Chapter 2
two
Benton
“Are you two seeing what I’m seeing, or have I been driving too long?” I blink at the sight of a beautiful woman in a wedding dress walking down the side of the highway, going the opposite direction from us. Glancing farther down the road, I see a car sideways in the ditch.
“Damn, she’s gorgeous.” My brother Jefferson whistles from the passenger side of my car. “Stop and pick her up—she looks like she needs a ride.”
It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex, because all I can think about is that little beauty riding me.
My protective instinct is already kicking in as I turn the car around and pull up alongside who I hope is a runaway bride, not an actual bride who’s late to her wedding.
“Want a ride?” My other brother, Mitchell, calls from the backseat, his head and shoulders barely fitting through the childproof windows.
I love my brothers, I really do, but as the oldest at forty-three, sometimes I feel more like their babysitter than their brother.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be where I am today without them. I was drafted to a pro hockey team right out of high school. It was the first time I was out on my own. I went a little crazy with the puck bunnies.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized that one of those encounters with a puck bunny resulted in a child, even with wearing a condom each time.
Mona, the child’s mother, decided after ten years of raising him that she was done and left him at my door with a note.
She didn’t even bother to tell me in person.
My brothers insisted I get a paternity test, but one look into his sad, stubborn eyes, and I knew he was mine. Jefferson and Mitchell were both sports agents, still are, so their lives were a little more flexible than mine.
With their help, we raised my son to be a happy, loving child who followed in my footsteps and was recently called to play professionally. That’s why Jefferson, Mitchell, and I are here in Iowa to make sure his contract is in order.
It might seem odd that we still live together even after my son moved out, but it feels right to us. Besides, we're set in our ways and have chosen not to get married or have families.
But this fiery woman stomping down the road in a wedding gown has got me thinking about marriage, or at least the wedding night.
The feisty little minx doesn’t stop walking but shifts her head to glare at Mitchell. If looks could kill, we would all be dead, but that doesn’t stop me from pulling over and getting out of the car, Mitchell and Jefferson following behind me.
“Look, we won’t hurt you.” When she still doesn’t stop walking, I try again. “At least let us call someone for you--maybe the groom? Unless you’ve already done so.”
She stops moving and spins around to glare at the three of us trailing after her like a bunch of love-sick puppies. “The groom is the last person I want you to call. And I don’t have a phone at the moment.”
I don’t question why she doesn’t have a phone, because if she were mine, I’d make sure she had anything she wanted. But it’s her story to tell when she’s ready.
Her eyes flick between the three of us, noticing our similar builds, hair, and eye color, and they widen as if she's interested in what she sees. Which is silly, because now that we’re this close, I can tell she’s way too young for us.
Even if we take care of ourselves and work out daily, she’d probably be more interested in someone closer to her age like my son.
“So not the groom. How about your parents?” She rolls her eyes at Jefferson.
“Try again.” She crosses her arms over her chest, giving us a bratty stare, and fuck me if I don’t want to take her over my knee and spank the sass right out of her. By the look in my brothers’ eyes, I think they are thinking the same thing.
“Okay, so no groom and no parents. How about a sister or a brother?” He tries again, only this time, instead of an eye roll, she bites her lip as if trying to decide whether to trust us or not.
Her slender shoulders fall in defeat. “How about a ride to the Iowa Poseidon hockey arena?”
None of us mentions the coincidence that we happen to be going there too. “Sure. Do you need to get anything out of your car?” I step closer to her, feeling an invisible pull toward this mysterious beauty.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mitchell and Jefferson moving closer to her as well. We’ve never shown interest in the same woman before. It’s probably for the best if we take her to the arena to whoever is waiting for her there and forget we ever met her.
“No, this is all I have.” She uncrosses her arms to show a small purse.
“You could say I had to leave quickly." The fact that she shares even a tiny bit of information with us is a good sign, but that still doesn’t mean she likes us—tolerates us is more accurate.
Just then, her stomach growls, and her face turns a pretty shade of pink.
“Maybe we could stop at a gas station so I could grab some breakfast.”
We usher her into the car, and I can tell what my brothers are thinking — there’s no way we’re giving her any crappy gas station food. That’s not good enough for our baby girl.
The thought flashes into my mind before I even realize it. But instead of feeling disgusted by it, I’m fascinated by the idea of the three of us caring for and spoiling this little beauty for the rest of her life.