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“What?” She gave the dog a commiserating look. “Shame on Alek. Who couldn’t love that adorable face?” She made some kissing noises.

Hattie’s tongue lolled.

“I still say you’re missing a golden opportunity to pad Finn’s college fund,” Sloane continued. “But to each his own. I came over to make sure you’re ready for the party tonight. And it’s a good thing I did because this dog has given me the most awesome idea for your Halloween costume,”

Excuse me?

“Um, I have my costume,” Sheridan improvised. She hadn’t planned on dressing up. “I’m going to wear some scrubs and carry a stethoscope.”

Sloane sighed. “That’s original. I bet you wear that every year.”

She did. But the other woman didn’t have to know that.

“I have a better idea.” She had that determined glint her eye that Sheridan had come to know and loathe. “And I can’t believe I have everything you’ll need. Thank goodness for all those times my dad dragged me to German Fest.”

This was ridiculous. She wasn’t letting Valentine’s girlfriend browbeat her into wearing a costume.

“Please don’t go to any trouble on my behalf,” Sheridan insisted. “No one is going to see my costume.”

“Of course, they are. I’m livestreaming it. And as one of the WAGs, you need to up your game. We have a reputation to uphold among the other teams in this town. I am not letting the Growler girls show us up again this year.”

Sheridan had to work hard to keep her patience in check. “You seem to keep forgetting. I’m not Alek’s girlfriend. Therefore, I’m not a WAG.”

“I haven’t forgotten. But there are only twenty guys on this team. The Growlers have nearly fifty, which gives them twice as many of them as there are of us. If we want to outshine them on social media, we need all the bodies in costumes that we can get.”

“Is ‘outshining’ the other wives and girlfriends that important?”

Sloane rocked back on her heels as if Sheridan had pushed her.

“I’m an influencer. Getting eyes on my posts is how I make my living.

I want to outshine everyone.” She blinked rapidly a few times.

“I want people to know Timothée and his teammates as human beings, too. That sort of content keeps fans in the seats. Even when things aren’t going their way. You should want that also.”

Crap.

She hadn’t figured Sloane for being such a guilt machine. But the other woman was spot-on. Sheridan owed it to Alek to play along.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Yay-ee!” Sloane’s face lit up. “Meet me at Claire’s at five. I’ll bring everything you’ll need.” She pointed at Hattie as she hurried back into her car. “And don’t forget this beauty. She’s part of your costume.” She blew a kiss to the dog as she started up the car. “Bye-ee!”

And that was how Sheridan found herself wandering the streets of Claire’s neighborhood later that evening wearing a vintage beer girl costume with thigh-high white stockings and a revealing lace-up bodice.

“I cannot believe I agreed to this.” She pulled her coat more tightly around her as she and Freya escorted several of the Mayhem’s kids trick-or-treating.

Hattie was in her glory with people stopping them on the sidewalk to snap pictures of the dog adorned in her little feathered hat and a wooden cask around her neck.

Finn and Gunner were dressed head to toe in Mayhem gear, both boys carrying hockey sticks.

Their pillowcases were growing heavy with candy.

“You agreed because you are young and haven’t had three babies,” Freya told her. “I’d kill to still be able to pull off such an outfit.” She made a noise deep in her throat. “Henrik would be chasing me around the house.”

Dear Lord.

“TMI.”

Freya laughed before yelling at the boys to wait before crossing the street.

“Are you aware that goalies have the most stamina of anyone on the team?” She bumped Sheridan’s shoulder at the mention of stamina.

“They are the only player out on the ice for the entire game. Everyone thinks they are just standing around when really they are laser focused on the puck at all times. They maintain their crouch for nearly sixty minutes. You wouldn’t believe what that kind of discipline does to their thighs. Mmm.”

Damn the woman. Now she was picturing Alek’s thighs.

“Hadn’t ever thought about it,” she lied.

Freya tsked before muttering something in Swedish. She followed it up with, “The man has no sense.”

Sheridan didn’t have time to decipher the other woman’s comments because Hattie was suddenly straining at the leash. The dog let out a low growl as voices rose ahead of them. One of them belonged to Finn.

“Whatever you do, don’t let go of her,” Sheridan commanded as she handed the leash to Freya and rushed ahead.

“You take that back,” Finn shouted as he shoved a boy twice his size.

The bigger boy laughed. The group of tween trick-or-treaters had Gunner and Finn surrounded.

“Bergeron sucks as a goalie.” The older boy got right in Finn’s face. “He couldn’t keep a bus out of the net if he tried. The team wasted their money on him.”

Finn dropped his bag of candy to the ground, its contents scattering around his feet as he gripped the hockey stick with both hands.

“Hey!” she shouted. She reached for the hockey stick before Finn could do something foolish. “What’s going on here?” Although it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. Finn’s aggressiveness, though, was going to take some deep thought later.

The older boy sneered. “Oh, look who needs his mommy to rescue him.”

“She’s not my mom!” Finn shouted.

Sheridan flinched at the ugly defiance in his voice.

“She’s Bergeron’s girlfriend,” one of the other boys interjected. “I saw her in his jersey on opening day.”

She groaned as the group of boys chorused their surprise.

“Finn, you and Gunner go with Freya,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gunner murmured while Finn gave her a contemptuous look.

“Now,” she mouthed at him.

His shoulders slumped as he trailed his friend.

The older boys snickered. Finn spun around and slashed his hockey stick through the air.

Fortunately, Freya had the reflexes of a goalie.

She was able to deflect the stick so that it smashed into a pumpkin lining the walkway instead of one of the boy’s heads.

The boys charged at Finn. Hattie’s growl stopped them in their tracks.

“Whoa! That dog is gonna bite me!” one of the boys cried as the entire group took a giant step back.

Sheridan stepped between the dog and the group of hoodlums. “Hattie, sit,” she commanded. Unlike Finn, she complied immediately. “The dog is very protective, but she won’t bite unless you give her a reason to. Let’s not. Why don’t you guys move along and finish your trick-or-treating?”

The boys held their ground. Sheridan sighed as she crouched down and picked up Finn’s pillowcase.

She was scooping up the strewn candy when a pair of large tennis shoes appeared on the sidewalk next to her.

Craning her neck, she looked up to see a man holding a beer, leering at her around the cigar in his mouth.

Too late, she realized her coat was gapping open, and the man had an unobstructed view right down the meager blouse of her costume.

She shot to her feet. Finn would have to sacrifice some of his candy for the cause.

A crowd had gathered around them, most of them with cell phones pointed in her direction.

All of them getting an eyeful of her ridiculous costume.

It was no use buttoning up her coat now.

“Is there a problem here, Brett?” He directed the question at the pack of tweens while his eyes never left Sheridan’s cleavage.

“Only that the kid is wearing a Bergeron jersey,” Finn’s main tormentor replied. “The guy sucks.”

Feet shuffled behind her, presumably Finn. She prayed Freya had a firm hold on him.

“I agree,” the dad said. “But he’s a baby. He doesn’t know any better.”

“Like father, like son,” Sheridan mumbled as she turned away.

“Hold on there, beautiful,” the guy said. “While I don’t mind pretty young women living in our neighborhood, I need to know that Cujo here isn’t going to run amok and start attacking people.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Who are you staying with?” the creep asked.

“We wouldn’t live here if you paid us,” Finn yelled. “We live with Alek Bergeron.”

Oh, Finn.