Page 10

10

LAUREL

“I wanna try out.”

Kendall’s sudden declaration shattered the comfortable silence in the car. Laurel turned sharply in her seat, eyes widening, while Dustin’s hands momentarily tensed on the steering wheel.

“For what?” Laurel asked hesitantly, already wary of whatever mischief her little sister was about to drag them into.

“Hockey,” Kendall announced proudly. “Paige told me that her new stepdad is going to teach her how to play and maybe even form a team. And I want in.” She turned to Dustin with a smug smile. “Which means you, dear brother-in-law, are obligated to put me on the team.”

Dustin scoffed, his lips quirking in amusement. “How’s that figure?”

“You’re related,” she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He raised a brow, grinning. “So now you choose to claim that and actually be nice to me?”

“I was nice earlier.”

Dustin chuckled, tossing a quick glance at Laurel, who was still recovering from the bombshell Kendall had just dropped. “Yeah, you were. I’ll give you that. I suppose that if I hear something about a team, then?—”

“Her stepdad is Boucher,” Kendall interrupted with unwavering determination. “Don’t play dumb. You can go straight to the guy himself and make sure I get a spot.”

Dustin let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Anyone ever tell you that you are direct and to the point, kid? I mean, scarily so.”

“Are you feeling threatened, Little Boy Blue ?” Kendall teased, her voice dripping with wicked delight.

Laurel stiffened. The shift in Kendall’s tone sent a chill down her spine. She turned sharply in her seat, shooting her sister a silent, warning glare. If Kendall so much as hinted at things she had no business discussing, Laurel would personally dismantle her new computer, piece by piece, and make her earn it back one agonizing inch at a time.

“Do not ,” Laurel growled in a hushed hiss.

Kendall grinned, completely unfazed. “Oh, come off it. It’s not like it’s a big secret. Besides, you’re married. Are you telling me that it’s okay to keep secrets in a marriage? Because that doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Laurel’s heart slammed against her ribs.

“Kendall, leave your sister alone,” Dustin said evenly, his voice calm but firm.

Laurel turned to him in shock. Of all people, she hadn’t expected him to come to her defense.

“It’s not a secret if it’s a private matter,” Dustin continued, eyes flicking toward the rearview mirror. “What happens in our marriage is our business. When Laurel is ready to share, then I’ll know. Until then, it’s hers to keep.”

Laurel sucked in a breath. Her throat tightened as a mix of emotions tangled inside her—relief, gratitude, and something deeper, something more complicated that she didn’t have the energy to untangle right now.

“What?” Kendall held up her hands, looking far too innocent. “I didn’t say a thing.”

“Kendall… so help me?—”

“I promise ! I didn’t tell him.”

Dustin pulled into the garage, shaking his head. “Kendall barely speaks to me,” he pointed out dryly. “I’m hoping that changes if I talk to Boucher about the team and she finally realizes I’m part of the family—not some reject. Now, can we go up, or should we stay here and discuss whatever this mysterious secret is?”

“Nope!” Laurel said quickly, practically throwing open her door. Kendall followed without hesitation, thankfully taking the cue to drop the conversation.

The elevator ride was eerily quiet. Laurel stole a glance at Dustin, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he stared straight ahead, his gaze locked on the elevator doors as if they had personally offended him.

Her stomach twisted.

She hated this feeling—the weight of unsaid words pressing down on her, the suffocating silence that stretched too long between them.

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, Kendall pushed past them with an eager bounce in her step, brandishing her key like a trophy. She loved being the one to unlock the door, relishing every bit of independence it gave her.

Fine. Let her have it.

Laurel was just grateful to get her inside and in bed. Maybe, if she was lucky, all of this would be forgotten by morning.

“It’s late,” Dustin said as they stepped inside, his voice gentler now. “Do you want some hot tea, Laurel? Kendall?”

“Ugh. What are you— ninety ?” Kendall wrinkled her nose in disgust. “No. I’m gonna take a juice box and?—”

“Ugh,” Dustin mocked, mirroring her tone perfectly. “What are you— two ?”

Kendall gasped, eyes narrowing. “Har… har…”

“Gotcha.”

To Laurel’s disbelief, they shared a grin as he handed her sister a juice box, like some kind of peace offering.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he added casually. “I’m making French toast for breakfast.”

“So I should sleep in?” Kendall sassed.

“No, I’m telling you to go to bed without saying the words—because you don’t need me acting like your big brother,” Dustin shot back smoothly, smirking. “I’m just saying that I make a mean French toast. Thick slices. Berries. Syrup…”

“Good night,” Kendall interrupted, waving him off as she disappeared down the hall, juice box in hand.

Dustin exhaled, shaking his head. “Why do I feel like a firework dud right now? That was too easy. Too uneventful.”

