“There are an awful lot of melons,” Cash muses with a smirk.
Axel ignores them, sneaks a cookie onto Remy’s plate, and moves on to business. “Jax, you’re master of ceremonies tonight.”
Jax piles his plate high with a shake of his head. “No can do, Papa Axe. I booked a session tonight.” As if he can sense Axel’s skepticism, he spreads some cheese on a cracker and plants his unfaltering bloodshot eyes on him. “You wanted me to work more to keep my mind off Rena not being here, so don’t give me”—his focus drifts to Remy, who is currently in a snack coma—“stuffabout it.”
Axel pats him on the back. “You’re right. Who’s going to cover? We have the WAGs After Dark Association tonight. Most are partners of hockey players, but there are some from other sports—soccer, football, baseball, basketball.”
Mercy is utterly enamored, hanging on every word as she sips a glass of sweet tea and helps herself to some veggies and dip. “So, these are wives of corrupt sports players?”
“No one here is corrupt,” Axel corrects. “We find a good number of hockey players prefer to handle things under the table, and we appeal to them for that. They want their domestic partners on board.”
Her brows knit together. “It’s frightening how accurate some of my books are.”
We might need to double back to that, but before I can delve into what hockey players she’s reading about, Cash kicks back in his chair and throws out one of his asinine thoughts.
“I can’t do it. That’s dangerous territory—a room full of women. And I’ve heard they’re wild.”
That has us all busting up because he’s dead serious, but still, I poke.
“And why is that, killer?”
“C’mon.” He swipes a look-at-this hand in front of his chest while flashing a smile that is pure devilry, which is absolutely the asset that scores him a pocketful of numbers, resulting in an ego the size of Louisiana. “The last thing we need is one of those hockey gals breaking it off with their guy because—”
Maddox tosses a grape at him, pelting him right in the temple, and spears another with his butterfly knife. “You’re sopuckingfull of it.”
“I’d be willing to bet that’s a title of a hockey romance book,” Mercy chimes in, which only enhances my curiosity about whatever the hell she’s reading.
Maddox chuckles at that but turns back to Axel. “Count me out. I don’t have a toast appropriate for women.”
“I’ll do it.”
All eyes drift to Mercy, who is glowing with mischief. After everything she’s been through, it’s a wonder she’s still standing, let alone lit up with joy.
“You want to do the toast?” Axel glances at me for approval, and when I subtly lower my chin in confirmation, he casts a proud smile at her. “That’s perfect, Mercy. I’m sure the WAGs will appreciate that.”
When evening rolls around, Mercy accompanies me on my walk-through, which is my new favorite thing. Afterward, we veer over to the conference and banquet center for her to fulfill her master of ceremonies duty.
She’s utterly lethal in a black velvet jumpsuit with a deep V-neckline that teases the swell of her breasts. The fitted bodice has a belt and seamlessly connects to the flared pant that hugs the curves of her ass and thighs. Ravishing. I’ll be tearing that off her as soon as we’re done.
When we strut through the doors and head toward the front, the women rise, but both of us catch sight of Axel, Maddox, and Cash.
Axel immediately spits out what we’re both wondering. “Bernard is staying with Remy for a few minutes. We wanted to be here.”
“Don’t trust me?” Mercy directs that specifically toward Axel, but it’s clearly in jest.
“The opposite,” he assures her. “This is like an initiation. We came to support.”
Maddox echoes that encouragement with, “Full faith, Merce.”
She extends her appreciation to them before turning her sardonic wit on Cash. “Thank you for fighting this mob of females to be here for me.”
“Worth it.” He winks and passes her a French 75 for her toast. “I got you, but for the record, they’re already talking about me.”
“Really?” Her amusement tugs up the corner of her mouth. “Are you a lip reader now?”
“Like a deaf gynecologist.”
Maddox, Axel, and I lose it. Mercy’s face blushes as she shakes her head, laughing. None of us saw that coming. If she had any nerves fluttering, that effectively decimated them.
