Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Ky
“How ya doing, kid?” Damon asks, slinging his arm around my shoulder and giving me a noogie.
“Ugh.” I bat him away. “Stop!”
“Make me,” he says, hooking that arm around my neck and mussing up my hair again.
“Colt!”
My man’s head jerks up.
“Rescue me!”
His mouth quirks as he makes his way over to us. “I’m not sure I should interfere.” His smile grows. “Big brother privileges and all.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
Damon grins. “I didn’t like this at first.”
“Didn’t like what?” I ask, still struggling.
“You dating.”
“Dating Colt or dating in general?”
“Either.”
I jab him under the ribs and he grunts, finally releasing me.
“Both.”
Colt pulls me into his side and I share my glare with him. The stink is totally unaffected, and just bends and brushes his lips over mine.
“You’re off my Christmas cookie list,” I tell him and when Damon chuckles, I scowl at him. “And you are too.”
“No, I’m not. You love me.” A lazy shrug. “Plus, I didn’t trade your boyfriend.”
The chest behind me rumbles softly with laughter.
“Somehow, I didn’t expect this,” Lake says as he and Nova move to the door, their adorable little daughter completely sacked out in her car seat.
“Didn’t expect what?” Knox asks.
“Didn’t expect Damon to be so chill about his little sister dating one of the guys on the team.”
“Why shouldn’t she?” Nova asks, looping her arm around Lake’s middle and gently smoothing her hand over her daughter’s soft brown hair. “Hockey players are great.”
“Damn right they are,” Knox says.
“As much as it pains me to agree with my brother,” Ella says, her eyes dancing as she laces her fingers through Riggs’s, “in this case, I have to.”
Riggs, man of few words that he is, just kisses her.
“When I grow up, should I marry a hockey player?” Evie asks as she skips toward us.
“No!”
It’s a chorus from the men all around us.
Evie freezes, but only for a moment.
Then she shrugs and skips her way out the door. “Boys are gross anyway.”
I snort.
Nova giggles.
Ella is smiling wide.
Ivy laughs and shakes her head as she follows her daughter out the door. “From the mouths of babes.”
“That’s rude,” Knox says grumpily as he follows his girls.
“But true,” I tease, earning a scowl from my brother and a murmured, “You didn’t think I was gross last night,” from the man who holds my heart.
My cheeks go pink.
“What do you think he just told her?” Ella stage whispers to Nova.
“I would pay a lot of money to find out,” she stage whispers back to her best friend.
“I wouldn’t,” Lake says dryly, jerking his chin up in thanks to my brother and Joey for tonight’s hosting. “Let’s go, butterfly.”
Nova winks at me as Ella pulls me into a hug then they’re both heading out to their cars.
“Be good, kid,” Damon says, embracing me (this time without the side of noogie).
“You too.”
“Am I really off your Christmas cookie list?” he asks.
“Yup.”
Joey’s mouth twitches as she loops her arm through mine. “My mom is coming to town next week.”
“I know,” I tell her. “Beth and I already scheduled our mani-pedis.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She comes in for a hug as Damon and Colt step outside, her voice dropping until it’s almost a whisper. “Just so you know, we postponed Colt’s celebration until next month.”
“Celebration?”
“He hasn’t told you?”
“No.” I frown. “Is it for his charity?”
Joey’s gaze flicks to the duo as they walk down the driveway. “It’s for his five hundredth game, Ky.”
I suck in a breath.
Because that’s a big deal.
A big deal.
“You didn’t know?”
“No,” I mutter. “What do you need?”
“The front office hasn’t been able to get a hold of his family.”
Why is that not a surprise?
Rage begins to boil up in my belly but I’m calm when I say, “Have them give me the details and I’ll take care of it.”
Her face softens.
“What?”
“I’m glad he has you, and”—she cups my jaw—“I’m so damned glad that you finally put him out of his misery.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“They were all taking bets on when he’d finally make his move, sis.” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “The only reason Damon’s not actively talking about murder is that he’s had nearly two seasons to get used to it.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugs. “The guys talk.”
I lift my brows accusingly. “You talk.”
“Well, that too.”
I swat at her chest. “I’m going to sic Beth on you.”
“I gave her a wedding during the off-season; Beth loves me right now.”
Damn.
She’s not wrong.
Still, I don’t let my little sister energy wane as we follow the guys outside. “I know she can’t wait for grandbabies,” I drawl. “Maybe I’ll mention how you didn’t drink any wine tonight…”
Joey misses the last step off the porch and I have to wrap my arm around her middle to catch her.
Whoops.
That was bad timing for teasing her about babies—though her pink cheeks are interesting.
“I have an early meeting tomorrow,” she hedges.
“I’m sure you do.” I shrug. “The only question is if Beth will believe that.”
She shoves me. “You’re evil.”
“Damn right, I am.”
“Damon!” she calls. “Get your sister out of here before I push her into a snowbank!”
He just smirks as he strolls back over to her. “Want help?”
“Rude!” I say, lifting my chin and marching to Colt’s car—he was only cleared to drive today and is taking full advantage.
“Want me to push them into a snowbank?” he murmurs, catching me around the middle, his tongue flicking out to caress my earlobe.
“I heard that!” Joey calls. “Remember who makes the drills!”
“I thought Coach Kaitlyn was in charge of the offense,” he calls back.
“Your ice time then!” she shouts.
“I’m on the IR!”
“Damon,” she says, winding her arm through my brother’s, “I think it’s time to get on the horn, don’t you think?”
He tosses a grin over his shoulder as they head into the house. “I think there’s a minor league team in Antarctica we can trade him to.”
“You’ve bought it now,” I say lightly as Colt opens the passenger door and I drop into the seat.
A wink. “Worth it.”
“You sure?”
He tugs down the seatbelt, buckles me in, my heart squeezing at the small sign of care—a hundred, a thousand of which he gives me per day. “Yup.”
Before I can reply—or tell him how much I like those little acts of caring—he closes the door and rounds the hood, settling into the driver’s seat. Then he’s backing out and turning onto the street, weaving his way through the winding roads.
I’m so content—full of wine and food (and care)—that I miss it at first.
The fact that we’re not heading to his house or my apartment.
I choke as he pulls into a parking lot. “H-hot dogs?”
He grins at me then shrugs. “You said you wanted to try them.”
“We just ate our body weight in cheese,” I protest. “How can you possibly be hungry?”
He shrugs. “You know what they say about wein—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth. “Don’t.”
A wink, his lips pressing to my palm before he peels it free.
“We’re not having hot dogs, starfire.”
“Then what?” I ask as he shifts the transmission into park and turns my way.
“Aren’t you curious to find out?”