Laurel crossed her arms, smirking. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

“Very much so,” he admitted, his lips twitching into a small smile. He glanced at her. “Did you still want that hot tea?”

She hesitated for only a second.

“…Yeah. I’d love a cup.”

Laurel just sat there on the couch, looking at him as he moved about in the kitchen and sighed. Her secret was safe, but what would that even get her? Dustin had shown little interest at all in her, and the one time she picked up that he might be looking at her differently, he flat out said ‘no’ and insinuated that they should be friends… with a possibility of a ‘someday maybe’ in the far-off future. All she had was her dreams, her imagination, and her fantasies – which he couldn’t know were based on him.

She was doing what she was told in order to keep her publisher happy. When they ordered ‘Add more spice,’ and Laurel’s sales took off… she followed their direction without question. If they said ‘write a contemporary romance’ – that was her next book. If they wanted a historical romance, then there would be soooo many ripped bodices in her next project. Yeah, it was incredibly embarrassing to find out Kendall was reading all of her books because they were not intended for her age group – nor did she realize that her sister was looking at her vision board.

Her vision board was currently in the bottom of a box, wrapped in tissue paper, and hidden from Dustin. She would burn it before she ever showed it to him or admitted that she created her characters from aspects of his personality. Yeah, her stupid crush was all-encompassing and unrequited… and she probably should have given up long ago.

“Laurel?”

She blinked, snapping out of her daze as the sound of Dustin’s voice pulled her back to the present. Turning her head, she found him settling onto the couch beside her, his broad frame sinking into the cushions with an easy familiarity. In his hands, he balanced two steaming mugs, the tea tags dangling over the edges, swaying slightly with each movement.

“Your tea?”

“Oh.” She hesitated before reaching for the warm ceramic, the heat seeping into her fingers as she wrapped them around the mug. “Thank you. Sorry, I guess I got distracted… or maybe I’m just tired.”

“Or both?” he offered, his voice soft, laced with something that felt suspiciously like concern.

She huffed a small laugh, nodding. “Yeah, maybe both.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, the quiet between them settling like a comfortable blanket.

“It was nice meeting your team,” she admitted, glancing his way. “Everyone was so friendly, and it was great seeing all the families there.”

“That was nice tonight, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “I thought it was sweet how they were handing out shirts, beads, and so many goodies. The whole team seems really invested in making a difference for the fans.”

Dustin turned to her with an easy smile, the kind that made her stomach feel oddly light. “I’m glad you went.”

“Me too,” she whispered, then hesitated. A thread of doubt wove through her words as she admitted, “I didn’t want it to be weird for you.”

“Why would it be?”

She bit her lip. “Because we’re just friends… and they’re all married. I mean, just look at Coeur—that man has no shame.” She leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Dustin let out a low chuckle, his whole body shaking with amusement. “Can you believe they’re going to mic up Coeur and Boucher for the first game?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh boy…”

“Yep.” His grin deepened as he shot her a sideways look. “The Coyotes have this whole reputation for being one of the cleanest-talking teams in the league. They figured those two would be a good test run.”

She arched a brow. “Why not you?”

Dustin gave her a lopsided smirk, his expression turning almost sheepish. “I’ve been known to slip once or twice.”

Her jaw dropped in mock horror. “You?” she gasped. “Are you telling me that Mr. Nice Guy has a potty mouth on the ice?”

His smirk turned rueful. “Well, if you’re hurting and someone knocks you down, you don’t exactly yell ‘ ouch’ or ‘darn it .’”

She was about to tease him when, suddenly, he… twitched. His face twitched at her.

At least, she thought he did.

No, wait .

He winked at her.

…Or did he?

Her brows furrowed, suspicion flickering across her face. “Do you have something in your eye?”

Dustin sighed heavily, looking away as he rubbed his fingers across his face, but his ears—oh, his ears—had turned red.

Oh.

Her heart gave a slow, heavy thud.

“Did you actually wink at me?” she asked, her voice careful, almost disbelieving.

His hand froze mid-motion. “Maybe?”

She gawked. “Why?”

He shrugged, far too casual. “Because I felt like it.”

“But why?” she pressed, her pulse fluttering unexpectedly. “We’re just sitting here, drinking tea. That’s not exactly a reason for a wink. Winks are…” She swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth of his body beside hers. “They’re playful. Flirty. And you’re not.”

Dustin’s jaw tensed. “You’re right.” His voice was tight, clipped. “I think I’ll go stretch before bed.”

She blinked, startled by the abrupt shift. “I’m working on a chapter, so I’ll try not to wake you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

For a second, neither of them moved. Their gazes locked, an unspoken energy crackling between them. Then, just as suddenly, Dustin pushed off the couch, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

And that’s when it hit her.

Oh gosh.

She’d just completely dismissed his attempt at flirting.

