Pucking Revenge : Chapter 3
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?” I whisper shout at Sebastian as he stalks back my way.
He just humiliated Brooks for no good reason.
Arms across his broad chest, he turns back to the ice. He doesn’t look in my direction, though it’s obvious his next words are meant for me. “Thought you were tired last night.”
“I was.” I’m fuming. The rink is cold, but suddenly, I want nothing more than to tug off my jacket. “You texted me at midnight. I’m not some fucking booty call who’s waiting around, ready to perform at all hours of the day.”
“But you were awake enough to hang out with Brooks.”
I scoff, fighting the urge to round on him and cause a scene. “You’re acting like a child. Brooks is my friend. That’s all we are.”
“Remember that next time I call. Don’t waste your time hanging out with boys when you can spend time with a man.”
The laugh that escapes me is bitter and a little too loud. And this time I can’t help but turn to him. “Ha. Because you’re acting like such a man right now. Forcing your nephew to do push-ups on the ice because he played with your toy.”
He glares at me, his brow pulled low and his chest heaving. “Watch your fucking tone. And stay away from him.”
Suddenly, standing between Beckett and Liv when she discovers he bought a dog sounds much more appealing than watching practice. “You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot hang out with.” I spin on my heel and stomp away, annoyed beyond belief.
I falter when Sebastian’s warning hits me. “But he’ll be the one to pay for it.”
Hours later, I’m still fuming, though I’m also filled with a perverse excitement, knowing I’m actively disobeying Sebastian.
The knock on my door comes at exactly five o’clock. When Brooks says he’ll do something, he does it. I, on the other hand, am still jumping around in my bedroom, tugging a pair of jeans up my legs. My hair is still a mess and my makeup is only half done.
“It’s open,” I holler from my bedroom as I button my jeans.
His footsteps signal his entry, along with a heavy sigh. “How many times have I told you to keep that locked?”
Peeking out from my bedroom, I shoot him a devilish grin. “I knew you were coming over.”
He’s hovering near the door, always the gentleman, ensuring my privacy. He’d never just wander into my bedroom. “You live in a building full of horny hockey players.”
“Who believe you’ve staked a claim on me.” I bat my eyes and shoot him a wide, innocent smile. Yes, every one of them believes we’re more than friends. No, I don’t mind. Langfield Corp has a no-fraternization policy, and this keeps me from having to shut any interested guys down.
Because the last thing I want to do is risk my job. I love what I do. And more importantly, I need this job.
Seb and I have kept our relationship discreet, obviously, and he’s promised that my job is safe either way. He divorced Brooks’s aunt years ago, but he’s still close to the guys, Brooks especially, and he worries it’ll upset them to know he’s dating. He’s not giving them enough credit. Brooks doesn’t judge people. That’s just not who he is. And he loves his uncle. He’d want him to be happy, regardless of what that looks like.
Although, right now, I don’t give a shit if Seb is happy. In fact, I’m tempted to text him a picture of Brooks and me just to piss him off. He thinks he can tell me who I can and cannot be friends with, but he seems to have forgotten who he’s dating.
Brooks stares me down, hands on his hips, but when I just keep smiling brightly, he drops his head and gives it a shake. “You’re a pain, you know that?”
“That I do.” I turn back so I can finish getting ready and holler over my shoulder. “Does Liv know she has an extra ten people coming to dinner?”
Brooks laughs. “Not likely. Knowing Beckett, he didn’t tell her.”
I toss my blond hair up in a high ponytail and coat my lips in a layer of gloss. In front of the mirror, I give them a good smack and inspect my reflection. With a quick glance at my outfit, which consists of jeans and a mocha sweater that hugs my curves—perfect for the fall vibe I’m rocking since it’s pumpkin season and I’m basic like that—I head out to the living room.
