Puck One Night Stands: a grumpy-sunshine, best friend’s brother hockey rom com (Chicago Racketeers Book 1)

I WAKE up in the morning in bed alone. I’m very surprised by that, to be honest.

I stretch, and note additional soreness. And smile.

Dang, last night was fun.

I want to do it again. And again. And again.

But I’m alone and I need at least one of my hot boyfriends to do anything like what we did last night. I lay staring at the ceiling. Are they my boyfriends now? Hmm…I might need to discuss that with Luna.

But my bladder and my stomach both insist I get out of bed and take care of them first.

I head into Nathan’s bathroom, pee, wash my face, brush my teeth, run a brush through my hair, and contemplate what I’m going to wear.

It only takes me ten seconds to realize that of course I’m going to wear one of Nathan’s dress shirts. And no panties.

I pad down the hall toward the kitchen, hoping at least one of them is still here.

I’m delighted to hear all three voices before I turn the corner.

I hang back for a moment, just listening to how they are together when they don’t know I’m there.

“So, is Dani going to be calling you daddy? And, more importantly, do we all have to call you daddy?” Crew asks.

“Why would she call me daddy?” Nathan asks, his tone sardonic.

“Well, you know, because we all have to ask you for permission for things,” Crew says.

I know him well enough to know that he’s grinning. I cover my mouth.

“Gee, I thought maybe that was a jab at his age,” Michael comments in his smooth, deep voice.

“His age?” Crew asks. “What about his age?”

“Nathan is a little older than the rest of us,” Michael says.

I can picture his smile as well and my own grows.

“No kidding?” Crew says. “I had no idea. He’s so…laid-back. Fun. Easy-going. Not at all buttoned-up and old-man-ish.”

I giggle softly, also imagining Nathan’s face.

“McNeill?” Nathan asks.

“Yeah, boss?”

“You may call me Mr. Armstrong.”

“Even in bed?”

“Especially in bed.”

My stomach swoops. I’m grinning like an idiot, but also that sounds like Nathan is open to more of last night.

“Damn, that’s kinda hot,” Crew says.

“Besides, if anyone gets the label daddy, it’s Hughes, because he corrals us all.”

That is true.

“And we’re going to put down some other rules,” Nathan says.

“Don’t even say that you always get her pussy first,” Crew says. “That’s not fair.”

Nathan clears his throat and I feel another swoop.

“I was going to say that you have to clear out by seven the next morning.”

Crew laughs. “No way. No morning sex with our girl without me.”

Our girl. I love when they call me that.

“No one’s having morning sex today,” Michael says. “We worked her over pretty good last night. This morning is for us to be sweet, romantic. Pancakes, coffee, kissing her goodbye, showing her we like her for more than her body.”

“Agreed,” Nathan says.

I can hear Crew’s sigh from here. “Fine.”

Hmm… that is very sweet.

But also, no morning sex?

“And out by seven on a weekday,” Nathan repeats. “We do have jobs, McNeill, including Danielle.”

“Today’s a weekday,” I say as I come around the corner and head toward the kitchen. “Do I need to get out of your hair?”

I’m disappointed but it’s not unreasonable.

Nathan turns and spots me wearing his dress shirt and nothing else. His nostrils flare and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean today. Can I get you a coffee?”

Not today implies the future and that makes me feel giddy as hell. I want to jog in place with my arms out while I squeal in glee that I might have another night like last night. But I make an attempt at playing it cool.

I nod. “Yes. Please.”

Nathan is wearing a robe, open over his boxer briefs, which should look ridiculous but actually looks sexy as hell. I’ve never seen a man other than my father wear a robe in real life, but Nathan looks nothing like my neurotic and thrifty dad in his ratty fleece. This robe looks like it costs more than my rent, and Nathan looks rumpled, and sleepy, and sophisticated, and commanding all at once. Like when he was fucking me last night, gripping my hips so hard I’m sure I have faint bruises this morning.

Michael tells Nathan, “She likes both cream and sugar.”

He remembers how I take my coffee because of course he does. Michael is amazing at keeping track of all the little details. Currently, he’s ladling pancake mix onto a griddle. He’s dressed in his clothes from the night before, but his shirt is unbuttoned, giving me a fantastic view of his chest. I refuse to blush thinking of how he came in my mouth and I swallowed with enthusiasm.

Maybe I blush a little. It was just so hot.

“That smells delicious,” I say, taking a deep breath as I approach the kitchen island.

Crew is in his underwear with a morning erection I’d like to get my hands on. They’ve decided on no morning sex, but I know who is the weak link here. I saunter over to Crew and wrap my arms around his neck. He makes a sound of appreciation in the back of his throat and squeezes my ass enthusiastically with both hands.

“Good morning.” I kiss him, teasing my tongue between his lips.

He groans and sets me back with willpower he must use in playing hockey. “Good morning, sweetheart. I like you for more than your body.”

That makes me laugh. “I know that.”

