Pucking Wild (Jacksonville Rays, #2)

by Emily Rath

“Johnny Depp is here,” Poppy squeals, dropping into the last empty seat by Morrow. “Oh, my good gracious, I’m gonna faint.” She presses a manicured hand dramatically against her chest. “Pop, did you see Slash?” says Sully, leaning between the seats. “No,” she gasps, her head turning on a swivel. “And Al Pacino,” Morrow adds. “Ohmygod,” she whines, gripping tight to his arm. “This is just so exciting. I can’t believe they said no pictures. I’m dyin’ over here.”

Suddenly, some of the guys all start to whoop and cheer. I turn, eyes wide, as I take in Kinnunen walking down the makeshift aisle between the chairs. He’s easily one of the best-dressed guys on the team. Tonight, he’s rocking a moss green suit and no tie. If I wore that color, I’d look like an idiot. On him, it’s effortlessly cool. “Go, Bear!” “There he is!” “Get it done, Mars!”

Compton and Sanny walk in right behind him, big smiles on their faces. Compton catches my eye, grinning like a lovestruck idiot. “Yeah, Sanny,” Novy shouts. “Lock him down quick, or I will!” The guys all laugh as Sanford gives Novy a death glare. He may not have the scar to match Novikov, but it’s still intimidating as hell. The guys shuffle around at the front of the room, Kinnunen stepping back to let Compton and Sanford claim the middle spots. “Aren’t we supposed to hold hands?” asks Compton. “Shut up,” Sanford says and we all laugh. “Come on, asshole. Hold my hand or something,”

“Hold his hand or I will,” Novy shouts to more laughter. With a sigh, Sanford takes it, which makes Compton’s grin grow even wider. Damn, I can’t help it. I’m smiling too.

Novy leans in at my shoulder. “Am I crazy, or does Compton make a very hot girl?” I want to laugh or give him a shove, but I can’t. I can’t do anything. I can’t even fucking breathe. Walking in right behind Compton’s twin is the woman who has single-handedly been haunting all my dreams. Tess. Fuck, she’s so goddamn beautiful. Compton’s sister is in a slinky black dress, but Tess is in emerald green. It sets off the red in her hair and the cream of her skin. My chest feels tight. My hands are clammy. She’s smiling wide as she sways down the aisle. She catches my eye as she passes and winks. Kill me dead.

all stand as the music changes. With a room full of Rays, quarters are cramped. A row of defensemen stand behind me, so I can’t see a damn thing. I turn, looking to the front instead. I’m not disappointed by the view. My heart squeezes tight as I see the looks on the faces of Compton, Sanford, and Kinnunen. Holy shit, they’re in love. All three of them. It’s written all over their faces. Compton is crying. So is his twin. Even stoic Kinnunen looks misty. I smile. Suddenly this doesn’t feel so weird. They all look happy. They all want Doc, and they’re willing to share her. It’s kind of beautiful, actually. Life’s too short to go through it settling for a life you don’t want.

“We’re all here tonight to witness the union of these four fine people,” calls out Johnny Jay. “The laws in the state of California mean that technically this is a double wedding, but they’d like it clear that they stand now before their family and friends united as one—one team, one family.” “The Fearsome Foursome,” Compton says with a smile. “Don’t call us that,” Sanford mutters at John Jay. Around the room, a few of us laugh. “You two lovebirds are up first,” says John Jay, glancing between the guys. “Do you come together of your own free will to be married?” “Yes,” Sanford replies, his eyes locked on Compton. “Yeah, I do,” Compton adds. “Did you prepare any vows?”

Sanford raises his other hand and grabs Compton’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll go first, yeah?” Slowly, Compton relaxes and nods. Sanford drops his hand away from his shoulder. From my seat, I’ve got a perfect angle on his face. Sanford is a serious guy. Even when he’s joking around, he’s usually deadpanning.

“Jake, I love you,” he declares, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I’ve loved you for ten fucking years. I loved you in secret,” he admits. “I loved you like a coward. I didn’t deserve to be loved by you in return—not until I got out of my own damn way. But I needed a little help. I needed a push.”

