t dark. The illusion of snow glowing was eerie for some, but I loved nights like tonight. Or at least, I used to. 

Now, all I could see as I stared out at the black lake before me as a fire crackled at my feet was Dakota—her pain, her disappointment, her sadness. All because of me. 

Just when I finally had something good in my life, I’d gone and fucked it all up. 

“Cold night.” My brother’s voice spoke from behind me. “Thought you could use a drink.”

Jaxon stepped up to the table resting between the Adirondack chairs, and placed down two glasses and a bottle of liquor that sparkled amber in the firelight. He poured a healthy amount for each of us and dropped into the other chair.

Taking a sip, I winced as the scotch burned a path down my throat. This was good. Maybe it would help numb my mind enough to forget the all-consuming anguish of the past twenty-four hours. 

“You’ve been out here all day. Wanna talk about it?” Jaxon asked, eyes trained on the lake.  

Staring up at the stars, I breathed out, “I think I fucked up.”

“With Dakota?” When I nodded, he said, “Whatever it is, you’re hurting her more by staying away. Trust me. Relationships are hard, even the good ones. They take work. Every. Single. Day. There are no days off—days when you can just disappear and think issues will resolve on their own. It’s not always fun hashing out problems or eating crow when you realize you were wrong, but it’s necessary. That is, if you want something long-term with this girl. If you don’t, then you probably shouldn’t have brought her home, letting the kids and Natalie get attached.”

I scoffed. “Of course, I want long-term with her. She’s the one.”

“Then you need to get over yourself and get in that house. Figure it out.”

He was right. But I needed to get it off my chest first. 

“Last night, when you were at Mom and Dad’s, we took our relationship to the next level.” When Jaxon only stared at me, I clarified, “Physically.”

“Yeah, I got that part.” He chuckled. “Just trying to figure out what you did wrong that had you hiding outside in the Minnesota chill all day.” Jaxon’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Are you worried you can’t live up to the book boyfriends she writes?”

“Book boyfriends?”

“You know . . . the male main characters. The hero. Usually over six feet tall, jacked, has a massive cock, and knows how to make a woman orgasm simply by looking at them,” he explained. 

“Uhhhh.” I couldn’t help but gawk at the words coming out of my brother’s mouth. 

“I get it.” He nodded. “But what some might view as unrealistic standards created for men by women can be used to your advantage. Think of them as instruction manuals.” Jaxon snapped his fingers. “Or inspiration! Ask her if there’s a scene she wants to re-enact. Should fix it.”

I waved my hand in a circular motion in front of his face. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say any of that, okay?”

He shrugged. “I’m only trying to help.”

“That much is clear,” I muttered. “Trust me when I say my performance was not the issue. Well, not the whole issue.”

“I’m listening . . .”

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to confide in my big brother for the first time in my entire life. “She didn’t tell me she was a virgin.” Jaxon sucked in a sharp breath at my admission. “I didn’t find out until we were in the act, and I realized I’d hurt her.”

“Yikes.”

“I mean, I didn’t know what to do. It’s not like I have much experience in deflowering women.”

Jaxon’s dark eyebrows raised. “Not even she-who-must-not-be-named?” Maybe if I hadn’t felt like the world was crashing down around me, I might’ve laughed at his reference to Lacey.

“Nope.” I shook my head. 

A sound resembling a snort flew from my brother’s nose. “That should’ve been your first clue. You two were together at sixteen, and she already had experience?”

Leveling him with a glare, I said, “Can we focus on my current girlfriend? Not the ghost of the past one that took four years to shake?”

“Right,” he agreed. “So, what would you have done if she’d told you beforehand? Let some other man do it for you?”

“Hell no!” I slammed my glass down on the arm of the chair, liquor sloshing over the edge. 

“Then what’s the problem, Braxton? Why is she in the house while you’re out here?”

My flash of anger was replaced with regret. “I can’t stop seeing her face. Knowing I was the cause of her pain. It kills me.”

“So, you thought that after she trusted you with a piece of herself she can’t give to any other man, it was a good idea to cut and run? How do you think that made her feel? Physical pain fades away into a distant memory. Emotional pain lingers and is not so easy to overcome.”

Tell me something I don’t already know.

“You love her.” It was a statement, not a question. If there was one thing Jaxon knew better than hockey, it was love. Standing, he gripped my shoulder. “You know what you need to do. Don’t waste your last night before we report to the team tomorrow sitting out here alone. Have the tough conversation. Let her know how you feel. I promise the sky is never falling quite the way it seems in your mind.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I mused, but he was already gone.

Taking a moment, I sipped the rest of the scotch in my glass. Jaxon was right. Nothing would be solved by avoiding Dakota. I was only hurting her more. 

Filling my lungs with a last deep breath of frosty air, I was about to head inside when a soft voice asked, “Did you mean what you said?”

Turning my head, I found Dakota a few steps behind the chairs, a blanket wrapped around her. 

“Yes.”

She tilted her head, stepping closer. “You’re not going to ask me to qualify which statement?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Everything I’ve said since I met you has been the truth.”

Standing beside my chair, the fire illuminated the sadness in her eyes. “You said that once you found your way into my bed that you would never leave.” Her gaze dropped to the ground, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “I woke up alone.”

“I’m sorry, Dakota.” For so many things. 

“Is it—is it because I was a virgin?”

“God, no.” I pushed off the armrests to stand before her, pulling Dakota into my arms. She burrowed her face into my chest, and I squeezed her tighter. Kissing the top of her head, I confessed, “It’s because I failed you.”

Lifting her eyes to meet mine, confusion filtered into her blue eyes. “You gave me an incredible night, Braxton. One I will never forget. How can you think you failed me?”

“I hurt you, baby.” I closed my eyes against the fresh wave of pain that rolled over me at that truth. 

Dakota huffed out a small laugh. “It was going to hurt no matter what. I knew that going in.”

Sighing, I forced myself to look down at her, held tight against my chest. “But I could have made it better, prepared you more instead of ramming into you like a damn caveman who couldn’t control himself.”

She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. In hindsight, it was a bad call. But the way you looked at me? The words you spoke? How desperately I needed you? I didn’t want to wait.”

We could rehash last night, going in circles around my guilt and her satisfaction. Or we could enjoy our last night together before I had to report to the Comets and we were forced to spend days apart while the team was on the road. 

I chose the latter. 

“Come sit with me?” I gestured to my recently vacated chair.

A tiny smile tipped up the corner of her lips. “I’d like that.”

Seating myself first, I pulled her onto my lap. Her weight was comforting, and I sank into it. With her head resting against my shoulder, I asked, “Did you at least have a quiet day with the kids out of the house?”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Your mom dropped by.”

My head snapped to peer down at her, and she shifted to shyly peek at me. My mom meant well, but she could be a lot. And considering the two of them had never been formally introduced, I wasn’t sure how a surprise drop-in would go.

“Is that so?”

Dakota shrugged. “She probably hates me.”

“Why would you say that?”

Looking out at the lake, she sighed. “I didn’t take it easy on her for standing there and doing nothing when your dad tore into you.”

My fearless Firefly.

I nuzzled my cheek against her hair. “I bet that made her like you more.”

“I hate that the burden you carry is out of your control. It was determined before you were even born. It’s not fair.”

Tightening my grip on her, I whispered, “Life isn’t always fair.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered. When she paused momentarily, I could tell the wheels were turning in her mind. She was always thinking, processing. I loved that about her. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” I vowed.

“If we ever have kids—”

I cut her off, gripping her chin and forcing her to meet my gaze. “There’s no if about it, Firefly. When we have kids.” Smirking as her cheeks pinkened, I prompted, “Now, you may continue.”

“Bossy.” She rolled her eyes, but I let out a laugh. 

Everything was better when she was in my arms. I was a fool for staying away. No matter what came our way, I knew we would always find a way to fix it together. 

Turning back to the lake before us, she said, “Okay. When we have kids, I need you to know that if it comes down to it, I will choose them over you.”

Did she really think that was something I would fight her on? 

“Baby, if I ever fail our children, I would expect you to put them first.”

“It won’t matter how much I love you.” 

She threw in that last point for emphasis, but my heart stopped beating. My mind raced, close to short-circuiting. 

Dakota said, I love you. Did she mean it? Or was it a hypothetical like the discussion on children we wouldn’t have for many years? It was too much and not enough. I needed answers. I needed clarification. 

But above all else, my life hung in the balance, needing to know if she truly loved me back.

Clearing my throat, I tried to play it cool, but unfortunately, my voice betrayed me, coming out high and squeaky. “Say that again?”

Dakota sat up, sliding off my lap to stand before me. Opening the blanket she clutched tightly to her chest, she revealed herself to be wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt. Her legs were bare between the hem and the top of her new boots. 

Swallowing, I was at a loss for words. 

She settled herself back onto my lap, this time straddling me, allowing the blanket to envelop us both.

Blue eyes sparkling in the firelight, she stared directly into my soul when she spoke the words I would never forget so long as I lived. “I love you, Braxton. You snuck up on me in the best way. And I’m so glad you didn’t let me get away.”

My chest swelled, and my heart threatened to explode. But I couldn't stop the happy laughter that bubbled up from my chest. “I think I started falling in love with you that first night when you sassed me in the basement.”

“God, I was such a bitch to you. It’s honestly a wonder you chased after me at all.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You were fierce. You weren’t going to let me get away with any shit. My charm had no effect on you. That’s when I knew you were special.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” She peered at me through her thick black lashes. 

“You can tell me anything.” I squeezed her bare thighs beneath the blanket.

“When you called me a ‘good girl’ that night, I just about died.”

My dick swelled to life where it was pressed against her core. “Oh yeah?” My voice took on a husky quality.

Biting her lip, she nodded. “I thought that was reserved for fictional men.”

Fingers sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, I caressed the soft skin of her hips. “And how do I measure up?”

She rocked against me, and I had to bite back a groan. “There’s no comparison. You blow them out of the water.”

Her lips descended on mine, signaling the time for talking was over. Slipping her tongue into my mouth, I let her take control of the pace as I skimmed my hands high enough to thumb her nipples. 

With a gasp, she tore her lips away, head thrown back as she let pleasure take over. She was stunning like this, lost in how I made her feel. 

“I need you, Braxton,” she said to the night sky.

When one of my hands traveled between her thighs, she jolted at the contact. “Are you sore?”

Dakota tipped her chin down to gaze at me. “A little,” she admitted. “But I can handle it.”

I circled her clit with one finger, and she bucked against it. “So eager, Firefly,” I teased. 

She pressed her forehead to mine. “How can I not be when I know my forever has just begun?”

“Fuck,” I whispered. “I love you so much, Dakota.”

Kissing me softly, she breathed the words against my lips. “I love you, too.”

Sinking my finger further into her heat, I groaned. She was soaked, and I’d barely touched her. It didn’t matter that her pussy was weeping onto my hand. I wouldn’t make the same mistake as last night. 

Adding a second finger, I pinched her clit between them, rolling it around. Dakota tensed on my lap, a deep groan rolling past her lips. “Oh God.”

“That’s it, baby. Tell me how it feels.” I kissed a path down her exposed neck. 

Cool air rushed over us as she flung the blanket off. “So hot.” Rolling her hips, she begged, “Don’t stop.”

As I tugged on the swollen bud gently—which wasn’t easy with how wet she was—she let out a high-pitched moan. “Yes! Please, more. I’m so close.” Her panting sent tiny clouds into the night sky. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Smirking, though she couldn’t see me, I added, “Now be a good girl and come all over my hand.”

A shocked gasp split the quiet surrounding us, and her eyes opened to stare at me, but her body obeyed my command. Coming hard, she slumped against my chest, trembling with the aftershocks. 

Brushing the damp hair away from her face, I mused, smiling, “I think we just unlocked your praise kink, sweetheart.”

Her only reply was a shaky breath that could almost pass for a laugh, and I held her close.

When her breathing evened out, she pushed off my chest, sitting up once again. “Your turn,” she declared, licking her lips and reaching for my waistband.

If she thought I was about to let her drop to her bare knees in the snow, she had another thing coming. I wasn’t going to stop her if she wanted to experiment with oral—hell, I’d teach her if she wanted—but not when she was half naked in below-freezing temps.

“Let’s go inside,” I offered. 

Gliding her soaking wet pussy over my concealed erection, she pouted. “But it’s so beautiful out here. When else will we have a chance to make love under the stars in front of a frozen lake?”

Closing my eyes, I groaned. “You’re killing me, baby.”

Dipping her head, her lips grazed the shell of my ear. “Make a core memory with me, Braxton.”

Fuck. This woman was threatening to unravel me. But I couldn’t be mad about it. She was perfect. 

“Raise up on your knees,” I commanded, giving in to the inevitable. I couldn’t deny her. Whatever she asked for, I would give it to her. 

Obeying, her movement allowed me enough room to shift my pants down and free my cock. Dropping my ass back onto the seat, I hissed at the contact with the freezing cold wood. It was a miracle my dick didn’t shrivel, given the temperature. The only saving grace was the heat radiating from between Dakota’s thighs. 

“Here’s how this is gonna go, baby.” I held her chin between my fingers. “You’re gonna ride my cock, and you’re gonna get yourself off fast. If you want more, that can be arranged inside. I don’t like you out here with so few clothes on.”

Nodding as much as my grip on her face allowed, she shifted enough that our bodies were aligned. But like the spitfire she was, she reached down and ripped the shirt over her head, revealing every perfect inch of skin. 

Unable to stop myself, my hand drew back, landing on her ass. She squealed, but fire flashed in her blue eyes as I growled, “Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. You’re playing a very dangerous game.”

Raising an eyebrow, she taunted, “I thought you liked games.”

“Listen closely, Firefly,” I gritted out. “You have exactly five seconds to sink onto my cock.”

A mischievous grin lit up her face. “Or else what?”

My grip tightened painfully on her hips, but she didn’t react. Forget the blushing virgin. This woman was a siren. And she was all mine. 

“You wanna act like a brat? Then you’ll be punished like one. I’ll fucking tie you to your bed and spend all night painting every stunning inch of your skin with my cum. You’ll be my muse as I stroke my cock, never once letting you have it as I come over and over again.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t shrink under my intense gaze. “I’d like to see you try.”

That was it. My control snapped, and I took charge, sliding her onto my cock myself since it was clear she was being defiant for sport. God, I was going to have so much fun with this woman. We had the rest of our lives to play these games. 

With my eyes trained on her face, I noticed the tiniest grimace once I bottomed out. Softening, I asked, “You sure you’re okay?”

Nodding, Dakota rolled her hips, testing the feeling of our joining. “I’m good,” she confirmed.

“Hold on tight, baby. This is gonna be a rough ride.”

Lifting her with ease, I slammed her back down on my cock. “God, yes,” she moaned. 

Jesus. I was thinking I could get her off quickly and get her inside the warm house, but with the blistering heat and softness that accompanied going bare, I wasn’t sure she would get off before I exploded. This would be the ultimate test of my self-control.

Repeating my actions, this time, I raised my hips to meet hers, grinding us together on impact. Dakota’s fingers dug into my shoulders, which only spurred me on. Almost violently, I moved her over my cock, her near screams splitting the air. 

“Oh!” she squealed. “Right there!” 

Honing in on the action that brought on such a visceral reaction, I went to work, pounding into her while barely holding on myself. 

“Come on, baby,” I forced out through gritted teeth, feeling her walls flutter around me. “Squeeze my cock. Milk me dry.”

Mouth dropping open, she sucked in a sharp breath before shattering in my arms. Chasing the waves of pleasure, her hips jolted erratically, and I let loose with a roar so loud my throat felt raw when I finally quieted. 

Banding my arms around her waist, I pulled her to my chest. Her stuttered breaths fanned against my chin as our combined release leaked onto my thighs. 

Despite the chill, I had to admit Dakota was right. I would never forget this night with her. It was as perfect as she was.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 25

Dakota

Flying home with Natalie and the kids after the Comets played the Freeze—which I now knew was aptly named—I had a few days to myself before the team’s return. And boy was I putting that time to good use. 

It was like something unlocked in my brain, and the words flew through my fingertips, unable to be contained. Who knew sex would be the perfect cure for writer’s block? Or maybe it was having first-hand experience and being in love. Either way, I was on fire!

There were no longer any doubts about hitting my late February release date. The readers would be happy, and I was on cloud nine. Win-win.

Usually, I kept my door cracked when working, especially on this current project, practically begging for a distraction from Bristol. But not these past two days. I couldn’t risk losing pace, not when I was on a hot streak.

But that didn’t stop her from knocking tentatively on the third day I hadn’t surfaced. “Hey. Just want to make sure you’re still alive in there. I don’t smell anything funky leaking into the hallway, but you never know.”

Eyeing my computer, I sighed. Better to let her know I was fine so I could go back to work.

Standing, stretching my stiff back, I opened my bedroom door. “All good. Just didn’t want to lose momentum.”

Bristol’s eyes widened. “Oh? It’s going good?”

“More than good.” I couldn’t bite back a smile.

“I haven’t seen you since before you left for Minnesota. Are you even eating? Or sleeping?” She assessed me skeptically.

Grimacing, I admitted, “Not much.”

“Okay. Time for a break. Braxton will have my head if he comes home tonight and you’re half dead, too weak to stand from low blood sugar and sleep deprivation.” She smirked. “Plus, an embarrassingly large display of roses was delivered for you. Thought you might want to take a peek.”

“Roses? For me?” My stomach somersaulted. No one had ever gotten me flowers before.

“The delivery driver said your name. Card appears to have it as well.” She tugged on my arm. “Come downstairs and see for yourself. And while you’re down there, let me reheat you some leftover pizza.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, even as I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. 

Following her downstairs, I stopped dead in my tracks. I was expecting maybe a dozen roses, but my eyes bulged when I saw our entire coffee table, plus the kitchen table covered in stunning red roses, their aroma taking over the room. 

“Oh wow,” I breathed out. “What in the world did you do, Braxton?”

Bristol beamed at me. “I think he likes you.”

“You think?” I huffed. 

Stepping up to one of the many vases, Bristol plucked out a white envelope and handed it to me. Taking a deep breath, I slid the card out and read it to myself, my smile growing. 

A rose for each day I’ve had you in my life. 105 down, forever to go, Firefly.

Clutching the card to my chest, a rush of warmth blanketed me. It was still hard to believe he was mine after how hard I’d pushed him away. But I would thank God every day for his stubbornness—or tenacity, as he called it—in his pursuit. He’d seen something I wouldn’t allow myself to see until he proved himself, but he had always been up for the challenge. 

“Let me see,” Bristol whined beside me. I held it out, and she snatched it from my hand. Her soft gasp reached my ears as she read the words. Waving the card in my face, she demanded, “What the fuck is this?”

Frowning, my bubble burst. What did she see that I didn’t? “What do you mean?”

Cocking a hip, Bristol challenged, “Forever to go? Is there a ring you’ve got stashed somewhere? Because if so, we are breaking up. No more best friend Bristol for you, young lady.”

I sighed, carefully plucking the card from her grasp. I wanted to save his beautiful words, a reminder of his love when our relationship inevitably hit a hard patch. I wasn’t a pessimist, but rather a realist. All relationships had their ups and downs, and this would be what I looked at any time we faced struggles in the future. 

“No. There’s no ring. I’m not insane. We’ve been dating for five weeks.”

Bristol pursed her lips. “This note. These flowers. They’re not nothing, Dakota. He said the word forever. How are you not freaking out right now?”

I shrugged before casually dropping a bomb on my best friend. “Because he loves me.” 

My back was turned, and I was headed to inspect the roses in the kitchen when I heard her shriek, “What?!” When I didn’t answer, Bristol stomped to where I stood, grabbing my arm and turning me to face her. “Braxton Slate loves you? Did he say that?”

Trying to play it cool, I moved to the fridge. “We have pizza in here?”

“Dakota Elise. I swear to God, you better cut the shit and spill.” Bristol’s breaths came in sharp huffs like that of a fire-breathing dragon. 

Slamming the fridge door shut, I leaned against the counter. “Yes, he said it.” I smirked. “But so did I.”

Bristol’s jaw dropped. I would lay good odds that she hadn’t seen that admission coming. When she finally worked through what I said, she let out an ear-splitting scream, and I was forced to cover my ears to protect them. 

When she finally came up for air, she jolted as if struck by lightning. “Wait. You didn’t—Oh my God, did you?” Scanning my face with her sharp gaze, she must have confirmed what she was looking for because she gasped, covering her mouth. “You so did! You slept with him!”

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I ducked my head. “Maybe?”

Scoffing, she countered, “Oh, there’s no maybe about it, missy.” Dragging me to the couch, she threw me onto it before sidling up to me, tucking her legs beneath her. “Tell me everything.” She groaned. “I cannot believe you lost your virginity in Jaxon Slate’s summer home. I was low-key obsessed with that man from the ages of ten to sixteen.” Bristol smiled dreamily. “My first ever hockey boy crush. And now he’s going to be your brother-in-law!” 