“You’re not supposed to actually say that,” Nathan tells him. “You’re supposed to just show her.”

“Oh, like you do?” Crew rolls his eyes. “Where’s that coffee, Boss?”

Nathan asked if I wanted coffee but has made exactly no move to get me any. He’s just standing there watching me and Crew with his own erection tenting his boxer briefs.

Nathan swears and goes over to the absurdly complicated coffee, latte, and espresso maker. It looks so elaborate it probably also makes tea, smoothies, and ice cream. It might even turn water into wine from the looks of it.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m getting it.”

I’m more amused than annoyed. He was enjoying watching me with Crew.

Michael flips the pancakes. “How did you sleep?” he asks me.

“Like I had three incredibly sexy guys fucking me all night.”

Crew groans again. Nathan pauses in fiddling with the buttons on the machine, his shoulders stiffening.

“What does that mean specifically?” Michael asks, giving me a slow smile as he divides pancakes across four plates.

“It means totally satisfied,” I say, stretching a little as I lean across the island to be closer to him. I am well aware that Nathan’s shirt is riding up and Crew can see a peek of ass cheek. “I didn’t even dream because I didn’t need to. All my dreams came true last night.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard since you coming last night. Multiple times. I do love you screaming our names, Dani.” Michael moves around the island and hands me a plate. “Eat.” He brushes over my lips with a soft kiss. He tastes like blueberries.

I sigh in contentment and take a seat. “Wow. This looks amazing. I would have been happy with a cup of coffee and one of those pastries Nathan has in the fridge.”

“They’re lemon blueberry pancakes. I’m no chef, but I enjoy spending time in the kitchen. It relaxes me. And I really like having other people to cook for.”

Nathan finally hands me a cup of coffee but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t eat his pancakes either. He mostly just stabs at the stack with his fork.

It occurs to me as the rest of us eat and chat that we’re in Nathan’s apartment, interrupting his morning routine. When we’re obviously all done eating, except for Nathan, I decide to take the lead and give him his space. “Well, Crew, Michael, we should probably head out after we clean up.”

Nathan doesn’t even protest. He also says, “I have a housekeeper. You don’t have to clean up.”

That makes me frown. “It takes two seconds to put a plate in the dishwasher.” I can tell something is weighing on him. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe he just wants to be alone.

Crew spends just as much time slapping my butt with the dish towel as he does cleaning up, but we manage to get the kitchen put back together with Michael while Nathan is in the shower. He did dump his uneaten pancakes in the trash and put his plate in the dishwasher though.

Baby steps.

That seems to be the way it is with Nathan.

I never imagined he would be sharing his bed with these guys and yet he didn’t even complain when I asked him to scoot over. I don’t want to push him so far out of his comfort zone that he bails because this whole arrangement works because it’s all of them. I can’t imagine losing Nathan in my trio of guys. It would change the entire dynamic, and I’m happy with it exactly the way it was last night.

That’s why when he comes back out, fully dressed in a suit for work looking like, well, a billion dollars, I’m dressed and ready to go when Michael and Crew give casual goodbyes to him.

“Danielle, can you stay for a minute?” Nathan asks. “I wanted to explain something.”

I exchange looks with Crew and Michael but they don’t seem to have any more clue than I do what it might be about.

“Of course.”

“Later, Nate,” Crew says with a wave. Then he slaps my ass and gives me a resounding smack on the top of my head. “Talk to you soon, sweetheart.”

Michael kisses my cheek. “Have a wonderful day. Bye, Nathan, thanks for hosting.”

“Don’t say that again. It sounds… untoward,” Nathan says with a frown.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Crew says, hitting the elevator button.

Michael just shakes his head with a grin. “Got it. Nothing untoward.”

Then they’re gone and I’m alone with Nathan. I look at him expectantly. “You don’t eat breakfast?” I ask, when he doesn’t immediately speak.

“What?” He looks up from where he’s been studiously adjusting his jacket sleeve. “No. I usually just drink a protein shake. I don’t like to chew in the morning.”

That makes me want to snicker. Nathan doesn’t like a lot of things. But I can tell from his expression he needs me to be serious right now.

I just wait for him to offer up a reason he wanted me to hang back.

Finally he clears his throat, crosses his arms over his chest, and meets my gaze. “You asked about condoms. I don’t need them because I can’t have children. I can’t get you pregnant.”

My eyebrows shoot up. That’s an important piece of information about him and he just announced it like he got us a table for two at eight. “How do you know that?” I ask carefully, wanting to know more.

“I told you my parents died when I was twelve in a car accident and I was injured too. I won’t go into details but infertility was one of the results.”

“Oh, Nathan,” I say before I can prevent it from slipping out. I can’t even envision what kind of injury would result in that. “That’s terrible. You must have been in so much emotional and physical pain.”

He winces. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry.” The man without family beyond his ailing grandfather can’t even have his own. All the money in the world can’t buy him a biological child.

