Sin Bin (Denver Rebels Book 3)

by Maureen Smith

  There were more nods of agreement.

  After a reflective silence, Viggo drank some wine, put his glass down and sent a marveling glance around the table. “Man, what a crazy season we had. So much happened on and off the ice. I still can’t believe Reid and I will be married men by the end of the summer. And what about Logan’s long-lost love coming back into his life? Man, talk about fate.”

  “Hear, hear,” Hunter and Reid agreed warmly, tapping their forks against their glasses while Logan smiled.

  “It’s been one hell of a ride.” Viggo grinned. “If we win the Cup, I might lose my fucking mind.”

  The others laughed and agreed.

  Logan tuned out the ensuing conversation about the playoffs, his thoughts lingering on Jupiter. There was no doubt in his mind that fate had brought them back together, and he couldn’t be more grateful. Sometimes it scared him just how much he needed her. He’d shared parts of himself with her that he’d never shared with anyone else, including the men at this table. He’d opened himself up to her because he loved her and trusted her in a way he’d never trusted another human being. He trusted her with his secrets, with his deepest fears and insecurities. She gave him solace from the demons of his past. She was his saving grace, a soothing balm for his battered soul.

  He tuned back into the conversation as Reid pushed his empty plate away, patted his stomach and asked, “So what’s for dessert?”

  Hunter chuckled. “What makes you think I’m serving dessert?”

  Reid grinned. “You always do.”

  “Not this—”

  “Hunter?” Juliette interrupted, poking her head through the doorway. “Should I bring out dessert now?”

  A burst of laughter swept over the table.

  Hunter smiled at his young housekeeper. “Give us a few minutes, s’il vous plaît.”

  “Certainement. Would you like me to take your plates?”

  “Non, merci.” Hunter smirked at the others. “We’ll let our guests clear the table. They don’t get to eat and run.”

  Juliette giggled, her gray eyes sparkling at him. “As you wish.”

  After she left, Viggo grinned at everyone. “I nominate Reid to clear the dishes.”

  “Why me?” Reid protested.

  Viggo shrugged. “You’re the only non-bilingual person at this table.”

  “Not true! I am bilingual!”

  Three pairs of eyebrows shot up. “What other language do you speak?”

  Reid flashed a cocky grin. “I speak the language of love. Just ask Nadia.”

  The others laughed and clowned him.

  When the hilarity died down, Logan said to Hunter, “You’re gonna have to email your Ossobuco recipe to me so I can attempt to make it for Jupiter.”

  “I have a better idea,” Hunter countered. “Make her something that you already know how to prepare. Maybe one of your favorite Latin dishes. Cooking for a woman is incredibly sweet and romantic, but the gesture will mean more to her if the dish has special significance for you.”

  Logan pursed his lips thoughtfully, pondering the suggestion.

  “He’s right,” Reid said. “Nadia knows that spaghetti was my favorite meal growing up, so she loves it whenever I make it for her. Your dish doesn’t have to be super fancy or complicated. As long as it comes from your heart, that’s all that really matters.”

  “Ahem,” Viggo coughed into his hand. “It also needs to taste good.”

  Reid grinned at him. “That’s rich coming from a guy who can barely boil water.”

  Viggo ducked his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “I grew up in a household with four women. Learning to cook never really seemed a big priority.” He peeked up from under his blond lashes. “Did I mention that Scarlett’s an amazing cook?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “She’s also a busy rock star who’s gonna be on the road as much as you are,” Hunter reminded him dryly. “She won’t always be available to cook for you.”

  “Nor do I expect her to.” Viggo brought his glass to his mouth. “Fortunately I’m rich as fuck and can afford a personal chef.”

  The group burst into laughter and guffaws as Viggo grinned and knocked back his wine.

  Hunter stood and topped off their glasses, then raised his own in a toast. “To friendship and brotherly bonds that go beyond the ice. To the start of playoffs and another chance to become the champions we know we are.” He raised his glass higher, his eyes gleaming. “To the motherfucking Denver Rebels!”

  “Fuck yeah!” the others roared, jumping to their feet.