A squeal flew past her lips, and I could only blink at her. She was running through every human emotion known to man, and it was quite the show.

“Okay. Maybe slow down a minute.” I tried to settle her enthusiastic bouncing with a hand to her knee. “Like I said, there’s no ring. No one is getting married anytime soon.”

Bristol gave me a look that said get real, right before she challenged, “So, you’re saying the man is talking about forever, but there aren’t wedding bells in your future?” Her voice was full of sass.

I blew out a heavy breath. “I didn’t say that.” Oh, boy. I knew this next tidbit was going to send her through the roof. “He’s already pictured us with kids.”

“Kids!” Her blue eyes went comically large. “Holy shit. What the hell happened in Minnesota?”

“It was pretty magical,” I mused.

Bristol closed her eyes before taking a cleansing breath in through her nose, letting it out through her mouth. “Okay. Give me a second because my brain can’t keep up with how fast you’re hitting me with life-altering information.”

Grinning, I couldn’t argue. My whole life had shifted on its axis these past few weeks, and I wasn’t sorry. I was finally letting myself live. The future was ready and waiting to be written, and I couldn’t wait to see how our story panned out. 

Placing a hand to her chest, Bristol opened her eyes. “Okay. First question.” I nodded, so she continued. “Did the ‘I love you’ happen before or after you let him take your V-card?”

“A little bit of both.” I knew that wasn’t much of an answer, but it was true.

“Spit it out, woman!” She was losing her patience with me, and I couldn’t blame her. It was too much fun to rile her up. 

“He’s mentioned big feelings for me in the past, but something clicked while we were away. Christmas was magical—he was magical—and I finally let myself analyze how he made me feel. So, I knew for certain I was in love with him before suggesting we have sex.”

“You?” Bristol stared at me in disbelief. “Sweet, innocent, never-been-kissed Dakota propositioned him?” My smirk was all the confirmation she needed, and she muttered, “Damn. I thought you just got carried away. Hockey boys know how to fuck. And they like to do it often.”

“Cheers to that.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Being in love was fucking awesome.

Dazed, she whispered, “Look at you, you little slut. I love it!”

“Anything else you want to know? I have a book that’s not going to write itself waiting for me. And as you mentioned, the boys are home tonight.”

“You didn’t answer my first question,” she huffed.

“Oh, right. At some point during that first time, he mentioned already being in love with me. But it was the next night when I told him I loved him that he officially said, ‘I love you’.” I smiled, thinking back on it. “Underneath a blanket of stars. A picture-perfect, book-worthy moment.” I winked. “And I would know.”

“Lucky bitch,” Bristol grumbled. “So, this intense need to write . . . You got your inspiration, didn’t you?”

Shrugging, I stood. “The mind is like a ketchup bottle. Sometimes you gotta bang on the end of it to get the ideas out.”

Snorting, Bristol said, “Pretty sure it wasn’t your mind getting banged.”

We both fell into a fit of giggles. That one was pretty good. Might have to find its way into a book at some point.

“Back to work,” I called over my shoulder, my ribs aching from laughter. 

She made a whip-cracking sound. “I’ll be at Nix’s tonight, so you two love birds will have the house all to yourselves. Enjoy!”

I couldn’t wait for Braxton to get home to thank him in person for the flowers.

Braxton didn’t reply to my text thanking him for the roses until after their game against the Chicago Crush was over, and he was on the bus that would take the team to the airport. 

Braxton: You are so welcome, Firefly. I can’t wait to get home to you.

I’ll be waiting up. What time do you think you’ll get in?

Braxton: Hold, please, while I do time zone math. Let’s see. It’s 10:30 here, maybe an hour before we’re in the air. Two hour flight, give or take, so that’s 1:30 AM. Then another thirty minutes until I’m at your door. So, 2 AM, add an hour from Central Time, and you get 3 AM. I know it’s late. Are you sure you want me to come over tonight?

I’m sure. I miss you.

Braxton: I miss you too, babe. But if you go to sleep now, I can be there as soon as you wake up. I hate the idea of you being tired because of me. 

Then I guess it’s a good thing I have the ultimate job flexibility. I took a nap earlier. I’m fine. I promise. Plus, I can use the next few hours to keep writing. Once you’re here, I’ll have a hard time staying focused. *Wink emoji*

Braxton: You get a lot of work done while I was away?

So much. I might actually meet my deadline at this rate.

Braxton: That’s great news! Makes me feel better about being away, knowing you’re being productive.

Have a safe flight. I love you and will see you soon.

Braxton: Love you too, baby. See you in a few hours.

I was curled up on the couch when Braxton finally made it home. His soft knock was hesitant, almost as if he doubted that I’d been able to wait up. 

Jumping to my feet, I rushed to the door, flinging it open and launching myself into his strong arms. Braxton squeezed me tight, sucking in a large breath of air where his face was buried in my hair. “Fuck. I’ve missed your smell.”

I would have returned the sentiment, except I’d been naughty. Stepping back, allowing him to close the door, I drank in the sight of the man I loved. He was still in a suit but was missing the jacket and tie. His white button-down was open at the collar, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing his impressive forearms.

Damn, my boyfriend is hot.

His whiskey eyes flared when he saw what I was wearing. I’d taken the liberty of stealing one of his Comets T-shirts from his bag before he reported to the team in Minneapolis. I wore it every night while he was gone, allowing his scent to surround me as I slept. It was a comfort I hadn’t realized I desperately needed.

But just as quickly as life sprang to his face, it drained. Running a hand down his tired face, he moved closer, brushing his lips softly against mine. “Can I just hold you tonight, Firefly? I know I’ve been gone a while, but . . .”

He didn’t need to say the words. It was 3 AM, and he’d played—and won, I might add—a physically demanding game only hours ago. Of course, he was exhausted. 

Slipping my hand into his, I tugged him toward the stairs. “Sounds perfect.”

Entering my room, I climbed into bed, watching him strip down until all that remained on his muscular frame were black boxer briefs. Slipping in beside me, he pinched at the fabric of my—technically his—shirt. That crooked grin curved his lips. “Looks a little big.”

Using my hands, I gripped the collar, bringing it to my nose but keeping my eyes locked on him. “Smells like you.”

“You have me right here, baby.” He tugged on the hem, and I raised my arms, allowing him to pull it over my head, leaving me only in a pair of the Arabella Reign silk panties Hannah had gifted me. Eyes roving over my mostly naked form, he whispered, “Much better.”

Flicking off the light on the nightstand, he laid down, pulling my back against his chest. His body dwarfed mine, surrounding me with the warmth radiating from his skin. Pressing a kiss to the back of my neck, I could feel the contentment in his voice as he said, “Night, baby. It’s so good to be home.”

Held in his arms, I drifted off to sleep slowly. But one thought reached me before darkness dragged me under. 

So, this is what pure happiness feels like.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 26

Braxton

Dakota was now mine in every sense of the word. And damn if that didn’t make it hard to leave her behind to travel with the team. She was all I thought about, and I itched to return home to her every minute I was away. I had no idea how my brother pulled it off with kids thrown into the mix. How his heart didn’t shatter every time he stepped on the team plane was a wonder. 

With two wins in two games on the road, Coach Moreau gave us New Year’s Eve off, with the explicit instruction not to party too hard because there would be no excuses for lazy play in practice the following day. A few new guys chuckled at the threat, but the veterans nodded during the announcement in the Chicago locker room. They knew he wasn’t joking. 

While away, I set a plan in motion to make my first New Year’s Eve with Dakota memorable. I knew I was setting a dangerous precedent, trying to outdo each of our first holidays. On Thanksgiving, we shared our first kiss. On Christmas, we had sex for the first time. You wouldn’t think I could top that one, but I wanted to go into our first full year with a bang. 

Blindfolding Dakota, I drove through Hartford as she asked excited questions about our destination. Giving nothing away, I merely stroked my thumb over her knuckles where our hands were clasped over the center console of my car, telling her it was a surprise. 

Parking, I eased her gingerly out of the car. The last thing I needed was for her to faceplant on concrete and spend the night in the emergency room. She took unsure steps forward, holding onto my hand like a lifeline. She didn’t need to worry. I wasn’t letting her go. 

“I’ve got you, babe,” I whispered in her ear. 

She huffed out an impatient breath. “Are we almost there?”

“A little bit further,” I coaxed, traveling through the building I knew like the back of my hand. 

Easing her to a stop, I placed my hands on her hips from behind. Teasing her, I said, “Not sure you can handle this.”

An exasperated laugh echoed in the space. “Oh my God. You’re running the risk of me going from excited to aggravated. You’re walking a fine line as it is.”

“So sassy.” I nipped at her earlobe before tracing the lines of her cheekbones and sliding over the length of the blindfold tied behind her head. Quickly unknotting it, I let it slide from her face, revealing my surprise. 

Staring in awe, her head swiveled from side to side to take it all in. We were standing behind the home bench of an empty Comets Arena. Pulling a few strings with the security guard I’d made friends with back when I was simply Jaxon’s younger brother, I’d explained I wanted to do something special for my girl. He mused about his first love and did me a solid, ensuring we could access the arena when no one else would be allowed inside. 

“It didn’t seem this big from where I sat the last time,” Dakota said breathlessly. “How do you not get nervous when this place is packed?”

Hugging her to my chest, I chuckled. “I’m used to it. The stage gets bigger, but the game remains the same. It went from only my parents watching, to youth games with everyone’s families, then high school—which, let me tell you, is a big deal in Minnesota—before the US junior team and college. I was used to an audience, and over time, they grew in size.”

“What are we doing here?” Dakota turned in my arms.

I couldn’t contain my excitement at sharing this piece of my life with the woman I loved. She made it all easier. My feelings of inadequacy had melted away these past few weeks, and I began to love the game again. It was remarkable how one small change could have a ripple effect on my life. 

“Thought maybe we could take her for a spin.” I winked.

Blue eyes bulged. “We’re going to skate? Here?”

I shrugged. “Why not? It’s all ours for the night.”

“But won’t we get in trouble?” She peeked around my shoulder down the tunnel leading to the underbelly of the rink. 

“Nah. I called in a favor. There’s no place I’d rather be than on the ice with you when we ring in the new year.” As if on cue, the giant screen hanging over center ice turned on, tuning into the live broadcast from Times Square. We had an hour until midnight, and the clock was ticking. 

Dakota’s laughter was music to my ears when I pulled out our skates stashed beneath the bench. “You really have this all planned out, don’t you?”

“Nothing left to chance.” I kissed her cheek. 

As she sat, extending her left foot for me to slip on her skate, she asked, “You know there will come a time when you can’t outdo yourself, right?”

Repeating the process with her right foot, I placed my hands on her knees. “All I want is to make you smile. Whether it’s grand gestures like this one or a lazy night at home, your happiness is all I strive for. In my mind, it’ll be a game to keep you smiling. The how doesn’t matter.”

Dakota’s hand cupped my cheek. “How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”

Turning my head, I kissed her palm before replying, “You bring it out in me, Firefly.”

She let me lace her up, and then I quickly did my own skates. Holding her hands in mine, we glided onto the pristine ice surface. 

Glancing around as we skated in slow circles, she mused, “It’s stunning from this angle.”

Bumping her shoulder, I joked, “Oh, is it not from the stands?”

Rolling her eyes, she bumped me right back. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” I nodded my agreement. “It never gets old.”

“Pardon me.” She slowed to a stop beside me. “What happened to the Braxton I met months ago? The woe-is-me-hockey-is-just-my-job Braxton?”

Placing both hands on her hips, I leaned in for a kiss, savoring the taste of her lips before pulling back. “He fell in love, and the world took on new meaning.”

There was a devilish gleam in her eyes, glittering beneath the bright lights. “I think you’re full of shit. Willing to say anything to get the girl. Saw a wounded bird and figured the key to landing her was a relatable story.” She shook her head in mock disgust, scoffing. “Shameful, Braxton. Really.”

Her quick wit was one of the things I loved most about her, and I knew life would never be boring with this woman by my side. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t make it even more interesting. 

I arched an eyebrow before throwing one arm straight in the air. “That’s it. To the penalty box, you go!”

“What?”

Her laughter floated behind me as I dragged her to the box and unlatched the door. 

As I ushered Dakota inside, she whined, “What was my offense?”

Stepping behind her, I closed us in. She jumped with the heavy thud of the door. “Two minutes for being a smartass.”

She huffed, but I could hear the smile in her voice. “Bullshit call, Stripes.”

Fuck. I love this woman.

Crowding her space, I forced her to step forward until her knees hit the bench. Against the shell of her ear, I said, “Do you know what the players call this place?”

“Nuh-uh.” Dakota shook her head.

“The sin bin,” I whispered darkly. “You’ve been naughty and need to be punished, baby.”

I was rewarded with the sweet sound of her moan as she leaned back against me. “Braxton,” she breathed out.

“Knees up on the bench.” I dropped my lips to her exposed neck, teasing the skin with my teeth. 

Following my command, she kneeled on the bench meant for players to sit while they served their penalties. 

Scanning the arena quickly with my eyes, I knew there were security cameras everywhere, but with the place empty, likely no one was manning the room with the live feed. And unless there was an incident, it was unlikely that they would go back to review tonight’s replay. It was a calculated risk, but one I was willing to take.

“Hands on the glass.” My voice came out rough as the idea of taking Dakota in this tiny box became more of a reality. 

Stepping up behind her, my groin pressed against the curve of her ass, and I groaned. Dakota’s heavy breathing created a patch of fog on the glass directly in front of her face. If I had any doubts about her willingness to perform a very private act in a public place, even an empty one, they flew out the window at the eager wiggle of her backside against my rock-hard dick.

Gripping the sides of her leggings, I slid the stretchy fabric down her smooth thighs until they hit her knees. Using my hands, I positioned them as far apart on the bench as the material would allow. There was just enough space that I could step between her skates, the blades pointing in my direction. 

I left her silk panties on. When she turned her head in question, I teased the fabric aside with my fingers, brushing against where she was already dripping wet for me. 

“No one gets to see you but me,” I rasped.

Blue eyes widening, her head whipped around, likely searching for someone lurking in the arena, but I set her mind at ease. “No one is here. But there are cameras . . . everywhere.”

A sharp gasp flew past her lips, and arousal flooded my hand. 

Smirking, I sank a finger inside her. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to star in one of those little videos you watch on your computer?” Dakota rode my hand, panting. “Tell me the truth, baby.”

“Yessssss.” Her head lolled back against my chest.

“Then let’s give ’em a show.” Easing a second finger inside her warmth, I made sure she was ready before shoving the waistband of my pants down to free my cock. The way I had us positioned, it might be obvious what we were doing on a security feed, but it wouldn’t be explicitly graphic. 

Removing my hand, I pressed my cock against her entrance. With her legs barely spread, there was just enough space for me. 

My grip on her hips tightened, and I warned, “It’s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

“Isn’t it always?” she taunted back. 

Well, shit. She had me there. 

Dipping my head, I growled in her ear, “And that kind of backtalk is exactly what landed you in this position.” Those were the last words I said before I slammed home, and we both groaned at the connection. 

Her hands slid on the foggy glass ahead of her as she tried to grip it, needing an anchor as I pounded into her hard from behind. 

I was losing control. She was too perfect, her pussy gripping me tighter with each thrust. 

“I wanna hear your screams echoing throughout this space so loud I can hear them in my dreams.” A cry split the air at my words, and my fingers dug into her soft flesh. “Good girl,” I grunted, and she moaned, keening against me.

“Do you know what I’m doing right now?” I gritted my teeth as my balls tightened. I wasn’t going to last much longer. 

Dakota could only manage a whimper in response. 

“I’m rewiring your brain. I want you throbbing for me every time you watch hockey. Hell, I don’t want you to smell fucking ice without getting so wet that you’re dripping down your thighs.”

I was seconds away from blowing my load when her pussy fluttered at the picture I painted. She was right there; I just needed to throw her over the edge. Slipping one hand around her hip and into the front of her panties, I circled her clit furiously with my fingers. This had become a race, and I was determined to let her win. 

Her scream split the air as she clamped down on my cock hard enough to steal my breath away. I managed a few more thrusts, spurred on by the near sobs slipping past her lips before I let go. Groaning into her neck, I spilled deep inside her. 

There was a sense of satisfaction knowing I would be leaking out of her for the rest of the night. With any other woman, I would be panicked, worried about a failure rate on her birth control. But with her, I didn’t care. She was it. Kids were an inevitability for us, and if they happened to surprise us early, so be it. Wouldn’t change a thing.

Sighing as her breathing regulated, Dakota said, “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said two minutes.”

Barking out a laugh, I slid from her body carefully, tucking myself into my pants. “Careful, Firefly. Talking back to the ref could earn you an extra ten minutes. Ready for round two already?”

I stepped back, allowing her to stand. She bent to pull up her leggings but wobbled on unsteady legs, and I jolted forward to support her.

“Am I going to have to carry you back to the car?” I teased.

“Forgot I was in skates. I’m okay.” The smile in her breathless voice was audible. 

“Fucked the sense right out of you, did I?”

“Cocky as ever,” she shot back, feigning annoyance. 

Nuzzling her neck, I murmured, “Coulda fooled me. Half the time, you’re begging for my cock.” Lowering my body until I knelt behind her, I offered, “Allow me.”

I was face to face with her ass, and I couldn’t help leaning in and inhaling deeply between her thighs. “Fuck, I can smell myself on you, baby.” She tried to shimmy away, but I held firm. “Give me a minute.”

“You know, it’s kinda cold in here . . .”

I took one last drag of our unique blend of scents and slid her leggings back into place.

“Happy now?” I gave her a pat on the ass.

Turning in my arms, Dakota’s eyes darted over my shoulder before they fixed on my face and she smiled. “Happy New Year, Braxton.”

I whipped my head around and saw that we’d missed the countdown while having fun in the penalty box. Buried deep inside the woman I loved as the clock struck midnight was symbolic—we were getting a fresh start, together. The future was what we made it.

“Happy New Year, Firefly.” I slid my hand into her curls, tipping her head back before sealing my lips over hers in a kiss. 

A new year, a new life, and I couldn’t be happier. 

Coach was pissed. The death glare he shot me as I headed to the box for the fifth time that night would have scared most players straight. Too bad it wouldn’t work on me. Not tonight. 

The first time I was called for an inadvertent high-sticking penalty, I skated off without much of a fuss. Sure, it sucked that sometimes your stick ended up somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be, and it looked worse than it was. As I made my way to the box, the replay on the big screen showed it as accidental. Our sticks got tangled, and when Kohler for the DC Eagles lifted his, mine went with it, clipping him in the chin. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t intent; the second my stick touched his face, I was guilty. 

So, off to the box I went. 

The second the attendant shut me inside, I lost my damn mind. 

The scent of Dakota—of sex—filtered into my nostrils, and I became a man possessed. I would be damned if any of my teammates got a whiff of my girl and that became the topic of post-game locker conversations. I knew they wouldn’t be able to let it slide. They’d dig until they figured out which among us had had sex in the penalty box. And then it would become a discussion of when, and I wouldn’t put it past one of them to grease the palms of the security team to pull the tapes to find out. 

That couldn’t happen.

Once I was let out, I made it my personal mission to be the only Comet to land himself in the box, which wasn’t an easy task. I was one of eighteen skaters. Anything could happen when I wasn’t on the ice. 

But when I was out there, I took bad penalties. I needed another hit, and it clouded my judgment. The more time I spent in the box, the more I craved Dakota. God help her later because I was going to tear her apart.

This fifth and final penalty had been strategic. I started a fight with thirteen minutes left on the game clock. I knew I would get the two for fighting, but I made sure to call the ref a pussy, and that earned me an extra ten. There was enough time past my penalty that they wouldn’t send me down the tunnel and say my night was over. There would be a little over sixty seconds remaining after I’d served my time. 

The instant I was let out, Coach told me to take a seat through gritted teeth. He would make me pay for it tomorrow at practice, but I didn’t care. 

The buzzer sounded on a three-to-one win over the Eagles—no small miracle with how much time we’d spent shorthanded, courtesy of yours truly—and we skated to congratulate Reed for a great game played in net. 

As the captain, Jaxon was always the last one off the ice and waited for me by the bench door. One dark eyebrow raised, he asked, “What in the world got into you tonight?”

I shrugged. “You know how it is. Sometimes, you’re in the mood to mix it up.”

Gesturing for me to step off the ice ahead of him, we walked toward the locker room. 

“Yeah, I do know how it is. But usually, when a clean player can’t stay out of the box, something else is going on. Everything okay with Dakota? It seemed like you two worked everything out back at the lake house.”

“Better than okay,” I shot back, an edge to my voice.

Jaxon tugged my elbow, halting me before we reached where the media was huddled outside the locker room, ready and eager to be let inside. 