Laurel sat frozen, replaying the last few minutes in her head. At the event tonight, it had felt like the stars had finally aligned, nudging them into the same orbit—right time, right place, right moment. And now? Now, she had derailed the entire thing with all the grace of a train wreck.

If she were a grandfather clock, her gears and springs would’ve just exploded from her insides like a cartoon, leaving her cuckoo bird with little ‘Xs over its eyes.

“I’m so clueless,” she whispered, pressing her hands to her face. “He’s never going to look at me differently if I don’t figure out how to… I don’t know how to play the game. Why is this so much easier in a romance book?”

In a book, she controlled everything. The tension, the timing, the grand gestures. But this? This was real. Messy. Unscripted. And she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Sighing heavily, she pushed herself off the couch, heading toward her library in defeat. But as she reached the doorway, she caught a glimpse of Dustin down the hall.

He was stretching, his long, lean muscles shifting beneath his shirt, his pants slung low on his hips.

She knew she shouldn’t stare.

But she did.

Oh gosh, did she stare, her eyes drinking in the sight of him like a person dying of dehydration all because he couldn’t see her.

And maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t quite ready to admit how much she wished he’d wink at her again.

Sitting down at her desk, she let out another sigh.Utterly. Unmotivated.

The soft knock on the door barely registered over the sound of Laurel’s thoughts spinning in circles. She sat at her desk, pretending to work, but her mind was light-years away. Then?—

"Hey…"

Her head jerked up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. Dustin stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space, his gaze locked onto hers. Her breath caught as he stepped inside, his movements deliberate, almost hesitant, before he shut the door behind him.

"Can we talk?"

There was something in his tone—an edge she couldn’t quite place. She nodded automatically. "Of course."

"No, I mean, really talk—no more filters or tiptoeing around things."

Her fingers curled against the desk. Her pulse stuttered. "I’m not?—"

"I am," he admitted, his voice lower now, almost vulnerable. A pause stretched between them, thick with tension. "We need to talk about us."

A hollow ache bloomed in her chest. Her crush—her impossible, foolish, secret crush—felt like it was about to be dragged into the light, placed on an altar, and torn apart between them.

"What’s wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.Dustin took a step forward, his expression unreadable.

"Dustin, what is wrong?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, palm up. "Give me your hand."

Her breath hitched as she placed her trembling hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, his thumb brushing slow, mesmerizing circles over the back of her hand. She swallowed hard. This was the kind of moment she read about, the kind she dreamed about—when the hero would turn the heroine’s hand over, lift it to his lips?—

Her thoughts shattered when Dustin did exactly that. His lips were soft as they brushed against her palm, lingering just long enough to send shivers racing down her spine.

She gasped, her knees going weak as he pulled her hand to his chest, pressing it against the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat. His other hand reached for hers, encasing it in his warmth, and she felt utterly weightless, as if she were floating in the space between them.

"Um, hi…" she barely managed to whisper.

"Hi," he murmured back, his voice rich with something unspoken. His eyes—those bright, soul-searching eyes—held hers as he spoke again, his words dropping between them like an unguarded confession. "I know this must feel weird, but I really liked you wearing my uniform tonight at the event. You looked hot wearing my name across your back."

The air in her lungs turned to vapor. She could only stare, utterly and completely speechless.

Dustin’s gaze darkened with amusement as her lips parted, but nothing—no words, no witty reply—came out. She made a sound, a helpless, squeaky kind of noise, but that was it.

"So hot…" he breathed, his grip on her hand tightening for half a second before everything shifted.

It happened in slow motion.

One moment, she was standing there, stunned. The next—he was guiding her arm up, stretching it above her head. His other hand left hers, sliding down to her lower back just before he nudged her backward. Her wrist met the wall, pinned in place, and before she could process it, his knee was between her legs, pressing?—

"Oh gosh!" she yelped, her heart slamming against her ribs. The sheer force of him, the masculine energy radiating from his frame—it was unlike anything she’d ever known.

Dustin was breathing just as erratically as she was, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. His closeness overwhelmed her, his body heat wrapping around her like a cocoon, and yet, all she could think about was the way her hand still pressed against his chest—grounding her, anchoring her.

"Things have changed," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to hers. "So we’re gonna have to change too… adjust …"

She nodded, dazed, barely able to function, and?—

Oh, that smile. That slow, devastating half-smile that haunted her daydreams. It tugged at his lips, lazy and confident, as his head dipped lower, his eyelids heavy.

"I’m going to smudge up your glasses," he teased, his voice so tender, it made her knees weak.

"Please do," she whispered breathlessly, willing to let him do anything at this point. “I meant, ‘go ahead’ because they are dirty anyhow.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. He reached up, sliding her glasses off her nose, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed them onto the desk.

"I am so grateful that I’m nearsighted right now."

"I’m grateful that the door is locked and Kendall went to bed—because I think I want to kiss my wife."

