40. Blake
We’re barely in Baton Rouge a full day when the first article comes out.
On Puck Bunny Promotions of all places.
Fuck, I really hate that blog.
At least I can be grateful they didn’t refer to me as a puck bunny. I’ll take the hockey phenomenon title with a smile.
And if I’m honest, the post isn’t that bad. I can do without the reference to Bran’s first marriage but it’s not like I can wipe it from existence even if that’s what we’d both prefer.
“Hey.”
Glancing up from my computer I find my husband—I love thinking of Bran as that—leaning on the doorframe. “Hey. Heading down to the ice?”
“Yes. Walker is going to do some work with me but I wondered if you had time to join us.”
“I will in about twenty minutes.”
“Meeting?”
“Video call with the man I’m hoping will captain the Rogues, and his agent.”
“Oh?” Bran pushes off the doorway and comes toward me. “Anyone I know?”
“Probably.”
“Care to share?”
He’s grinning at me. We’ve been doing this dance for the last week. I’ve shared some names but not others. This one I’m okay with telling him.
“Beckett Higgison.”
“Beck?” Bran tips his head toward the ceiling, a thoughtful look on his face. He’s talking again before returning his gaze to mine. “He’s a solid guy. Been around more than a few years, played only on Canadian teams but he’s American, probably close to retirement so I’m not sure if he’s a long-term strategy prospect. Keeps to himself off the ice, almost recluse-like. Might not fit in with the family atmosphere you want to build here.”
I love how deeply Bran thinks about the players I tell him about. And his insights are always spot on. Smiling, I say, “You nailed what I know about it. And I think he will fit here. We need some solid, experienced players to round out all the young guys we’re looking at bringing on. But I’m not the only one with a say and I have to feel out him and his agent, gauge their interest, before I can make an offer anyway.”
“All right. I’ll leave you to it.” Planting his hands on my desk, he leans over and drops a kiss on my forehead. “See you on the ice.”
“See you—Oh! Wait! I need to show you this.” Clicking on the browser tab where the blog post about us is still up, I turn my monitor so Bran can read it. “Puck Bunny Promotions has us in today’s post.”
“Yeah, Nat messaged me about it a few minutes ago. Nothing bad though, right?”
“You didn’t read it yet?”
“No. I figured Nat was on top of it and if not her, you would be.” He shrugs. “I told you, I’m here to be your husband and play hockey. But if the latter messes with the former, I’m breaking contract.”
“It won’t, but I’m grateful for your dedication to us over your career. Even if I think it’s misplaced.”
“It’s not. I did it for too long already and look what happened. I’m not taking any chances with us, Blake. Not ever again.” He waves a hand at the screen. “And if this isn’t a problem for you, it isn’t for me.”
“I won’t let you toss your career away.”
“I don’t intend to, but I will not let it interfere with us. Ever.”
“Have I told you I love you today?”
“Yes. But not in the last few minutes so go ahead,” he prompts with a grin and wave of his hand.
“I love you.” Rising, I lean in for a kiss then press a hand to his chest and shove. “Now go. Get out on the ice and don’t let Walker run you into the ground.”
“I think he’s looking forward to being out there. Especially now I know about his vision impairment. Being aware means I can give him a good one-on-one game.”
“Don’t go soft on him. He’ll hate that.”
“I won’t. But I also won’t take advantage of what is a disadvantage for him.”
My alarm goes off, the two-minute warning I set myself for the call with Beckett Higgison and his agent, Mal Gordon, Bran’s old agent. “Get. I need to get settled before this call.”
“Love you,” Bran says with a final kiss.
Sitting back in my chair, I watch his fine ass walk across my office. Smiling when he turns and winks at me before shutting the door.
Two weeks ago I sat in this chair waiting for another video call about a hot shot. And I had no idea I’d be a married woman the next time I stepped inside this room.
Or that I would have secured that hot shot not only for the Rogues but for me.