SWNOVELS Pucking Sweet: Chapter 77
“Wait, you told Ryan about us? Lukas—” I grab his arm before he can step under the bright lights of the beachside supper club.
For once, I get to attend a gala I’m not hosting. This is all the work of Mars and Tess and their little turtle team at Out of the Net. Colton is already inside. He got roped into helping Ryan with setup. Lukas and I are unfashionably late because I wasted a good forty minutes trying on every dress I own, praying one would properly conceal the bump. I ended up picking a flouncy lilac number with a full tulle skirt.
Lukas turns, devastating me in his dark blue suit. “You said we were done hiding.” His eyes flash with anger and frustration.
I know it’s not directed at me. I told them about the phone call with my mom, and they’ve been in a rage ever since. Colton thinks we should go “no contact” with my entire family. Lukas wants us to go to the wedding, but only so we can “fuck on the altar like fucking rabbits.”
I don’t feel ready to pursue either of those options. “I’m not saying we can’t tell anyone,” I assure him for the tenth time. “I’m just saying we don’t go full blast ‘this is us’ and make it front page news until after the wedding. Come on, that’s only, like, two months away.”
He groans.
“I know, if I can just deal with this in person, I can fix it,” I go on, my PR brain in hyperdrive. “I can smooth it over, manage it. Daddy is reasonable. I’ll talk to him. You two can talk to him too, show him how great you are—”
“Hey, if you inheriting your Nana’s money is hinging on me making a good impression with your fucking parents, then you can just light it on fire now.”
I step back. “So, you’re not even willing to try?”
“Oh, I’ll try,” he replies. “But this is what they’re gonna get,” he adds, gesturing down at himself. “I’m a know-nothing hockey player from Thunder Bay with a juvie record, too many tattoos, and a swearing problem. I can’t talk about racehorses or stock portfolios or whatever else the fuck it is that your people are into. And I’m telling you right now, your mom is just gonna use this as an excuse to try to drive a wedge between us.”
His words sink deep, hitting their mark. “I know she will.” Stepping in, I take his hand. “But she’ll fail, Lukas. And I told you both, this isn’t about the money.”
“Good, because we don’t fucking need it. We know you love your job, and you make good money all on your own. But work, don’t work. It doesn’t matter to us. We take care of you now, not some trust fund. Even if Cole retires, we’ll still be fine.”
I nod, leaning into his hand. God, why can’t things just be easy? Why do I have this bone-aching need to be seen and respected by my family? I should walk away. If people show a pattern of disrespecting you and your values, if they seek only to manipulate and control, you walk away, right? I would walk away from a job that treated me that way. I would certainly walk away from a romantic partner. Heck, I already did. Anderson was all of those things and more.
So why can’t I walk away from this? Why do I keep crawling back to them time and time again, desperate for their validation? And now I’m asking Colton and Lukas to crawl with me? I’m angry at myself. I’m angry at the stupid heart beating in my chest, telling me to keep trying, telling me this time will be different. Mom will love me for me. She’ll understand. She won’t put conditions on her love. She won’t threaten and manipulate me.
Lukas steps in, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad for you,” he assures me, saying what I need to hear.
I nod again, pressing myself to his chest.
“Come on,” he says after a minute. “If we’re any later, the only food left will be the tray garnishes.”
We make our way inside, and he splits off, heading over where all the other Rays are congregated. I put on my best smile and work the crowd a bit, saying “hello” to Tess and Mars, congratulating them on the event. Colton wanders past, handing me a tray of appetizers with a wink. He piled on all my favorites—shrimp cocktail, cubed cheese, veggies with hummus. There’s even something that looks like little Mac and Cheese cups.
Ten minutes later, I’m stuck in a corner with the ladies from the Jax Beach book club. They call themselves a book club, but they’re really more of a gossip and social club. These are some of the wealthiest women in the city. Their money in the right pockets can effect real change. Sure, I’ll talk up the turtles, but I have my own schmoozing agenda too.
Monica Graham-Ives has me by the arm, telling me all the gossip about her sister’s daughter’s salacious divorce. “Oh—and did I mention my nephew, Cabot?”
“I’m not sure that you did,” I say with a smile. Women like Monica are always trying to play matchmaker. I grew up with Annmarie St. James, so I know the game inside and out.
“Oh, Poppy, honey, you just have to meet him. Cabot is an engineer for Boeing. He recently got out of a long relationship, college sweethearts,” she adds. “But he’s just the kind of guy who would be perfect for you. Let me set you up.”
“Sure,” I say, knowing it’s the only way this will end. “Why don’t I take his number from you?” Classic dodge. I get his number, then promptly lose his number.
Monica reaches excitedly for her phone as an elbow brushes at my back. I hear the muttered, “’scuse me,” and my heart freaking stops. I glance over my shoulder to see Lukas walking away.