“Look, I thought we shared a moment while up there. I don’t know, maybe I was wrong. But if you ever need my help, know you can always come to me. I wasn’t around a lot when you were a kid, but I’m here now. And I want us to be closer.”

Fuck, why did Jaxon always have to be the better man? He was trying, and I was being an asshole to him. 

Leaning against the concrete wall, I let out a heavy breath. “Yeah, we did. I’m sorry. I promise Dakota and I are fine. I was in a weird head space tonight. It won’t happen again.”

His whiskey eyes, identical to mine, surveyed me skeptically. “Dad?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck, no.”

“All right.” Jaxon nodded. “Let’s go get cleaned up. Better take it easy tonight because Coach is gonna ride you hard tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Been there.”

I would take whatever punishment came my way for my actions tonight. But right now, all I cared about was getting my hands on Dakota.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 27

Dakota

I was a little shaken by the performance Braxton had put on tonight. I’d never seen him like that. The first penalty was clearly an accident, but after that, it almost seemed like he was trying to get himself in trouble. The fight at the end and the ensuing altercation with the ref were definitely out of character for him. Even Natalie and Hannah were surprised by his actions. 

Natalie asked if I wanted to join her and Liv when they took the kids to the locker room post-game, but I declined. My head was still trying to process what had gotten into Braxton. 

He’d driven me to the game, so I elected to wait for him by the car, texting him where I would be so he didn’t panic that I was missing when the rest of the crew found them. 

The cool air of the parking garage was the shock I needed, and I inhaled deeply, letting the frosty chill permeate my lungs. I knew Braxton wasn’t a violent man. I knew he would never hurt me. But something was going on with him tonight, and it worried me that he hadn’t confided in me.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain of the past. Would my father’s actions always haunt me? Would I always be fearful that I wasn’t enough for the man I loved? Would I always be looking over my shoulder, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop?

No. Braxton wasn’t my father. He would never betray me. 

I just had to keep repeating it over and over in my mind until it forced out all the nagging doubts. Emotional trauma was a bitch like that, constantly popping in to say hello. The scars left behind would always serve as a reminder, even after you healed. 

Steps echoed on concrete, and I forced my eyes open. 

Braxton was on approach, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. 

I expected him to be hanging his head, either frustrated or angry, but the man before me was stalking closer like a predator. I squirmed, realizing I was the prey. 

What the hell is going on with him tonight?

Frozen to the spot, I could only watch as he invaded my space, placing both hands on the car beside my head, caging me in. The fire in his eyes was so intense I swallowed involuntarily. 

Peering up at him, I squeaked out, “Five penalties? And a major?”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, nostrils flaring. “Get in the car, Dakota.” The words were said through gritted teeth, his jaw tightly clenched.

Nodding, I ducked beneath his arms, reaching for the handle on the passenger side door. A hand snagged my wrist, and I was spun back around. 

“The backseat.”

My jaw dropped, and my eyes bulged. “The-the backseat?”

“You heard me.”

With his free hand, he opened the door and let me slip inside. Seated, my knees bounced. Braxton was in some kind of a mood, and I knew he was going to take it out on my body. 

What did it say about me that I was more excited than nervous at the prospect? 

Honestly, I became a different person when we found ourselves in those intimate moments. I wanted to press his buttons, to push him past the breaking point because, goddamn, was it hot when he was riled up and his filthy mouth came out to play. I shifted on the leather seat, beginning to ache, remembering the dirty words he spoke in my ear when he was buried deep inside me. 

Braxton opened the passenger door, and the seat slid forward as far as it would go, creating space in the back. 

Oh yeah, this is definitely happening.

The door slammed shut, and I jumped, the anticipation of what was coming putting my senses on high alert. Braxton climbed into the backseat, settling on his knees between my thighs and closing the door behind him, sealing us inside together. 

The interior gradually dimmed, the only light surrounding us in the tight space came from the glow of the garage lighting through darkly tinted windows. The air grew thick as our breathing mixed, heady and hot. 

Before I could ask if he was okay, Braxton lurched forward, taking my lips in a punishing kiss. Caught off guard, I jolted, but his hands gripped my face, holding me in place as he ravaged my mouth. There was no doubt he intended to dominate me tonight. Hell, he couldn’t wait until we got home. That spoke volumes to his need for our connection. 

Whimpering into his mouth, I battled back with my tongue, and he groaned. Hands leaving my face, they tore at my clothing. My jeans and panties were wrenched down my legs so fast that I barely managed to kick my shoes off in time. The jersey I wore with Braxton’s name and number was ripped over my head, and the cups of my bra were pushed aside. 

I arched into his touch when he pinched my nipples, sending shockwaves straight between my legs. Clawing at his chest, I tried desperately to unbutton his shirt. When I failed to get my fingers to work properly with the haze of lust surrounding my vision, Braxton pulled back enough to shuck his suit jacket, and before I could blink, his hands gripped two hands of material at his chest, and he pulled. Buttons flew as the two sides of the fabric split apart, revealing his muscular chest. 

My hands reached out to trace the lines of each ridge. Braxton sucked in a sharp breath when I grazed his belt buckle. We both knew where this was headed. I needed him to put me out of my misery. Now.

Quick and dirty in the backseat of a car? God, was this really my life? Were we sure it wasn’t a figment of my own imagination as I wrote this story? I sure hoped not. If it were, I would spend the rest of my life searching for a man who measured up to Braxton—achingly sweet when it mattered but dirty as fuck when we were naked.

The jangling of his belt buckle coming undone brought me back to my senses, and before I had time to prepare, my legs were hoisted over his shoulders, and he leaned closer, bending me in half. I was completely at his mercy, pinned against the seat. But I wasn’t scared; I knew he would take care of me. 

Notching himself at my entrance, he kept his eyes on mine as he sank inside with one forceful thrust, and I cried out. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The angle was so deep I wasn’t sure I could take it. 

Pulling his hips back, he snapped them sharply, forcing the air from my lungs. Pressing down with his chest, he deepened the angle, causing me to shriek. The sensations were overwhelming, and I struggled to hold on as he pounded into me harder and harder. 

Forehead pressed to mine, Braxton’s hot breath fanned my face. He was all grunts and groans as he possessed my body in a way only he ever would. 

And then he spoke. 

“I could still smell you in there.” His voice was strained. Even unhinged as he was, he was still holding back. “Drove me insane. I couldn’t get enough.”

My mind was fuzzy, but it finally clicked. The penalty box. The other night, we’d had sex in there. And he could still smell it days later? 

I wanted to be embarrassed, but seeing how it made him feral for me was empowering. I did this to him. He was out of his mind because of me.

He slowed his punishing pace, instead grinding where we were joined, and I saw stars, trying to gain more friction but only being able to take what he was willing to give.

Peering up, I found a lock of his damp black hair had fallen over his face. His jaw was locked, but his eyes blazed, searing into my soul. 

A wicked grin curved his lips, even as every tendon in his neck was straining. “The videos from the other night were likely too far away for anyone to capture your face. But tonight? They’re going to know it’s you in this car. With me. They’ll see it rocking and know exactly what’s happening in here. That you’re mine. That I couldn’t wait one more second to sink inside you. That I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

Moaning, I closed my eyes against the increased throbbing between my thighs, knowing someone was likely watching. First, a praise kink, and now I discover I’m an exhibitionist? Sure as hell didn’t have either of those on my bingo card. 

Two weeks ago, I was a virgin. Now, look at me.

What else was Braxton going to unlock?

Thinking went out the window when Braxton raised on his knees, changing the angle once again as he gripped my hips painfully and resumed his relentless rhythm from earlier. 

I knew vaguely that the foreign sounds filling the car belonged to me, but I couldn’t focus on anything else but the feel of Braxton plunging his cock between my thighs, filling me up over and over. Tingles gathered where we were joined, and I was powerless to stop the orgasm that slammed into me harder than Braxton’s hips. My lungs seized, and black spots danced in my vision as the pleasure washed over me in waves.

Grunting, Braxton stilled, holding me tight as his cock twitched inside me and the warmth of his release spread. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, breathing heavily. 

Slowly, we came back to Earth, and he lowered my legs, climbing onto the seat beside me and pulling me into his arms. 

He stroked my hair softly before asking, “Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head against his chest. “No. It was amazing. How does it keep getting better every time?”

Braxton huffed out a laugh. “I’m convinced it’s us. It’s never felt like this before. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to slake my thirst for you, baby. It’s taken over my soul and become a part of the very fabric of my being. When we’re connected, I don’t know where I end and you begin, and I never want to find out.”

Smirking, I peered up at him. His face was finally relaxed for the first time since he’d appeared in the garage. “Might have to pay someone to fumigate that penalty box.”

A rumble came from deep within his chest. “Or maybe I’ll have the scent of us bottled.”

“How much trouble are you in?”

“A lot.” He sighed heavily. “But you know what?’

“What?” I asked.

“It was so worth it.”

We both laughed out loud. He was back to being the funny, flirty Braxton that I loved. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the sexy, animalistic version of Braxton, too, but that wasn’t the foundation our relationship was built on. It was the every-day, the companionship, that would see us through long-term. 

Braxton was quickly becoming my best friend. How had I gotten so lucky?

“Babe?” There was a knock on my bedroom door, and Braxton pushed it open with one hand covering his eyes. “Let me know if it’s safe. I know how much you love to watch porn while you’re working.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from my face. “What? You’re afraid of porn? After the way you’ve been defiling me for weeks?”

That signature smirk pulled at his lips, and he lowered his hand. Stepping closer, he leaned down to kiss me softly. “You never know. I’ve given you a taste, and you might be craving more. Next thing you know, I catch you watching full-on gang bangs. Or double penetration. Going down the porn rabbit hole can be very dangerous.”

A snort flew out my nose. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Well, since you won’t let me read your books, I have to garner inspiration elsewhere.” He pointed a finger at me. “But don’t get any ideas. No other men for you, young lady. If you need a second dick, it’ll have to be silicone, but that can be arranged.”

Slightly shocked but mildly intrigued, I nodded, musing, “Good to know.”

Braxton propped his hip against my desk. “I wanted to pop over before practice to see if you have a valid passport.”

My brows drew down. “Why do I need a passport?”

“It’s a yes or no question, Dakota.” He pretended to be annoyed, but the smile on his face told a different story. 

“Yes. Now tell me why you’re asking.”

He flashed me with a dazzling grin. “How would you feel about escaping the Connecticut cold and spending a few days soaking up the sun in the Caribbean?”

Leaning back in my chair, I stared at him. “I wasn’t aware there were hockey teams down there.”

“I’ve taught you well. You’re correct, there are not. But the All-Pro Break is coming up, and the guys—and by guys, I mean Cal, Jaxon, and Benji—have a yacht chartered. I guess some of them did it last year, too. They asked if I would come, and of course, you’re invited.”

It sounded amazing. If only I didn’t have a book launch in less than a month. 

Hiding my disappointment that the timing couldn’t be worse, I said, “I would love to go.” Braxton’s face lit up, but I cut him off before he got his hopes up. “But it’s crunch time for the book. I have too much work to do and can’t afford to take any time off.”

The smile slipped from his face, and he nodded in understanding. “Guess I have to bring out the big guns.”

“What?”

“It’s supposed to be a secret, but I trust you with my life.”

Oh my God, he was infuriating. “Are you going to talk in circles all day, or are you going to tell me?”

“From what I understand, there most likely will be a wedding while we are down there.”

“Who is getting married?” I ran through the list of possible candidates in my head.

“If I had to guess? Either Benji and Liv or Cal and Hannah. I wasn’t given any specifics. They’re keeping it close to the vest.”

I held up my hand. “Wait. You don’t even know? I feel like if Liv or Hannah were engaged, we’d know about it. We see them all the time.”

A corner of his lips turned up. “It’s a surprise.”

My eyes widened. “A surprise wedding? That’s kinda ballsy. Don’t most women spend the better part of a year planning?” Not that I would know. Bristol was my only girlfriend, and I didn’t have the advantage of a large family and weddings to attend growing up.

“It’s going to be a proposal with the wedding add-on being optional, is my understanding.”

I gaped at him. “And you seriously don’t know who?”

“My money is on Cal and Hannah. The kids aren’t coming, and Benji’s already got something public planned for Liv this week, so I doubt it’s them.”

“Pinch me.” I offered up my arm. When he eyed me, I shook it. “Seriously.”

Skeptically, he reached out, pulling my skin between his forefinger and thumb. I hissed, drawing back at the bite of pain. 

“Are you okay?” Braxton eyed me carefully.

“Uh-huh.” I rubbed the sore spot on my forearm. “Just making sure I’m not inside one of my books. Your little group has a thing for grand gestures, don’t they?”

He twisted his lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” I agreed. “I guess I’m not used to seeing men go out of their way to romance women in real life.”

Braxton knelt before me, taking my hands in his. “Get used to it. Because I will always go out of my way to make sure the whole world knows how much I love you.”

Butterflies filled my belly. This man was so damn sweet most days that it made my teeth ache. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Brown eyes filled with hope stared up at me. “Please come with me? Be my wedding date?”

I sighed. “I want to, baby, I do. But I’m on deadline.”

“You finished writing weeks ago. What more is there to do?”

“It’s cute that you think after getting the words on paper, it magically turns into a book,” I teased.

“Then tell me about it. How does it go from finished manuscript to published for distribution?”

“Ooh. Look at all those technical words.” I patted one of his cheeks.

“Seriously. I want to know about your job.” 

His words were sincere, and I relented. “Okay, well, it’s currently being passed from my editor to my proofreader. Then it’s up to me to accept all the changes and make a final pass of the manuscript.” Grumbling, I explained, “I swear, no matter how many eyes are on it, some tiny typo slips through, and it drives me bonkers.” I took a deep breath and continued, “Next, I have to format it to look good for both paperback and e-book versions. After that, I send it to my advanced readers for review before the official release. The final step is submission to the online booksellers so it’s ready on release day. And don’t forget marketing. That’s the most crucial part. If you write a book and no one knows it exists or ever reads it, did you even write it?”

Braxton gazed at me in awe. “I think it’s incredible how hard you work to make your dreams come true. How can I support you?”

I’d never been asked that question before and didn’t know how to respond. How did he always render me speechless?

“Um.” I struggled to find the words. “You can’t help in the physical process, but what you’re doing now, being an emotional support, is amazing. You send food when I’m working late while you’re on the road, you are content to sit beside me in bed as I type away, and you are always willing to take me out when I need a brain break. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Good.” He beamed back at me. “I’m thrilled I have a front-row seat to your career taking off.”

I shoved at his shoulder, blushing. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. I’ve got a long way to go.”

“Aw, come on, Firefly. You said it yourself. Hockey is all the rage right now in romance, right? I know that with your brilliant mind, you’re gonna catch a spark, and then nothing will be able to stop you from lighting up the literary world.”

His belief in me was more valuable than any physical gift he could give. And I had no idea what I’d done to deserve this incredible man. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his softly.

“Now, about that trip.” Braxton smiled against my mouth. I groaned at his persistence, and he cupped my face, keeping me close. “Tell me what you need to make it happen. What’s left on the list? The release date is at the end of the month, right? Three weeks?”

I nodded. “Accepting edits and final pass will take most of next week. Then, I have to format it before sending it to my early readers and working on marketing graphics. When is the trip?”

Sensing I was close to caving, he replied, “We leave on Thursday after practice. Private plane is set for takeoff at 3 PM.”

Chewing my lip, I ran it through my head. If I got the final file back sometime this weekend, I could run through most of the edits by Thursday. 

“Wi-Fi on the boat?” I asked. That point was vital.

A brilliant smile lit up Braxton’s face. “You bet. Does that mean you’re in?” The parts of his body touching mine vibrated with excitement.

“If I can be left alone long enough to get my formatting and graphics done, I think we can make it work and still have time to enjoy the trip.”

Letting out a whoop, Braxton jumped to his feet. Laughing at his response, I wanted to bottle this joy. It alone was a reason for living. 

Young and in love—was there anything better in this world?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 28

Braxton

Dakota was much more relaxed this time as we pulled up to the private airstrip outside of Hartford. Letting me handle her bags, we stepped onto the plane to find almost everyone else already on board. 

The core group was all there—Natalie and Jaxon, Liam and Amy, Lucy and Preston, and Benji and Liv. The only ones missing were Cal and Hannah. 

I ushered Dakota toward a pair of open seats, and we had barely sat down when I heard the voice of the one woman who loved to make an entrance call out, “Who’s ready for the party plane?” Hannah came into view, holding up two bottles of champagne. She was ridiculous and over-the-top, but she owned it.

If I was right and this weekend was about her, it would be one hell of a bachelorette party.

She passed off the bottles to the flight attendant before pointing at each of her friends, including Dakota. “Listen up, bitches. We are on vacation. The babies are all at home. I don’t want to hear any excuses.” She paused, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed before reopening them. “And I swear to God, if somebody even mentions a pregnancy test this weekend, I’m throwing you overboard. Got it?”

Peeking around, I saw the women nodding in agreement. What was the deal with the pregnancy test? Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“Good.” Hannah plopped down in the seat across the aisle from us. 

Cal appeared at the front of the plane, spotting his girl and stalking toward her. Bending at the waist, he gripped her chin in one of his large hands. “You behaving?”

Smirking, she raised her chin as her blue eyes flared, the combination signaling she was rearing up to be defiant. “Never.”

A growl worked its way up his chest. “Guess you’re lucky I’m in a good mood. You might just escape punishment this time.”

“That’s too bad.” Hannah pushed her lower lip out in a pout. “I’ll have to find a new way to earn one.”

Without warning, Cal lifted Hannah, sliding her into the window seat before taking the aisle seat for himself. 

Dakota leaned into my side, practically panting. “That was kinda hot.”

Stunned, I turned my focus back to the woman accompanying me on this trip. The fire in her eyes had my cock thickening behind the fly of my jeans. Nipping at her lower lip, I teased, “Then I guess it’s too bad you have work to do before we can play.”

Eyes narrowing at the threat that I might withhold sex until she finished her appointed tasks, her lips curved up and she shifted her gaze to the couple across the aisle. “Can’t stop thinking about how he’s pierced . . .” Dakota threw a pointed look at Cal’s crotch. “Down there.”

Shocked, I swallowed my own damn saliva, choking and coughing, drawing the attention of everyone seated around us, including the man in question, who apparently had a pierced dick.

Cal slapped my back, and I managed to take a deep breath.

Surveying me with ice-blue eyes, he asked, “You all right there, man?”

Nodding, I swallowed a few times, my throat scratchy from coughing violently. “Fine,” I croaked out.

Dakota slid her hand over my forearm, addressing Cal, “He’ll be right as rain as soon as we reach our destination. The dry winter air is rough on his throat.”

I cut my eyes to her but remained silent. Oh, she was a little vixen, and it would take all my self-control to keep my hands to myself until she completed her administrative checklist. 

Cal sat back down, quickly becoming preoccupied with Hannah beside him. That woman was more than two handfuls, but he was fully up to the task. 

Dakota slid her hand over my thigh, drawing my attention back to her. The smirk on her face and the sparkle in her sapphire eyes had my heart swelling inside my chest. The love for this funny, intelligent, beautiful girl consumed me and made life worth living.

The engines turned on, drowning out any chatter inside the cabin. Speaking directly in my ear, Dakota said, “Sorry, babe. Figured you already knew. Since you guys all shower together.” Pausing, she kissed my jaw. “Or is that another stereotype I need correction on?”

I pinched her side, and her squeal split the air. Happiness with this girl wasn’t a question; it was a guarantee. I owed Bristol a thank-you gift for bringing Dakota into my life. If it weren’t for her, I would still be miserable, shuffling along, worried about factors I couldn’t control impacting my mental state. Dakota had changed all that, and I eagerly anticipated the future for the first time in my life.

Pressing my lips against the shell of her ear, I replied, “Not a stereotype, but there’s an unspoken rule that you don’t look at another man’s junk.”

Dakota pulled back enough to shoot me with a doubtful expression. “Yeah, and I’m sure no one’s eyes have ever wandered . . . Especially if someone caught a glint of silver.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. “I can honestly say I’ve never been tempted. But to answer your question, Cal and I were never on the team at the same time. He retired at the end of last season before I signed my contract. So, no, I didn’t know. And I’ll probably never be able to look at the man the same way ever again.”

Her giggles were music to my ears, and I pulled her close as the plane taxied down the runway in preparation for takeoff. Peeking around to the other couples fully absorbed in each other as the crew prepared the cabin, I couldn’t help but feel joy. Everyone had found the one person who not only complemented them perfectly but brought out the best in them, myself included. 

Life couldn’t get any better than this. Of that, I was convinced. 

Landing in Puerto Rico, we were shuttled to a dock where the yacht, Shine Brighter, awaited our arrival. According to Jaxon, this was the same boat they’d chartered a year ago. 