Brooks is typing furiously on his phone, his smile wide, when I exit my bedroom. He’s sporting his usual man bun. It’s pulled back neatly, though the few rogue curls that always try to sneak out are already making their escape. The man has, hands down, the best head of hair in Boston. It’s chocolate brown with natural highlights, and every time he turns those damn green eyes on me, I almost melt on the spot. My best friend is simply gorgeous. And far too humble.
In short, he’s the perfect man.
“Texting your new girlfriend?” I plaster a grin to my face and do my best to keep my tone even.
I’m not jealous, exactly. He asked me to go to dinner with him, not her, so clearly, he’s still making time for our friendship.
Brooks frowns, his dark brows drawing low. “Who?”
“The girl you told me about?”
He blinks, and his eyes clear in understanding. With a subtle nod, he slides his phone into his pocket. “Nah, just the boys. They’re taking bets on how Liv will kill Beckett.” He holds out his hand. “Ready to go?”
That’s another thing I love about my best friend. He’s so affectionate. That’s probably why his teammates think we’re together. Brooks is always touching me. It’s never sexual. He keeps every touch appropriate. Like now. He slips his palm against mine and leads me out the door.
Growing up, I never experienced this kind of affection. My mother was always working, and my father dipped out before I turned two, so I spent the majority of my childhood alone.
Meeting Lennox in college was like hitting the lottery. From that first day, she took me under her wing and forced me out of my shell.
When I met Brooks, I swore I’d found the person who completes me. There was a moment when we first met where I thought maybe we would be more than friends, but then I found out about the no-fraternization policy, so I put him in the friend zone. Fortunately for me, Brooks is the best kind of friend, always making time for me.
My heart squeezes in my chest, making it a little hard to breathe. I really hope this new girlfriend doesn’t ruin it for me.
“Sorry about this morning,” Brooks says when we reach the car.
“This morning?”
“With Coach and the guys.” He clears his throat and slides his hand from mine so he can set it on the small of my back as he opens the door. “I talked to them, by the way. They won’t be making comments anymore.”
I let out a soft laugh as I climb up into his truck. The thing is massive. It’s a souped-up F-150 in Bolts blue. It’s the only loud thing associated with Brooks. He so often flies under the radar, but the people who live between here and the arena know when Brooks pulls onto the road.
“You didn’t have to do that. I can handle myself, Brookie.”
He glares at me like he does every time I use that nickname. And I use it a lot. The man is so even and collected. I like getting a rise from him.
He shuts my door, rounds the hood of the truck, and climbs in beside me.
“Coach, on the other hand…” I hedge, keeping my teeth clenched tight to hide my hurt.
Seb was an asshole this morning.
What will Brooks think when he finds out we’re together? It’s going to be difficult enough admitting I lied to him about who I was dating, but when he realizes that he was punished because his uncle is a jealous asshole, he’ll probably be even more upset. He won’t get angry. Brooks never gets angry, but he’ll be hurt. And that’s so much worse.
“That’s on me too. I talked to him after practice. Made sure he knows nothing’s going on.” He grasps my hand again and squeezes. “Don’t worry, your job is safe. We all know you’d never risk it for a man.”
The laugh that bubbles out of me is strained. He’s right, I wouldn’t risk my job for a man. I need this job. Without it…
I shake the thoughts from my mind. It’s not worth stressing about. I’ve got this under control. No one will find out about Seb and me until there is something worth finding out about. We’re new. And I have no doubt that when that time comes, I can talk to Liv. She’ll help me ensure I can have it all. The man, the job, the security I’ve always craved. It’s not about the money, though money does provide security. Only people who have truly lived without it can understand just how much that really matters.
At this moment, I don’t care much about my relationship with Seb anyway. If he keeps acting like a two-year-old, the only people he’ll have left to play with will be the boys he coaches.
When Beckett and Liv’s brownstone comes into view, a bolt of excitement courses through me. Maybe it’s juvenile, but I love watching the two of them together. Beckett was such a grumpy ass before he convinced a drunken Liv to marry him in Vegas. Before that fateful night, he’d secretly pined for her for years, while she’d spent her days rolling her eyes at him.
