Page 41

40

June

Brendon

S ummer training has started, and we’re already bitching about being up so early every day, but it’s the weekend, and we get to sleep in.

It’s also Paul’s birthday.

Thanks to Preston not being a total douche and liking Paul, he had cinnamon rolls delivered fresh and warm this morning.

There’s a knock on our door, and I get up out of bed in my chicken boxer briefs to answer it.

“Good morning, dear.” The warm smile of the bakery owner, Debbi, greets me. She’s a middle-aged woman with blonde hair that’s starting to go gray and lines on her face that prove she’s laughed a lot.

“Good morning, Pastry Fairy!” I give her a quick hug, which surprises her, and take the warm goods. “Thank you!”

She pats my arm, and I duck back inside the room. Thank fuck Paul sleeps like the dead and is still softly snoring.

I open the containers and set them on the bedside table, then swipe my finger through the frosting and paint his lips with it. It takes a minute because he moves and starts to wake up, but I manage.

Lying back down in bed, I slide my hand into his underwear and grip his morning wood, stroking him in loose strokes, and kiss him. He wakes with a groan, tasting like sugar and cinnamon. Paul thrusts into my hand, and I smile into the kiss when he reaches for me.

“Why do you taste like frosting?” He moans, leaning his forehead against mine as I squeeze his cock in a rhythm I know will get him to the edge quickly.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” I kiss his lips again quickly, then slide down his body and under the blankets to wrap my mouth around his dick.

His back arches when I suck on his head, my hand still working him over.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, reaching to tangle his fingers in my hair. He uses the grip to fuck into my mouth. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

His words are a growl a split second before his salty cum hits my tongue and I’m swallowing around him. Paul moans, his legs tightening around me and his hips arching and thrusting into my mouth until he’s spent and weak. The tight grip on my hair loosens, and he cups my cheek.

I lick him clean, the frosting and cinnamon from my finger leaving just a hint of sweetness on his skin that I lap up.

Paul hisses when I suck on his tip to get the last few drops of him, and I climb up his body.

“Mmm, sweet.” I run my finger over my lower lip and suck on it to make sure I didn’t waste any. “Breakfast of champions.”

Paul’s red, relaxed face smiles at me, and he pulls me in for a kiss. He drapes his legs over mine, trapping my hips against his as he explores my mouth, tasting himself on my tongue.

“Happy birthday, lover,” I whisper against his lips. “Get dressed for a day on the lake. We gotta go.” I wag my eyebrows at him, and a smile covers my face. I’m so fucking excited to spend a day on the water with my husband, best friends, and pup.

There’s a knock on the door, and I get up to answer it again. Scott is standing in the hallway with a wiggly, white puppy with adorable brown patches.

“Butts!” I reach for my excited boy, and he licks my face while slapping me with his whip-like tail. “Go say good morning to Daddy,” I tell him and set him on the floor.

Paul chuckles and reaches down to pick up the puppy who instantly attacks his face with kisses. Paul yells and wrestles with the puppy, laughing and twisting Butts in the blanket.

“Thanks for bringing him over today, I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Enjoy the weekend, and happy birthday, Paul.” Scott holds his hand up in a wave, and Paul shouts “Thank you” while hiding his face from the dog.

I start to close the door, but something stops it. Turning to look, Preston has his foot in the doorway and is looking unamused in swim trunks and a rash guard shirt.

“You aren’t even dressed yet. Let’s go. If we’re late, there won’t be any parking.”

Jeremy steps up behind Preston and slides his hand under Preston’s shirt. Preston grits his teeth but allows the touch. I think this is the first time I’ve seen them touch besides a hand on a thigh—okay, besides the time I walked in on them—and it’s fascinating.

Jeremy whispers something I don’t catch, and Preston’s head snaps to the side, looking over his shoulder at his fiancé.

Seymour jumps from the bed and charges for Preston and Jeremy, going between their legs and wrapping around their ankles, tangling his leash around them.

I laugh and step back to get some swim trunks. I have zero shame, so I change right there in the room, not giving a shit if they all look at my ass. It’s a nice ass.

My trunks are board shorts with dancing tacos on them. They’re awesome.

Paul sighs and does the same, changing in the middle of the room while Jeremy untangles them from the leash.

We grab supplies for the day, including the cinnamon rolls that have sadly cooled, and head out to Paul’s car. He gets in the driver’s seat, and I take the front passenger’s seat, making Preston fold his huge ass into the back with Jeremy and Mr. Butts. It’s better for everyone this way.

As Paul drives, I rip parts off the pastry and feed it to him. He nips at my fingertips and licks the frosting off every once in a while. Jeremy pretends to gag in the back seat, but it just makes me want to do it more.

Pulling a piece of the treat off, I turn and reach back to offer it to Preston, but he glares at me. When the bread brushes his lip, he slaps my hand, and I laugh. I offer it to Jeremy, but Preston takes it from me and feeds it to Jeremy himself.