The sun had set long ago, but the crew was ready to greet us with champagne before escorting us to our cabins. Even though the party size had doubled from the last trip, they assured us that there were still plenty of empty cabins. 

In this group, Dakota and I were hands down the furthest down the line in terms of seniority, so we were likely assigned the sixth-best room available. But when the steward opened the door, I was shocked at the size of our cabin. 

Easily larger than either of our bedrooms back home, it had a queen-sized bed in the middle, a large glass window along the exterior wall, and an ensuite bathroom. It would be a long time before I could afford anything like this trip myself, so I was going to enjoy it with my girl.

There would come a time when I could spoil her rotten, but knowing her, she would hate that. Simple gestures and soft-spoken words of love made her come alive. No matter how my career evolved, we would be rich in the love we shared. 

Changing out of our travel clothes, we met with the rest of the group for dinner beneath the stars. The chatter was lively, and it was noted more than once how peaceful it was without constant interruption from children. I knew they all loved their kids, but there were no days off from being a parent. I was learning so much from my brother, his wife, and their friends about how to make time for your relationship. 

They had found the perfect balance. I would definitely be taking notes for the future. 

Even though I was preoccupied with the open displays of love surrounding us, I noticed Dakota shifting restlessly in her seat beside me throughout dinner. Leaning over, I asked, “You okay?”

Tugging her lips between her teeth, her blue eyes darkened, and she shook her head slightly.

Concerned, I slid my chair closer to hers. “What is it? Do you want to go back to the room?”

Dropping her gaze, she whispered, “Being under the stars has me thinking of us by the lake.”

That was all I needed to hear. I stood so quickly that my chair toppled behind me, and everyone stopped talking to stare. 

Dakota bit back a smile beside me, but Jaxon raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right?”

My mind raced, trying to find a way to play this off so I didn’t look like a lunatic or, more accurately, like I couldn’t wait to tear Dakota’s dress off with my teeth. Stretching both arms over my head, I let out a loud yawn. “Yeah, just tired. Long day. Think we’re gonna turn in.”

Hannah snickered. “Sure. Turning in early to sleep.” The ladies laughed in response, and Dakota’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, pulling back Dakota’s chair and helping her up. 

“Night, everyone,” she said, her eyes trained on the floor. 

There was a chorus of “good nights,” and I tugged her toward the doors leading to the yacht’s interior. Just as we reached them, Hannah called out, “Dakota, don’t forget to take Baby Braxton’s virginity tonight!”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Spinning around slowly, I faced the group. Every head was turned in our direction. 

“Not sure that’s possible, Hannah.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Of course, it is. I took Cal’s.”

I gawked at her before sliding my gaze to Cal, who merely rolled his eyes at her latest antics. “Excuse me?”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you let some Minnesotan lake hussy pop your cherry.”

“That’s not any of your business.” 

All eyes volleyed between me and Hannah, watching our exchange. Dakota’s body vibrated by my side, and a brief glance betrayed that she was holding back laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” I asked her under my breath.

Before she could reply, Lucy shouted, “She wants to know if you’ve ever fucked on a boat before!”

Natalie covered her face with her hands, and Liam’s turned red, but the rest of them burst out laughing. 

My jaw dropped, and it clicked that as soon as I brought a girl home, they’d sucked me in from the fringe and made me a fully-fledged member of their tight-knit group. And apparently, it was a lot livelier than they let on.

“That would be a no,” I declared as the laughter began to settle.

Dakota squeezed my hand, pulling me inside, but not before throwing over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, guys, I’ll make sure to ease in nice and slow! Lots of lube!”

There were cheers behind us, and I could have sworn I heard Benji say, “I definitely like her.”

The sliding glass door shut behind us, and I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now, Firefly,” I growled in her ear.

“Promise?” I could hear the smile in her voice. 

Fuck. I couldn’t love this girl any more if I tried.

The following day, we ported in Jamaica, and it became clear that Cal and Hannah were the ones who would hopefully say their vows this weekend. They took off early on a hike, and then all anyone could talk about was whether Hannah would agree to a record-breaking twenty-four-hour engagement before saying “I do” with the ocean as the perfect romantic backdrop. 

Dakota spent hours hidden away in our cabin with her laptop, working hard while everyone else played. The other ladies spent the morning shopping, enjoying the calm before the storm. The guys were content to lounge around, soaking in the sun. 

After lunch, I snuck into our room, whispering, “I’m not here. Just came to grab more sunscreen.”

Closing her laptop, Dakota declared, “All done!”

My eyebrows rose, and excitement coursed through my veins. “Really?”

Nodding, she climbed across the bed, reaching for me. “Formatting’s all done, and the book is officially in the hands of the advanced readers. I should have several reviews by the time we get home and know if I hit the mark.”

I stepped closer to her. “That’s great, baby. It’s going to be amazing. I know it.”

She chewed her lower lip. “I hope so.”

Using my thumb, I pulled that lip free from her teeth. “Like any artist, you are your own worst critic. But don’t worry, I have faith enough for the both of us.”

Dakota rolled her eyes. “Blind faith, considering I’ve never let you read my writing.” She paused. “Well, outside of that snippet you read over my shoulder.”

Sliding my fingers into her curls, I tugged her head back and slanted my mouth over hers. Against her lips, I whispered, “That’s how much I believe in you.”

She hummed. “You must really love me.”

“More than anything in this world.” It was God's honest truth. Nothing mattered more than her. 

Sliding my tongue into her mouth, I claimed it. She was my drug of choice. I would never get enough. 

Breaking free once she was breathless in my arms, I asked, “You eat yet?”

“The crew brought me a tray a little while ago.” She teased my scalp with her fingernails. 

“Good. Then you won’t mind if I have a little snack while you watch.”

“What?”

My hands moved to the back of her thighs and pulled, flipping her onto her back on the bed. Kneeling on the floor, I pushed her skirt up her legs. This trip had me yearning for spring and summer to hurry the hell up so I could have easy access like this at all times. Hooking my fingers into the waistband of her silk panties, I eased them down her creamy thighs, allowing her to kick them off once they reached her ankles. 

The scent of her arousal reached my nostrils, and I groaned. We already knew it was enough for me to lose my mind. It was as if she was imprinted on my brain. I was hard-wired to need her so desperately that I would do almost anything to claim her. 

Dipping my head, I flattened my tongue, licking her from entrance to clit as she moaned. Her unique flavor coated my taste buds, and I hummed in appreciation. “My favorite snack.”

A hand found my head, gripping my hair and placing it exactly where she wanted me. Dakota breathed out, “Less talking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  

The time for talking over, I ate that delicious pussy until she was screaming my name so loud that everyone on board knew who she belonged to.

Dakota joined the rest of us on deck in a purple string bikini that barely contained the swells of her breasts. The ladies were perched on a tanning pad situated on the bow of the yacht while the guys relaxed on chairs, taking in the view of the women they loved. 

A deckhand approached to take Dakota’s drink order. She asked for a margarita, and I smiled, glad it was time to relax and enjoy our first official vacation together. 

Before the young guy in his early twenties, dressed in a white polo and khaki shorts, could make it two steps away, Amy called out, “Change it to water. And a round for everyone.”

Ducking his head to signal he understood, he scurried off. 

When Dakota looked at Amy in question, she explained, “Either way this goes, we’re in for a wild night. Best to hydrate now so you’re not paying for it tomorrow.”

Preston chimed in. “She’s right. Lucy got completely wasted at Amy’s bachelorette. I can only imagine Hannah’s will be ten times wilder.”

Lucy smirked at her husband. “This time, I expect to be properly taken advantage of, no matter my level of intoxication.” She huffed out a sigh. “Mama needs a night to cut loose.”

Standing, Preston pressed a kiss to her lips, whispering, “Yes, Princess.”

Liam grumbled beside me. “Keep it in your pants, man.”

Preston winked at his best friend and brother-in-law. “We both know your sister is no saint. Just dealing with the hand I was dealt.” His eyes roved over his wife’s petite form. “And what a hand it was.”

Before Liam could shoot back another reply, Hannah’s voice reached us from the dock. “I’m getting married tomorrow!”

Natalie sat up, clapping her hands. “All right, everyone, man your battle stations. Girls are in town for dinner and dancing. Guys are staying on board. Time to get showered and dressed.”

Groaning in unison, we were reluctant to leave this lazy day behind but knew we’d come down here for a reason. 

Tomorrow, Cal and Hannah would tie the knot.

With Liv adamant that she didn’t need a legal marriage to be a family with Benji and their son, Knox, all eyes would turn to me and Dakota. We were the last couple standing without a formal commitment—the last pieces of the puzzle.

As we shuffled to our cabins to prepare for the rowdy night ahead, I began to wonder how and when I would ask Dakota to marry me. I knew one thing—I didn’t want to wait.

Drinks in hand, the six of us men sat on the deck playing poker. It was only a matter of time before Cal caved and we went in search of the girls, but for now, we were letting them have their girl time. I’d heard over the years that they took their girls’ nights very seriously. 

Benji dealt another round of cards, but Liam barely glanced at his before declaring, “Fold.”

Jaxon nudged him. “What is so interesting on your phone?”

“Baby monitor,” Liam replied, his eyes transfixed on the screen.

Preston scoffed. “Seriously, dude. You’ve got issues. You’re watching that kid sleep more intently than you probably ever watched porn.”

“Watch your mouth,” Liam snapped at him. “You don’t mention my son and porn in the same breath. Got it?”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Preston rolled his eyes.

Jaxon ribbed him. “They’re all sweet and innocent when they’re babies. The next thing you know, they’re bringing home a spelling test from school, and their spelling of the word come is c-u-m.”

I spit out my drink, spraying the table as the rest of the men—minus Liam—roared in laughter. 

Cal chuckled. “I mean, he’s not wrong. Depends on the context.”

“Nat almost had a stroke.” Jaxon smiled. “But Jameson and I burst out laughing. Poor Beau kept asking us what was so funny. Having a teenage son is going to be so much fun.”

Benji was a shit-stirrer and turned his attention back to Liam. “So, what’s the plan? Shelter that little guy so much that someday you have to hire a hooker to take his virginity? He’s going to turn into one of those socially awkward kids who can’t talk to people. That’s gonna be a great look on a king.”

Liam rubbed at his eye sockets with his fingers. “He’s four months old. Can we cool it?”

“Put the phone down, and we’ll stop,” Preston said. “Amy has the patience of a saint, but it’s still a wonder she hasn’t killed you yet.”

Jaxon smirked. “You know, if she ever needs a place to hide, our house is always open.”

“Don’t remind me,” Liam muttered. Huffing, he set his phone down on the table. “I’m not going to apologize for taking care of my family.” 

“There’s a difference between caring for your family and smothering them. Let them breathe, man.” Jaxon slid the phone further away for emphasis.

A growl rumbled in Liam’s chest, but he picked up the cards and played the hand he’d previously folded. 

After another hour, Cal drained his drink, slamming the glass down on the table as he stood, declaring, “I’m done sitting around. Time to track down the girls.”

There wasn’t one word of argument from the men around the table. 

As we all joined Cal on our feet, Benji said, “I’ve got one hundred bucks that says Liam has a tracker on Amy that will lead us straight to them.”

Liam glared at Benji. “It’s called security, jackass, and it’s for her safety.” He turned to his brother-in-law, shooting him a pointed look. “Isn’t that right, Preston?”

Preston mumbled something under his breath, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Cal threw his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Soooo, you know where they are, then?”

Rolling his eyes, Liam sighed. “Yes.”

Letting out a cheer, we headed out to meet up with our girls, who were more than likely halfway to drunk.

It was gonna be a good night.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 29

Dakota

“So, as she’s lying there, the husband has the nerve to ask the doctor if he can put in a ‘husband stitch’.” Liv was regaling us with some of the more outrageous stories from working as a labor and delivery nurse. 

Every mother seated around the high-top table at the bar we’d found ourselves in after dinner groaned. I wasn’t sure what a husband stitch was, but I was betting it wasn’t good.

Liv continued, “No joke. The doctor—a male doctor, I might add—looks this joker dead in the eye and, with a straight face, gives him the recommendation for a surgeon who specializes in penile enlargements if he’s concerned about the fit postpartum.”

The laughs torn from our throats were so loud they rose over the music, and every person in the bar turned to stare at us. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I wiped them away furiously. 

Wheezing, Liv slapped the table. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep a straight face when he said that, and the dad’s jaw dropped. He really thought the doc was gonna do him a solid.”

Natalie smirked, swaying to the music in her seat. “The first time I met this one”—she threw a thumb in my direction—“Jaxon made it crystal clear how unnecessary an extra stitch would be.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned, covering my flaming face. “I almost forgot about that.” Nudging Braxton’s sister-in-law with my shoulder, I teased her back. “As appalled as you were at Jaxon for sharing that info, you gave Braxton and me extremely graphic details about how wide everything was stretched out when you had Max.” My nose wrinkled at the memory, and I wondered if maybe all doped up, she had exaggerated a touch. 

Eyes flying wide, she gasped. “No, I didn’t!”

“Oh, you so did.” I nodded in confirmation.

Hugging me around the shoulders, she sighed. “Oh, poor Braxton.”

Sliding out of her embrace, I widened my eyes. “Poor Braxton? Poor me!”

Hannah visibly shuddered on my other side. “Okay, that’s enough. I cannot believe we are discussing my worst-nightmare scenarios during my bachelorette party. You guys used to be fun! What the hell happened?”

“We became moms.” Lucy shrugged.

Gesturing wildly around the room, Hannah demanded, “Look around you! The kids aren’t here! Forget about them for one freaking night! I’m begging you.”

Natalie grumbled, “Not so easy to forget them when I’ll be up half the night pumping and dumping after how much I’ve had to drink. Right, Amy?” She turned to the only redhead of the group.

Amy’s eyes shifted, and she swallowed. “Uh, yeah. Right.”

Hannah halted everything. “Wait a minute, what the hell was that?”

“Nothing?” Amy avoided her gaze.

Circling her finger in Amy’s face, she challenged, “Oh, no. It was something, all right. I’ve known you more than half your life, and you’re the worst liar I know. Which works out pretty well for you because I can count the number of times you’ve lied in all that time on one hand.” Hannah went silent for a moment, studying Amy, then her eyes flew wide, and she gasped, mouth hanging open before she recovered enough to say, “No way!”

Liv seemed as lost as me, so I asked her, “What just happened?”

She shook her head. “No clue, but I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”

Hannah placed both hands on the table to steady herself. “Are you’re telling me that strait-laced Liam is sucking the milk out of those titties tonight?”

Natalie’s head whipped to the side as she gawked at Amy. “No. Tell me that’s not true.”

Amy simply hung her head, and the rest of the girls started squealing. This might be hands down the most ridiculous bachelorette party I would ever attend, and I was loving every second of it. 

There were clearly no secrets between these women; if there were, it wasn’t long before they were exposed. But at the same time, there was zero judgment. That was the best part about their dynamic.

Hannah slung an arm around my shoulder as she held a hand up, silencing the table. “Ladies, it’s only fair we defer to the expert here.”

“Who, me?” I pointed to my chest.

“Yes, you. I can only imagine in your research, you’ve uncovered all manner of fetishes and kinks that people enjoy. Does that”—she waved her hand in front of Amy’s cleavage—“really get people off?”

Folding my lips, I tried so hard to bite back a smile. With every eye trained on me, I released a breath. “No comment.”

The ladies went wild once more as Amy’s cheeks turned so pink it was noticeable even in the dim lighting. 

Hannah struggled to breathe, forcing out between gasps of air, “The only thing. That would make this better. Would be if. You’ve started. Calling him. Daddy!”

That’s when I lost it, placing my forehead on the sticky table as I laughed until my sides were sore. 

Lucy recovered enough to muse, “This would be so much better if you weren’t married to my brother.”

“Cheers.” Natalie’s voice reached my ears, accompanied by the sound of glasses being slammed together. 

Sucking in deep breaths of air, I finally raised my head. Feeling bad for Amy, I changed the subject, raising my drink. “To Hannah! She’s getting married!”

“Hells yes!” She jumped up and down in her seat. The silver lettering of the sash she wore, reading, I’m the Bride, Bitch, caught in the overhead lighting with her movement.

All six of our glasses connected over the middle of the table as we toasted the bride-to-be.

Natalie peered at me over the edge of her cocktail. “And then there was one.”

Uh oh. Somehow, I’d found my way onto the hot seat.

She declared, “Those Slate boys know what they want. Won’t be long before it’s your turn.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I busied myself playing with a napkin.

“We all fought it. Some more than others.” She nudged Lucy, who smiled. “But it feels sooooo good when you finally give in.”

Lucy confirmed, “It’s true.”

I sighed. “It just seems . . . a little fast, don’t you think? We’ve only been dating for a little over three months. And we’re still so young.” I was throwing out excuses, not ready to share that Braxton already had our entire future planned out in his head.

A determined gleam entered Natalie’s chocolate brown eyes, and she glanced at her ladies. “We’re going to go around the table, and everyone will share how long it was between when they started dating their spouse and when they married them. It’s time to prove to Dakota that the timing doesn’t matter. When you find the one, you know, and there’s no point in wasting any more time.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I’ll go first.” But when she opened her mouth to speak again, she paused. “Hmm. This could be tricky.”

Hannah showed her best friend no mercy. “Why? Because he knocked you up before you dated him?”

Natalie cringed. “A little bit.” She blew out a breath so heavy it lifted her blonde bangs. “Okay, well, we can play this both ways, then. Either will work for our purposes. If we are going from when we conceived Charlie to when we were married, it was just shy of a year. If we are going from when we mutually decided to embark on a relationship, it was six months.”

Amy went next. “Not sure mine technically counts since it wasn’t real at the start, but from the time between Liam proposing and us getting married, it was two weeks? Give or take.” She held up a finger. “Now, he did propose a second time, and we got formally remarried, and that time gap was eleven months, I think?”

“Mine was strange too,” Lucy remarked. “Considering we were forced into a courtship and engagement. But from when we developed feelings? Less than eight months.”

“It would seem we are all a little unorthodox.” Liv chuckled. “Can’t really count our first go around since we spent so much time apart. And having no intention of getting married, I will count what he did the other night as a public declaration of our commitment to each other.”

She was referring to the game a few nights before our trip, where Benji had surprised her by changing his last name to hers, which their son also shared. It was a super sweet moment, and the crowd had eaten it up.

“That makes it seven months for us, then,” Liv said.

Hannah’s laughter rose over the music. “You know what they say, saving the best for last! Cal and I went exclusive last December, but it wasn’t until this trip last year that we defined our relationship. So, a year. The longest of anyone yet. However, I do win shortest engagement.” She pointed at Amy. “Didn’t think anyone would beat you on that one, did you?”

Amy’s brilliant green eyes sparkled with love for her best friend. “If there’s anyone I have to hand that crown over to, I’m glad it’s you.”

Smirking, Hannah shot back, “I see what you did there with the crown reference. Very clever, Ames.”

“So,” Natalie interjected. “As you can see, everyone at this table is either happily married or firmly committed to their partner. Sure, we all got there in different ways, but the point is that when you find that person, the one that completes you in ways you didn’t even know you needed, the timeline doesn’t matter. Do what makes you both happy. And I’ve never seen Braxton so relaxed and carefree. You light up his world and ease the burdens that weigh on him.”

Blushing, I ducked my head. “He makes me pretty happy too.”

Grabbing my hand, she squeezed. “Then focus on that and trust everything will happen when it’s meant to. Took me too long to realize that myself.”

Hannah was restless, shifting in her seat and whining, “Can we be done with the mushy stuff for a while? Please? This is my last night as a single woman, and I fully intend to enjoy it!” She glared at her companions. “I’m still upset we couldn’t find a male strip club on this island!”

Lucy smirked. “Who needs a strip club? We’ve got six guys wrapped around our fingers. Guaranteed, each of us will get a private strip show tonight.”

Hannah chewed on her lip, considering that fact, and nodded sharply. “You know what? You’re right.” Pushing off her chair, a wicked grin curved on her face. “I’m off to find a random to dance with. Cal catches a glimpse of that, and he’ll fuck me into next week. Shit, maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll have a limp when I walk down the aisle tomorrow.”

Liv called out to her back, “How do you know he’s coming?”

Peeking over her shoulder, she winked. “Oh, he’ll be here. Just a matter of when.”

Spinning around, Liv mused, “She’s awfully confident.”

Amy tilted her head toward the door. “Yeah, but she’s not wrong.”

We all turned to look. Sure enough, our six guys had just stepped inside. 

Lucy stood. “Well, it’s not as fun when they don’t have to work for it. I’m off to dance, ladies. See you out there.”

We slipped into the crowd one by one, weaving between bodies, creating a scavenger hunt for our men. 

Throwing my head back, I let the music wash over me, the heavy beats heating my blood in anticipation of the moment Braxton found me. Hips swaying, I trailed my fingers over my torso, letting the rhythm carry me away. 

