Chapter 48 #2
There’s laughter in her voice and her eyes sparkle with amusement as I’m sure she’s picturing how I dragged her upstairs to have my way with her the minute she got home, only for us to miss the brownie timer going off downstairs, completely burning the first batch.
Luckily, I had enough ingredients that we worked together to make another batch, but we barely had time to bake them before we had to head to dinner with AJ and McCabe.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker,” AJ says, and as much as I’m trying to relax around her, the fact that she’s my boss still makes that difficult.
At least the stress of the contract negotiation phase is over, and I know I’ll be staying in Boston for the next few years, at which point I’ll probably retire.
The stress of maintaining both a personal and professional relationship with my boss, like I have since Morgan and I became “official,” makes me wonder how McCabe was secretly dating AJ in the midst of a tense contract negotiation between her and his agent.
“I have many talents,” I say.
“Most impressively,” McCabe says with a smirk, “the ability to hide this relationship from everyone for months.”
AJ turns toward him, tilting her head and giving him a small smile. “I feel like the pot shouldn’t call the kettle black here?”
“Touché,” he says. “But our reasons for hiding our relationship were obvious. Why would you two need to hide it?”
Morgan glances at me, the question obvious? Do we tell them how we originally met? I think AJ is the only friend of Morgan’s who might not already know. I give her the slightest nod.
“So . . .” she starts. “We actually met in Bermuda over Labor Day weekend, not really knowing who the other was. And then . . . there was this uncomfortable situation where we hooked up, and found out the next day that our parents were getting married.”
McCabe’s bark of laughter is so loud it scares Abby, who is almost asleep cuddled up on AJ. Abby starts crying, and AJ hugs her closer, kissing her and murmuring, “It’s okay, Daddy just thought something was funny.”
She’s rubbing small circles on Abby’s back as I glance over at McCabe, lifting an eyebrow as I silently mouth, “Daddy, huh?”
“Dick,” he mouths back. AJ’s focused on Abby, but Morgan’s silent chuckle lets me know she didn’t miss the interaction.
“Then what happened?” AJ asks, head still bent toward Abby.
Morgan explains about Max’s nickname for me and having no idea I was a hockey player. “Then we came back to Boston and realized we work together, and my dad is his agent.”
“Oh, I’m sure you backed off then,” McCabe says sarcastically, glancing at me. He damn well knows I didn’t.
“Obviously I did, but she just couldn’t stay away. Kept coming after me, over and over.”
She smacks my arm, hard, and with a laugh says, “Yeah, that’s definitely what happened.”
“The rest of the story doesn’t matter,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her into my side so I can press my lips to the top of her head. “We ended up together, and our parents are already in the process of divorcing.”
AJ chuckles and says, “Only you, Morgan.”
“Funny,” she says, “that’s the reaction everyone has regarding my love life.”
“And to think you stormed into my office before that trip saying that you had a special ability to attract assholes.” She lifts an eyebrow as her gaze travels to me.
“Luckily her abilities worked just fine on that trip, and she snagged me,” I say.
“I hate to break it to you, dude,” McCabe says. “But I don’t think you were ever actually an asshole.”
“Oh yeah?” I say.
“Yeah.” His eyes travel to Abby with her head on AJ’s chest and eyes closed. “Okay, I think we need to get Abby to bed now.”
I hold in my laugh because with the way he’s looking at AJ holding his little girl, I think what he means is that he wants to get her to bed now.
We say our goodbyes and when the elevator doors close, I pull Morgan close. “I know Christmas is over, but I got you one more present.”
She tilts her head back to look at me. “You did?”
“Yeah. I bought you my jersey. I’ve only ever seen you with McCabe’s name and number on your back, and I’d kind of like to see mine there.”
She smirks. “You really do have a fetish for me in your clothing, don’t you?” I just nod, and she says, “Luckily, four is my lucky number.”
“Perfect, because I’m going to fuck you with that jersey on tonight, and then watch you wear it tomorrow night at the game. And every time I put my own jersey on, I’ll think about you in it.”
“Sounds like a good way to be distracted,” she says, lifting up on her toes to press a quick kiss to my lips. “And I’m pretty sure you promised your coach, your GM, and your agent that you’d have no distractions this season.”
I can’t help the way my smile spreads and laughter tumbles out. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m more focused on my future than ever before.”
With a new contract, a likely run for the Stanley Cup, and the possibility of forever with her, my future has never felt brighter.
It feels like we’ve just fallen asleep after staying up way too late exploring all the things I wanted to do to her in my jersey, when Morgan’s phone rings.
I groan and nudge her, but she’s not waking up easily.
So I reach over her and grab her phone off her nightstand, only to see Preston Hartmann flashing on her screen.
What the fuck? I can’t think of a single reason that our CEO’s billionaire older brother would be calling her. I can’t even think of a reason she’d know him.
I press the screen to answer the call. “Hello?”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Who’s this?” Preston asks.
“Aidan Renaud.”
“Oh, good. Renaud, I need to talk to Morgan. Can you put her on the phone?”
I’m not surprised he knows who I am—his family owns the Rebels. I am, however, astonished that he doesn’t seem the least bit curious that I’m answering her phone at four in the morning.
“Yeah, hold on,” I say and press mute. Then I give her another shake, saying, “Morgan, you need to wake up.”
She groans but doesn’t open her eyes. “Why?”
“Preston Hartmann is on the phone for you.”
“What?” She shoots up to sitting, eyes wide, and glances down at her phone in my hand. “Oh no . . .”
I hand her the phone, unmuting it as I do, and she presses it to her ear.
The look on her face is borderline panic.
“What happened?” she asks. “No, he didn’t!
” There’s a pause, and she sighs, folding her legs beneath her so she’s sitting cross-legged.
