Forever Pucked (35 page)

“Sure does.”

Daisy twirls a lock of hair—since it’s no longer held in place with six cans of hairspray—as she considers this. “I can see that.”

I think she and my mother may have gone for drinks, because they’re both glassy-eyed. Or Daisy’s been feeding my mom Robbie’s scooby snacks. Both are realistic possibilities.

When the cashier gets to the end of the whips-and-chains outfits, Charlene says, “The rest of that stuff is hers. That’s what we get for using the same basket.” She tosses a credit card on the counter, but not the one she used to pay for the other stuff. The total is more than two thousand dollars. Which seems insane.

“I’ll give you the money as soon as we’re home.”

“It’s fine,” she whispers dismissively.

“It’s way expensive. You’re not paying for that.”

“I have a special card from Darren.”

“What?”

“He has expensive taste. In some things.”

“That’s cryptic.”

She lifts a shoulder and smiles.

“I’m hungry,” Sunny says.

“We should get dinner! And then we should go see some male strippers!” my mom shouts.

Jesus. Will this day of embarrassment never end?

I Will Puck You Forever

ALEX

My dad is a mellow guy, but I guess that’s what you get when you test medical maryjane for a living. Not much riles him, and most of the time I really appreciate that. When I decided to hang up the figure skates and pursue a career in professional hockey, my dad was the one who took the brunt of my mother’s disappointment.

When I screwed things up with Violet by stupidly denying our relationship in a very public way over endorsement opportunities, he was there to tell me to stop being a fucking idiot, only not in those words.

When I had the accident this year, I was mopey and bitchy and taking it out on the people around me. My dad told me I should probably start eating weed brownies and appreciate the fact that my injuries weren’t more serious and I’d still have a career when I recovered. Weed brownies aside, he was right, as he often is.

When I was struggling to get Violet to agree to a wedding date and moaning over how much she worked, my dad gently suggested I reevaluate my life goals and what was important to me. Money might buy me comfort, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to buy me another Violet if I drove her insane with the wedding crap or made her feel like her career wasn’t important. Again, he was right.

And when my sister surprised us all with the pregnancy, my dad was the one to point out that of all the people in our family, Sunny was the most equipped to deal with babies, because she’d grown up in a house with two of them—me and him—and two dogs. And he was right, even though I hated to admit it.

But all that aside, right now I’m annoyed with him. He’s not sensing the urgency. We have suits sorted out, and we have rings. I’m having custom ones made when we get home, but the simple ones we got will work for now—I just want to put a ring on Violet. So she’s mine. Forever. And not in a possessive, club-her-over-the-head kind of way. Okay, maybe a bit like that, but mostly not.

Mostly I’m excited that she’s finally going to be my wife, and once we’re married I can start arguing my case for a large family.

So the rings are bought and I’ve even managed to set up a nice dinner for all of us after the ceremony. I’ve also called her boss to clear an extended vacation. Tomorrow night we’re flying to Hawaii for two weeks. My plan is to have an absurd amount of sex with my wife. And to relax. And to love her.

But we have two outstanding problems: the venue and my vows. I’ve always planned to write my own, not use the stock crap you repeat after the officiant. I’m not too worried about that, even though I’ve had three beers, and Darren has ordered me another. I know exactly how I feel about Violet, so writing it down shouldn’t be difficult.

That leaves me with the venue. I’ve looked at every twenty-four-hour chapel in a thirty-mile radius of the Strip. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with them, per se. I would just like someone other than an Elvis impersonator to marry us.

My dad doesn’t seem to share my focus on the matter, despite the fact that I’m getting married in less than twenty-four-hours.

“I can do it.” Lance takes another sip of his beer and leans back in his chair until it’s resting on two legs.

Everyone stares at him.

“You can do what?”

“I can officiate the wedding, if you want to see about having it in a real church. I mean, it’s short notice, and I don’t even know if you’ll be able to find a place…or maybe one of these chapels will let me stand in.”

I continue staring at him, unsure if he’s joking or not. I don’t think he is.

“Or not. It was just a thought.” He drains half his beer in a big gulp.