God. Of course he heard that and not Monica recounting her recent mole removal.
She taps her phone with one finger. “Okay, now let me see—”
“Actually, can you excuse me for teensy second?” I say, darting away. I follow after Lukas, weaving through the crowd. “Lukas,” I call out.
He doesn’t stop.
“Hey—” I catch up with him as he walks through the doors into the unused event room. It’s dark, stacks of chairs piled in the corner. “Lukas, come on, you didn’t hear what you—”
As soon as I’m through the door, he’s turning around. In his hands are a bottle of beer for him and a tonic water with lime for me. He drops both to the floor, letting them smash as he grabs me with both hands. I gasp as he reels me in, claiming my lips in a fierce kiss. A groan sits low in his throat as he walks me backward, slamming my shoulders into the wall.
Golden lights pools at our feet next to us, shining in through the glass doors. A sea of people laugh and chatter just beyond.
Lukas nips my neck, his mouth pressing in at my ear. “Who the fuck is Cabot, huh? And why are you taking his goddamn number?”
I smile, turned on by his jealousy as he works a hand up under the layers of tulle in my skirt. “Oh, he’s just a highly eligible bachelor,” I tease. “He’s an engineer for Boeing—”
“He’s dead,” he growls against my lips, working his hand under my panties.
“He’s nothing,” I say, holding his gaze as I ride his fingers. “He’s no one.”
He grins. “You remember the first time we ever fucked? I pressed you up against the goddamn ice machine and made you mine.”
“I remember.”
“We are gonna fight and fuck, scream and screw, until we’re old and gray, do you hear me? God—you’re mine, Poppy.”
“Yes,” I moan, kissing him again. I need him. I need this release. All the toxicity building up inside me from that awful phone call has to come out. “Please, god,” I beg.
A shadow of someone passing right in front of the glass doors has us both going still. I’m panting, pressed against the wall, Lukas’s fingers teasing my wet pussy. My lipstick is on his lips, my fingers messing his hair.
He looks around, eyes narrowed. “Come on.”
Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the corner of the empty banquet room, pushing his way into the bathroom. A row of three high windows along the top of the wall let in a stream of silver moonlight. Just outside this building, the sand stretches over the dunes down to the beach.
“I’m still mad about that goddamn phone call,” he admits.
“I know. I am too.”
“She hurt you.”
“She does that,” I reply with a shrug.
“I’m afraid of going to the wedding.” He drags a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid of what I’ll do, what I’ll say. I can’t stand by and watch people hurt you, Poppy. But I’m afraid if I do anything, I’ll make it worse.”
“Just be there,” I say, cupping his cheek. “Let me handle the rest?”
Stepping in, he smooths his hands over my bare shoulders. “I have to have you. Can’t fucking think, can’t calm down. Take the edge off, so I can go back out there and talk about the goddamn sea turtles.”
Smiling, I turn around, pressing my hands against the wall. “I remember our first time,” I say again, glancing over my shoulder at him. “I remember you got so deep, rode me so hard. I felt you for days, Lukas. I ached with it.”
He groans, working up my layers of tulle. “I’ve never stopped feeling you. You’re in my blood, in my head, in my fucking bones.”
“In my DNA,” I pant, spreading my legs for him as he reaches between my thighs, lining himself up at my entrance. We both sigh as he sinks in, adjusting his feet to take some of my weight. “In my heart,” I say, hands splayed as he begins to thrust.
He kisses my neck, his breath warm in my ear. “In my fucking soul.”
We fuck hard and fast, finding our rhythm as we each take what we need. He needs a quick recentering, reassurance that I’m his. I need comfort and the protection of his body. His love is like a shield, cloaking me and keeping me safe. We can do this. We can be together, and be happy, and all the pieces of my life can fall perfectly into place.
Ten minutes later, I make my way back into the party, cheeks flushed, the cum Lukas wouldn’t let me clean away sticky between my legs. I hurry over to the table where Rachel and Tess are standing. Rachel looks dynamite in a silky black dress, while Tess looks like a mermaid in blue. “Hey, y’all, what did I miss?” I snatch a carrot stick off Tess’s plate. “Anything good?”
Both women give me a once over. “Poppy…” Rachel glances behind me. “Where did you just come from?”
“The bathroom,” I reply, stealing another carrot stick.
“Don’t lie to me,” she teases. “Were you just hooking up with someone?”
Great, so I’m that freaking transparent? Oh god, I can’t lie to save my life. And Lukas is right, I don’t want to lie. I hate this. Turning to Rachel, I take my frustration out on her, “Why don’t you just scream your foul accusations to the high heavens?”
Next to me, Tess snorts. “You’re as bad as this one,” she says, jabbing a thumb at Rachel.