“Four months ago, I got a shove. A hurricane on two legs swept into our lives and knocked us both off our feet. She was my push to love you out loud. To love you as you always should have been loved. So, here’s my vow: The coward who loved you in secret is gone. Rachel remade us both into something stronger. I’m here now, Jake. I’m right fucking here, and I’m saying it out loud.”

“You’ve always been my friend,” Sanford goes on. “Then you became my lover. Tonight, I make you my husband. You’re mine, Jake Price. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.”

“So, umm…playing hockey has always been about putting myself first—my training, my diet, and my travel and game schedules. Everyone in my life just learned to orbit me. And if my life was too much for them, they flung themselves out of my orbit as fast as possible.” It’s like he’s describing the personal lives of half the men in this room, myself included. “Over time,” Compton goes on, “I realized I was a sun with no planets, the center of my own universe. I had everything I ever wanted, but I was alone, just me and my career. You were the only one who stayed, Cay. You stuck it out. You let me be selfish and self-centered. You let me put my career first and never once questioned it, never made me question it,” he adds, a slight tremor to his voice. “You joined me at the center. You don’t orbit me like all the others did. You stand resolutely at my side, unmoving. Babe, you are love in suspended motion. The calm in the storm of our lives. You’re where everything stops. You’re where I stop. You are…everything,”

“I was just looking at it,” I say quickly, spinning around. When I turn, I’m face-to-face with Ryan Langley. His blond curls are slicked back, tucked behind his ears, and those pretty green eyes carry a hint of a laugh. “Hey, Tess,” he says, his All-American smile warming my insides. He looks delectable in that navy suit. He lost the tie ages ago. I can see the tail of it poking out of his pocket.

I knew he was here. Of course, I knew. I felt his eyes on me the moment I walked down that aisle. And he kept his eyes on me. And I ate it up…because I’m a terrible friend who wants things she can’t have…like sweet, young puppy-faced hockey boys with abs for days and a megawatt smile.

“Hi, Ryan,” I say, leaning my hip against the table. I’m going for calm and collected. “I saw you earlier.” “And I saw you,” he replies, taking a sip of what I think is an Old Fashioned. The last time he saw me, I was wearing decidedly less in the way of clothing. Nothing at all, in fact. I can’t help but feel like this dress is armor…or more like a shield against doing something foolish like kiss him again. With the way he’s looking at me right now, I have a feeling I’ll need it. I set down the glass of water I’m holding. “I was wondering when you might come talk to me.” “Right now,” he replies.

“I never say no to cake,” he replies. “I’ll just add five miles to my morning run.” “Five miles for a slice of cake? That doesn’t sound like a very even trade.” “There are other ways to burn off the calories,” he teases, and that twinkle in his eye works its way right through to my lady bits. I feign a gasp. “Ryan Langley, are you trying to proposition me for sex?” “Get your head out of the gutter, Owens,” he replies. Setting down his Old Fashioned, he holds out his hand. “I was talking about dancing.”

“Don’t we have to eat the cake first? Otherwise, what calories are we trying to burn off by dancing?” He drops his hand, realizing his mistake. “Oh…right.” Then he glances over his shoulder, looking to see if anyone is close by. Moving quick, he snatches up the long cake knife. I gasp for real. “Ryan Langley, don’t you dare.” I grab at his wrist as he laughs, trying to wrestle the knife from him. “You can’t cut their cake—” “You just said no one was gonna eat it,” he teases, gently pulling away from me. “You said it would sit here all night before it ends up in the trash. We’re saving it, Tess. A wedding cake deserves to be eaten. We’re helping it fulfill its wedding destiny.” “You can’t just cut into it,” I cry. “Only crazy drunk uncles and psycho ex-girlfriends cut into a wedding cake before the bride and groom.” He stills, glancing down at me. “What kind of weddings do you go to?” “Knife down, Ryan.”