And now he’s a ball of mush in her presence.
It makes me giddy.
Brooks shakes his head at me and chuckles. He always does that—laughs at my ridiculousness.
But I love making him smile, so I don’t intend to curb my insanity any time soon.
“Come on, Sar. Let’s go watch the show.”
The front door of the brownstone beside Beckett’s opens, and out walks Cortney Miller, his wife, Dylan, and their daughter, Willow.
I wave a hello as I hop out of the truck, and Dylan shoots us a surprised look. The redhead is Liv’s best friend. Until recently, Dylan and Liv, along with their two other best friends, lived together.
From the way Beckett talked about the place, one would think it was a house of horrors, but the house at the end of the block doesn’t look bad to me. It’s beautiful and well-kept, just like the other three brownstones.
“What are you guys doing here?” Cortney shakes Brooks’s hand, then angles in and presses a kiss to my cheek. Cortney Miller, former catcher for the Boston Revs—the baseball team owned by the Langfields, along with the Bolts—is now their general manager. He and Beckett spend far too much time together. Not only do they work side by side every day, but their wives are best friends, and they live next door to one another. I’ve even heard rumors of an interior door from one house to the other, though I haven’t seen it yet.
I’m not sure how Cortney puts up with the grump. He’s a giant with long blond hair, and he’s one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. Dylan, from what I can tell, is super chill. They’re the antithesis of Beckett, but maybe that’s why they get along so well.
Unable to fight the smile spreading across my face, I peek over at their six-month-old daughter. She’s all rosy cheeks and smiles, with red hair like her mother.
Brooks grins. “Beckett has a surprise for Liv, so he asked us to come by for moral support.”
I laugh. “Pretty sure he thinks that as long as there are witnesses, she won’t kill him. Is that why you’re heading there too?”
Dylan shakes her head, her golden eyes dancing with glee. “No, Liv has something to tell Beckett. She’s worried he might lose it. I guess we’ll be there for moral support too.”
My stomach sinks. What the hell could Liv have done wrong? “Everything okay?”
With a laugh, Dylan runs the pendant she’s wearing back and forth along its chain. “Oh, the universe has this covered. It will be fine, right, baby girl?”
The little girl babbles up at her mama, her lips glistening. God, she’s adorable.
Cortney whisks Willow from her mother’s arms. She snuggles into his shoulder, tugging at the long blond locks that he’s so famous for.
“I’m not sure the universe is ready for Beckett Langfield to get this news, but after what he put me through, I’m dying to watch the events unfold.”
Still confused, I follow the two of them up the steps to the brownstone, but I turn at the sound of a vehicle slowing in the road. A large black limo van pulls up to the curb, but rather than a limo driver behind the wheel, it’s Beckett.
That’s strange. Before he married Liv, he treated his prized Bentley with more love and care than any woman, yet he’s cruising around in an oversized van?
A loud laugh escapes Dylan, and she slaps a hand to her mouth. “Maybe he already knows.” The words are muffled, but her eyes are bright.
Beckett jumps out and hustles to the back of the vehicle. He hauls the rear door open and helps the most adorable dog to the sidewalk. Its fur is golden, and there’s a white patch over its eye.
With a leash in one hand, Beckett holds a finger up and shoots a scowl at Cortney. “Not a word, Man Bun.”
Dylan throws her head back and full-on guffaws. “This is going to be so good.”
Brooks drops to his knees and grabs for the puppy. “What’s the little guy’s name?”
My boss, who looks like a grumpy, well-groomed Henry Cavill and is dressed in a navy-blue suit, smiles proudly. “Deogi.”
“D-O-G?” I can’t help the confused frown that takes over my face.
“Yeah, Deogi.”
Brooks, who’s still kneeling, laughs as he looks up at his brother. “You can’t name your dog Dog.”
Beckett frowns. “I didn’t. I named it Deogi.”