Strong hands clasped over mine, pulling me back into a hard chest. I knew without looking it was Braxton. His woodsy scent cut through the stench of sweaty bodies surrounding us. 

“You owe me a dance,” he whispered darkly in my ear.

When I turned in his arms, his hands slid to my ass, hauling me against his erection. 

“Is that so?” I arched an eyebrow, rubbing against him.

Dropping his forehead to mine, we breathed the same air as he said, “I asked you for one the night we met after you refused to tell me your name. Turned me down flat.”

“Hmm.” I hummed against his lips. “Don’t know what I was thinking. Severe lapse in judgment.”

“So.” Braxton smiled as I looped my arms around his neck. “Does that mean I can have this dance?”

Tugging his lower lip with my teeth until he hissed, I released it. “Make it worth my while,” I teased, shimmying my hips.

A rumble vibrated through his chest, and I was spun around in a flash. Surprised, I dropped my hold on him, but Braxton was quick to slide my arms up and over my head to lock around his neck as he pressed into me from behind. His fingers sparked fire over my skin on the way back down, pausing to tease the outside curve of my breasts before gripping my hips tightly and grinding his hard-on into my ass.

My moan was lost in the crowded space, full of other couples dancing just as provocatively. Everyone was in their own little world. No one paid any attention to us. 

I almost wished they would.

I shifted restlessly in Braxton’s grasp, my body heating, seeking relief. Arousal burned beneath my skin, and I became desperate, taking Braxton’s right hand and sliding it between my thighs. In the mini-dress Lucy loaned me, it was a miracle I hadn’t flashed someone yet. The material was barely long enough to cover my ass. 

Braxton’s lips latched onto my neck, skimming softly, driving me insane as a single finger dipped beneath the hem of my dress. My panties were soaked, and I gasped when he rubbed my clit over them, the friction almost unbearable. I was wound so tight that it wouldn’t take more than a few touches before I combusted in front of all these people.

My eyes caught on a sight across the room. Hannah straddled Cal as he sat on a bench facing the dance floor. She was riding him hard as his fingers dug into the vinyl seat beside his thighs. They were both still fully clothed, at least from what I could tell from this angle. Hannah’s dress was as short as mine, and we all knew men didn’t need to remove their pants to release their cocks. It was possible that I was watching them have very public sex, and damn if the thought didn’t have my blood boiling.

Teeth tugged on my earlobe. “It would seem my Firefly likes to watch as much as she likes the idea of being watched.”

Dropping my head against his chest, I moaned, never taking my eyes off Cal and Hannah. 

“What do you say, baby?” Braxton’s breathing grew labored in my ear. “I get you off while you watch them get off?”

It was a filthy proposition, but I couldn’t deny how turned on I was watching the other couple. They weren’t strangers on a computer screen. They were our friends. It was wrong to spy on their intimate moment, using it to heighten our own. 

Then why does it feel so good?

Braxton took my silence as confirmation, circling over my clit with his fingers. Voice rough, he whispered, “Tell me if you want to stop at any point.”

There it was. Even in our reckless abandon, Braxton was looking out for my comfort, my safety, above all else. He couldn’t be more perfect if he tried.

Shifting my hips, I gave over my power to him as I spied on our friends across the bar. Hannah threw her head back, her long caramel hair floating down her back, as she rocked violently over Cal’s lap. There was no way of knowing if she was riding his cock or simply dry humping him, but both mental images had me panting in Braxton’s arms as his fingers moved faster between my thighs. 

Cal finally released his grip on the seat, digging his fingers into Hannah’s hips so hard her cry floated over the crowd, though no one turned their heads to stare—no one except us, who were already watching with rapt fascination, surrounded in our own lust. Cal took over their movements, practically shaking the woman atop him. 

Heat pooled between my thighs, taking me higher and higher, watching the scene play out before us. My back bowed as my muscles tightened, right on the edge. Like a perfectly synchronized symphony, my orgasm crashed over me at the exact moment Hannah’s body grew taut with a tremor so violent I could see it across the room working its way over her muscles. 

Sucking in a sharp breath, I gave myself over to the pleasure, my eyes slamming shut as I reveled in the sensations. Who knew it felt so good to be naughty? I never knew I had it in me.

“Show’s over.” Braxton’s fingers slowed, easing me down as I struggled to remain upright.

Eyes popping open, I watched Cal lift Hannah into his arms and walk away. Breathing heavily, I still couldn’t believe we just did that.

“But what a show it was.” I could hear the smile in Braxton’s breathy voice. “Time for me to take you home and make love to you under the stars, beautiful.”

On shaky legs, I turned in his arms, anchoring my hands on his shoulders. A corner of my lips turned up at his suggestion. 

“Just how I like it.”

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Chapter 30

Dakota

Hannah and Cal’s wedding had been spectacular. Not only were they two of the most gorgeous people I’d ever seen in real life, but their looks of love only served to make them look even more stunning. With Hannah wearing a custom-made gown of Lucy’s creation, they said their vows on the bow of the yacht as the sun set on a perfect day, with their family and friends flown in as witnesses. 

That had been a week ago now, and even though I had a tan as a souvenir, the harsh New England winter made it seem like a distant memory. 

With the Comets on a road trip, I found myself distracted, spending far too much time staring at the new screensaver on my phone. It was a picture taken on the night of the wedding. Braxton wore a tan-colored suit, and I was tucked against his side in a tropical print dress. Hannah had wanted a casual look for her big day and wouldn’t take no for an answer in her demand that each member of our small group stand by their side as they said, “I do.” 

Thankfully, with my writing complete and files uploaded to my self-publishing platform, I didn’t feel guilty for spending hours on my phone, either scrolling through the pictures from our trip, texting Braxton, or even engaging in phone sex. We couldn’t get enough of each other, even from two-thousand miles away. 

I decided after the book launched that I would take a well-deserved break. I’d been pushing hard for years, releasing at least five books a year. If I wasn’t careful, I feared I would burn out. Putting my head down and working hard hadn’t bothered me in the past. Probably because I hadn’t had much of a life outside of the fictional ones I created. 

But now? I wanted to enjoy life with Braxton. 

Pulling out my planner, I marked out the dates the Comets would be on the road until the end of the season. Their record was good enough for the playoffs for now, but they had seven weeks to go. Braxton had warned me that anything could happen during that time, and they couldn’t afford to take their foot off the gas. Regardless of what the future held for the team past April, I was determined to only work when they were gone. When they were at home, I would ease my way into the hockey girlfriend role, supporting him at games and helping him relax in the times in between. It sounded like a good plan, in theory. I guess we would see how it worked in practice. 

It was hard to believe my world had been completely flipped upside down by stepping into that dark basement on a muggy September night. But as time went on, it only confirmed the belief that my personal guardian angel had been guiding my hand, putting me in the exact right place at the right time to meet the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. 

A tear rolled down my cheek even though I was happier than I’d ever been. I knew she was up there watching, but I wished I could share this overwhelming joy, my excitement, with my mom. I wanted to share those secrets with her, get her advice, and have her be the first call I made after milestone moments for the rest of our lives. 

I would have to settle for knowing she had the best seat in the house up in Heaven. 

Pressing my fingers to my lips, I blew her a kiss and thanked her for the millionth time for sending Braxton to me. 

Holding the proof copy of my book, Sticks and Shadows, I turned it over in my hands. The cover was beautifully done, picturing an empty arena with a spotlight shining on the shadow of a player. Clutching the book to my chest, I smiled, thinking of how Noah and Kenzie’s story had changed since I first began writing it. What had started as a hot and heavy romance turned into a beautiful love story.

I didn’t care if I sold a single copy. This book came from the heart—my heart. It would forever be my greatest work of art, regardless of how the readers viewed it. And a copy would be placed alongside the card I’d saved from the roses Braxton sent, promising our future together. I would cherish this story for the rest of my life. 

Now, it was time to share it with the world.

“Dakota!” Bristol’s loud voice was accompanied by what could only be her fists pounding on my bedroom door.

Rolling over, I checked the time on my phone, groaning when I discovered it wasn’t even 6 AM. What the hell was Bristol even doing up at this hour? She went out of her way to avoid early classes. 

“Go away,” I grumbled into my pillow.

“Wake up, Dakota!” The banging on my door increased.

Heaving a sigh, I rubbed my eyes. 

This had better be good. 

Throwing my Comets hoodie over my sleep tank to ward off the chill, I stumbled to the door, unlocking it. 

Bristol burst into the room, eyes wild. Gripping my shoulders, she shook me violently. “You did it!”

Smacking her hands away, my voice was still scratchy from sleep. “I can barely see straight this early in the morning. You’re going to need to be more specific than that.”

Brushing past me, she grabbed my phone from the nightstand and shoved it into my hand. “Check your socials. You’re blowing up!”

I tried to process what she was telling me. “What?”

“The book! It’s gone viral!”

Her words finally broke through my groggy brain, and I jolted, now wide awake. “No,” I breathed out, not daring to believe it.

Bristol smirked, tapping at her own phone as I was too afraid to look at mine. Shoving it in my face, she showed my follower count had grown by ten thousand overnight, and the number of mentions I had was triple that.

“Guess people dig a damaged hero. Who knew?” She threw her arms around me where I stood, still in shock.

“But—” My chest grew tight, and breathing became difficult as reality set in. “How? It’s only been three days since it released.”

Bristol’s smile grew so wide that there were no doubts my best friend was my biggest cheerleader. It gave her joy to see me succeed. “You caught your spark.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and she pulled me in for a hug. I’d worked so hard for so long that this almost didn’t seem real. I always hoped it might happen someday, but it had seemed like a dream just out of reach. 

That this story was the one? It made this even more special.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered into my hair.

Tightening my grasp on my best friend, all I could think about was how excited Braxton would be when I surprised him with this news when he got home. 

The sound of the cork popping on a bottle of champagne filled our kitchen as Bristol cheered. We weren’t fancy enough to own the stemware required for such a drink, so she poured a healthy serving of the bubbly liquid into plastic cups. 

Tapping her cup to mine, she toasted, “To my best friend, the best seller!”

We both gave a giddy squeal and then downed the champagne. 

After she’d woken me up this morning, I went into the back office of my publishing platform and about fell out of my chair. The royalty amount was staggering, and I found myself addicted to hitting the refresh button, watching as orders and digital page reads continued to skyrocket. By mid-afternoon, my book had climbed the online book charts and was currently sitting at number one. 

This was a dream I never wanted to wake up from. My hard work had finally paid off, and it only took falling in love myself to find the right story to resonate with readers. 

It was our story, forever immortalized in print.

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Chapter 31

Braxton

I was dying to get back to Dakota after eleven days spent on the road. The Comets had hit all three teams in California—the Bridgers, the Cougars, and the Surf—and then done a stint in the desert to play the Las Vegas Luck and the Phoenix Pythons.

Our trip to the Caribbean had been incredible, and it sucked that we had to leave the day after our return. I couldn’t wait to curl up with her this afternoon on a well-deserved day off.

It was daybreak when the team plane landed in Hartford, and even though I’d showered post-game in Phoenix, I needed to stop by my place for fresh clothes. Once I got to Dakota’s place, I wasn’t leaving for a solid twenty-four hours. 

I didn’t care what we did so long as we were together. Maybe we’d have a lazy day watching movies in her bedroom, making love when the mood struck, and ordering take-out for every meal. Sounded like a perfect day.

Honestly, every day with Dakota was perfect, each one better than the last.

Running into the house I shared with Levi and Blake, I bounded up the stairs, throwing whatever clean clothes I could find into a duffle bag. Most nights the team was home, I spent at her place, so I threw in more than what I would need for one day. The team was home for a week, and I wasn’t going to waste a second of the time we had together before I had to leave again. 

Jogging down the steps, I stopped in the kitchen to grab an iced coffee from the fridge. Usually, I could sleep on a red-eye flight back from the West Coast, but I was so amped up at the prospect of getting back to my girl that I’d stayed awake. The exhaustion was beginning to hit now, and I didn’t want to spend the first few hours of our reunion passed out on her couch.

Turning, I about jumped out of my skin when I found Levi perched on a stool at the kitchen island, reading a book.

“Fuck!” I shouted, throwing a hand over my racing heart. “Where did you come from?”

Peering over the pages, he scoffed. “Been here the whole time. Not my fault you’re unaware of your surroundings.”

I plucked at the cover of the book he held. “Didn’t take you for the type to read. I mean, do you even know how?”

Closing the book, he laid it down on the island. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Funny thing about books,” he mused. “Sometimes, the right story can really suck you in.”

“Uh-huh.” Whatever he was getting at, I wasn’t in the mood. My girl was waiting for me.

Rolling my eyes at Levi, I was halfway out of the kitchen when he called out, “You might want to check this one out for yourself. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this hero was you.”

Pausing my steps, I turned around slowly. “What are you talking about?”

Levi thumbed the pages. “Oh, you know. The much younger brother of a hockey legend, suffering from imposter syndrome.” He shrugged. “I mean, that could be anyone, right? And I might be inclined to believe it was a random creative coincidence, but . . .”

There was a buzzing in my ears, and fear pierced my heart. “Spit it out.” My words were barely audible.

A wicked grin curved on Levi’s face. “They play for the same team.”

The floor dropped out from beneath my feet. I was free-falling, my mind grasping at anything that would tell me my worst fears weren’t being realized. That yet another woman had taken advantage of me. That I’d fallen in love with someone whose only aim was to use me for personal gain. 

Sliding off the stool, Levi patted the book’s cover. “I’ll just leave this here in case you want to take a peek.”

He was gone, and I was left standing there, speechless, having a showdown with a book. 

Blood rushed in my ears, and I closed my eyes, trying to center myself. 

No. There’s no way Dakota would do this.

I pursued her. She wanted nothing to do with me.

She loves me, and I love her.

We talked about a future together.

She stood up to my mom, trying to protect me.

She gave me her virginity.

There’s no way any of that was fake.

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out slowly before opening my eyes. Stepping forward, I reached for the book. The only way I would find out if Dakota had betrayed me was by seeing what was inside for myself. Levi lived to stir up shit. He was probably just trying to tear me and Dakota apart for sport. That would be right up his alley. He was still pissy that I’d stolen his spot on the top line, not believing I had nothing to do with that call.

Settling in, I opened to the first page, more confident everything would be fine.

Two hours later, my world had fallen apart. 

I skimmed through most of the dialogue, searching for words and clues that would give hints that this was truly my story. 

And truthfully, I might have been able to overlook the basic plot. Surely, I wasn’t the first guy to be overshadowed by a more successful older sibling. No, it was the intimate scenes that stood out, rattling me to the core. 

There was no denying this was us—me and Dakota.

In print was the story of our love—or at least, what I thought had been love—in vivid detail.  

Me getting on my knees, eating her out in her living room.

Her riding me in the moonlight beside a frozen lake.

And most damning of all—sex in the penalty box and my visceral reaction to her scent the following game.

Our most private moments were on public display for the world to read while laying bare my deepest insecurities. 

My heart bled out from the knife shoved into it by the one person I thought I could trust. 

Flipping the pages, I stared at the cover, scoffing when I read the book’s title—Sticks and Shadows. I was sure she meant my complicated relationship with Jaxon, but in reality, she was the one lurking in the shadows, hiding her true motives. 

And I was the fool she’d played. 

My gaze honed in on the author’s name, D.D. Morgan, and memories—snippets of conversations—flashed before my eyes.

“I see you’ve met Double D.”

“My mom, Morgan, met Hank in college.”

Even though I knew it was Dakota beyond a shadow of a doubt, I went down the rabbit hole on my phone. 

I cringed.

Great. I would probably never be able to think or hear the word shadow again without feeling a stab of pain at her betrayal.

Not only did a quick internet search confirm the author was the woman I’d fallen head over heels in love with over the past several months, but it also informed me that the book—which had only been released earlier in the week—was now a bestseller. I didn’t know much about the publishing industry, but I could imagine you had to sell a shit-ton of books to earn that distinction.

The initial shock had worn off, and rage simmered beneath my skin. 

How many people were privy to my private struggles made public?

That question paled in comparison to the one burning at the back of my brain. 

Did she think she was going to get away with this? To keep living the lie at my side?

I couldn’t take it anymore. Shoving off the stool, it clattered to the ground as I stormed to the front door, grabbing my keys on the way. 

There was only one person who could answer those questions. 

Pulling up in front of the house Dakota shared with Bristol, I’d grown so aggravated on the drive that my chest was heaving. Black spots danced in my vision, and I dropped my forehead onto the steering wheel, closing my eyes and willing my breathing to regulate. 

Confident I’d settled down enough, I snagged the paperback off my passenger seat and exited the vehicle. On the walk to the front door, I dragged my feet. It was as if I was headed toward the executioner’s block. Except it wouldn’t be my head laid down to be severed from my body; it would be the connection I’d once thought Dakota and I shared that would split in two.

The last thing I wanted to do was see her beautiful face and be reminded that our time together was a lie, but it had to be done. I wasn’t a coward who could send a break-up text or, worse yet, ghost her. Besides, I needed answers. I needed to know why.

Raising a fist, I knocked on the door and waited. 

This was the beginning of the end. 

The door swung open, and Dakota immediately threw her arms around my waist and buried her face into my chest. I stood there, frozen, a stiff board, as she whispered, “I missed you so much!”

I was a grown man, and my heart was breaking. I thought what we had was real. She’d put on a hell of an act.

God, I was such a fool.

Eventually, Dakota noticed I wasn’t hugging her back and peered up at me, a question in her eyes. But whatever she saw in mine had her taking a step back.

Good. I needed the breathing room. 

Bringing the book forward, I waved it around, the pages flapping as I demanded, “Care to explain this?” 

My words were harsh, and she flinched. When her eyes focused on the item I held, the color drained from her face, signaling her guilt. 

“Where-where did you get that?” Dakota stammered.

I scoffed. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be asking questions.”

“Braxton, I don’t understand.” Her beautiful eyes filled with tears. 

“You don’t understand? That’s interesting because you wrote it!” My temper flared. I was losing control far more quickly than I imagined I would.

Gaze dropping to the floor, her sniffles hung in the heavy silence that stretched between us. 

“Do you deny it?” I challenged.

“No,” Dakota whispered softly. Eyelashes fluttering, she peered up at me. “Please, Braxton.”

I shook my head sharply, putting up my walls. Seeing her cry shattered my heart, but I couldn’t cave, couldn’t afford to have her spin a story that would have me forgiving her and pretending like she didn’t tear my fucking heart out of my chest with her actions.

When I threw the book on the ground with force, she jumped at the bang, but it got her attention. “This”—I pointed to where it lay—“is a complete violation of my privacy, and I didn’t give consent for you to use my life to peddle your books!”

Tears streaked down her face, and her voice was thick in her reply. “It’s loosely inspired.”

“Loosely inspired,” I said the words with a scoff, my fingers forming air quotes. “Since words seem to be your weapons of choice, I have a few for you.” Using my finger, I ticked them off. “How about . . . Deceitful. Scheming. Let’s not forget illegal. I don’t give a shit what disclaimer you put at the front about all likenesses to real people, dead or alive, being coincidental. We both know that’s bullshit, don’t we, sweetheart?” That word rolled off my tongue with such disdain that it sounded foreign to my ears. 

“I—” Her voice broke. “I wanted to share our love story. It was so beautiful. I didn’t think—”

I cut her off. “That’s your excuse? Doesn’t really track, considering it wasn’t mentioned once that I took your virginity. Or the sob story about your daddy issues. No, you made sure to use my pain, omitting your own. So, don’t give me lip service about wanting to immortalize our love. You never loved me.”

She reached for me, but I stepped away enough that her hand only caught air. 

I was reaching my limit quickly with her playing the victim. 

“If my teammate could figure it out, you think other people won’t? Your face is on your goddamn website, for fuck’s sake!” I roared, and the volume of her sobs increased. “How long before people put two and two together that my girlfriend wrote a fictional story that sounds a hell of a lot like my life?!” My voice darkened. “You fucked up big time with those personal tidbits. Won’t be long before our little ‘sin bin’ performance is discovered and plastered all over the internet. Or maybe that was your plan all along. A little bonus content, if you will, for your bestseller. A hook to land a movie deal.”

“No.” Dakota shook her head violently.

I went numb. Her theatrics no longer had the power to affect me. She was just another conniving bitch who’d fucked me over.

“You know, I should’ve seen it coming. But I was too focused on earning your trust that I wasn’t watching my back for you to break mine.”

That’s when she collapsed into a heap on the floor, visibly shaking with the force of her sobs.

I was done. I couldn’t stand to look at her a moment longer. 

Turning on my heel, I stalked toward my car as her cries echoed behind me. 

I’d always thought draft day had been the worst day of my life, but I was wrong. Today would forever be burned in my memory as the day I lost everything. 