“No one will miss a little frosting,” he reasons. “And then we’ll dance off the calories. It’s the perfect crime.” “Ryan—” “Oh, look at that,” he says, swiping his finger over a rosette at the bottom of the cake. “I slipped. Clumsy me.” He holds up a finger thick with white buttercream frosting. “You gonna make me stand here holding the smoking gun? Come on, Thelma, this was your idea.” I cross my arms. “Thelma? Does that make you Louise?” He just shrugs, still smiling. “I think you’re a J.D. at best,” I tease. “Ouch. You know what, for that—” Lightning fast, he moves his hand, smearing the frosting against my lips.

“Gotta eat it now. Hurry, before Doc comes over here and accuses you of ruining her perfect wedding.” With my hand over my mouth, I lick my lips, savoring the sweet, sugary taste of the cake frosting. “You’re an asshole,” I say, dropping my hand away. “Got a little more here,” he replies with a grin, holding up his finger. Ready to beat him at his own game, I lean forward, sucking the tip of his frosted finger into my mouth. Now he’s the one gasping in surprise, his body jolting. I suck the frosting off his fingertip with a sexy little moan, giving him a little flick with my tongue before I let him go. “Holy fuck,” he says, breathless. I smirk. He’s almost too easy.

“Your turn,” I say, dipping my finger into the cake to flick off a little frosted rosette. He’s right, no one will even notice they’re gone. I hold my finger up between us, waiting to see what he’ll do. Surprising me, he ducks his head down closer and sucks the tip of my finger into his mouth, tasting the frosting. His mouth is warm, his tongue teasing. I hold my breath, all senses firing, as his teeth give me a little nip. The sensation races down my arm, across my chest, and zaps me right in the clit. Oh fuck. He lets me go, his gaze molten. I want to kiss him again. I want to feel those soft lips. I want to taste the frosting on his tongue. I inch closer, tipping up my chin. “I thought you said you wanted to dance,” I say, my lips parting, inviting him in. “That’s good for one song, I think.”

Those pretty green eyes are locked on me, reading me, asking me an unspoken question. He’s going to do it. He’s going to kiss me. I want him to.

I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. This woman is so far out of my league. She’s smart and funny and so damn sexy. Women like Tess Owens don’t pick guys like me. So why is her hand in mine? Why am I leading her onto the dance floor? I’ve been watching her all night. I can’t help it. I feel drawn to her. It’s her laugh. So bright and full-bodied, just like her. The sound pierced straight through me, rooting me to the floor as I stood there like an asshole, pretending to listen to Sully and J-Lo’s jokes.

The music transitions into a slow song, and I thank my lucky stars. It’s like God knows I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of this woman. She didn’t let me touch her in Compton’s kitchen. She let me kiss her, yes, and it was fucking amazing. I felt her naked body press against my bare chest, so warm and soft. But she made me keep my hands to myself the whole time. In the moment, I didn’t mind. But as soon as she was gone, I felt oddly bereft that I didn’t get to hold her. I’m changing that right fucking now.

She steps in willingly, her full breasts brushing against my chest as I lace our fingers together. Her other hand goes to my shoulder. My fingers glide over the silky fabric of her emerald dress, my palm splaying possessively at the small of her back. She fits snug against me, our toes tapping as we find our footing and start to sway. “Do you like to dance?” she says after a minute. I glance down. “With you, yes.” She smiles without teeth.

Tess Owens would be radiant in anything. She can’t help herself. God, this woman is under my skin. What the hell am I going to do about it? “You all leave in the morning?” she says, her hand brushing down my arm. I nod. “Seven a.m. lobby time,” I reply. “It’s back to Jax for a few days, then we’ve got back-to-back games in Texas before we head up to the Winter Classic in New York.”

“Just means we’ll get no downtime for Christmas this year.” “Will you at least get to see your family?” I nod. “I’ll spend two days with my mom and sister. They’ve already made plans for us to spend Christmas Day on the beach. What about you? Any big family plans?” She hums a noncommittal sound. I shift my hold on her waist. It’s subtle, but now I almost feel like she’s tucked under my arm. I’m touching more of her this way. “You played well tonight,” she says, her fingers flexing softly against mine.

