I look at him, waiting.
“I am not going anywhere.” He shakes his head resolutely. “I promise.”
I blink hard, trying to really understand the words he’s telling me, my eyebrows tugging together when it starts to make sense. “But… but you love hockey.”
“I do love hockey.” He nods. “But it’s also just a game.”
With a soft smile, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the backs of my fingers, sending a shiver through my whole body. “My life is here in New York. With Lucky. And withyou. And I’m not leaving. And I need you to know that if there is ever a choice, I will choose my two girls over hockey every. Fucking. Time.”
Honestly, this man and his way with words, whether filthy or beautiful, brings me to a puddle of goo every time.
Reaching up, I cup Happy’s slightly stubbled jaw, taking in his beauty while briefly wondering how I managed to get so goddamn lucky. “How are you so perfect?”
“I don’t know; I was just born this way,” he says without missing a beat.
“God, I love you,” I whisper before crashing my lips to his.
Groaning into our kiss, Happy’s hands skate down my back, pulling me flush against him, gripping my ass and lifting me off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist, moaning as his tongue invades my mouth, grinding myself against him, suddenly desperate despite being at work, in a meeting room that definitely doesn’t have a lock.
“You’re my girl, yeah?” Happy murmurs against my mouth.
I nod. “Yes. In every way, I’m your girl.”
“You trust me?”
“Always.” I nod again, frantically.
He pulls back then, getting a better look at me. “Then let me handle Chris fuckin’ Garret, okay?”
I swallow hard, nodding tentatively. “Okay.”
CHAPTER 47
HAPPY
I’m so fucking late for practice, but honestly, I don’t even care. I decided something while I stayed awake, tossing and turning in bed last night, unable to sleep after what Lucky told me. Hannah isn’t just my girlfriend. She’s a part of my life. MineandLucky’s. Hannah and Lucky are the two halves of my heart. And the most important thing for me today, and every day that comes after this one, is making sure that my girls are taken care of. I won’t let anything come in between me and my heart. Nothing and no one else matters. Which is why I don’t give a shit about copping a fine for being late today. Making things right this morning with Hannah was worth way more than whatever the team throws at me.
When I finish suiting up, I carry my stick and gloves out of the locker room, treading the tunnel toward the practice rink, hearing the guys out on the ice without me, preparing myself for whatever jibes they throw my way for being almost an hour late. But I’m stopped dead in my tracks when the doors swing open and Chris Garret strolls out into the tunnel, pausing at the sight of me, his gaze scrupulous as it trails down, looking at me like I’m a piece of shit wedged in the tread of the sole of his shoe.
And I know I need to get out onto the ice, but when I catch ahint of the telltale smirk that tugs at Chris’s lips, I see fucking red.
Throwing my shit to the floor, I launch at him, grabbing him by the front of his quarter zip sweater and throwing him hard against the cement wall, his face turning sheet white as if he’s just witnessed his own life flashing before his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!” he shouts trying to push me off.
“You think you’re pretty fuckin’ slick, huh, Garret?” I shake him, roughing him up a little. I’m not going to hurt the guy, not here at least. Way too many cameras. But I want to see him squirm like the little bitch he is.
“You seem to be forgetting something.” I flash him a menacing smile and, leaning in so I’m barely an inch from his face, I lower my voice to a stage whisper as I say, “I know the truth.”
He scoffs. “Like anyone would believe a fuck up like you.”
I smile, ignoring his jab. “Stay the fuck away from Hannah. Or your wife finds out what a cheating son of a bitch you really are.”
“Uh-uh-uh, Slater.” Chris clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Nowyou’reforgetting something…” He grins, all smug and cocky, my right hand itching with the need to break his face. “If my wife finds out about Hannah, then so doeseveryoneelse.”
This fucking guy. I stare at him, narrowing my eyes threateningly, the hint of a goading smile ghosting my lips as I lean in again, even closer this time, my mouth a hairsbreadth from his ear as I say, “I’m not talking about Hannah…”
When I pull back, I catch the moment all the blood drains from his face, and I release him, grinning as I smooth down the front of his sweater before slapping the side of his face a few times, hard.