But he just shrugs. “I was so young I’d never even given much thought to having kids. The chance was gone before I knew I wanted it, you know? I think it would have been harder if I was older.”

“That’s a lot of loss all at once.” I reach out and take his hand. “Come here. Come sit down with me. Unless you have to get to the office?”

The corner of his mouth turns up ever so slightly. “I’m the boss, remember? I don’t answer to anyone.”

I lean in closer and closer on tiptoes, expecting him to pull back. But he holds his ground until we’re practically nose to nose. I grab his tie and give him a soft kiss. “Hey, guess what, Nathan Armstrong? From now on you have to answer to me. And you don’t have to shoulder burdens all by yourself, do you understand that?” I tug the tie to emphasize my point. “I’m your lover but I’m your friend, too, you know.”

His head shifts from side to side. “No,” he says, his voice low and raw. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do.”

Nathan

Danielle is smiling up at me, confidently and sweetly, as if what she just said isn’t the equivalent of an atomic bomb being dropped on me. I stare down at her, taking in every faint freckle dotting her creamy skin, the slight upturn of her adorable button nose, the tempting cupid’s bow of her perfect lips, and the messy tousle of her auburn hair, untamed still after our night of group sex.

I let two other guys fuck her in front of me. Hell, at the same time. And I was more turned on than anything else, which is a total mind fuck. I never would have dreamed I’d get into watching a woman I love be pleasured by other men. Yet, all I could think was that I could squash my jealousy and personal desires because Danielle takes priority over me.

I want to give her everything and if that means sharing her with Crew and Michael, both of whom I actually like, in spite of all my grumbling, I will.

But now she is being the generous one. Giving me something I didn’t even know I needed or wanted.

Friendship.

And love.

The emerald green of her eyes are shining with an emotion I can’t quite grasp, or believe, or want to acknowledge. Love.

I don’t want to be wrong.

Because I’m not really all that lovable. I can admit that. I’m a bossy, grumpy asshole who is lacking a sensitivity chip. A woman hasn’t told me she loved me since I was twenty-five, and when my college girlfriend broke up with me, her departure speech included such gems as “loving you is slow torture,” and “being in love with you is the equivalent of jumping into a shark tank covered in bait.”

I’m not wrong about how I feel.

But I don’t want to be wrong about how Danielle feels, so I don’t say a goddamn word. I just stand there like a stone statue.

“How often do you see your grandfather?” she asks.

Swallowing the damn golf ball size lump in my throat I force myself to speak. I’m fantastic at pulling my shit together and faking that I’m fucking fine but it’s hard to fake anything with her. Maybe I don’t need to. Isn’t that what she just implied?

“At least twice a week. I try to go as often as I can but sometimes the team schedule makes it difficult.”

“Can I go with you next time and meet him?”

My heart starts to beat unnaturally fast. “What? Why?” I ask, both secretly thrilled and terrified all at once.

Being vulnerable around Danielle scares me, like tarantulas and a losing hockey season, but at the same time, I love that she doesn’t seem turned off by my rusty insides.

“Because he’s important to you. And you’re important to me.”

Fuck, just like that I’m done. Sunk. It’s over. I’m in love with Danielle and there’s no stopping it now.

“You’re important to me too,” I say. My voice is gruff and I hate that. I force myself to smooth it over. “I’d love to take you to meet my grandfather. He’ll be shocked that I managed to score myself a nice woman.”

She smiles. “I can’t wait because I want to ask him what you were like as a kid. Did you wear a suit as an eight-year-old?”

I give a crack of laughter, relieved to lean on humor, but also, happy. Just fucking happy to be around her. “Smart ass. No, I did not.”

“I bet you were the guy all the girls wanted as a teenager. The aloof and devastatingly handsome hockey heir.”

I brush her hair back and shake my head, amused. “Hardly. I was a little bit shy, actually.”

Danielle laughs out loud. “Bullshit.”

“It’s true. I took a freshman to my senior prom because I didn’t have the balls to ask any of the girls in my class. I just charged up to this cute girl on the volleyball team and demanded, “Go to prom with me,” and she blinked and said, “Okay.”

“So nothing has actually changed,” Danielle says. Her eyes are twinkling and she slaps my shoulder in delight. “You’re shy? Is that what all this big bad brooding boss act is?”

Well, fuck. That is not what I meant. “No, no, fuck no. Don’t you dare tell that to McNeill and Hughes.” I should be horrified. But I’m laughing because being around Danielle makes me lighter, amused, less defensive. It’s easy to share with Danielle. It’s easy to be myself, no walls up, not guarded, not painfully aware that everyone wants something from the rich guy.

I’m just Nathan with her—hell, maybe even Nate—and I like that.

“Or what?” she asks playfully. “What are you going to do to me?”

I give her ass a smack and it’s not a mere tap. It has some power behind it. “You will be punished.”

Danielle gasps with pleasure. “I can’t wait.”

God, this woman is everything.