“I told Tucker to stay off social media,” she says, as I reach toward the blanket at the end of the bed and wrap it around her bare shoulders.
“Okay . . . yep . . . all right, I’ll meet you there in an hour. ”
She disconnects the call, tilts her head back while letting out a huge sigh, and then sinks back into bed with the blanket still wrapped around her. “Fuuuuck.”
“Uh . . . what just happened?” I ask.
She sighs again. “We were trying to keep this quiet, but Tucker’s gone and blown it all up, so I might as well tell you because it’s out there now.
This morning while I was getting ready to go into the office, I came across a video from Tucker’s ex-fiancée, Violet Sinclaire.
She was talking shit about him and their breakup last year,” she says, and I realize that’s probably why she gasped while getting ready this morning, not because she’d almost dropped her phone like she told me.
“I sent it to the Hartmann family’s PR team, and when I was meeting with Tucker this morning, Preston sent him the video.
Tucker and I talked about it, I told him his family’s PR team would handle it and asked him to stay off social media.
I thought it was all set. But at some point overnight, he posted a video he took before they broke up. And it’s not good.”
“Not good, how?”
“I haven’t seen it yet, obviously, but Preston said it’s a video of him flying to Miami to surprise her, and then walking into her hotel room only to find her cheating on him.”
“Why would he want the world to see that?”
It all happened while I was on IR, and I don’t know much about the breakup, except that it was splashed all over the news for a day or two as a “mutual parting of ways.” The next thing I heard, Tucker left Hartmann Enterprises and became the new CEO of the Boston Rebels.
He seems good at his job, but I don’t get the sense that he has the kind of passion for the sport or the organization that most people who work for the Rebels do.
“The video his ex-fiancée posted basically claimed that the breakup was his fault, and he not only left her heartbroken, but also left her family with a hundred-thousand-dollar bill for the wedding.”
“And she was the one cheating on him?” I clarify.
“Looks like it, but I don’t know for sure. I need to go get ready. I have to be at Hartmann Enterprises in an hour. You should go back to sleep,” she says, leaning over and giving me a kiss. “You have a big game tonight.”
“Aren’t you on vacation right now?”
“Yeah. But when Preston Hartmann tells you to meet him at the Hartmann headquarters, you show up.”
“You don’t work for him,” I remind her, still wondering why she needs to be involved in this at all.
Then again, I’m pretty sure if Preston Hartmann told me to jump, I’d ask how high.
He’s got that kind of air about him, like cross me and I’ll bury you.
Which doesn’t make me particularly comfortable that Morgan’s headed to his office.
“Right, but I was the one who found Violet’s video in the first place and sent it on to the firm that handles their family’s PR.
I was the one who was with Tucker when Preston sent him the video.
And it’s going to be my job to keep this from making the Rebels look bad, since apparently I’m their go-to for crisis situations.
Sadly, it looks like I have some work to do this weekend. ”
“Please tell me this isn’t going to affect our New Year’s Eve plans tomorrow.
” I have a game on New Year’s Day, so we’re not going out tomorrow night.
But I’ve planned dinner with all our friends followed by a romantic night in for the two of us, and I’ve been looking forward to several surprises I have in store for her.
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen. But I can promise you this: I will be at your game tonight, in your jersey, cheering for you.
And I’ll make sure I’m home tomorrow night for New Year’s Eve.
” She leans into me, wrapping an arm around my back with a quick hug.
I’m proud of her for the way she’s setting boundaries these days, even if they’re still not quite as tight as I’d like them to be. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry—you didn’t do this. But don’t be surprised if I punch Tucker in the fucking face next time I see him.”
“I’m going to have to recommend against that,” she says with a chuckle. “Please don’t make even more work for me, trying to bury that story too.”
“Because I love you, I’ll refrain.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss on her forehead.
“All right, go deal with the stupid shit. I’ll see you at my game tonight, if not before.”
“Love you too,” she says, giving me a quick kiss before she hops out of bed.
Once she’s in the shower, I get up and make her coffee, like I do every morning I’m home.
While it brews, I grab a protein bar because she’ll probably be hungry, and a bag of Nerds Gummy Clusters from the secret stash I keep for her stressful times, and drop them both into her work bag.
Once I hear the water go off in the shower, I add milk and sugar to her coffee and bring it into the bathroom for her.
She smells like coconut and shea butter, and the scent makes me think of the day we spent together in Bermuda before that storm rolled in.
“You know what I was thinking?” I ask her, pressing a kiss to her wet hair.
“Hmmm?” she says as she takes a sip of the creamy coffee I’ve handed her.
“I think that once the season’s over, we should head back to Bermuda.”
Her chest shakes with a quick laugh. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I feel like there must be other beach caves we haven’t explored together.”
She shakes her head at me, but her smile is huge and her laughter is light. “We do like exploring.”
“Maybe I’ll look into it today when you’re at work.”
“I think you should do that,” she says, pressing up on her toes so she can give me a quick kiss. “Maybe pick out a new bikini for me while you’re at it.”
“No way,” I say with a laugh. “I want you in that yellow one.”
“I’ll wear whatever you want,” she says with a chuckle. “Including your jersey at tonight’s game. But I’ve got to get ready to go now or I’m really going to be late.”
I give her another quick kiss, then head out of the bathroom.
With the door shut behind me, I move into the closet and quietly search through her drawers until I find that yellow bikini.
Then I tuck it under my pillow. After she leaves, I’ll search for the brand and size online and buy her three more for when this one wears out.
Because if there’s one thing I love as much as her in my jersey or my clothes, it’s this yellow bikini and the way it reminds me of our first weekend together.
Even though I knew back then that there was something special about us together, I never could have imagined we’d end up here. I’ll always be grateful that the disaster that was our parents’ marriage to each other led us to our own forever.