“You were watching?” “Of course. You’re really impressive, Ryan. You may just be my favorite Ray to watch.” The caveman in me sits up and beats his chest at being complimented by her. Not that I need her praise to know I’m talented. “Careful, Tess,” I tease. “Don’t go giving yourself away now.” “Giving myself away?” “Yeah. Clearly, you’ve got a crush on me.” She scoffs. “You wish, hockey boy.” “Admiring my skill and speed…watching my hands as I work my stick down the ice…” She rolls her eyes. “Can’t take your eyes off me,” I press, leaning closer. “Can’t stop that excited little fluttering of your heart each time I take a shot on goal.” “You’re delusional,” she deadpans. But I see the little smile at the corner of her mouth. “It’s cute, really,” I say, straightening myself out. “I’m flattered.” “I did this to myself. Never compliment a professional athlete,” she says with a shake of her head. “Always compliment an athlete,” I counter. “It’s the fastest way to our hearts.” “I thought the fastest way to an athlete’s heart was food,” she teases back. “True,” I reply. “There’s probably little I wouldn’t do for some homemade mac and cheese.”

“Can I at least make it gourmet?” she asks, willing to play along. “I could get on board with a good lobster mac and cheese. Give it a little crispy panko topping…maybe a drizzle of black truffle oil—” “Nope. Kraft blue box. Toss in some cut-up hotdogs if we’re feeling fancy.” “You’re breaking my heart, Ryan,” she replies with a sigh. “And here I thought this was love at first sight. Your hotdogs are ruining the fantasy.” “Ah, but you don’t believe in love at first sight,” I tease. She glances up sharply, her hand going stiff in mine. “What makes you think that?” “You do,” I reply, giving her hip a squeeze. “You may go around naked in other people’s houses, kissing strangers and hugging Al Pacino like an old friend, but you’re way too guarded to go falling for someone at a glance. This pretty package piqued your interest,” I add, gesturing confidently to myself. “But we’re a long way off from you confessing your undying love.” “Oh, but you think we’re on the path?” she teases, trying to match my casual tone. “You think you’re gonna get me down the aisle, Ryan? Future Mrs. Hockey Boy?” “Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Maybe you can come to another game soon,” I say, ready to shoot my shot. She lets out a soft laugh. “I didn’t think the NHL did many matchups in Cincinnati.” “We don’t. But Chicago is kinda close, right? Or you could always come down to Jax again. And tickets are no problem,” I add, knowing I’m probably sounding desperate. But I don’t care. I want to see her again. “So, what do you think?” “I think…I’d like that,” she admits, leaning into me as I do another little half-turn. I smile.

“No buts. Come on, live a little, Tess.” Her gaze softens as she glances up at me. There’s an apology in her look, and I fucking hate it. “Ryan—” “I know I’ve been teasing and coming on strong, but I like you, Tess. I just want to get to know you better.” “You don’t know me at all,” she says. “You just like what you see.” “Well, you’re fucking gorgeous, and you know it. I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said I didn’t want you wrapped around me like naked bark on a tree.”

“But if you think your beauty is all I see, you’re wrong,” I add.

“What do you see?” “I see you,” I reply. “I see a woman who’s bold and fearless. A woman who loves to laugh. You’ve got a great laugh, Tess.”

“I see someone who loves her friends,” I go on. “Someone who puts others first. Maybe I like the idea of being the one who gets to put you first. I like taking care of people, Tess. And I take excellent care of what’s mine.”

raising a hand to cup my cheek. Her thumb brushes softly against the corner of my mouth. “I bet you do,” she says. Why does this feel like goodbye? I turn my face, leaning into her hand, and press a kiss to her thumb. “I want to see you again,” I admit. “It doesn’t have to be at a game. Pick a weekend, and I’ll fly you down to Jacksonville. Or I could fly up to Cincinnati—” “No.” She drops her hand away from my face. Fuck, she’s still pulling away. “Tess—” “We already agreed,” she says. “You’re a Ray, Ryan. You’re Rachel’s friend, her patient—” “Nope,” I say, giving her hip another squeeze. “I’m not buying it.” “You’re not buying that you’re her patient?” “I’m not buying that as your excuse,” I counter. “Rachel is your friend, not your mother or your keeper. I bet she’d have no problem with you dating a Ray if she thought it was really what you wanted…am I right?” “My work is crazy right now,” she says, still deflecting. “It was hard enough getting away for this,” she adds, gesturing around.