Storming into the practice rink, I was a man on a mission. Even when the players were given the day off, the management staff was hard at work, and they held permanent offices at this rink where the team had their day-to-day activities versus the arena. 

Not bothering to knock, I waltzed into our general manager’s office. Ted Brinks looked up in surprise. 

I wasn’t his biggest fan. Not for the way he’d catered to Jaxon’s request that they save me from the humiliation of going undrafted but because his sense of nostalgia was handicapping the Comets. 

The championship only made it worse. 

Brinks was in the bad habit of trying to keep the aging core together, even when it was time to let guys go and bring in fresh talent. His management style would hurt the team in a decade, with few prospects to keep them competitive. 

Their odds of landing a second generational talent after the team hit rock bottom were slim to none. The Comets’ best years would be behind them before they knew it if he couldn’t pull his head out of his ass.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Slate?!” he screamed at my sudden intrusion. He was in his late sixties and normally ruddy-faced due to aging, but the color deepened to one closer resembling purple.

“I want out.”

Brinks paused for a minute, trying to figure out what I was saying. “What do you mean you want out?”

“Trade me. Today.” I was done with games, which was ironic, considering I played one for a living. 

“You’re out of your goddamn mind!” he shot back.

Stepping up to his desk, I splayed both hands across it, leaning in so he knew I was serious. “You have two options. You either trade me, or I stop showing up. I don’t care that I’ll be in breach of contract, so don’t test me. At least with a trade, you’ll get something for your trouble. Either way, I’ve played my last game for the Comets.”

Narrowing his eyes, Brinks said, “Can’t guarantee you’ll go to a championship contender. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I don’t care where you send me. Call my agent and get it done.” I turned to leave but threw over my shoulder, “Shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of a seventh-round Jaxon Slate knockoff.”

My last stop on my way out of the building was to grab my gear in the team locker room. I wasn’t coming back to answer questions from my former teammates when the trade went through. 

As the practice rink faded in the rear-view mirror, knowing I would never set foot inside it again, I was able to take a deep breath.

It was finally time for me to get my fresh start.

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Chapter 32

Dakota

Bristol found me curled up on the living room floor in the fetal position with the front door still wide open when she returned home from class.

“Dakota!” she cried, rushing to my side. “What’s wrong?”

I had no idea how long it had been since Braxton left me there, but I knew I’d run out of tears, and my eyes were sore from crying. Though nothing could compare to the pain of my heart cracking in two.

When I didn’t answer, Bristol rubbed her hands over my arms. “You’re freezing! Why is the door open?” She left my side and shut it before returning, trying to ease me into a sitting position. 

“Dakota, you’re scaring me.” Panic laced her voice. 

I managed to get out a single word. “Braxton.”

Bristol gasped. “Oh my God. Did he get injured? Is he okay?”

“Pretty sure he broke up with me.” Tears sprang to my eyes once more as a fresh wave of pain washed over me.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense. He’s crazy about you.”

“He found out about the book.”

Peering down at me, Bristol’s brow furrowed. “What book? Yours?” 

God, we had been popping champagne and celebrating its success only days ago, and now it had torn my life apart.

I managed a weak nod. “He thinks I used him.”

She paused, thinking it over. “Are you sure you aren’t playing it up bigger in your mind? He’s Braxton. Literally the sweetest guy on the planet. If he knew how wrecked you were, it would kill him. I know it.”

Swallowing, I sniffled. “You didn’t see him. He was so angry.”

Bristol stiffened, tightening her arms around me. “Did he hurt you?” 

“Not physically. His words cut as sharp as knives, though. The things he said . . .” My voice broke. “I’m the villain in his story.”

“No, Dakota,” she whispered. 

“It’s true.” Big, fat tears rolled down my face. “I should have never used the personal details of his life in my book. I was so caught up in how he made me feel and how different he was from the stereotypes that I was eager to share that side of athletes with the world. I wasn’t thinking. I made a huge mistake, and it may have cost me everything.”

Stroking my hair, Bristol tried to console me. “Look, give it a little time. Let him cool off, and then you can have a conversation. He loves you. Anyone with eyes can see that. Everything will be fine. I know it.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I was willing to try. If there were even the slightest chance I could fix this, it would be a miracle.

That hope was all I could cling to as I cried myself to sleep.

I gave it three days before I tried calling Braxton, but as expected, he didn’t answer. 

Busying myself with damage control, I waited another two before trying again. 

Still no answer.

Another day went by, and I figured it was time for a new tactic. Declining my calls was easy—the simple press of a button. If I texted, the message would pop up on his lock screen, and I might have a chance of him reading it before swiping to delete. 

Taking a deep breath, I typed out the words.

Braxton, can we please talk about this? I don’t like how we left things.

I never meant to hurt you. 

Tears burned behind my eyes as I composed the final message. 

I love you.

Desperate after two weeks, I tried calling again. 

This time, an automated message responded on the other end of the line. “The person you are calling is not accepting calls right now.”

Stunned, I stared down at my phone. I knew what that meant. 

Braxton had blocked my number. 

My first attempt at speaking to Braxton in person was foiled when I went to his place, and Levi gave me a shit-eating grin before telling me he’d moved out. Cornering him at the practice rink and bringing our drama to his place of work seemed like a bad idea, so I went to the only other place he might be hiding.

I knew it was a long shot, but I was desperate. 

Pulling up to the gatehouse of the community where Jaxon and Natalie lived, I gave my name to the attendant. I could only imagine Braxton had confided in Natalie, so was surprised when I was given clearance for entry. 

Parking my car, I stepped hesitantly to the front door. What if she only let me in so she could yell at me? To tell me what a horrible person I was for what I’d done to Braxton? He was her brother-in-law, and I knew they were close. There was no question she would take his side.

Knocking lightly, not wanting to add a further offense of waking a sleeping baby, I took a cleansing breath. 

Moments later, the door opened, and there stood Natalie. 

Not bothering with pleasantries, I blurted, “I need to see Braxton. Is he here?”

A sad, sympathetic smile graced Natalie’s pretty face. “Oh, honey. He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“He requested a trade from the Comets. He left a few weeks ago.”

Placing a hand to my stomach, I felt like I might be sick. “Where?”

I was hopeful it was somewhere close, like Boston or New York, and I could get in my car, drive to him tonight, and hash this out before it was too late. But that was squashed when Natalie replied, “Indianapolis. He now plays for the Indy Speed.”

My heart sank. That was at least twelve hours away. But I was determined to speak to him. I couldn’t just accept that we were done. At the very least, he deserved my apology and to know that I was doing everything in my power to make it right. 

I would get in the car first thing tomorrow morning. That was the only option. 

“I read the book,” Natalie said softly, drawing my attention. 

Ashamed, my cheeks heated. “I never meant to hurt him.”

“I know that.” She reached for my hand. “It was beautifully written, for what it’s worth.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered.

“The thing about trauma is that it triggers you when you least expect it. The tiniest thing can set you off and cause a complete overreaction.” Natalie sighed. “Trust me, I’ve been there. When you look back on it, you realize how ridiculous the whole thing was, but in that moment, the world is falling apart, and you can’t see reason. That’s what’s happening with Braxton right now. He’s scared, throwing up his walls and isolating himself. And I hate that for him.”

“It’s all my fault.”

Squeezing my hand, Natalie reassured me, “We all make mistakes. It’s how we react and move forward that defines us.”

“I’m going to go out there tomorrow and fix this. I promise.”

She shook her head. “I would caution against it. Let the dust settle. He will be dealing with a lot with the Speed heading into the playoffs.” 

It was almost April. The playoffs could run until June, depending on how far a team advanced. I couldn’t wait that long.

“And if I can offer a word of advice?” My eyes met hers, and she continued, “I know from experience that you can’t move forward with your life until you confront who or what hurt you. Use this time apart to make peace with your past to pave the way for your future. Whether you work things out with Braxton or not, it'll be good for you.”

My eyes widened. Was she suggesting I confront my father? That mere thought had my heart racing. What good would it do to speak to him now? Too much time had passed. Neither of us could change what he’d done to me and my mom. Nothing could bring her back from the dead. 

But Natalie was trying to help, so I ducked my head. “I’ll think about it.”

“I know he cares about you, Dakota. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so upset. If you need anything at all, let me know.”

Stepping back, I wondered if this was the last time I would ever set foot on this property and speak to this woman. If it was, she deserved my gratitude for her kindness and hospitality these past few months. 

Quietly, I said, “Thank you, Natalie. For everything.”

She gave me a small smile, and I slipped into my car before she could see me cry. 

Looks like I have my work cut out for me. But Braxton is worth the fight. 

Natalie’s suggestion rolled around in my brain for weeks. During that time, I spent most nights in my room, watching every Indy Speed game I could find, hoping to gauge how Braxton was coping. His play was incredible, and the Speed were rolling through the playoffs, bound for the Eastern Conference Finals. The Comets had already been knocked out in the second round on the other side of the bracket.

I wondered if this would be all I ever had of the man I loved—glimpses of him on a screen from almost a thousand miles away.

No, I wouldn’t let myself think that way. I would get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness if that’s what it took. 

You can’t force someone to forgive you.

That thought finally convinced me to make the trip to get closure with my dad. 

Steeling my nerves, I pulled up to the house he shared with his “real” family. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. Part of me wondered if he would even recognize me. It had been almost twelve years since I’d last seen him.

It didn’t matter. This visit was so that I could get my feelings about how he treated us off my chest so I could move on. I was tired of his actions controlling how I lived my life. 

Stepping onto the front porch, I rang the doorbell. 

Time stood still as I waited. Checking my phone, I watched as five minutes rolled by and finally decided to give up. No one was home. It was a shame because even if I was nervous as hell to confront my father, I wasn’t sure I could work up the courage to come knocking a second time. 

Halfway to the car, a woman’s voice called, “Dakota? Is that you?”

I froze. Turning slowly, I was met with the sight of a tall, brunette woman in her mid-forties standing on the threshold.

“Oh wow.” Her hands flew to her face. “I can’t believe how grown up you are.”

Stunned, I stared at her. She could be only one person—my father’s new wife and former mistress. And she seemed to know all about me when I knew very little about her.

Sensing my reluctance and confusion, she offered, “Would you like to come in?”

“Uh . . .” Did I want to? No. But I needed to, so I nodded. “Sure.”

Stepping inside, she closed the door behind me. “I’m Michelle,” she introduced herself. “I know we’ve never met, but I’ve watched you grow up.”

Anger surged in my veins, and I spun to face her. “Why did you do it? He was married, and you obviously knew that.”

Michelle sighed. But instead of answering my question, she asked one of her own. “Have you ever been in love, Dakota?”

My eyes dropped to the floor. “Yes.”

“Then, hopefully, you can understand that while I knew what I was doing with your father was wrong, I couldn’t stop loving him. And love makes people do crazy things.”

Still reeling from coming face-to-face with my stepmother—if we were being technical—I walked further into the house. 

I wasn’t going to bond with this woman about being so blinded by love that you did things others would view as wrong. Not that what I’d done was any less damaging. Instead of tearing apart a ready-made family, I stopped one from even beginning. 

I came to a stop when I reached a wall of portraits. For the first time in my life, I laid eyes on my siblings, whom I’d never met. Two teenage boys appeared to be older than a girl who looked close to Amelia’s age, if I had to guess.

“Is my dad home? I came to speak to him.” I turned to face Michelle. 

She shook her head. “No, but he will be soon. He’s coaching Griffin’s high school team these days. Likes to keep his hand in the game.” Stepping up beside me, she pointed at the shorter of the two boys, with dirty blond hair. “That’s him there. He’s seventeen.” She gestured to the taller boy with brown hair like his mother. “Grant is the oldest at nineteen and just finished his freshman year at Hartford State. Then, there’s Ginny.” Michelle motioned to the only girl. “She’s thirteen and loves to dance.”

Nodding, I kept moving through the house. Sitting on a couch without waiting for an invitation, I folded my hands in my lap and tried to keep my knees from bouncing. 

Michelle sat opposite me. “You know, I never approved of how your father handled things in the divorce.”

I sighed. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re right It doesn’t,” she agreed. “I guess a part of me wants you to know I’m not a bad person. Honestly, I never saw him leaving the two of you. He was content keeping up the status quo. Yes, he had two families, but I understood his need to split time. You and your mother deserved it as much as me and my kids. Please believe me when I say I never asked for more.”

I merely shrugged, not knowing what to say, so she continued, “It was almost like he could keep it separate in his mind. You were his girl, and then he had his boys. When Ginny was born, everything changed. He couldn’t compartmentalize his two families anymore. It was as if looking at her reminded him too much of you, and he realized what he was doing was wrong.” Michelle shook her head. “But I never saw him doing it the way he did.”

“Then why didn’t you do something about it?” I challenged. 

“I tried. I’m sure you remember enough about your father to know that sometimes he can be . . .”

“An ass?” I supplied the end of that sentence for her.

Michelle laughed. “I was going to say stubborn, but that works too. Anyway, it didn’t sit right with me that the two of you were left with almost nothing financially, and I went to Morgan—”

The air was sucked from my lungs. “You met my mom?” 

“Until that day, I only knew of her, but yes, we met. Only once, mind you.” A soft smile played on her lips. “You look so much like her.”

I blinked rapidly to hold the tears at bay. God, I wished more than anything my mom was still here these past few months. Not just to share in my joy of falling in love but to be there to guide me when it all fell apart. 

“I offered to set up an account. To send the money that she was entitled to for child support post-divorce, but she refused. She was too proud to take help from the woman who stole her husband.”

Oh, Mom.

Michelle might have been in the wrong for sleeping with and creating a family with a married man, but she didn’t want to see us suffer as a result. I couldn’t help but imagine what our life might’ve been like if she had accepted the offer of secret child support. It could have changed everything.

“I never knew,” I breathed out. “She never mentioned it.”

“As moms, we carry burdens so our children don’t have to. I can respect her for that. How is she, by the way?”

I stared at the woman sitting across from me. Was this some kind of sick joke?

“She passed away a little over three years ago.” The words were barely above a whisper.

Michelle’s gasp split the air, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, I had no idea. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Her eyes searched mine. “You’ve been all alone all this time?”

Nodding, I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain. Tears leaked from behind my sealed eyelids, and I waved a hand in apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Michelle’s arms encircled me. “Why are you only coming to us now?”

Sniffling, I tried to compose myself, but my words came out garbled. “I called Dad. He didn’t care.”

“What?” She pulled back to look at my face, and I nodded in confirmation. Anger flashed in her brown eyes, and she gritted out, “When I get my hands on him.” Smoothing tear-dampened hair away from my face, she softened, “If I’d have known . . .”

I shook her off. “It’s fine. I didn’t come here because of that.”

Michelle eyed me quizzically. “Then, why did you?”

Giving her a sad smile, I shrugged. “I guess I just need closure.”

She sighed. “I understand. For the record, I would have welcomed you into our life with open arms. You’re as much a part of this family as any of us. I’m sorry things weren’t how they should have always been.”

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I nodded. “Thank you.”

Almost as if on cue, a door slammed down a distant hallway before a voice I hadn’t heard in person for over a decade boomed, “Michelle! What’s for dinner? This boy’s starved!”

Taking a shaky breath, I stood. This was my moment of truth. 

Hank Danielson turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. His appearance had changed since I was a child. His blond hair was gone, and he sported a bald head; whether that was by choice or not, I didn’t know and didn’t care. He was still broad, but now that his playing days were over, he wasn’t as bulky, instead sporting a leaner physique.

Scanning my face, I saw the moment recognition lit in his blue eyes, and he stumbled back as if he’d been struck. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was gruff, the same as I remembered. 

Michelle narrowed her eyes at her husband, shouting, “Hank! Is that any way to speak to the daughter you haven’t seen in years?”

His gaze slid to her, and a rumble worked its way up his chest. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Just surprised, is all. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” I shuffled on my feet, willing myself not to wither under his intense stare.

“Do you need money?”

“Hank! For the love of God!” Michelle threw her hands up in the air.

“No.” I shook my head. “All I want is a minute of your time. If we could talk? Maybe somewhere private? Then I’ll leave. And I won’t be back.”

“Dakota.” Michelle touched my arm. “You don’t have to go.”

“It’s fine. I know my place.”

She sighed, resigned, and my dad gestured to a door off the side of the living room for me to go inside ahead of him. It turned out to be an office furnished in dark mahogany with burgundy accents. Very masculine for a macho man like my dad. 

The door clicked shut behind me, and I twitched. Nerves fluttered in my belly, but I steadied them with a hand pressed there as Dad walked around me and sat in the chair behind the desk. It felt like I was on trial the way he stared silently, waiting for me to plead my case. But in reality, all I wanted to do was share how his actions had impacted my life, thus releasing the power they held over my future. Only then could I try to fix what I’d broken in my relationship with Braxton.

He sat back in his chair, surveying me. “I’ve heard you’re running around with that Slate boy. Seems like you’ve done all right for yourself.”

I scoffed. “Is that how you measure worth? By whom you attach yourself to? Who has the most money or notoriety?” I huffed out a wry laugh. “Worked out so well for Mom, wouldn’t you say?”

Dad groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “What do you want, Dakota?”

“I came for closure. You ruined my mom’s life, and I’ve made a conscious decision not to let you ruin mine as well.”

Dad puffed out his chest. “I did right by your mother.”

“Oh yeah?” I challenged. “How do you figure? Putting a ring on her finger and giving her your last name was pretty damn worthless when you were screwing around on her the entire time. How about leaving her broke when you left? You didn’t give a shit about her, or me for that matter, not caring about what happened to us in the aftermath. She loved you. Damn if I know why, but she did. For years, she was convinced you were coming back. Refusing to sell the house with all your memories, not allowing herself to move on and be happy with someone new.”

“I’m sorry. Is that what you want me to say?” His tone didn’t indicate that he was apologetic. Instead, it betrayed he was merely trying to placate me.

“I don’t need your bullshit lip-service apology. I don’t want it. All I came here to do was clear the air. To let you know how I feel so that I can move on with my life. So that the black cloud you left behind doesn’t mar my future.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Well, then. Tell me.”

“I think you’re a coward,” I spat, satisfaction coursing through me when his jaw ticked. “You were more scared about optics when you should have let my mom go so she could start fresh. Considering you forced single motherhood upon her in the end, what was the point in delaying the inevitability? Oh, that’s right, because you’re selfish. You were only looking out for yourself and how it would look for your image if you had a baby mama floating around out there. Honestly, I wish she had never told you she was pregnant. We would have been better off without you from the start. I would have been happier never knowing who my father was. Because guess what? Not having a father in my life at all is better than what I got. I’ve witnessed firsthand what a good father looks like. God, is it beautiful to witness a man's unconditional love for his child—something I never received from you. So, this is it. From this day forward, I’m going to forget you ever existed. You will be erased from my memory because you have no place in my future.”

My chest heaved, but a heavy weight had been lifted, and each consecutive breath became easier. I was closing this chapter and choosing to move forward with a clean slate.

“Do you feel better now?” Dad asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Have a nice life because I sure as hell intend to.” He didn’t say another word, and I headed for the door. Pausing with my hand on the doorknob, I peeked over my shoulder for one final parting shot. “Michelle seems nice. I sure hope you’re not screwing around on her too.”

Flinging the door wide, I marched out of that house, a woman on a mission.

It was time to go get my man and pray that I could earn his forgiveness. 

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 33

Braxton

The trade to Indianapolis was exactly what I’d needed. Honestly, it was the perfect situation. The Indy Speed were the Comets’ biggest rivals. If there was one place that didn’t idolize my brother, this was it. 

Not only that, they had welcomed me with open arms.

The fans were wearing my jersey within a week of my arrival, holding signs saying they got the younger, faster Slate brother. It was a huge confidence boost, even if I was still struggling under the weight of Dakota’s betrayal being the reason I had requested a trade halfway through my rookie season.

My new captain, Maddox Sterling, had taken me in, offering me a room at his house until I got settled in the area. And even though I wasn’t in the mood, more often than not, he was able to drag me out after games to Pipes, the local karaoke bar the Speed frequented. I couldn’t lie; getting drunk and singing off-key did help me forget for a little while. 

Overall, the team was great, and I quickly realized how lucky I was that they had brokered a deal with the Comets to take me on. Their management team must have seen something in me because they’d given up two draft picks—a third-rounder this year and a fourth-rounder the year after—to finalize the trade to bring me to Indianapolis. 

While the Comets were getting older, the Speed had fresh, young talent, and their potential for future championships was far greater than the team I’d left behind. 

The hardest part was making the call to Natalie. I was on a plane to Indy the day of the trade, and when I landed, I knew I needed to explain why. I could hear my normally mellow brother yelling in the background. Jaxon was pissed that I’d gone behind his back and essentially “quit” being a Comet without a word. 

There was a reason I hadn’t told anyone before the details were finalized. I knew they would try to talk me out of it, and I couldn’t risk it. I had to get away.

