Page 9

9

LAFRENIéRE

“Before we go inside, if there is anything anyone needs to get off their chest, scream, accuse, holler, shout, or snarl at someone – specifically me for existing – please go ahead,” Dustin grumbled, sitting in the driver’s seat of his vehicle, having been the recipient of Kendall’s remarks all morning long… and he was trying to hide his limp. The attitudes, the smart comments, the frustration with his attraction to Laurel, combined with the pain in his hip this morning were almost too much.

He'd awoken with the limb seizing, almost bringing him to his knees on the way to the bathroom this morning. One hot shower, two ibuprofens, and a heavy round of stretching behind locked doors had helped some. Now, it was just hiding some soreness from the other players, trying not to lose his temper at a child publicly and trying not to snatch his wife into his arms, kissing her senselessly.

His sister was not helping either. Madeline’s text messages the other day made him feel ten times worse – and confused.

I thought you liked Laurel?

Good morning to you, too – and I do – why? Did she say something?

You think I would rat out my best friend?

You’re obviously texting.

You’re obviously clueless.

Do tell…

You have no idea what your wife is like – do you?

We’re taking our time to become partners – and I do not owe you an explanation!

She writes romance!

Laurel literally pours her heart out on paper for anyone to read, and all that emotion comes from somewhere. Pick up a book, read it, learn something about your wife – MORON!

(and I said that with love)

Helloooo?

Want a suggestion? Read book one of her Sensuous Dragon Seduction Series.

Her whaaaat?

SSSSimply divine… sigh.

I’m gonna tell your husband.

He reads it with me. ??

This conversation is over! ??

Good – now be a good nerdy brother and go study how to woo your wife. ??

Laurel was yelling from the other room for Kendall to hurry up and get ready, causing him to look in her direction as he stood there with his phone in his hand, thinking.

He exited the text messages and opened up another screen, googling her pen name that he’d seen on the spine of the books in the library. Clicking on the first one, he paused… confused. This was one of her books but there was nothing telling about the cover. He scrolled down and clicked on the reviews – and froze.

She did it again! Oh my gosh, will someone please gimme a hot golden man with rippling scales, dark hair, and bright blue eyes?

Shocked, he kept scrolling.

YAAAAS! DRAGON DADDY! Rippling dragon scales, savage lovemaking, and those crystalline blue eyes. I’ll be your dragon kibble! Meeeow!

Review after review had all of these people talking about some hot encounter with a dragon-man fantasy creature that had dark hair and blue eyes, who protected the nest from outside invaders. And he hesitated as the next review landed like a sucker punch right between the eyes.

Broody, dark, temperamental? Hot, steamy, ground-shaking kisses, and those eyes— oh my gosh, the way the author describes his eyes right before the prince devours her body. Can someone hand me a fan? The Prince Drastin of the Yote Clan, heir to the kingdom and protector of the nest, was worth waiting for. And can we talk about those blue eyes again? Lawwwd sakes alive! I’m melting! I wish some blue-eyed, lust-filled prince would make his sole goal in life…

Drastin of the Yote … Dustin – of the Coyotes?

Whose goal was to protect the nest … net?

Her blue-eyed dragon princ … was him?

“ OMIGOSH !” he practically shrieked, his voice hoarse as he flinched, sinking slightly as his voice reverberated against the empty walls – that he quickly followed with a hissed curse word full of disbelief. “Laurel’s writing steamy romances… about me?”

“Dustin? Are you almost ready?” Laurel called out easily from the hallway. “We’re so excited about meeting everyone tonight and both wearing your jersey.”

“I’m never gonna make it,” he hissed at the empty air, his eyes wide in confusion about the thoughts ricocheting in his mind, heart, and soul. He was expected to act like nothing was going on, that nothing happened between any of them, when he knew she was writing smut-filled pages of imagining what intimacy would be like… with him.

“Gimme a minute!” he called out, begging for more time to calm himself – as he quickly ordered the book, determined to see what she was writing about him. What if others knew it? What if it got back to the team that she was writing filthy smut about him?

What if it was good?

“WHAT-AM-I-THINKING?!” he squawked, sounding like a parrot as he slapped himself across the face. “You cannot think about Laurel like that, ya’ filthy freak. She’s your sister’s best friend, and you’ve known her since she was a kid… A kid who writes about lust-filled dragons ! Thank heavens I didn’t get traded to the Dragons.”

And Dustin let out a nervous laugh before he whimpered audibly, his eyes pinched closed as he drew in several breaths through his nose to calm down.

“Okay… okay. Pull yourself together. It might be nothing, and you are blowing this way out of proportion without having all the facts. You can behave like a gentleman in public…” he whispered aloud, giving himself a pep talk as a little voice inside of his head piped up.

… And when you’re in private tonight – it’s game on ol’ Drastin of the Yote, slayer of virgins, protector of the nest, guardian of the family line.

And froze.

Family?