  They clinked glasses loudly and chugged their wine, then broke into the team’s signature “rebel yell” chant before dissolving into raucous laughter.

  Chapter Thirty

  MEADOW

  “The denver rebels have one of the most physically imposing top lines in the league. That’s not hyperbole, folks. Those guys are huge! Duchene, Holden and Brassard stand at six-four while Sandström is six-five. That’s why they’re called the Four Horsemen of Hockey. Seriously! When those big bodies come out attacking the net and playing their hard-charging style of hockey, they’re pretty unstoppable. I mean, there’s a reason they’re all nominated for NHL awards. I think it’s safe to say that the Dallas Stars are gonna have their hands full throughout this series.”

  “That’s right, baby! They don’t want no smoke!” Scarlett’s hooting and hollering made everyone laugh as she danced in front of the gigantic flatscreen television that dominated one wall.

  Just hours before the game, Meadow and the girls had gathered at Reid’s house for a tailgate party. Gamenetic employees had been given a half day off in celebration of the first day of playoffs. Nadia and Jess—who worked at the same community college—got off early on Fridays. Bianca had snuck out of work at three and headed over to join the festivities. Ana came, too.

  Everyone was lounging around the huge media room, drinking cocktails and noshing on delicious finger foods while pregame hoopla blared from the television. An hour from now they would be picked up in the limo that Reid had arranged to take them to the arena. They were meeting Nadia and Scarlett’s families there. Scarlett was singing the national anthem and her band was performing during the first intermission.

  A deep sigh came from Jess, who lay stretched out on an overstuffed leather recliner with her feet up. She took a leisurely sip of her vodka cranberry and waved her glass in Scarlett’s direction. “Are you sure we can’t sit in that nice cushy suite with your family?”

  Scarlett snorted. “You can sit wherever you want. I’m sitting where Viggo can see me screaming my head off every time he scores.”

  Nadia grinned. “Reid prefers having me in the stands as well. So I’m sticking with Scarlett.”

  “Same.” Meadow chuckled. “My boss invited me to join him and the management team in their suite. When I told him that Logan wanted me closer, he grinned ecstatically and said, ‘Gotta give the man what he wants!’”

  Everyone laughed.

  “You should totally take advantage of your boss being such a fanboy,” Jess said half seriously. “I mean, let’s say you don’t feel like going to work one day. You could just call up your boss and say ‘I won’t be coming in today. I need to stay home and ride Logan’s dick to help him unwind before the next game.’ Your boss would be like ‘Atta girl! That’s the spirit!’”

  Raucous laughter roared across the room.

  Meadow grimaced. “I wish I could say that would never happen—”

  “Which part?” Jess teased. “You playing hooky to ride Logan’s dick? Or your boss cosigning it?”

  The others howled with bawdy laughter. Meadow just shook her head.

  Ana bit into a teriyaki beef skewer. “Since I don’t have a man on the team, I’ll be sitting with Luke and the rest of the family.”

  Bianca sighed. “I’m so torn. On one hand, watching the game from a cushy suite is hella tempting. On the other hand, sitting with the girls is so much fun. Scarlett
is a riot. Plus I like being close enough to watch sweat drip off the players’ faces.” She leered. “Only the hot ones, of course.”

  As the others laughed, Meadow threw Bianca a teasing grin. “Does Nelson know you’re perving on the players?”

  She grinned deviously. “Nelson sits in the press box. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  More laughter broke out.

  Jess sipped her cocktail and sighed. “I thought about accepting Jenna’s invitation to sit with the other WAGs, but some of those chicks are downright mean.”

  “I noticed that in Vegas,” Bianca said grimly. “They hardly talked to us during our spa appointment.”

  “Screw ’em,” Scarlett said dismissively. “We’re not going anywhere, so they’re just gonna have to get used to seeing us around.”

  “Damn right,” Jess said with a flip of her hair. “I’m not begging for anyone’s friendship or acceptance. But I do hope they’ll at least try to be nicer at Nadia’s— Hey!” she yelped in surprise when Scarlett threw a balled-up napkin at her head.

  Scarlett gave her a pointed glare, silently reminding her that Nadia’s bridal shower in June was supposed to be a surprise.