Seeing her again . . . I just couldn’t do it. It hurt too much.

Natalie understood, even if my brother didn’t. She told me she loved me no matter what and that they would visit when the Comets came to town. It broke my heart, knowing my choices meant I would be forced to watch my nieces and nephews grow up from afar. I adored each and every one of them and would miss them fiercely. 

Thankfully, the Speed and Comets had already played all their regular season games against each other by the time I arrived. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the disappointment etched on my brother’s face or, worse, having to return to Connecticut. 

I’d made it a week after the move before I was forced to block Dakota’s number. 

The calls, I could ignore. And why I’d left that lifeline open, I would never know. Maybe in the back of my mind, there was a tiny flicker of hope that we could fix what was broken. 

As the days stretched on, I had more time to think and analyze our time together. I couldn’t for the life of me pinpoint where the shift had happened—where she’d flipped the switch to deception—and it ate at me. There had to be some sign to confirm that her words weren’t genuine or that the devotion in her eyes was fabricated. Or fuck, the sex. How could that have all been fake, a lie? No one was that good of an actress, were they?

So, when she began texting, and I saw those three little words light up my phone screen—I love you—I shut down. My heart was battered and bruised, aching to reach out and get those answers, but then I remembered this was the second time I’d been fooled. What was the saying? The second time, it was shame on me. 

I’d made a colossal mistake, entrusting my heart to someone who had smashed it into a million pieces. 

There wasn’t enough glue in this world to piece it back together. 

The Comets hadn’t done well after my departure, sliding down in the standings, narrowly managing to snag a wild card spot for the playoffs. The Speed won the division, earning the home-ice advantage through at least the Eastern Conference Finals, and the Comets were forced onto the other side of the bracket. 

Yet another small favor. 

I wasn’t sure I could handle going head-to-head with my old team in such a high-stakes situation. Especially after what had happened in their playoff series last year with Saint Booker taking a cheap shot late hit on Cal Berg after the final whistle blew. Cal no longer played, but Hannah was still pissed about it, and if there’s one woman you didn’t want to fuck with, it was that one.

There was no love lost between the Comets and Speed. That was for sure.

The playoffs went by in a blur. We breezed past the Michigan Lakers in the first round by sweeping the series four games to none. Then came the Atlanta Aviators in the second round, which was more of a challenge. A back-and-forth series had us winning in six games. The only thing standing between us and playing for a championship was four wins against the Charlotte Crusaders. 

That’s when disaster struck. 

During Game 5, Maddox took a bad hit into the boards, tearing his ACL. He was ruled out for the rest of the season and the future of his career was in jeopardy. He was thirty-four, and it wouldn’t be easy to come back from that type of injury at his age. 

It was a huge blow to morale to see our captain taken out. He was the backbone of our team, but we found a way to rally without him, earning that fourth win in the Conference Finals and making it to the championship round. 

It would be us against the Minneapolis Freeze, my hometown team.

Talk about a childhood dream. As a rookie, I was staring down the possibility of winning a championship against the team I grew up cheering for as a child.

I couldn’t have drawn it up any better. It seemed like fate.

The Speed struggled without our leader, who could only watch on from the press box with the other injured players. Even as Jenner Knight—one of our alternate captains—stepped in, it was clear we were lacking a crucial piece of our team on the ice.

We dropped the first two games on home ice to the Freeze but managed to steal one on the road in Game 3. Losing Game 4 away, we returned home, knowing each game from that point forward would mean elimination if we lost. Simply put, if we didn’t win out, we were losing the championship. There was no room for error. One more loss, and it was over. 

Game 5 was, thankfully, a win in Indy, so we headed back to Minneapolis for Game 6.

Being a Minnesotan, born and raised, my entire family was in attendance for what could be my final game of the season. Nothing like a little extra pressure to perform when your back was against the wall. But I knew they would be proud of me, no matter what. 

Well, most of them. 

When we took the ice for warmups, I saw my name on a sign in the corner. Skating over, I saw my nieces and nephews smiling and waving as I approached. Beau held a sign that read: Wrong Jersey, Uncle Braxton, but We Love You Anyway! This was the first time I’d seen their faces in person since I left Connecticut, and I silently thanked whomever had allowed strings to be pulled for them to come down to the space normally reserved for the home team’s kids.

Giving them each a fist bump through the glass, I skated off, feeling more energized than I had in months. I knew deep down in my bones that we were going to win this game. 

Coach Avery spoke to the team in the locker room between warmups and the anthem. He kept his remarks brief, touching on important points, like playing positionally sound hockey, paying attention to our matchups, and eliminating bad turnovers. Most importantly, he warned us to stay out of the box, not wanting to give the Freeze any extra advantages if we wanted to emerge from the game victorious. 

The team clapped as he announced the starting lineup and walked out with the rest of the coaching staff. 

Jenner said a few words about playing with heart as our stand-in at the captain position. 

When he was done, I raised my hand, asking if I could speak before we headed down the tunnel. He nodded, and I stood at the center of the room. 

Taking a deep breath, I looked around the room, making sure to catch the eye of each of my teammates. “I know I’m the new guy, but I just wanted to stand up and say that this is the dream of every man who has ever laced up a pair of skates. But we are the ones here now. If we put one skate in front of the other tonight, I believe we can win, get home to Indy, and raise that trophy high over our heads like we always pictured in front of our home crowd.” There was a round of applause, but I wasn’t done. “Think about our captain. He’s not out there going to battle with us tonight, but no one deserves to have his name immortalized in silver more than him. So, we go out there and win it for Maddox!”

Every player rose to their feet, cheering, “For Maddox!”

Time to make our dream a reality.

For as much energy as we’d left the locker room with, the game was not going our way. 

We scored a goal early in the first period that the Freeze challenged as offside, and after review, that was confirmed, wiping our goal off the board. Then, with a minute left in the first, we scored again, but that time was waived off for goaltender interference. 

We couldn’t catch a break.

Going into the second period, the Freeze scored, putting us down one. We rallied back, tying the game at one-to-one before the buzzer sounded, signaling intermission. 

The third period dragged on for what seemed like hours, and I didn’t know about the other guys, but I was giving it my all, and it didn’t feel like it was enough. In the final minute, the Freeze scored, and even with the goalie pulled, we couldn’t even it up before the final horn sounded. 

The sting of defeat sank in as Freeze players threw their gear in the air, celebrating winning a championship we felt should have been ours. 

It was a punch to the gut knowing we had two goals erased from the scoreboard early in the game, only to lose by one. There was nothing worse than knowing you were that close and fell short.

After the Freeze settled down, we lined up for the customary end-of-series handshake line. There was always such a stark contrast in these lines. One team was smiling, exuberant as they congratulated their opponents for basically losing, while the other was downcast, knowing their season was over. 

The rest of the team filed off to the locker room, but I sat on the bench, watching as the trophy was awarded to the Freeze. I wanted to remember this disappointment; it would fuel me for years to come. I never wanted to feel this way again and would work twice as hard to make sure that, at some point, I was the one screaming and cheering as I lifted that fabled trophy high over my head. 

When the families took to the ice, I shuffled down the tunnel. By now, the team would be mostly showered and changed. The press wouldn’t want much to do with the losing team tonight. We would debrief our traveling pack of reporters when we arrived back in Indianapolis tomorrow. Then, locker cleanout and exit interviews would be conducted with the management team. 

The season was over.

My eyes were downcast, but a flash of red caught my eye as I moved down the concrete hallway. Peering up, my heart sank. 

Leaning against the wall, dressed in tight jeans, a loose red shirt, and a black leather jacket, stood Dakota. 

Because today wasn’t bad enough. 

Not bothering to stop my trek down the hall, I sighed as I passed her. “I can’t do this right now.”

“It’s important,” she called to my back.

Spinning around, there was only one logical conclusion as to why she’d shown up after all this time. “Are you pregnant?”

Her eyes widened, and a hand dropped to her stomach. I squinted with tired eyes, trying to see if I could make out a bump beneath the flowy top she wore. It had been almost four months since we’d last been together. I wasn’t a pregnancy pro like my brother and didn’t know how much a woman showed at that stage. But I knew one thing for certain—I would be demanding a paternity test. 

“No.” Dakota shook her head. 

Relief washed over me, and my knees nearly buckled with the force of it. “Then we have nothing to talk about.” Ready to close that chapter of my life for good, I turned away from her once more. 

“You promised you’d never let me go.” 

Whipping around, I snapped, “That was before you ripped my fucking heart out!”

She flinched, and a security guard heard my outburst, walking over to ask, “Is everything okay over here?”

He waited for Dakota’s reply because I was the one who had been screaming. She gave him a small smile. “Everything’s fine.” She trained her eyes on me. “Isn’t that right, Braxton?”

My eyes closed at hearing her say my name aloud for the first time in months. That stab of pain told me my heart was still beating inside my chest. I wished with all my might it wasn’t. It hurt too much, seeing her face, hearing her voice—reminding me of all we used to have. 

The guard hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “Okay. I’ll be right over there if you need anything.”

I had two choices. Walk away or let her say whatever she came to say. I was leaning toward option one, but I had a feeling if I didn’t let her get it off her chest, she would keep showing up until I did.

A sigh shook my body. “Fine. Spit it out, Dakota. Why are you here?”

“I wanted a chance to explain.” She moved closer, peering up at me with sad eyes that likely matched my own. 

“I don’t want to hear your excuses.” I couldn’t keep the bite from my tone.

“I don’t have any excuses. I realize now what I did was wrong.”

I scoffed. “Took you this long?”

She narrowed those pretty eyes at me, and I knew the sass was incoming. “Well, someone refused to take my calls, then blocked my number. Oh, and that was all after he fled the state.”

“You used me,” I accused. She wasn’t the victim here.

Eyes full of sincerity, she replied, “For that, I am truly sorry.” Her voice softened, and she added, “But it wasn’t done on purpose.” 

I wanted so badly to believe her. To wipe the past few months of pain off the record books and pick up where we left off. But life didn’t work that way. You couldn’t snap your fingers and forgive someone for a betrayal that cut you to the core, whether intentional or not.

She took two more steps which placed her directly before me. Dakota was now so close I could smell the floral scent of her shampoo. 

I leaned my shoulder against the concrete wall. There had been a reason I’d never wanted to see her again. It was too difficult to look her in the eye, to hear her words of apology, and not want to pull her into my arms and pretend our time apart had all been a bad dream. When in reality, it was a living nightmare. Every day, I suffered. Even though I tried to hate her, I couldn’t stop loving her, which made it hurt even more. I couldn’t let go of the woman who had manipulated me to further her own career. 

“I need to know why.” At the very least, she owed me that.

Dakota ducked her head. “That’s fair.” Sapphire eyes meeting mine, she began, “Your story struck a chord with me. It rolled around in my brain until I had no choice but to let it out. And when it intertwined with the love we developed for each other, it seemed almost too beautiful not to share.” She sighed. “But I absolutely should have asked you first. You were right. It was your private struggle, and it wasn’t my place to share it without your consent.”

She was saying all the right things, but I wasn’t sure it would ever be enough. The trust between us had been broken, maybe irrevocably so. 

“I wanted to humanize players to the world; well, at least those who dabble in fiction surrounding players. Every hockey romance I’ve picked up has a strong hero who thinks he’s God’s gift to hockey and women should fall at his feet. And yes, I know there are athletes like that. I’ve met them. But you were so far from that, and I needed women to know that fame and fortune sometimes come with strings attached. That signing a professional contract doesn’t always translate into a perfect life. That you’re real people with the same issues as everyone else. You might hide it better, but more of you than we realize fear failure or are struggling under the weight of unrealistic expectations—even if those come from an internal source versus an external.”

Dakota’s lower lip trembled, and her eyes grew glassy. “And I’m sorry I used to be one of the people who judged players based on the worst among them. I need you to know that you’re worth more than the game on the ice. Your value doesn’t lie in the stat lines you put up or anyone else’s opinion of your play. You are more than the game. You are more to me.”

Why couldn’t I breathe? What was happening?

Tentatively, she reached out to remove one of my gloves, allowing it to drop to the ground. Slipping her fingers into mine, she gave a gentle squeeze. “You opened my eyes to so much, not only in hockey but in life and in love. No matter what happens between us, I need you to know that I’ll never regret meeting you, letting you into my life.”

Before my eyes came flashes of our time together—every beautiful moment of falling in love with the woman standing before me. There was a reason I couldn’t find a crack in the façade. Everything we shared had been genuine. 

And I was the one who walked away in a fit of rage, slamming the door shut on our relationship and uprooting my life to put space between us. 

My knee-jerk reaction—the triggers from my past trauma—had led me here. I couldn’t undo the trade. Dakota’s life was in Hartford, and I was bound to the Speed in Indy for the next two seasons. Even if we took the time to rebuild our trust, a long-distance relationship might prove to be too much to overcome. I might have ruined the best thing in my life because I let my temper rule me.

I knew I wouldn’t survive the pain of losing her twice, so I pulled my hand from her grasp. Hurt blue eyes peered up at me, and even though my heart was breaking, I kept my voice emotionless. “Thank you for coming here and forcing me to listen so that we can move on.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and I couldn’t bear to look at her hurting a moment longer. Turning away, I made it two steps down the hallway toward the locker room before her voice said, “I pulled the book down.”

Frozen to the spot, I didn’t turn around. “What?”

Sniffles reached my ears. “As soon as Bristol picked me up off the ground, I went straight to my computer and pulled the book from all platforms. Then, I issued a public apology to my readers for releasing a story that wasn’t mine to tell.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That doesn’t undo the damage, Dakota. It was out there in the universe for how long? Long enough to become a bestseller. Thousands of people have copies in their possession. Pulling the plug and halting sales doesn’t change that. You can’t put the genie back into the bottle on this one.”

“I know. I’m acutely aware that I can’t undo the greatest mistake I’ve ever made. And I don’t mean writing that book. Hurting you will always haunt me. All I can do now is try to make it right in any way that I can.”

“Dakota.” I sighed. “You can’t fix this.”

Almost as if she needed to touch me one final time before I severed our tie forever, she placed a hand on my padded shoulder. “Every penny I made in royalties, I gave to the Hartford Community Soup Kitchen. In your name.”

Stunned, I whipped around to stare at her. “You did what?” While she simply shrugged, my mind raced, trying to run the math. “That had to be . . . a lot.”

She huffed out a laugh. “A little over thirty thousand dollars.”

My eyes widened. “You made that in a week?”

“Your story resonated with people.” Dakota sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. Because the cost was too great.”

Heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I asked, “You just . . . gave it away? To my soup kitchen?”

“Yeah. I went in person to hand over the check. I spoke to Heather and made it very clear that we didn’t want a big deal made of the donation but that you wanted to leave a lasting mark since you wouldn’t be local to Hartford anymore.”

“Right.” Another reminder that even though the Speed was a better fit for me professionally, I’d left so much behind in Connecticut. My entire future had shifted in an instant.

“Um.” Dakota shifted on her feet. “I’m sure you have the press you have to deal with. Thanks for hearing me out. I’m so sorry. For everything.”

Fear gripped my chest as she began to walk away. The other half of my soul was leaving. 

The idea of never seeing her again was enough to scare me straight, and in a split second, I decided she was worth the risk. It might not work out between us if we gave our relationship a second chance, but I wasn’t willing to go back to the misery I already knew existed in her absence. If I could delay that misery and experience joy for however long we had, I was willing to try.

“So that’s it?” I called out to her back, causing her to turn around. “Is this how it works in your books? Someone comes in hot with a grand gesture and then walks away? They just give up? What happened to the guaranteed happily ever after? I feel kinda cheated out of mine.”

One of her eyebrows rose. “You want the happy ending?”

I nodded. “I think it’s gonna take some work, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

Dakota stared at me in disbelief. “Really?”

“Baby, I’ve lived a life without you by my side, and let me tell you, it’s not a life I wanna live. I’m no longer naïve enough to believe in the beautiful boy-meets-girl-falls-in-love-and-everything-is-perfect-for-the-rest-of-their-lives kinda reality.”

Her sweet laugh filtered through the air. “Now that sounds more like a romance novel.”

I chuckled because she wasn’t wrong. “I know not every love story gets a happy ending. And that ours might end someday. But know that I’d rather have a handful of amazing days with you than close the door now, for fear that it won’t work out.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Closing the gap between us, I pulled her into my arms, content for now to hold her close. I should have known the connection we shared was too strong to be severed so easily. 

It was at that moment I knew it would never be broken again. Dakota was my person, and I was hers. My faith in us had been shaken but was finally restored. 

I was never letting her go again.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 34

Braxton

After I was showered and changed, Dakota and I returned to my hotel room, where we stayed up all night talking. 

We had months of catching up to do and were both slightly skittish around the other, so jumping right back into our physical relationship would have been a huge mistake. Honestly, I was happy to take it slow. It wouldn’t be easy to rebuild the trust between us, but I knew it was worth the effort. 

Dakota dozed off sometime before dawn, and I nudged her awake half an hour before checkout. She rolled over, mumbling into her pillow something about five more minutes. 

Yeah, I’d definitely missed her. 

I brushed my lips against her temple. “Babe, I’ve gotta go.”

Sighing, she turned enough to give me a sleepy pout. “Already? I just got you back.”

“I have to go back to Indy with the team. It’s gonna take a few days to tie up loose ends from the season ending.” I smoothed the hair away from her face.

“Are you coming back up here after that? For the summer? I can stay and wait for you.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “Probably not. There’s nothing up here for me. I don’t want to crash Natalie and Jaxon’s summer with the kids, and there’s no way I’m walking into whatever shit storm is waiting for me at my parents’ after losing last night.”

“Where will you go?” Her brows drew down, creating a tiny wrinkle between them.

I shrugged. “Maybe stick around Indy. Maddox, our captain, is recuperating from his ACL tear, and I’ve been staying at his place since the trade.”

“Oh.” Dakota sat up, staring down at the sheets. “I see.”

Tipping her chin up, I searched her eyes. “I don’t want to put too much pressure on our second chance.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Leaning in, I captured her lips in a soft kiss, the first once since we’d reconciled.  When I pulled back, she was finally smiling.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t visit each other.” I gave her thigh a squeeze beneath the sheets.

Dakota chewed on her lower lip. “I’m gonna spend a few days up here.”

My eyebrows raised. “You are?”

“Yeah. Natalie invited me to the lake when the Speed lost since they wouldn’t be heading to Indy for Game 7.”

I winced. The wound was still raw.

“You and Natalie have been talking?” I asked, surprised.

Sheepishly, she smiled. “When I couldn’t reach you and found out you’d moved out of Nix’s place, I went to her. She’s the one who told me you were traded. She’s also the one who urged me to sort out my own baggage before coming to you. It was good advice. She’s a smart lady, and her kids are lucky to have her as a mom.”

“Nat’s the best,” I agreed.

“She told me to let her know if I needed anything. So, once I took care of some unfinished business, I asked if there was any way I could bum a ride with them to the Finals.”

“Wait.” I halted her story. “You were there the whole time?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, but I didn’t want to be a distraction. You needed to focus.”

“You are something else,” I mused.

“I think if you can, you should come back up here. Just for a few days.” She smiled. “Spend some time with the kids. Have you seen Max? He’s so big!”

My heart ached thinking of those kids growing up without me. “Yeah, Nat held him up to the glass pre-game last night.”

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

I tensed, not sure what to expect. “Okay . . .”

“I went to see my dad.”

That was the absolute last thing I expected to hear from her mouth. “You did what?!” I ran my hands up and down her arms. “Are you okay?”

Dakota nodded. “Yeah. Better than okay, actually.”

“Why?” I didn’t understand. 

“Natalie was right. I wasn’t going to be able to move forward with my life until I confronted my past. I looked that man dead in the eye and told him exactly how I felt about the type of person he was and condemned his mistreatment of my mom and me. And then I walked away without a backward glance. I’m done looking back. Only forward motion from here on out.”

I huffed out a disbelieving laugh, cupping her face with both hands. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Black eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks before she trained her eyes on me. “I think you need to sit down and talk to your dad.”

Dropping my hold on her face, I stood from the bed. “No.” I shook my head for emphasis, repeating, “No.”

Scooching to the side of the bed, she reached for my hand. “The expectations placed on you were far too high. No child—no adult—should have to fight so hard to feel worthy in their parents’ eyes, let alone on such a public stage.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me. I don’t have the option to walk away and not look back, like you did.”

“I would never ask that of you,” she vowed. “But if we want this fresh start, we both need to come into it without any past burdens.”

I was reeling, and she could sense it. Standing, she looped her arms around my neck, effectively grounding me. I buried my face in her neck, needing the comfort of her touch, her smell. 

“I know it’s not easy. Fuck, it’s terrifying. But you have no idea how liberating it is. You’ll never be free to move on with your life, to be happy, until you have an honest conversation with your father. And it’s not so much about fixing what’s broken but more about laying out how he made you feel. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.”

