Page 132 of Forbidden Hockey

“What’s he doing?”

“Trav’s always quiet, but he’s turned to stone and barely takes his eyes off the door. I could tell he was itching to get away.”

“But he can’t leave the newlyweds without suspicion,” I say, finishing the thought for him, standing up. “Thanks for the pep talk, Coach. Was helpful.”

“It’ll be hard, but talk to your brother. That’s what I would want. I can’t promise he won’t be upset, but things’ll work out. Have a little faith, Dirk.”

That hits differently coming from Merc. If a guy like him can have a little faith, then surely I can? But fuck. If only I knew how to do that.

Everyone’s meandered to the parking lot, ready to go. Trav sets his searing gaze on me, and I know what it says.

We’ll be talking later, pretty boy.

Fuuuuck. I’m gonna incinerate where I stand. Looks like my other ass cheek’s getting some love. Or maybe the same one. I know better than to worry a guy like Trav and accept my comeuppance. But dayum. The wait might kill me.

Dash catapults his heavily muscled body at me. I only just catch him in time to stop us both from careening to the ground. He wraps his arms around me, and I crush him in a hug.

“I’m married, Dirky.”

“Yeah, I was there, remember?”

“But I wanted to see if we were still … y’know? Dirk ‘n’ Dash.”

I roll my eyes. “Nothing’s ever changed about us. I’ll always have two eyes on you.” But I do refrain from kissing his head like I would. He’s married, I’m so,sotaken, and—I smirk on the inside—Dash is gonna be my stepson one day.

Not really. But I’m gonna enjoy tormenting him with that little legality.

We head to The Wicklow for a dinner that Trav hosts. But while he’s footing the bill, I plan to do a lot of the work. The restaurant isn’t closed, but I hop on the line to help get our food ready. Don’t really need to with all the staff we have on, but I feel the pull. Like, this is something Trav and I are putting on.

As a couple.

Casey trounces into the kitchen with Sutter sauntering in behind him and helps himself to the bowl of fries on the pass bar.

“Hands off unless you’re paying,” I scold, rapping his hand with a set of tongs. “Sutter, you’re supposed to watch him.”

“Nah, man. He’s hungry. Getting in the way of that stomach’s like fighting gravity. You know that.”

He snatches the bowl. “Here you go, kitten. Make more, Dirk.”

The expo glares at us.

“Sorry about them,” I tell the guy as I throw some more fries into the deep fryer. “Get him out of here, Sutter.”

“Jeez. It’s wedding day, Dirk. Don’t be a downer,” Casey says.

“Out!”

Sutter drags him out of the kitchen with the fries before Casey ends up in the deep fryer. Stacey’s next.

“May I?”

“What?” I almost snap but remember that it’s halfhisday and soften my tone.

“Came to see if you needed help. Rhett and Logan showed. They want a bunch of modifiers—Logan’s is no bun, no sauces,with turkey instead of beef, and Rhett’s is double turkey, on the bun, no mayo, no bacon, no caramelized onions.”

“Got it. I’m fine.” I don’t want anyone’s help. I need to do this. Besides feeling like a co-host, if I don’t, Trav will, and he should be out there with his son and new son-in-law. Said son-in-law shouldn’t be back here helping me either. “Don’t you have a husband to claim?”

“I do, but he’s been abducted by Jack. Didn’t you see them walk by?” I haven’t. I’m too focused. “They went up to Trav’s apartment to see if they could dig out the karaoke machine.”