Darren looks up from his phone, which he’s been involved in most of the day. Apparently Charlene has been sending him pictures. “You’re ordained?”

Lance nods, like that’s all the explanation required.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Randy asks the question I don’t.

“Nope.” He shifts around, clearly uncomfortable with the way we’re all gawking at him.

I don’t know what he expected when he dropped that kind of bomb. Lance is the most notorious playboy in the NHL. He has a reputation for taking multiple women to bed. At the same time. Together. All at once. And now he’s telling us he’s an ordained minister?

“So…does that mean you wanted to be a man of the cloth?” I ask.

“A man of the loin cloth!” Miller smacks his thigh.

No one else laughs.

Lance rolls the bottle between his palms. “A friend needed a favor a while back. I got internet certified. But it’s legit.” The phrase comes out sounding distinctly Scottish. “Anyway, the offer is there. Whatever you decide.”

“That would awesome. If we can find a place that will let you do it, and as long as it’s legal and binding.”

“Don’t want yer girl gettin’ away?” Lance laughs.

“Nope.”

We spend the next hour combing the area for churches. It’s not much of a surprise that getting access to one isn’t easy on such short notice, but a sizable donation is always a great incentive to let people have what they want.

We take a trip out to visit the location and make sure what we’re seeing on the internet matches the actual interior. It’s a beautiful church—much nicer than the chapels on the Strip, particularly the ones that have an annulment center next door.

I send the information to Violet, who seems excited by the prospect of a real church, and is as surprised as I was that Lance is ordained.

I get a text from her later informing me that the girls are going to watch beefcakes get naked, and it was her mother’s idea. I’m not surprised. Skye’s a bit of a wild one.

We don’t end up at a strip club, which would’ve been awkward with Sidney and Miller. I’d feel weird looking at naked women with my fiancée’s dad and brother around, step or not. Instead we hit the casino, where girls dance half-naked on little stages anyway, so it’s almost the same thing.

Around midnight we head back to the room. I’m buzzed and looking forward to some easy loving: boob sex and a couple soft orgasms with my tongue for Violet. Except my room is empty of Violet and almost all of her things. For a few harrowing moments I panic, thinking she’s changed her mind. Then I see the note on the bed.

Apparently I’m not going to see her until we get to the church tomorrow.

-&-

In the middle of the night I’m woken by the sound of my door opening. I haven’t been able to sleep all that well—too excited and nervous, I guess.

“Alex?”

“Baby?” I can make out her shadowy form, but it’s dark in the room. “What are you doing in here? I thought I wasn’t going to see you until the wedding.”

She feels her way closer, her hand coming to rest on my sheet-covered ankle. “I couldn’t sleep.” A low thud follows, and Violet hisses.

I sit up and reach for her, pulling her closer. She’s wearing a robe—satin, not terry. She drops down on the edge of the bed, and I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. “Are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe a little. I wrote my vows. I think I’ll have to hold cue cards.”

I smile in the darkness. “No one will care.”

“You’ll have yours memorized.”

“I can hold a piece of paper if it’ll make you feel better.”

She runs her hand over my chest, pushing the covers down. “Okay.”

“You want to lie down with me for a while?”

I see her head move in the darkness, but instead of answering she climbs over my body and pushes her way through the sheets to lie next to me. “I know it’s silly, but I didn’t want to sleep without you tonight.”

I slide my arm under her head and hold her close. “You’re going to be my wife in less than twelve hours.”

She presses her nose against my neck and kisses my collarbone. “I know. I can’t wait.”

“Should I set an alarm?” I’m already settling into her warmth.

“I’ll just stay here for a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

She puts her hand on my chest, over my heart. I lace my fingers through hers and close my eyes again.

-&-

The door to the room bursts open, shocking me awake. “I can’t find—” Skye’s shoulders drop. “Oh, thank God.”

Violet lifts her head and blinks groggily. She’s been drooling on my chest, and her face and hair are damp from falling asleep on me.

“’S goin’ on?” She swipes her hand across her mouth.

“Do you have any idea how much you scared all of us?” Skye asks in an overly loud voice. “We thought you’d been kidnapped!”