“Oh my God. Someone stop the insanity,” Cortney grumbles behind me.
Dylan shuffles forward, still grinning, then sighs. “I really can’t wait for Liv to see this.”
Behind the sleek van, Gavin pulls up in his black Bugatti. This man is as ridiculous as Beckett used to be when it comes to his car. He constantly refers to it as his baby in an almost creepy way.
The passenger door flies open, and Aiden jumps from the front seat. He springs off the sidewalk and throws himself down next to Brooks. “A dog!” His eyes are saucers as he looks from Brooks to Beckett to Gavin and then back to the dog again. “Can I get one?”
Brooks throws out an arm and pushes him over. “You control you, bro. Do what you want.”
Aiden collapses on one side, but he doesn’t look away from the dog. He’s still all heart eyes and giant smiles.
“He’s not getting a puppy,” Gavin grumbles, rounding the hood of his car.
It’s impossible not to smile in the presence of all four Langfield brothers. I truly love them. Sure, they write my paycheck—Gavin more so than the rest, since he manages the hockey division of Langfield Corp—but when they’re all together, they’re hysterical.
“Come on,” Aiden whines, popping back up on his knees and nuzzling the dog.
“We do travel for like 70 percent of the year,” I offer. If I have to pick a side, I’m going with Gavin. Staying in his good graces is always priority number one. Paycheck signatures and all that.
Brooks just shakes his head and gives me a charming smile, then turns back to the dog. There he is, laughing off my ridiculousness again. But this time all I’m doing is stating a fact.
Gavin claps Beckett on the back. “Cute dog. Can’t wait to see Finn’s reaction.”
“It’ll probably be like Aiden’s.” Beckett cocks a brow at his youngest brother, who’s got his face buried in the fur of the dog’s neck.
“Hey,” Aiden whines, pulling back. “Are you calling me a child?”
“If the shoe fits,” Gavin mutters, heading up the steps. “Let’s get this show on the road. I’m starving. What are we having for dinner?”
The front door swings open, and Liv’s six-year-old son appears. He’s dressed in camo pants and holding a Nerf gun in front of his chest.
Beckett points at his little boy. “Gun dow—”
Finn drops the brightly colored weapon on the porch with a clatter and launches himself down the stairs, where he scoots in between Brooks and Aiden. “Whose dog?”
Beckett crouches low and holds the dog’s collar so he can’t jump on Finn. “Ours, Huck. What do you think?”
“Really?” he screeches. He’s up again, and then his little arms are circled around Beckett’s neck and squeezing him tight.
Beckett, miraculously, remains in his crouched position, still holding the dog, and now his son. “Yeah, let’s go find your mom, okay?”
Finn takes off first, and we all follow. The second he’s over the threshold, he screams, “Mom, Winnie, Addie! Bossman boughts us a dog!”
The foyer is tight as we all shuffle in. Aiden is bouncing on the balls of his feet, still as ecstatic as Finn. Beckett is half carrying the dog, who isn’t sure about following along with our obnoxious crowd. Gavin heads straight to the living room, pointing toward me. “We definitely need a drink for this.”
Brooks presses a palm to the small of my back and guides me forward and out of the craziness. “You seem far too excited to be here,” he teases, his breath warm on my neck.
The big family thing is still a novelty to me. When I was a kid, it was just Mom and me. Then, when I was in high school, my brother was born. After that, she was home even less. Her days were spent shuttling him to doctors’ appointments and therapy or working so she could afford to take him to those appointments and therapy.
More often than not, I was home watching television while my brother hung out in his crib. My friends were Monica and Rachel or Pacey and Joey on Dawson’s Creek. When he graduated from the crib, I spent my days keeping him entertained in ways that wouldn’t wear him out. To this day, my eye still twitches any time I see a puzzle.
The chaos of a big family like this is enthralling. I don’t quite understand all the intricacies, but like Gavin, I’m predicting an evening full of entertainment, so a drink sounds perfect.
“You did what now?”