“Look, I’m a grown man, Tess. If you don’t want to see me again because you’re not interested, you can just say that—” “I do,” she says quickly, pressing herself a little closer. Her hand splays against my chest as she leans in. “I do want to see you. I like you, Ryan. You’re sweet and funny and I’d love nothing more than to see you again. Maybe in a perfect world, I would get to do only the things I want to do,” she adds, her voice sounding suddenly tired. “But the truth is that my life is a mess right now. It’s not work, it’s…me. It’s complicated.” “I know you’re divorced,” I say. “Or you’re getting divorced. Doc wasn’t really clear. She didn’t like me being nosy,” I admit with a soft laugh. Her eyes narrow as she looks up at me. “But if that’s what’s holding you up—” “No,” she says quickly. “Well…honestly, yes. I mean, we’re separated. God, we’ve been separated for almost three years.” “Are you thinking of going back to him? Is that still on the table?”

“So then…what’s the hold up? Just tell me the truth, Tess. Whatever it is, I can take it.” “The truth?”

“The truth is that a sweet guy like you is likely looking to settle down,” she says at last. “You may not believe in love at first sight, but you believe in love. You believe your Future Mrs. Hockey Boy is right around the next corner. And you believe good things come to good people, and that if you want something bad enough, you can have it. No obstacle is too high. You’re all bright and shiny, Ryan, ready for your life to start.”

“You look at me and you see wife potential, don’t you? Another prize for your shelf. A game to be won. But I’ve been someone’s wife, Ryan,” she goes on, her gaze hardening as she drops her hands away from me. “And I will never be a man’s trophy again. We can laugh and dance and tease each other all night long. But when that sun rises, you’ll see the truth. You’ll see me for all that I am. And what I am is a waste of your time.”

Heart in my throat, I leave the dance floor, trying to put as much distance between Ryan and me as possible. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to follow after me. But I don’t look back. Somehow, I fear it might hurt more to see he’s not following me. Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision, as I duck out of the first open door I see. The moment the cool L.A. air hits my lungs, I suck in a ragged breath. “Fuck,” I whimper, hating how easy it is for Ryan to turn me into such a mess. I’m just tired. That’s what this is. And I’m probably a little drunk. Nothing some sleep and a few Advil can’t fix by morning.

I move right, angling for the lounge furniture. I’ll just take a minute to sit and breathe. And I’m taking these damn shoes off. Heck, at this point, I feel like throwing them in the pool. Maybe I’ll throw myself in too. Sink to the bottom. Count to one thousand. My pity party is interrupted by the sound of a deep voice. I turn the corner to see another secluded seating area. Soft patio lights hang on the underside of an arbor, casting a twinkling, golden glow. Ilmari paces in his shirtsleeves, phone to his ear. He’s speaking low in Finnish.

Ilmari finishes his phone call and turns to face me. “Sorry about that,” he says. “Not at all. I interrupted you,” I reply. “It’s a bit late for a phone call, isn’t it?” “Not in Finland. It’s nearly one in the afternoon in Helsinki.” “Right. Was that your agent?” “My adoptive father. I wanted them to hear from me the news of the wedding before word reached them via the press.” “And…is he happy for you? Is he sad to have missed the wedding?” “My aunt is devastated,” he replies, taking a seat on the couch opposite me. “She made me promise to bring them all to Finland this summer.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask. He clears his throat and shifts. “Mars—” “I fear I may have made a decision in haste,” he admits. “I am regretting it now immensely.” My stomach drops out. “Ohmygod. Mars, are you having second thoughts? ‘Cause if you walk out on Rachel after three hours of marriage—” “What? I’m not talking about Rachel—” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth. “Then is it the guys? If you think you’ll pry her away from them—” “No,” he says more forcefully. “Will you stop guessing and let me speak?” “You just said you made a decision in haste,” I counter. “Married after only four months to your doctor and two of your teammates feels pretty hasty to me, Mars.” “There was nothing hasty in my decision to make them mine. If you would stop talking, and let me speak, I will explain myself. Christ, you’re worse than Jake.” “Rude.” “Prove me wrong,” he counters with a glare.