Kendall read those books. Why would Laurel ever allow… wait … Kendall was sneaking past Laurel, reading them. Did Kendall know she was writing about him? Did she picture him like that… as a passionate, blue-eyed dragon ravaging some unsuspecting female?

Little Boy Blue…

Ol’Blue Eyes…

Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh!

“ Cripes !” … And gagged painfully, his body writhing in desperation to throw up at the sheer thought of a teenage girl picturing any of the intimacy that went on behind closed doors. “Omigosh, I’m gonna be sick. That’s it! I’m gonna be sick – and then I’m gonna be arrested. Laurel should not be thinking of me like that – and Kendall is never getting married. I’m gonna put that girl in a nunnery as soon as I wash her eyes and mouth out with soap.”

“Dustin? Are you okay?”

Laurel!

“Yeah, be right there…”

“Do you need help?”

“Mental? Or physical?” he called out – and winced.

“Dustin, I’m coming in,” Laurel began again, sounding worried, and he heard the door open, freezing immediately.

Dustin stood there guiltily like there was a neon billboard behind him. The old-fashioned kind with the gas-filled tubes, where one picture would light up – and then flicker off as the other illuminated, creating a moving picture. Except his mental billboard had a dragon moving behind him, performing ‘the act’ – instead of an empty, plain wall.

He instantly broke out in a cold sweat as she looked at him and raised an eyebrow over the rim of her glasses.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep. Never better. Just, oh you know, stretching and talking to myself,” he smiled brightly while everything in him was cringing at the rush of lust that just raced up his spine from meeting Laurel’s hazel eyes.

“Well, when you are finished talking to yourself,” she chuckled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’re ready to go and just waiting on you.”

Then he noticed the jersey as Laurel turned and walked away. It said LAFRENIéRE on the back and had his number stamping his brand, his mark all over her. And in his brain, he heard the roar of a dragon as he stood frozen on the spot.

His whole world had changed knowing that Laurel looked at him like that – and while she was six years younger than him, she had grown up with his sister, and was familiar like a friend, a buddy… that person was also his wife .

His gorgeous wife.

A wife who was wearing his team jersey, who pictured him intimately and wrote about it for the whole world to read. If Madeline didn’t have a problem with him marrying her best friend to keep his job – why did he? And Kendall knew about the books.

… And he swallowed back bile once more.

“What if I’m making this out to be more than what it is?” he hesitated. “What if it would be okay to make a pass at my wife, to see how she reacts?”

He swallowed audibly before shoving his phone into his pocket, intent on reading a few passages when he could. If he had to sneak into the bathroom, hiding in a stall, he would do it. He was going to read his first romance book – written by his wife.

What could go wrong?

“I need to think… and I need more info, but first – it’s ‘Meet the Team’ night, and I need to keep my head on straight. There will be time to plan, freak out, or take action later.”

And he could have sworn he heard a dragon chuff softly in his head, almost like it was laughing, blowing steam down the back of his shirt as he already felt like it was a thousand degrees in here since the moment he’d made the connection with Laurel’s books to him.

Dustin tugged at his collar.

T wo hours later, things were not much better. Kendall had taken off to go play with some of the other kids, who were focused on playing games, playing with foam fingers, noisemakers, and other items and attacking the dessert portion of the massive buffet set out for everyone to partake in. The coach had decided to have the get-together here instead of at his house due to the headcount of the team and everyone involved.

Dustin was meeting people, shaking hands, smiling, and nodding like this all made sense, but in fact, he was lost among the crowds and only recognized the players he’d been practicing with for a week now. Thank goodness they seemed to click because their first game was in two weeks, and he was more than nervous on the inside. He wasn’t starting, but Larsson had never played a full game either – so he was going to be on the ice a little more than originally expected.

The air inside the convention hall buzzed with energy—children’s laughter echoed as they raced around the tables, their sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. The scent of grilled meats and sweet desserts lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hint of sweat and cologne from the gathered crowd. It was a lively, chaotic scene, the kind of place where friendships were cemented, and rivalries were put on hold for the sake of good food and team spirit.

And he saw Laurel standing nearby.

This innocent, sweet looking woman did not seem the type to write things like what the reviews had suggested were there in her books – and he had yet to disappear into the bathroom to read a chapter or two.

I need to fix that, he thought immediately and was about to walk off when Coeur appeared in front of him – his expression desperate.

“Dude, you gotta have my back in something,” Coeur said in a rush.

“What do you need, brother?”

“Can you watch my son, Stephen?”

“Already calling him your son, huh?” Dustin smirked and nodded for a moment, glancing at Laurel. “That’s actually pretty sweet of you, Coeur. Is everything all right?”

“Heck no…”

“Wait,” Dustin paused, his smile fading. “What’s wrong? I can only sign ‘hello’ to your kid, and I cannot ‘hello’ him to death if he needs something. What is wrong? Why are you fidgeting?”

“Dude—I need a solid hour alone.”

Dustin frowned, barely looking up from the cup he’d been sipping on for the last hour. His soda was flat and watered down now and tasteless. It was time for a new one, and avoiding whatever Coeur was about to ask him might be just the excuse he could use to get out of it.