Shaking my head, I sit back in my seat and bop my head and dance to the music. Sometimes I sing too, using my fist as a microphone.

Jeremy and Paul join in with the singing, and we roll the windows down. Mine and Jeremy’s longer hair flies everywhere, but we don’t care. This takes us back to the Lumberjacks, to a time when things were simpler. For the few years we were together there, we would do short road trips every chance we could, driving a few hours to go to a lake we hadn’t been to before, to see a game, or go skiing. Any excuse we could find to just drive. There’s something freeing about being on the freeway on your way to an adventure with your best friends, with the windows down and music blasting. Just a couple of dumb-ass kids eating junk food and seeing where the road takes them.

I’m singing “What’s My Age Again?” by Blink-182, serenading Preston just to get a rise out of him. Jeremy grabs my fist, singing into it with me, and Preston growls, which makes me burst into a fit of giggles. Paul reaches for my leg and rests his hand on my thigh as he drives, singing along and smiling.

Seeing him enjoying himself makes my heart burst with happiness. He’s usually pretty shut down and grumpy on his birthday. I always make sure we go out and do something, try to get his mind off his mom’s death, but it’s not very successful. Nothing will make me stop trying, though.

We’ve done movie marathons in the theater, mini golfing, rock wall climbing, and volunteered to help a kids’ hockey league. I have a feeling I was going about this the wrong way, though. Instead of distracting him from his pain, I have to celebrate his mom’s life and make today special. I plan to do both.

We get to Horseshoe Reservoir about eight thirty, which gives us plenty of time and decent parking. Jeremy goes inside to get the pontoon boat keys that we reserved for the day while the rest of us unpack the car. The ice chest is heavy with drinks, ice, and food. Not to mention all the food we packed in a big box so we shouldn’t have to come back in.

“Shirts off, time for sunblock,” Preston orders, holding up a spray can.

“If you wanted to see us half naked, all you had to do was ask, big man.” I wink at him and pull my shirt off. Paul smacks me upside the back of my head, and I laugh. Preston sprays us down with the sunblock, and I double-check that my backpack is with our stuff since it has most of my surprises. One is food, so it’s hidden in an ice chest that we bummed off Scott the other day.

Jeremy comes out of the office with paperwork and keys, sliding his sunglasses on.

We all grab our ball caps and sunglasses and lift shit to carry, following along behind Jeremy to our boat, with Seymour’s leash around my wrist.

In slip 16 is the twenty-foot pontoon boat we rented with bench seats and a cover over half the boat so we can get out of the sun if we need. We load all our shit up, only having to make two trips each, and we’re off. Jeremy is driving while Preston hovers behind him. He doesn’t give up that precious control often, but he’s never driven a boat while the rest of us grew up doing it during the summer. Paul stretches out on a bench and pops the top off a Dr Pepper. I stand at the front of the boat and take a picture of the guys, then grab some blue Takis from the snack box and park my ass on the other bench with Senor Butts to keep the weight even as we head out to a quieter spot on the water. He lifts his little feet onto the edge to look out over the water and lifts his snout to sniff the air.

This place is beautiful, all blue water and deep green pine trees on the hills. The reservoir is long, so if you look in the right direction it seems like the water goes on forever. The water is calm except for boat wakes, and the wind on my face puts a smile on my lips.

Music starts playing from behind me, and I turn to see Preston messing with his phone and holding a Bluetooth speaker.

He swipes through his phone and changes the playlist to some kind of summer hits.

“Uptown Funk” starts, and I get up, raising my hands in the air and start singing with Jeremy singing backup. Paul gets up and dances with me, wrapping a hand around my hip, while Seymour jumps around our feet.

I spin around and lean over to brace my hands on my knees, doing the worst twerk in history against my husband’s crotch, and try not to get my face licked by the puppy. He laughs and grabs a handful of my hair, pulling my back to his chest.

“How many of your holes am I going to fill today?” His sultry tone sends goose bumps over my skin and hardens my nipples.

“All of them.” I grind against him. “Hopefully more than once.”

He hums and bites the tattoo on my neck.

“Hey, hey!” Preston yells. “This is not a porno. Knock it off!”

The song changes to “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran, and I roll my body, dragging my hand down my throat and chest to my hip while making awkward eye contact with Preston.

“Maybe I planned a gang bang for Pauly boy’s birthday,” I yell, and Preston clenches his jaw.

“He is not touching me.” Paul pulls me closer to him, swaying his hips in a sensual movement, leading my movements, and getting my attention back on him.

He sings in my ear as Jeremy finds us a little cove that doesn’t currently have anyone else in it. I’m sure that won’t be the case all day, but we’ll enjoy the solitude while we have it.

Jeremy drops the anchor as close to shore as he’s comfortable getting, and he drags Preston to the open space where Paul and I are.

