CHAPTER ONE
“Fuck me.”
Victor Reed grumbled his curse louder than he meant to. However, it probably spoke to just how much he overused the F word that none of his teammates even lifted their heads, all of them changing their clothes after a rather vicious postseason workout.
They’d lost in the second round of the playoffs a few nights ago, due to some sloppy-as-shit playing. Coach Fields had not yet gotten over the disheartening loss. To be honest, none of them had.
Hence the hardcore workout.
Despite being one of the oldest players on the Baltimore Stingrays, Victor didn’t consider himself in bad shape…at all. Regardless, today’s drills had kicked his ass. There wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t currently screaming at him. Luckily, he made a fuck-ton of money, which meant his house not only had a swimming pool and a sauna but also a hot tub. One he fully intended to use once he got home.
Then he recalled the reason for his initial curse.
The hot tub wasn’t on the books for this afternoon. If he tried to use it, his little niece, Pip, would want to hop in, and she was too young for long soaks in hundred-degree water.
“Shit,” he muttered, glowering down at his gym bag.
This time, his teammate Lucas—who they all called Rook—glanced in his direction. “Doing okay, Vic?”
He nodded, his scowl still firmly in place. “Yeah. I just need to get home.”
“Oh hey, that’s right!” Tank, another teammate—and good friend—walked over. “Viv is dropping Pip off this afternoon. You’re going to be in full-time uncle mode all summer.” Tank was a good-natured bastard on a bad day, but now that he’d fallen in love with McKenna Bailey, the team’s social media manager, they were forced to deal with an even louder, happier, more cheerful motherfucker. “You better get all those cuss words out now, Reed, because your charming vocabulary isn’t gonna fly with a five-year-old…or her nanny.”
Victor shot his friend a dirty look. “Fuck you.”
Tank slapped him on the shoulder, his words bouncing right off. “That’s the way.” He crooked his fingers in a “gimme more” gesture. “Keep ’em coming. I know you’ve got more in there. Hit me with a few ‘motherfuckers’ and ‘son-of-a-bitches’ and ‘bite me’s.’ I love when you talk dirty to me.”
Coach Dean Fields joined them, shaking his head. “Give the man a break. He’s about to become a temporary full-time parent. The last thing he needs is to deal with another five-year-old at work. Thought you were working on that ‘growing up’ thing,” Dean said to Tank, using air-quotes around the words “growing up.”
A bunch of the guys laughed at the coach’s diss, not that it impacted Tank at all. The guy’s nickname originated from his skating on the ice, because once Tank was in motion, he was nearly impossible to knock off course. However, the nicknamefit in another way. Tank’s skin was so thick, it was impenetrable. Any and all jokes, trash talking, and insults just bounced off the man.
Tank held his hand up. “I’m just joking around, Coach. Honest. And look at me, I’malreadya changed man.”
“Oh really?” Dean retorted.
“Yep. I’m definitely all mature and grown up and shit.”
Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “It’s going to take more than a few months of good behavior to convince me,” he warned him. “Don’t think I’m not watching you…veryclosely.”
Everyone else in the room could hear the menace in Dean’s voice, Tank included.
His smile remained in place…though when he replied, his tone was much more serious. “I’m rock solid, Dean. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Coach studied Tank’s face for thirty seconds before sighing and relaxing. “You and Kenny still coming over for dinner tonight?”
Tank nodded. “Yep. Need us to bring anything?”
Victor watched as Tank and Dean walked away, heading toward the coach’s office.
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Rook murmured, looking in the same direction as Victor.
“Tell me about it,” he agreed.
Tank, prior to the holidays, had been the team’s biggest playboy, the cocky ass occasionally showing up for team functions with not one buttwodates hanging on his arms. Management put the kibosh on that following some negative press, assigning McKenna to clean up their right winger’s reputation.
Tank falling in love with quiet, sweet McKenna wasn’t on anyone’s bingo card, and would have been shocking enough on its own. However, when that revelation was paired with the newsthat McKenna was actually the coach’s daughter—something only a handful of people in the organization knew—the team had been rockedandentertained for the past few weeks.
Now that the shock was starting to wear off, Victor could see just how good McKenna—whom her father affectionately called Kenny—was for Tank.