The word wife sent an electric jolt through her. She swallowed, nodding again.

Dustin leaned in, his lips brushing her throat first, featherlight. His head nudged against her chin, tilting it up, forcing her to expose the delicate curve of her neck. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

His breath skated over her skin, warm and intoxicating, and when his lips met her throat in a series of slow, teasing kisses, her entire body shuddered.

"I like feeling you against me…" he murmured, the words sending a shiver down her spine. "You are so soft… smell so good…"

Laurel exhaled shakily. "I’m really glad I remembered to put on deodorant."

Dustin stilled—then burst into quiet laughter, his forehead dropping against her shoulder.

"I’m trying to be sexy here…" he chuckled.

"You’re doing a bang-up job," she assured him.

He groaned, still laughing. "You’re making me laugh."

"I like laughter between us."

Something shifted in his expression. His amusement softened into something deeper, something unguarded. "You know what? I think I do too, Laurel…"

His lips traced a slow path along her jawline, the faintest graze of his teeth sending sparks through her veins.

"You smell like peach cobbler."

"My lotion," she admitted, barely able to think.

"I love it."

"Yeah, gonna bathe in it from now on."

His hand slid lower, over the curve of her hip, pulling her even closer.

"You’re killing me…" she whispered, her voice thick with longing.

He chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. "How’s it feel? You’ve been killing me for a few days now."

It felt like fire, like freefalling, like something she could never undo.

"Oh my gosh, can you get with the smooches instead of torturing me?"

His laugh was downright sinful. "I think I like torturing you."

"Two can play that game," she replied, her voice almost hoarse with emotion as she stared into those gleaming eyes, treasuring that smile, and felt him brush his nose against hers, his lips hovering just out of reach.

“This is me, inviting you to a match,” he murmured, his voice a whispered promise, a challenge wrapped in intimacy. His words were velvet-soft yet edged with a quiet determination, igniting something deep inside her. And just like that, the game was on.

“We’re not going backward with this,” he continued, his gaze locked on hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “We’re going to figure this out, right?”

Laurel couldn’t speak—not when her heart was pounding so fiercely, not when her entire body hummed with awareness of him. Instead, she nodded, her thick curls bouncing slightly as she gave an emphatic, silent yes. If he had asked for the moon at that moment, she would have found a way to reach for it. If he had asked for her very soul, she might have offered it freely. She was lost in him—utterly, completely, recklessly his.

“You and me…” His voice dipped, coaxing, urging her to step into the unspoken truth that had always existed between them.

“Us…” she whispered, barely able to shape the word around the lump of emotion in her throat.

“A couple…”

“A family…”

“Mine.” The word came out as a low growl, deep and possessive, sending a shiver racing down her spine. And then his lips crashed against hers, and nothing else mattered.

Forget whatever else he was doing—whether it was for her pleasure, for his amusement, or simply to prolong this exquisite torment—because this kiss?

This was his taking .

This was him claiming her, not with gentle coaxing or hesitant exploration, but with raw, unbridled need. His mouth slanted over hers, commanding, desperate, tasting of too many moments lost to hesitation from either of them. His fingers threaded into her hair, holding her close as if he was afraid she might slip away.

When he finally broke the kiss, he didn’t pull back entirely. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathless, both of them trembling. The heat between them was undeniable, but so was the emotion burning just beneath the surface.

“I want so much more from you…” His voice was husky, rough with restraint, and tinged with something she dared to hope was love.

“Hallelujah – I’m ready.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, nodding as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I’m ready too—but I don’t just want a fling, Laurel. I want more than just this moment. I want everything … including dating my wife.”

Her breath caught, and she blinked up at him, her vision blurring almost instantly with unshed tears at the sweetness of that singular sentence. Her crush, her new husband, wanted to date her? To get to know her better? Dating meant ‘falling’ eventually, right?

“Really?” she whispered, her heart cracking open at his words.

“Yeah,” he said softly, smiling as if she was the only thing in his world. “I think we should spend a little more time alone getting to know each other. Want to go out with me tomorrow evening?”

She let out a shaky, disbelieving laugh, still overwhelmed, still floating. “I’d love to.”

“There’s a kids’ craft place near a hot yoga studio, and I thought…” He hesitated, grinning. “Maybe we could try it together? And then we can all grab dinner afterward so Kendall is included, but for a while – it could be just us.”

Laurel raised a brow, warmth spreading through her at the thought of them—together, as a unit, as something real. “You want to do hot yoga with me?”

“I thought we could give it a shot,” he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Besides, after all that stretching, I figured we’d earn ourselves a good meal.”

She tilted her head, considering. “That does sound divine…” A playful glint sparkled in her eyes as she added, “But only if those kisses come as my dessert.”

His gaze darkened, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “Anytime. Now, do us both a favor and go get ready for bed so I can take a cold shower for the next hour or so.”