“Why?”

Coeur cleared his throat pointedly, shooting a wary glance at Laurel before shifting closer, lowering his voice as if he were about to share classified information. “Ahem. My wife… uh, well, your wife is listening .” Coeur paused, grimacing before cupping a hand around his mouth. “Privacy, bro? In hockey terms, I’ve got a chance to make the shot – and I’m gonna take it. I need an assist… you got me? It’s my puck, dude – my puck .”

Dustin barely had time to process the sheer audacity of that statement before Laurel, standing at his side, gasped. Her mouth dropped open in pure, stunned disbelief.

“Seriously, Coeur? Are you kidding me right now?” Dustin asked, utterly floored by his wild teammate and trying to keep from laughing.

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate…”

“Oh my gosh…”

“Dude, have you got my back? Please? Pretty please ? I’m gonna owe you big time for this…” Coeur’s expression was pleading, practically vibrating with urgency.

Dustin ran a hand down his face. This was not how he’d planned to spend his night. He had been looking forward to sneaking in a few stolen moments to read Laurel’s book, letting himself get lost in her words, in her world. But no, instead, he was about to be roped into babysitting duty while his teammate disappeared to live out the kind of fantasies Dustin hadn’t been able to shake from his own mind when it came to the woman standing beside him.

“Just go,” Dustin muttered, throwing up his hands in defeat.

He barely caught Coeur’s triumphant grin before the man turned on his heel, already making his escape.

“I’m no good with kids—twenty!” Dustin hollered after him, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Twenty-five!” Coeur shot back, not even looking over his shoulder.

“Ten!”

Dustin’s retort fell flat as he watched Irene—Coeur’s redheaded wife—blush furiously about twenty feet away while being practically dragged from the room. Her husband had clamped onto her hand like a man on a mission, weaving through the crowd with singular determination.

Dustin turned back to Laurel, ready to apologize for the blatant lack of tact, when he caught sight of something unexpected—a wicked grin playing on her lips, her eyes alight with amusement.

“Was that… what I think that was?” she asked, arching a brow.

He groaned.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Coeur has no shame. You should hear some of the things he’s said to my friends back home on the ice. He called poor Thierry ‘Fat Clairol’ for ages…”

And Laurel just hesitated before chuckling and shaking her head.

“Oh, don’t apologize,” she murmured, her tone thoughtful. “I’m stealing that and putting it in a book. That’s exactly what women want.”

He blinked and turned to stare at her. “What?!”

Laurel faltered for half a second before lifting her chin defiantly. “Shouldn’t you be babysitting?” she teased, an edge of laughter in her voice.

Dustin exhaled sharply. “Uh, you better explain that comment first.”

Laurel’s expression softened, her voice turning wistful. “Women want a man to show they care. To want them. To overpower them—not in a bad way—but to make it clear they’re desired. It’s the same all over the world, in all the books. Women want to be cherished, cared for, and loved.”

His gaze sharpened, drawn to the slight hesitation in her voice. “And you want that?”

She stilled. “I didn’t say me - I said women,” she deflected, but there was a crack in her confidence.

Dustin stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’re very much a woman,” he pointed out, the words slow, deliberate. “Do you want something like that? For some man to take you by the wrist and whisk you away someplace to do all sorts of wicked things to you?”

He hadn’t meant to sound quite so raw, so darn eager, but he couldn’t pull the words back now.

Laurel sucked in a breath, her pupils dilating, her lips parting as if she had suddenly forgotten how to speak. He saw it—the way the air between them shifted, thickened. The way her resolve crumbled under the weight of the truth that neither of them had dared voice aloud.

“Not just some man…” she whispered.

Dustin’s heart slammed against his ribs.

“Oh,” he managed, the single syllable barely a breath.

They stood there, staring at each other, neither one daring to move, as if a single step might shatter the moment.

He swallowed hard. “I should go check on the kid.”

“I should check on Kendall,” she murmured.

They nodded at the same time, but neither of them moved, still locked in place, caught in the gravity of whatever was happening between them. It was as if a veil had been lifted, an unspoken truth finally laid bare.

He was interested.

And so was she.

Their marriage had started as a convenient arrangement—a promise made out of necessity rather than love. But this? This was something else. Something dangerous. Something real.

Laurel cleared her throat, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you wanna talk tonight… when we’re alone?”

Dustin exhaled slowly, his pulse still thundering in his ears. “I think I’d like that.”

Her lips curved into the smallest, most tentative smile. “Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretched between them, charged and electric.

“I should…” he started, but the words failed him.

“Me too…” she whispered, a soft pink flush creeping up her cheeks as she motioned toward her sister in the distance.

And just like that, the moment ended, the noise of the convention filtering back in. But Dustin knew—nothing between them would ever be the same again, and his window of research had just shrunk perceptibly. He was going to check on Stephen, and then nothing was going to stop him from hitting the bathrooms to read on his phone.