We’ve all filtered into the living room when Liv appears, with their youngest daughter Addie in tow. Addie is four and since the day I met her, I’ve never not seen her in anything but pigtails. Liv pulls up short, and her eyes go wide when she catches sight of the audience.
With a lip caught between her teeth, she scans us, then her attention falls to the dog. For a long moment, she doesn’t move. Then, without a word, she closes her eyes. Knowing Liv, she’s taking deep breaths in for four, then letting them out for four. It’s what she does at work. At least when Beckett is around. I’ve never seen anyone get under her skin quite the way he does.
“Meet Deogi,” Beckett says, holding up one end of the leash. The other end is still clipped to the puppy that’s now letting out the cutest little playful growls and wrestling with Finn.
Gavin spits out his drink. “He named the dog Dog?”
“What did you do?” Liv’s hands are on her hips now.
Winnie, Liv’s daughter, appears at the bottom of the stairs. Like her little brother, the ten-year-old instantly drops to the floor, her grin wide. She’s Liv’s mini me, with brown hair and brown eyes, but she’s got a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. And, if I’m not mistaken, the braces are new. Poor kid, I’ve always been told those things suck. We couldn’t afford them, so I have an imperfect smile, but what can ya do?
Beckett moves closer to Liv, his voice soft. “We got married because of a dog.”
“Because you ran over a dog,” Gavin calls.
Turning to Brooks, I cover my mouth to keep from laughing. His green eyes are bright and full of humor.
“I didn’t hit the dog,” Beckett calls back, though he doesn’t turn away from his wife. “Charlie did.”
Their driver.
Gavin snorts. “That’s not what the papers said.”
“Enough,” Liv cries, craning her neck to look around her husband. “Gavin, why did you let him get a dog?”
Gavin’s eyes go wide, and this time I can’t hold in the giggle bubbling up inside me. Clearly, he didn’t expect to be put in the hot seat. He cocks a brow at Beckett, then shrugs and tugs on the sleeves of his suit jacket. He leaves us all holding our breath in anticipation for another long moment before he lets out a heavy sigh.
“He was stuck at the farm, Liv.” Behind the bar, he uncorks a bottle of Jackson pinot noir and snags a wineglass, no doubt to give him something other than Liv to focus on while he straight-up makes up stories.
Beckett nods. “Yes, the farm.” The words are tentative. Like the rest of us, he probably doesn’t know where Gavin is going with this.
“What farm?” Liv demands.
“The one on Blackstone.” A smirk teases Gavin’s lips, like he’s really settling into his story. He holds out the glass of wine and raises his brows at me, so I shuffle closer and accept it.
It’s at this point that I realize he means the shelter. The team did a photo shoot with puppies at that particular one last season. They raised quite a bit of money for new equipment and supplies for the shelter, and they brought a lot of attention to the place. Within days, almost every dog had been adopted. We have another event planned next week.
“Anyway, Beckett was all ‘the dog is not staying at the ducking farm.’ He was shouting and yelling and making a scene. The volunteers there were confused about the ducks. They didn’t understand that your husband has just lost his mind and doesn’t curse anymore.” Gavin takes a deep breath. “So they handed him the dog.”
This guy is good. Even I’m starting to believe this all really went down, when I know firsthand that Gavin was just as shocked to see the puppy as Liv.
Liv shakes her head and turns to me. “He bought a dog,” she mouths, her eyes wide and her face ashen.
I hold my glass of wine out to her. She needs this more than me. Although she might need something stronger.
She bites her lip and spins back to her husband. “Beckett, there are too many of us already. We can’t add a dog to the mix. Five kids and a dog?” She closes her eyes again. This time she tips her head back and counts out loud. “Breathe, one, two, three.”
Dylan has now taken up residence next to her, rubbing her shoulders and murmuring soothing words.
Beckett shakes his head. “Livy, we’ve got plenty of room. And we only have three kids.”