“He’s not an easy man to talk to.” I sighed. 

“It doesn’t have to be a conversation. You can make it clear at the start that you wish to be the only one talking. This is about your healing, not his. And if you want, I’ll be right by your side.”

Stunned, I pulled back to peek at her. “Really? You would do that for me?”

“Of course.” A smile curved on her lips, and she toyed with the hair at the nape of my neck.

“I love you.” The words slipped out. I knew we were moving slowly, but that didn’t change my feelings for her.

Blinking furiously, Dakota’s eyes grew glassy. “I love you too. I never thought I’d hear you say those words again.”

“Me neither,” I confessed. “But they never stopped being true. Even when we were apart, I couldn’t shut off my feelings. It was painful as hell, but I couldn’t stop loving you.”

“I’m never going to mess this up again. I promise,” she whispered, voice thick.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I nuzzled my nose against hers.

“No.” She shook her head. “Prepare yourself for a lifetime of grand gestures because I’m never letting you go, no matter what.”

“Hey.” I smiled. “That’s my line.”

“It’s our line now.” 

Then she pulled me down for a kiss, and we had to make a call down to the front desk to beg for a late check-out.

Returning to Minnesota after exit interviews and locker cleanout in Indy, I had the chance to sit down and talk to Jaxon. If we were really going for a fresh start, it wasn’t only my dad that I needed to share my feelings with. 

As expected, Jaxon felt terrible about being the root cause of my pain. It also provided a bonding opportunity for us, as he shared that Dad had been harsh on him growing up as well. I’d missed most of that because he was out of the house so young. Jaxon explained it was different for him. He wasn’t held to an unreasonable expectation. Instead, he was expected to be the standard, not just on the ice but off it. He wasn’t allowed to make mistakes.

He told me how Dad completely lost it on him when he found out Jaxon had gotten Natalie pregnant, dictating how he was going to handle that situation. Not before telling him that he’d made a colossal mistake and should have known better than to knock up some random woman who was going to take him for all he was worth. 

We both knew how very wrong that assumption had been. Natalie was wealthy on her own and spent the better part of her pregnancy with Charlie, pushing Jaxon away. She wasn’t looking to hook a hockey player. Honestly, after a messy divorce, she wasn’t looking to tie herself to any man. 

Dakota was right. Getting how I felt off my chest had me standing a little taller. And it allowed me to connect with my brother in a way I never thought we would. It was a shame we wouldn’t get to spend much time together anymore, being on separate teams.

On our last day in Minnesota, we stopped at my parents’ house before I returned to Indianapolis and Dakota went home to Hartford. 

Dragging my feet—literally—Dakota had to tug me toward the front door, knocking on it when I refused. I had zero expectations that I would leave this house with the closure she was so hopeful for. 

Mom opened the door, and her eyes widened. “Braxton!” 

When she stood there, unsure of how to react, I pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Mom.”

Her arms tightened around me. We’d always been close, and I knew I would have to apologize for keeping her at arm’s length because I couldn’t stand to be near Dad recently. 

Tears swam in her whiskey eyes when we separated, and her gaze slid to Dakota. “I see you’ve brought your friend.”

It was just like Mom to pretend that Natalie hadn’t told her all about my relationship with Dakota or that Dakota hadn’t already given her a piece of her mind at Christmas. Looping my arm around the waist of the woman I loved, I said, “Much more than a friend, but I think you already know that.” Mom cracked a tiny smile, confirming that she did. “Mom, this is Dakota, my girlfriend.”

Nothing if not polite, Mom reached out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Dakota.”

Dakota let out a tiny huff but shook Mom’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Shannon.”

“Yes, well.” Mom smoothed both hands along her thighs nervously. “Hopefully, today is more of a relaxed social visit.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Dakota muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Mom looked at her curiously. 

Clearing my throat, I drew her attention back to me. “I came to talk to Dad.”

“Oh dear.” Mom placed a hand to the side of her face. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No, but I need to do it anyway.” Dakota gave me a reassuring squeeze from the side.

“Well, come on in. Can I get you anything to drink first?” She moved aside to allow us entry. 

“No, thank you,” Dakota said.

“Not sure you have anything strong enough,” I mused.

“Your father is in the basement,” Mom explained. “Dakota, if you’d like to wait up here with me, maybe we can get to know each other a little better.”

“I’m staying with Braxton,” Dakota declared, daring my mom to challenge her. 

Instead, Mom gave a little nod, a silent show of respect. It piqued my curiosity about how their chat at Christmas had gone down. Mom was a strong woman herself, so for her to openly accept that my girl could hold her own against Michael Slate himself spoke volumes.

“I’ll be up here if you need anything.” Mom opened the fridge, grabbed a pitcher of iced tea, and poured a glass for herself.

“This way.” I led the way to the basement door. The moment I opened it, the unmistakable sound of game film floated up the stairs. I knew exactly what Dad was doing down there. This was already off to a bad start. 

Reaching the bottom of the steps, I rounded the corner to find my father watching a replay of Game 6 of the championship.

“Dad,” I called out, alerting him of our presence. 

Spinning in his recliner, he huffed out, “Good. You’re here. We need to go over what you did wrong that cost your team the game.”

“No.” I hated that the word came out so softly that he either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore it.

Standing, he pointed to the screen. “Here. Right here, you should have cut to the outside instead of going through the middle. I taught you better than that.”

Frustrated after years of verbal abuse, I screamed, “I said NO!”

Dakota jumped at my side, startled by my sudden outburst, but I gave her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance, which she returned. 

My father stood there, stunned, his face turning redder with each passing minute. 

When he finally found his voice, he boomed, “Excuse me? You think you can waltz into my house after embarrassing me in front of an international audience and not have to own up to your failures?”

Through gritted teeth, I spoke, “I am acutely aware of my failures, Dad. I don’t need you to point them out.”

His eyes slid to Dakota. “Maybe if you weren’t distracted, you could have poured all your focus into your career. You had so much potential. It’s a shame to see you wasting it.”

That was where I drew the line. Stepping in front of Dakota, I roared, “You don’t fucking talk about her! Do you understand?”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, taking his seat and turning away from us. “You just proved where your priorities lie.”

“Stay here,” I murmured over my shoulder to Dakota before stepping in front of the TV. Staring down my father, I said, “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. Understood?” 

Eyes narrowing, he nodded, so I took a deep breath. This moment had been decades in the making. 

“You’ve been nothing but critical of my game since the day you laced up my first pair of skates. Do you have any idea what that does to a child? To be pushed past the limit, to be told they’re never good enough? What kind of psychological damage that does? You practically killed my love of the game before it even had a chance to grow. And you almost ruined the relationship I had with my brother as a result. I resented him for far too long and without reason because you put it in my head that it was a competition between us. I know I will never measure up to Jaxon. No one will. He’s special, and I can respect that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be great in my own right.”

I tilted my head toward Dakota, standing behind him. “And you wanna talk about distractions? Let’s do that. You have always been my greatest distraction. Growing up, anytime I had a game, I gripped my stick too tight, knowing that if I made even the tiniest mistake, I would hear about it for days. My eyes were always searching to find where you were in the stands so I could gauge your reactions. Let me tell you, it was your voice I always tracked first. It’s a wonder the other parents didn’t tell you to go to hell because you were so obnoxious. When I got to Hartford, my worst games were always the ones when I knew you were in attendance, watching and criticizing. Ironically, the first time you came to see me play for the Comets, I had the best game of my professional career, and it still wasn’t enough for you. Every time I think I’m getting close to reaching the bar you’ve set, you move it. It’s an impossible task.”

“Braxton—” Dad began, but I cut him off.

“And I won’t hear you say a bad word about the woman I love being a distraction. She makes me better in all facets of my life. Haven’t you seen how falling in love and building a family has spurred Jaxon on? He’s playing better in his thirties than he did in his twenties. And the father he is? He is the one I will look to as an example when I become a dad someday. Not just the love he gives those kids, but the support to chase their dreams, no matter what they are. Have you seen Beau play? He has the biggest smile on his face every second he’s out on the ice. That’s what it should look like for a child. Not debilitating fear that they’ve disappointed their parent by not scoring enough goals or not winning the game.”

Damn, that felt good to get it all off my chest. Point for Dakota for knowing what I needed better than I did.

Stepping around where my father sat stunned, I linked my arm with hers, leading her to the staircase.

“Feel better?” she asked in hushed tones.

“Yeah. You were right.” I sighed.

Before we reached the first step, my dad called out behind us, “Braxton, wait!”

Looking skyward, I didn’t bother turning around. I hadn’t come here for an argument.

“You’re right.” The words said quietly behind me had me whipping around to face my father, who was now standing. 

Was I hearing things? There was no way in hell Michael Slate was admitting fault.

“Come again?” I asked in a daze.

Dad blew out a heavy breath. “You’re right. I’ve been too hard on both of you boys.”

Dakota’s wide eyes volleyed between the two of us. She was as surprised as I was.

I shrugged. “So, what? You think that can erase my childhood? I will have to live with what you did to me for the rest of my life.”

“I just . . .” Dad ran a hand through his short, graying hair. “I only got two shots.” 

Shots? What the hell does that mean?

He hung his head. “It was wrong to place my burdens on you boys. I thought if you both became these incredible champions that people would remember forever, it would compensate for the ones that never were. But nothing can ease that ache, I’m sad to say. It never leaves you. And I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to either of you.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined an apology from my father after laying out all the ways he’d failed me as a parent. 

“Uh . . .” I peeked at Dakota, but the look in her eyes told me it was my choice in how to respond. “Thanks?” I didn’t know what to say. 

Dad nodded solemnly. “I know I can’t ask your forgiveness. But know that I’ll try to do better.” He spoke to Dakota next. “I only know what I’ve heard from my wife about you, but I can see you’re good for my son. Take care of him, okay?”

“You have my word,” Dakota replied.

I tilted my head toward the stairs. “We’re gonna go.”

“I know I don’t say it enough, Braxton,” Dad said. “But I am proud of you.”

Seriously, what kind of alternate dimension is this basement?

Not having the words, I ducked my head, turning with Dakota and ascending the staircase. Bidding my mom farewell, I waited until we reached the car before asking, “Do you have any clue what that last part was about?”

Dakota gave me a sad smile. “Your parents have dealt with a lot of loss. More than any couple should have to bear.”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The age gap between you and Jaxon wasn’t by choice.” Her blue eyes held so much meaning, but I still didn’t understand. 

“Can we try not speaking in riddles? What happened in that basement left me confused enough.”

Reaching forward, she took my hand. “You were their miracle, Braxton. They lost so many babies between you and your brother.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t think I would have survived it. Your mom kept pushing on, but I guess your dad took it really hard.”

“The ones that never were,” I repeated my father’s words. 

Dakota nodded. “Yeah.”

“I never knew,” I breathed out. “I figured they poured so much energy into Jaxon being a hockey phenom that they didn’t have time to have another kid for a while. I never imagined . . .”

“It’s a difficult thing for people to talk about,” she explained. “Even harder for them to live with the pain.”

While it didn’t excuse my father’s actions, I understood better the source of his own pain. 

“I’m sorry they had to go through all of that, but I’m not sorry it’s what led to you,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Guess we both had rocky starts that were completely out of our control.” A wry laugh fell from my lips.

She smiled up at me. “I have to believe that’s what makes us perfect for each other. We understand the pain of disappointing parental figures, and it bonded us.”

Stroking a thumb over her cheek, I promised, “Our kids will be so loved.”

Dakota smirked. “Oh, are we back to the kids conversation? What happened to going slow?”

“Can’t help myself. You make me want the future to happen right now.”

She shoved off my chest, putting space between us. “Oh, no. Don’t be getting any crazy ideas. I have a lot I want to accomplish before settling down. But it’s nice to know it’s there when we’re ready.”

“Speaking of accomplished,” I hedged. When she raised an eyebrow, I said, “I want you to put the book back up for sale.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I am a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong. If my story can help someone out there feel less alone, feel seen, then I can’t in good conscience keep it off the shelves.”

“You’re sure?”

“The only thing I’m more certain of is my love for you.” I pulled her into my arms. 

“You are something else, you know that?” Dakota mused, breathless.

A smirk teased at the corner of my lips. “Not your stereotypical jock?” I teased.

At the reminder of one of our first verbal sparring sessions, she laughed—the most beautiful sound in the world. “No. You’re so much more.”

Standing outside my childhood home, I stared down at the woman in my arms. It hadn’t been easy, but we’d found our way together not once, but twice. She was worth the fight, and so long as we both kept our promise to never let the other go, I knew our future would be even better than those happily ever afters she wrote. Because ours would be real.

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Epilogue

Dakota

Three Months Later

After a summer split between Indianapolis and Hartford, it was time for us to put down permanent roots. 

Those months were spent working our way back to the place we’d been in before the book was initially published. It wasn’t magic, that was for sure, but Braxton made life worth living, and I was excited for us to take this next step. 

Key in hand, Braxton stepped up to the three-bedroom home we’d purchased together—splitting the down payment fifty-fifty and having both our names placed on the mortgage. 

We’d spent weeks trekking all over Indianapolis, searching for the perfect starter home. But this was the winner. The second bedroom would become my office, and the third, Braxton would turn into a home gym. He joked that someday he would relinquish his extra room for a nursery, but we were still taking things slow. Our flame had burned too hot and fast the first time, so easing into forever was the course we intended to take this go around. 

Slow and steady was the key to success.

Uprooting my life and moving to Indy was the easiest decision I ever made. Besides Bristol, nothing was holding me in Hartford. Braxton was my future, and this was the setting for our new life together. It was sad that we wouldn’t see Natalie, Jaxon, and the rest of the crew outside of games the Speed and Comets played against each other, but we were talking about eventually getting a smaller place on the lake in Minnesota so at least we could spend summers together.

Turning the key in the lock, Braxton pushed the door wide open. When I went to step inside the empty house, knowing the movers were still a few hours out with all my stuff from Connecticut, Braxton halted me with an arm banded across the threshold. 

Sighing playfully, I asked, “What’s the holdup?”

“We’re gonna do this right,” he declared.

“Right?”

Before I could comprehend his meaning, Braxton swept me into his arms and carried me into the house. 

I batted at his chest. “Put me down! This is only for married people!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my mistake,” he teased, setting me on my feet. “I thought I made it clear you’ve been mine since the moment I laid eyes on you. And trust me, I can’t wait to see you walk down that aisle, all dressed in white, but in my mind? It’s all a formality. You’re it for me, Firefly. Whether we get married in two years or ten, you’re mine forever. I’m never letting you go.”

That had been his very first promise, and now it was one we’d made to each other. 

I knew life was unpredictable and there might be some unforeseen circumstance that could threaten to drive us apart—I certainly hadn’t seen the last one coming, so anything was possible—but I believed what we shared was too strong to fall apart again. Even if it did, we would fight for it.

Pulling him in for a kiss, I let his lips take control, sliding over mine, making silent promises of our lives to come. He might be thinking of all the tangible things—a house, a wedding, kids—but I was focused on the emotional aspects. Even though we’d both aired our grievances with our respective fathers, old wounds still remained. I knew there would be times when Braxton doubted himself and his playing ability, still tying his worth to his performance on the ice. But I was determined to make sure he always knew he was more than “just” a second-rate superstar. In my heart, he would always be number one.

Breaking away, I surveyed our empty house. “What now? Should we order some food? Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” his gravelly voice rolled over my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “But not for food.”

Ever since we’d reconnected on a physical level, Braxton had been insatiable. It was never a question of if we would be having sex multiple times a day, but in which position and where.

With training camp starting in a few days, going back on the road was going to be a struggle for both of us. We had gotten far too used to spending almost every second together.

Dipping his head, Braxton’s breath was hot in my ear. “The first thing I’m gonna do is fuck you in every room we own. Then, I’m going to start all over again and make love to you in each of them.”

Oh my.

“Sounds like you have your work cut out for you,” I mused. “But you’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?” He pulled back to gaze down at me from above.

“We don’t have any furniture.”

His husky laugh echoed off the walls. “Oh, Firefly. If you think a little thing like that is going to stop me, you are in for a big surprise. There’s an island in the kitchen that needs to be christened, countertops in bathrooms, windowsills, and when all else fails, I’m not opposed to fucking you hard against a wall.”

Yeah, he had me there, and damn if my pulse wasn’t pounding between my thighs at the idea of him claiming me in every room of this house twice over.

Swallowing, I nodded. “Okay, you win. Show me what you’ve got.”

Bending down, Braxton threw me over his shoulder, kicking the front door shut and moving toward the basement stairs. It always came back to that, our first time meeting in a darkened basement. 

It hadn’t seemed like it then, but that was arguably the best day of my life. 

It had been the start of the rest of my life. 

And what a life it was shaping up to be.

For an extended epilogue featuring both the Remington and Comets crews celebrating Christmas six years down the road, along with recipes for Dakota's mom's chicken casserole and key lime pie, you can find it here.

Curious to see if Bristol ever gets her happily ever after? Wondering how Maddox will find his footing in the hockey world post-injury? Find out when we shift to the Indy Speed, starting with A Bunny for the Bench Boss.

If you missed the stories of the rest of Braxton and Dakota’s found family, you can find them in The Remington Royals series (Jaxon and Natalie, Liam and Amy, and Lucy and Preston), and in the previous two Comets books, Bagging the Blueliner (Cal and Hannah) and Surprise for the Sniper (Benji and Liv).

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Acknowledgements

To my husband, Andy, thank you for your support in getting my writing career off the ground, for pushing me to dream bigger on a daily basis, and for always being the first to share with acquaintances and strangers that your wife writes spicy books and they should check them out (even if my face flames every single time). I wouldn't be able to do this without you having my back.

To my kids, thank you for being my cheerleading section. Your excitement every time a new book is released will always make my heart swell. I only hope it encourages you to reach for your dreams as you grow older.

To my friends and family, who never miss an opportunity to tell me how proud they are of me. Writing romance isn't something a lot of authors have the courage to share with those closest to them and I'm beyond blessed to be surrounded by such a supportive group of people in my life.

To Katie, my editor. I love the easy rapport we have when working through my books. You push me to be a better writer, and I'm so thankful to have you on my team.

To Nina, my proofreader. You not only polish up my books before they hit the first wave of readers, you have been such an incredible supporter of my journey from the start and I want to thank you for continuing to work with me as I keep pushing into new subgenres.

To Amanda, who always keeps an eye on my hockey terminology and explanations. Thank you for making sure I keep it simple enough to not confuse those not buried deep within the sport.

To Sam D, thank you for being a message away. Whether it's to bounce ideas off of you or to vent, I know you'll be my sounding board.

Thank you to the amazing reader groups that support and encourage indie authors who have been instrumental in getting my career off the ground. Shout out to the amazing admins in those groups, you guys have no idea how you've changed my life.

Thank you to my Spicy Sidekicks (come find us on FB if you wanna hang out). My tiny group of hardcore fans who are always eager for sneak peeks, to share their favorite characters, or to just talk in books in general. I love the little community we have.

Last, but certainly not least, a HUGE thank you goes out to all my readers. I am continuously humbled that out of millions of books available at your fingertips, you choose mine. Not only that, you go out of your way to recommend my books to others and you have no idea how much I value your continued support as I keep writing and releasing books. Your excitement fuels my passion and makes all of this possible. I am extremely grateful to each and every one of you.

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About the Author

Siena is originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where a love of sports is bred into a girl’s DNA. Her love of romance novels came early as well. She would often accompany her romance reviewer mom to book lovers’ and romance writer’s conventions, where she sat in on workshops and met numerous best-selling authors. It wasn’t long before she was filling notebooks with her own stories, which often starred herself and a certain real-life prince. 

As luck would have it, she met and married a handsome athlete instead. After several temporary residencies in multiple states and Germany, they finally settled in Michigan, the land where youth hockey reigns supreme. 

Her stories no longer feature herself, but draw from her past experiences as an educator, businesswoman, fashion consultant, and world traveler when creating her strong heroines. “Oh yes,” she says with a wink and a smile, “There are bits of me in all of them.” Now, she spends her days writing happily ever afters for fictional characters and her evenings at the local hockey arenas cheering for her three children.  

Siena loves to hear from her readers. You can email her at:

siena.trap.books@gmail.com

Or find her on social media (FB, IG, and TT): @siena.trap.books

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More Books by Siena Trap

Remington Royals Series

Scoring the Princess

Playing Pretend with the Prince

Feuding with the Fashion Princess

Connecticut Comets (Hockey) Series

Bagging the Blueliner

Surprise for the Sniper

Second-Rate Superstar

Indy Speed (Hockey) Series

A Bunny for the Bench Boss

(Maddox's Story)

Frozen Heart Face-Off

(Jenner's Story)

Goalie Goal

(Sasha aka Goose's Story)

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