“Hey, I’ve been good all night,” Rachel replies. “The gala host’s wife isn’t allowed to sneak off into coat closets, right?”
“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” I feign. “I stepped out for five minutes to take a phone call and use the bathroom.”
As I speak, Lukas, walks right past us, straightening his tie as he winks at me. “Evening, ladies.”
I go still as Rachel and Tess exchange a quick glance.
“Poppy,” Rachel gasps the second he passes. “You and Novy—”
“Shhh.” I wave a hand in her face. “Will you hush up?”
“You horny little horndog,” Tess teases. “In front of the turtles, Poppy?”
Seriously? This woman caught me getting Eiffel-towered in a child’s bedroom last week. “Oh please, if you two aren’t the pot calling the kettle black. First, there’s you, Miss I Married Three Hockey Players,” I say at Rachel. Tess laughs, and I round on her. “And don’t think we don’t see the way you look at Langley like you wanna climb him like a tree.”
“Actually, it’s the other way around,” she teases. “He was the one climbing me when we first got here. I may have given him a lil’ taste in the storage room.”
I snatch a glass of wine off a passing tray as Rachel leans over with a cheeky little smile on her face. “So, uhh, how long have you two been . . . you know?”
“That is absolutely none of your business,” I say, taking a sip of the fruity wine. The second it touches my tongue, I spit it back in the glass. “Blegh—will someone take this away from me?”
Rachel and Tess watch in slow motion, their eyes going wide.
“Wait—are you pregnant?” asks Tess.
I freeze like a deer in the headlights. Whoops.
“Oh, Pop.” Rachel reaches out, squeezing my hand. “It’s Novy’s isn’t it? Does he know?”
God, do I just tell them? Do I let it out? I search their faces, my anxiety making me choke on the words. “I . . .”
Rachel searches my face, confused. “Wait, it’s not his?”
“Ohmygod,” Tess says from my other side. “She’s not sure.”
I take in the looks of surprise on their faces.
“You’re not, are you?” Tess presses. “You’re not sure.”
Slowly, I shake my head.
“This is a lot of information to digest at the turtle gala,” says Rachel. After a moment, she gives my hand another squeeze. “Well, are you—I mean—is it two guys on the team?”
Heart racing, I reach for the wine glass again, desperate for anything to do with my hands. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I mutter, shoving it away again. “No, okay? I don’t know who the father is.” Every awful, toxic thing my mother unloaded on me swirls in my head as I glare between my friends. “And yes, they’re both on the team. And yes, I know I’m a mess. So why don’t you just slap the scarlet A on my chest, and tie me to the stake already? Because this wanton hussy has two gentleman callers.”
They lean back, eyes wide.
“And you know what?” I go on, righteous indignation surging through me. “I’m not picking. You didn’t have to pick, so why should I?” I say at Rachel. I know she’s just a stand-in for my mother at this point, but she’s here, and she asked, and now she’s getting all my deflected rage. Distracted, I pick up the wine glass for a third time. The glass touches my lips, and I all but fling it over to Tess with a shrieked, “Gosh darn it!”
She rescues me from the wine, setting it aside on the next table over.
“It’s Morrow,” says Rachel. “You’ve started something with Novy and Morrow. Right?”
I take her hand. “Please, Rach, you can’t say anything. I’m not ready for people to know. I’m not—we’re not like you, okay?” I’m stumbling all over my words as my head wars with my heart. “We’re—this hasn’t been easy for us the way it seems to be so easy for you. The boys are—it’s just not easy to fall into something like this . . .” Not when you have a family who doesn’t support you. Not when you have a lifetime of personal and professional training that has made you conflict-avoidant to a fault. Not when you have the added burden of wanting to protect the peace and security of a child.
Rachel squeezes my hand. “I won’t say anything, Pop. It’s not my business. It’s not anyone’s business.”
I sniff back my tears, letting go of the rest of my anxiety before it eats a hole through my insides. “I just—god, I never meant for any of this to happen. And now it just keeps happening. Four months ago, I was arguing with Lukas in an Uber. Now, I’m meeting him in empty bathrooms at charity events like we’re a pair of horny teenagers.” Echoing his words, a smile flits across my lips. “If we’re not screamin’, we’re screwin’, and I don’t know how to stop.”
I don’t want to stop.
“And Morrow?” Rachel asks.
Looking out across the party, I see him standing with Lukas and some of the other defensemen. They’re both laughing, Lukas relaxed now that he’s had a taste of me. As I watch, he brushes a hand down Colton’s back. The others don’t notice. The others don’t care.
But I notice. I care. It’s not the touch of a teammate or a friend. It’s the claiming, reassuring touch of a lover, a life partner, a soul mate.
Calmness settles in my chest for the first time since the phone call. “I don’t know how to stop,” I say again.
I’ll never stop. Lord, help me, I will never stop loving these men.