Liv’s eyes snap open, and she zeros in on him. Instantly, the modicum of calm she found is gone. Her chest rises and falls, and her nostrils flare. “No, Beckett. Five.”
He holds up a hand and counts the kids off on his fingers. “Bear, Huckleberry Finn, and Little One. Three.” Those three fingers are still in the air, like he’s using the prop to emphasize his point.
Liv smiles. “Five.”
He spins and frowns at Cortney. “What did you do? If you upset Dylan again, I’ll kill you.”
Dylan steps in front of him and pats him on the arm, giving him the most serene smile I think I’ve ever seen. “She’s not talking about my kids.”
It hits me then, why Liv asked Dylan and Cortney to come over, and my heart flips in my chest.
Beckett still hasn’t put the pieces together. “Medusa and the shining twins are not moving in here! We just got our own space. I’ll talk to Enzo. They’ll work through it. Surely she’s figured out how to apologize by now.”
I’m lost now, but I think Medusa’s his nickname for another one of his wife’s friends.
Liv silences him by cupping a hand over his mouth. Then she grasps his wrist and presses his palm to her stomach. “Not our friends’ kids, Beckett.” She says each word slowly, her brows raised like she’s urging him to pick up on the meaning behind them. “Our kids.”
Beckett blinks half a dozen times, then drops his focus from Liv’s face to where she’s holding his hand against her stomach.
Brooks nudges me, distracting me from the scene. His green eyes swim with warmth and happiness as it hits him too. He’s going to be an uncle again.
“Our kids?” Beckett rasps.
Liv nods. “We’re having twins, Bossman.”
While Beckett stands there dumbstruck, the house erupts. Gavin lets out an ear-piercing whistle in celebration. Beside me, Brooks claps, and Addie joins in, grinning up at him. Aiden throws his arms around Liv and lifts her off the ground. Winnie and Finn are both hopping up and down, asking a million questions. There’s joy in every corner of the room.
After Beckett has finally come out of his shock, and he’s stolen a quiet moment with his wife to perhaps celebrate, I wander over to congratulate her, and she pulls me in for a hug.
“Why are you all here, anyway?” She glances at Brooks, then focuses on me again.
“Oh, Beckett wanted support when he brought the dog in, so he texted the guys.”
“And you just so happened to be with Brooks when that text came through?” The smile she’s wearing is full of teasing, like maybe she’s under the impression we’re more than just friends.
“Liv…”
She ducks in close and squeezes my arm. “Your secret is safe with me.”
I clasp her wrists, searching for the words to explain that there’s no secret, but then it dawns on me that there is, in fact, a secret. It’s just not what she thinks it is. If she’s under the impression that I’m dating Brooks, and she’s okay with it, then it shouldn’t bother her if it turns out that I’m actually dating another person within the organization. Say, the coach…
If I wasn’t so mad at Seb right now, I’d probably text him.
But since I am, I settle at the table and ask Liv a thousand questions. Then I listen to her chat with Dylan about the joys of pregnancy and children and families. Though they make it clear not every aspect is picture perfect, she wears a soft smile all night.
And don’t even get me started on Beckett. The man’s chest is puffed out, and he’s beaming.
When my phone lights up on the table in front of me, I immediately put my hand over it—a habit I’ve acquired since my secret relationship began. Subtly, I ease it into my lap and unlock the screen.
SL: Come over.
I roll my eyes. This guy has got to be kidding me.
Me: Not home.
SL: Where are you?
Of its own volition, my mouth turns up. My heart picks up its pace too, because I’m about to piss him off, and I’m enjoying the prospect of it far too much.
Me: Hanging with Brooks.
With that, I silence my phone and slide it into my back pocket. I refuse to let him ruin anything else for me today. When I look up, Brooks is watching me from the bar. Around him, his brothers are chatting and laughing. He winks and holds up his glass, the universal sign for Do you want another drink?
I smile and excuse myself from the ladies. Tonight has been a good night, and I’m going to enjoy it with my best friend.