“I’m not dancing.”

Jeremy is not deterred and steps in front of him, holding his hips and moving against him. The big man just watches him with a stern expression and his arms crossed. I’m not sure why, but I find it hilarious and start laughing.

“You’re going to marry him, and you won’t dance with him?” Paul asks.

Preston lifts an eyebrow at Paul. “That’s correct.”

“But why? It’s only us out here.” I shrug, spreading my arms. “Even if you dance like a dumbass, it’s only us.”

“Not happening.”

I sigh and turn to face Paul, putting my forearm on his shoulder and interlacing our legs. His hand on my hip moves to my lower back, using it to lead.

The music changes, and my stomach growls. Paul chuckles, kisses me quickly, and steps back. I skip to the ice bin and pull out a premade peanut butter and honey sandwich, devouring it in about three bites, and chugging a water.

Jeremy opens the gate at the end of the boat so we can jump off and steps back under the shade for Preston to spray him down with sunblock.

I toss my hat and sunglasses onto a chair and get into a running stance.

“Everyone in the water!” I yell and run across the deck and into the water. It’s cold on my sun-heated skin but feels amazing, even for nine a.m. I hear Paul shout, “Yee haw,” and I swim out of the way so he doesn’t land on me. I turn just in time to see him cannonball into the water.

Mr. Butts stands at the open gate and barks at us, wagging his tail and whining. We call him and encourage him to jump, but he won’t do it, so I swim over and grab him. He swims around, then clings to me.

By some miracle, Jeremy convinces Preston to get into the water.

Okay, maybe it’s because I told him he wouldn’t be able to stop me from touching Jeremy’s butt if he didn’t.

We spend some time splashing around, wrestling, laughing, and swimming. It’s amazing how freeing it is out here. Nothing exists except the water, my people, and my puppy.

Preston starts talking hockey and how the new guys look. Since a few guys graduated, we have to break in new players and rearrange the lines. We talk about the good and bad points of each of the guys we’ve seen while we float in the water.

“I’m hungry. Feed me,” I complain. My arms and legs are wrapped around my husband.

“Come on then.” He pats my legs, and I release him. We all make our way back to the boat and grab food.

Preston grabs a turkey sandwich and takes a bite.

“You know you would play better if you didn’t eat that bread,” I tell him as I add potato chips to my sandwich.

He sighs heavily as I take a big crunchy bite and smile at him.

“Why do I put up with you again?”

“Because your scratching post likes me.” I ball up my trash and throw it at him. Jeremy snorts, and Paul sighs. I love fucking with Preston. He’s just so easy to rile up.

“Angh!”

Everyone turns to look at Paul when he makes a weird sound and is spitting his bite out into his hand. Seymour is there to try to help him out with that food, and Paul has to push him back with his foot.

His confusion as he looks at the mess in his hand and sees the black silicone band in his food has me holding my breath. We both want rings, but he’s been going back and forth about what he wants to do. These are cheap and can be replaced when he comes to a decision. I don’t care what the rings are made of as long as we have them.

He pulls the band out and cleans it off with a napkin.

“February twenty-fourth?” he asks, looking at me.

“It’s our anniversary date. I looked it up.” I’m proud as fuck of myself for that. I had to check the schedule to see which days we played Vegas, but I did it.

“You got married before or after the game?” Preston asks. Of course his weird ass would remember the exact dates of games we’ve played.

“It was the day before the game,” Paul says.

“Then your date is wrong.”

Oops.

“I looked it up!” I grab my phone and flip back to February to check the dates and, fuck, Preston is right. I huff and cross my arms. “Whatever, it was the thought that counts.”

I reach into my backpack and pull out the ring I had made for myself. It’s white, black, gold, and red. The Lumberjacks team colors. It’s where I met Paul and Jeremy. It’s where my life turned around. It’s where I was finally safe again.

Paul smiles when he sees it and takes it from me. He kneels on the deck at my feet, and I see Jeremy dig for his phone and I assume start recording. Preston grabs the puppy that’s trying to lick Paul’s face and settles back on the bench with Jeremy.

“Since I didn’t get to do this the night we got married, can I do the honors now?” Paul holds my left hand and the ring. He’s looking at me with so much love in his gaze it’s hard to keep eye contact. I know he loves me, but sometimes, it’s still hard to remember that I deserve that unconditional love.

“Do it, hubs.” My voice cracks, and he smiles at me while he slides the colored band onto my finger, then leans over and kisses it.

I slide off the bench to sit on my shins and reach for his left hand. Paul gives me the band he almost ate—okay, it probably wasn’t my best idea to put it in a sandwich—and I hold his gaze while I slide it on his finger.

Paul pulls my lips to his with a hand on the back of my neck. His mouth is warm against mine, full of happiness and acceptance that I never expected to find. He’s my everything.