  Jess clapped her hand over her mouth, dismayed at her near slip-up.

  Fortunately Nadia was bent over her phone and not paying attention to the conversation. “Jenna wants us to take a selfie in our jackets so she can put it on Instagram.”

  Inspired by the Washington Capitals’ WAGs, Jenna had ordered custom denim jackets emblazoned with players’ last names and jersey numbers. She wanted the Rebels’ WAGs to wear the jackets to show solidarity with the team during the playoffs.

  Meadow was still getting used to the idea of being an NHL WAG. It was like belonging to another sorority, except she didn’t get the same sense of sisterhood that she got from her college sorority. Her sorors would give her the shirt off their backs. She couldn’t say the same about NHL WAGs. Not the Denver ones, anyway.

  “You guys should pose in front of the windows with the mountains in the background,” Bianca suggested. “These views are amazing.”

  “Aren’t they?” Ana sighed. “It’s so beautiful out here. Maybe someday when Luke becomes an executive at Boeing, we can build our own sprawling mountain retreat.”

  Scarlett chuckled. “Viggo recently floated the idea of leasing out his penthouse and moving out here after we get married.”

  “Oh! That would be awesome!” Nadia said, clapping excitedly. “We could be neighbors!”

  “That’s what Viggo said. He really likes the idea of living close to his best friend and having our kids grow up together, which they’re going to do whether we’re neighbors or not. Don’t get me wrong,” Scarlett hastened to add when Nadia pouted. “I would love to live closer to you and Reid. As much as we hang out together, it would make things easier if we were neighbors. And it is absolutely breathtaking up here in the mountains.”

  “But?” Nadia prompted.

  Scarlett sighed. “But I would miss living downtown. The hustle and bustle. Being right in the heart of everything. You know I’m a city girl.”

  “You lived in the suburbs with your parents before you started dating Viggo,” Ana reminded her.

  “True.” Scarlett grinned sheepishly. “I’m not ruling out the idea of moving. But I might need a little more convincing.”

  “I accept the challenge,” Nadia said with gleeful determination, rubbing her hands together. “Viggo, Reid and I are gonna wear you down.”

  Scarlett groaned. “Three against one? So unfair!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “How long is your commute to work?” Ana asked Nadia.

  “About half an hour. I’m actually closer to the college than I was when I lived downtown, so it worked out great.” Nadia grinned. “By the way, we’re getting a puppy after the wedding. Hopefully that will tide Reid over until we start having kids.”

  Ana snickered. “Don’t count on it. A dog is no substitute for a son he can show off and teach to play hockey.”

  “I know.” Nadia sighed, making everyone laugh.

  Scarlett climbed out of her recliner. “Let’s take this selfie for Jenna so I can get back to my pregame show.”

  She and the others headed over to the windows and struck playful poses, showing off the front and back of their denim jackets. Each was personalized with their man’s last name, jersey number and a uniquely symbolic image.

  “Let’s see…” Ana went down the row, pointing to each design. “For Reid we have a lipstick-marked rocket blasting above Motown Records—nice homage to Detroit. For Viggo we have cinnamon buns, microphones and drums raining down on Stockholm—too adorable. For Logan we have a pair of boxing gloves hugging the planet Jupiter—aww!” she cooed and giggled before continuing. “And for Dubinski we have combat boots, dog tags and…handcuffs?”

  “His dad is an army veteran.” Jess sent a naughty wink over her shoulder. “I’ll let you guess what the handcuffs represent.”

  Everyone burst out laughing.

  Nadia texted their pictures to Jenna while the others wandered over to the wraparound wet bar, helping themselves to more food and drinks. Reid’s housekeeper had prepared quite a spread for them.

  Ana sidled up to Meadow and grinned. “Congratulations on getting your man. I’m really happy for you guys.”

  Meadow smiled shyly. “Thank you, Ana.”

  Jess cackled. “I’m just glad you guys finally did the deed. All that sexual tension and longing was making me frustrated. I can only imagine how hard it was for Logan.” She grinned. “Pun definitely intended.”