“I’m afraid I made a bad investment,” he says over me. Well, that takes the wind right from my sails. “A bad investment?” I echo. “This is about money?” He nods. “Well…how bad of an investment? How big was your risk?” “Not that kind of investment,” he replies. “A few months ago, I invested in a nonprofit,” he explains. “Rachel warned me not to, but I was feeling…generous.”

“How generous were you?” I ask instead. “Five hundred thousand dollars.” I narrow my eyes at him. “What kind of nonprofit?” “They do sea turtle nest monitoring,” he replies. I sit back and blink, confused. “You donated half a million dollars to a group that monitors sea turtles?” He nods. “Well…why?” “It’s complicated,” he replies. “Try me.” He just shrugs. “Call it guilt.” “Guilt? You donated half a million dollars to a sea turtle nonprofit out of guilt? What, did you murder a family of sea turtles? Did you mow them down in a yacht or something?”

“Holy fuck,” I say on a sigh. “You’re telling me you look and sound like that, you play hockey the way you do. I’m sure you fuck like a god,” I add. “Our Rachel doesn’t settle for anything less than the best. And you’re environmentally conscious?” I’m not even surprised when he just nods. Yep, he’s the whole freaking package. No wonder Rachel and her boys locked him down so fast.

“Okay, Mars. Walk me through it. Why do you call it a bad investment?” He raises a brow at me. “Are you genuinely interested in this? I didn’t mean to unload my burdens on you—” “I asked,” I remind him gently. “And of course, I’m interested. Nonprofit management is kind of my jam.” “I thought you were a lawyer. Something corporate, right?” I laugh. “I’m a lawyer, yes. And ‘something corporate’ pretty much sums up how interesting my job is. But I also have a degree in nonprofit management. I’ll help you if I can.” He looks surprised. “Really?”

“Lay it on me, Mars. What’s the worry?” “Well, it turns out the nonprofit is less organized than I would have liked,” he admits. “Less well-funded. Less professionalized.” “Uh-oh. How bad is it?” He frowns. “It’s three people and a PO Box.” I snort a laugh. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to lau...

“This isn’t funny, Tess. This is not how I wanted to start my marriage. I don’t want the first action I take to be admitting a gross financial failure to my partners. I need them to see me as capable…responsible.” “Okay, if it’s possible, I like you even more now,” I admit. “Are you worried they’ll take the money and run?” “I’m worried they have no idea what to do with it,” he explains. “They admitted they’ve never handled such a large donation before. And there’s no plan in place for the longevity of the nonprofit.” “Well…it sounds like you need to build the nonprofit from the ground up,” I reply. “You’ve got the cash and you’v...

“What you need is a director of operations,” I explain. “Someone sharp with some relevant experience growing out a brand. And you need to expand out your donor pool immediately. You’d be surprised how quickly half a mil gets eaten up in a budget.” He gives me an appraising look. “Very well. You’re hired.” “What?” I cry. “Director of Operations. You have the job.” “Mars, I have a job,” I laugh. “A good job. High-powered corporate lawyer, remember?” “Just give me six months of your time,” he says. “Help me get this on the right track. Whatever your pay is, I’ll double it.”

“Oh, you’ll double my current salary?” He nods and I’m positive he’s totally serious. “Okay,” I say. “I accept the position.” His eyes go wide. “Really?” “Yep.” I lean forward, rubbing my hands together. “Now, as my first act as your Director of Operations, I’m firing myself, effective immediately.” “Why?” he grunts. “I’m way overpaid.” “Tess…” “What? Don’t try and cover up one bad financial decision with another one. Mars, you don’t want me as your director anyway. I don’t know a damn thing about sea turtles.”