“What? Why would you think that?” Violet’s voice is raspy with sleep. It has an inconvenient effect in present company.

Charlene peeks her head in. “See? I told you she’d be in here.”

“I woke up and you were gone! Do you know how worried I was? And you.” Skye points a finger at me. “You’re not supposed to encourage this. You were supposed to have a last night apart to make the anticipation more anticipatory for tonight.”

“What year is this? Nineteen-twenty? Do I even have the right to vote?” Violet’s awake enough for snark, but apparently not quite with it enough to realize I’m sporting a solid case of morning wood. She throws back the covers before I have a chance to react. I’m wearing boxer briefs. They’re white. They cover the issue, but they don’t in any way hide what’s happening.

“Holy Jesus fuck.” Charlene slaps a hand over Skye’s eyes.

“Was that an optical illusion?” Skye pries at Charlene’s fingers while Violet clues in and yanks the covers back up.

“Okay. Now I get your issue with Area 51.” Charlene coughs.

When I’m covered again, Charlene drops her hand and Violet climbs over me, holding the edges of her robe together. I don’t even know what she’s wearing under there. She drops a kiss on my lips, no tongue. She pulls back and smiles. “I’m going to go get pretty so I can marry you!”

I fold my arm behind my head and return the grin. “I’d marry you right this second; you’re gorgeous just the way you are.”

Skye makes an
aww
sound, and Charlene pretends to gag. Neither of them seems to be able to look me in the eye as they mumble goodbye and usher Violet out of the room. I’m about to take care of my hard-on when my dad busts in, eating a muffin.

“All right, son, let’s get you ready to walk your ass down the aisle.”

My phone gets confiscated, so I’m not able to contact Violet for the rest of the morning. We have breakfast, and then a stylist—apparently hired by my mom—comes up to the suite to do our hair and make sure our nails look nice.

Lance bites his, so they don’t have anything to work with. Darren has lovely cuticles, according to the manicure girl, and Randy refuses to let the chick near his beard. He’s really attached to it. A photographer, magically hired by my mom, comes in to snap a bunch of pictures, then disappears—probably back to where the girls are.

At one-thirty, we get into a limo and head to the church. And then we wait for the girls to show up. Darren passes along a message that they’ll be here soon, and suddenly I’m nervous. I wipe my hands on my pants and make Darren check his breast pocket for the rings for the millionth time.

“You got this.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze.

Ten minutes later, he gets another message letting us know they’re here. We don’t have to wait for anyone else to show up, or for people to get seated. Lance stands at the front of the church with a Bible tucked under his arm. It’s surreal, to be honest.

The organist, who showed up five minutes ago, starts playing wedding music. It’s go time. My dad comes down the aisle with my mom on one arm and Skye on the other. Skye’s dress is low-cut for a wedding, but that’s Skye. My mom is beautiful.

Next Charlene and Darren come down the aisle, followed by Miller and Sunny, and Lily and Randy.

The entire world seems to stop when Violet appears in the church doors, her arm hooked through Sidney’s. They pause in the doorway. It’s like a damn postcard. She tilts her head up to look at him as he says something to her, and she nods.

She stands straighter, but on the first step she stumbles a little.

Lance puts a hand on my shoulder before I can make a move.

“He’s got her. Be patient. She’ll come to you.”

It’s true. I chased her from the beginning, and in the end I’ve realized it’s always about me letting her find her way when she’s ready. And she is now. I can see it in her excited smile, and the way she tries to make Sidney walk faster to get to me.

When she’s a few feet away, they stop. Sidney whispers something, and she hugs him hard and then, because she’s Violet, she pulls a tissue out from between her boobs and dabs under her eyes. Stuffing it back in, she turns to me and smiles.

I extend a hand, and she takes it. “You’re the most gorgeous woman on the face of the earth.”

Her hair frames her face in soft ringlets. Her dress is perfect, highlighting her insane curves. If I wasn’t as nervous as I am, I’d have a serious hard-on.

“You look superhot.”

I wink. “Ready, baby?”

“So ready.” She leans in to whisper, “And I don’t mean that in a pervy way, yet.”