  As the others giggled lecherously, Meadow and Nadia shared a quiet smile. Nadia was the only one she’d told about Logan’s meltdown following his father’s visit. Though she hadn’t divulged all of his dark secrets, Nadia understood that they still had a tough road ahead of them. Nothing could be taken for granted.

  Ana sighed dramatically. “Of course I’m disappointed that Logan won’t be marrying into my family. But after seeing the pictures of you guys together, it’s pretty clear you’re meant for each other. Not even my sister could deny it. Well, she did at first,” Ana admitted, smiling ruefully at Meadow. “But she knows true love when she sees it. That said, it might be best if you and Logan skip my wedding.”

  “Damn, chica!” Scarlett exclaimed. “That’s cold!”

  Jess laughed. “Seriously!”

  Ana heaved a sigh. “I love my sister dearly, but she can be a brat when she doesn’t get her way. She threw a tantrum at my quinceañera because I was the one getting all the attention and she couldn’t stand it. I don’t want her causing a scene at my wedding just because her crush shows up with a date.”

  Meadow didn’t know what to say. “Um…okay.”

  Ana grinned. “I’m just kidding. Well, not the part about my sister. That part was true. But you and Logan can come to my wedding—”

  “To be confronted by a salty ass bridesmaid?” Scarlett snorted. “Hard pass!”

  As everyone laughed and returned to their seats, Jess said excitedly, “I can’t wait to see Logan’s Under Armour commercial to kick off the playoffs. The bunnies have been buzzing about it on Twitter ever since the company released a still shot of Logan looking naked.”

  This drew lascivious giggles and grins.

  Meadow shook her head. “He’s not naked. He’s wearing shorts.”

  Ana snickered. “Tell that to the hordes of women who’ve been liking the picture and creating memes. Even celebrities have been retweeting it.”

  “I know, right?” Bianca grinned at Meadow. “I heard the commercial is almost two minutes long, practically a music video. Has Logan told you anything about it?”

  “No. And I haven’t asked.” Meadow sent a warning glare around the room. “Please refrain from any and all lewd commentary about my boyfriend.”

  The girls laughed at her.

  “Sorry, chica, but no haps,” Ana teased unsympathetically
. “You’re dating a popular sex symbol, so you’re gonna have to get used to women lusting after him. Including your friends.”

  The others broke out into laughter.

  Meadow found herself both dreading and anticipating the commercial. When it premiered during the pregame show, she was perched on the edge of her seat just like everyone else.

  The opening shot showed Logan framed in silhouette against the ropes of a boxing ring, the background bathed in fog. His powerful chest was bare and he was wearing black boxing shorts that sat low enough on his hips to reveal the deep grooves of his V muscle, drawing lustful sighs around the room.

  “Are you ready?” a spine-tingling whisper floated up out of the darkness.

  The haunting violin strings of the Raging Bull theme song could be heard playing in the background. As Logan began shadowboxing in the ring, the camera slowly panned up over his shuffling feet, his muscular calves, his round ass, the rippling muscles of his huge shoulders and tattooed biceps. When pulses were racing and panties were soaked, the camera zoomed in on a single bead of sweat trickling down the deep ridges of his ripped abs.

  Breathy squeals broke out across the room.

  Just before the glistening droplet of sweat disappeared below Logan’s waistband, his massive gloved fist came barreling straight toward the camera. Snapped out of their lust-induced trance, the girls gasped and instinctively ducked as his fist connected with the jaw of an opponent. Blood and spit flew, splashing the camera lens.

  In the blink of an eye, the boxing ring became a noisy ice rink. The giant television screen exploded with images of Logan brawling during hockey games, throwing haymakers with ruthless precision. The camera shook from the impact of each punishing blow.

  Before viewers could catch their breath from the display of brutal male aggression, the commercial cut to a wide shot of Logan partying with friends at a nightclub. He looked amazeballs in a slick gray designer suit with a white shirt open at the neck. He was moving through the crowd, nodding to the beat of a bachata song as a beautiful mocha woman shimmied up to him. He smiled and started dancing with her, winding his hips and hypnotizing the audience with his wickedly sensual moves.