I Pucking Love You

by Pippa Grant

“Yeah. I watched some YouTube when I was bored after class while Steve was working, and I figured it out.”

  Now we’re both gaping at her. “That’s freaking amazing,” I sputter.

  She shrugs. “My grandpa tried to teach me how to make all my own clothes when I was growing up since the usual stuff didn’t fit, so I already knew how to use a sewing machine. I never liked to before because it reminded me that I wasn’t a size two.”

  “I love that your grandpa taught you,” Maren says with a smile.

  “Our family’s been bucking trends since 1842.”

  When everyone else arrives, I pass out the tickets and we head inside.

  Yes, Tyler got them for me.

  I’m still sorting out the credit card issue. Namely, how I’m going to pay it all off on top of my student loans.

  It’s a really good thing I actually made a couple matches and have Cod Pieces for backup.

  We get to our seats right as the Thrusters take the ice for warm-ups, and I get a serious thrill when I spot number ninety-one doing his usual half-lap sprint before snagging a puck with his stick and sending it flying into the empty net.

  Phoebe, who’s never been to a hockey game, leans around Maren, hands me her binoculars, and points. “Tell me why forty-two and eighty-two are humping the ice, and are either of them single? Please tell me they’re single.”

  “Nick Murphy and Connor Klein. Goaltenders. They’re stretching since they’ll be diving all over the net blocking pucks, and they have to move fast. Nick’s married to my cousin. Connor’s single and loving it.”

  “Your cousin sleeps with a guy who can do the splits?”

  Maren, who’s one of Kami’s best friends, makes a gagging sound. I crack up.

  “It only looks like that because he has such big pads on,” Maren says. “In real life, I have never once seen Nick Murphy do the splits.” She sighs. “But he can get closer than I can.”

  “I’ve seen him open a jar of peanut butter,” I offer.

  “Ooooh,” everyone says, and then we’re all cracking up again.

  I use Phoebe’s binoculars to look closer at Tyler. The guys are in two lines now, moving fast as they go through a passing drill that ends with one of them shooting a puck at Connor, who’s in the net now.

  Tyler scores, turns, and I swear he looks right at me and grins.

  Be still my heart. That’s even better than the time he tossed me a puck when I was sitting with Kami right on the ice when she and Nick were quasi-dating.

  I used to love coming to the games for the thrill of supporting my local team.

  Now, I can’t wait for this game to be over so I can kiss him.

  His attention shifts back to warm-ups, turning to coast to the end of the other line, and I sink back in my chair with a blissful smile spread over my face.

  Maren pokes me. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I have it bad,” I agree.

  “Is he serious about you?”

  “He’s not kicking me out.”

  “But is he serious about you?”

  I know what she’s asking, and I know why. Kami had a friends-with-benefits relationship with Nick for months before she realized it wasn’t going anywhere and dumped him. Not to say that all hockey players just like sex however they can get it, but let’s be real.

  The sex is definitely one of the highlights of living with Tyler.

  And while Kami dumping Nick finally opened his eyes to what he had, I don’t feel like Tyler takes me for granted the same way.

  “I met his family. He moved me into his place and brought my cat. We’ve all heard the rumors about him hooking up with a random bunny or someone he met somewhere else, right? And he’s sworn up and down almost as long as I’ve known him that he’s never getting married. But then he tells me he misses me when he’s out of town and he cooks me breakfast and he stops by Cod Pieces when I have a random shift, and it’s like—”

  “You’re working at Cod Pieces?”

  I open my mouth, then shut it.

  “Muffy. Are things—” She glances at the rest of the group, leans closer, and lowers her voice. “Are things that bad?”

  “No! No. I’m filling in some shifts as a favor for someone. And things are getting better at Muff Matchers. I’m screening the men better than I did last year, and the support group is going so well, and I’m on the verge. I’m seriously right on the cusp of making this work-work.”

  Maren’s brows are bunched together. She knows as well as I do how badly my screening efforts failed last year, when I was letting random men sign up on my website.

  I accidentally set Kami up with one of their other friends’ horrible ex-boyfriends.

  With the number of dating disasters my services have sparked, it truly is a miracle that I still have any clients at all.

  “If you need help, call me. Understand?” Maren says.

  “I’ve got this. I do. I’m not bailing on this the way I—the way I bailed on med school.”

  “I have a spare bedroom and I don’t mind cats, okay?”

  “Thank you, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”

  I start to smile.

  She meets my eyes, and she laughs. “You really do have it bad.”

  Can’t argue with that.

  I really, really do.

  But Tyler does too. He might not say it, but he’s showing me that he does.

  I stare at him down there on the ice, see him glance at the other side of the rink, where Cranford is glowering at him from the boards.

  My stomach drops.

  If Tyler gets hurt—

  “Cranford won’t touch him, Muffy,” Maren says. “He got a twenty-game suspension after the last time he went after Jaeger. If he does it again, they’ll boot him from the league, and he might have sponges for brains, and you know he’ll push it as far as he can, but Tyler’s safe.”

  “He’s a hockey player. I don’t think safe is quite the right word.”

  She smiles. “He’s as safe as he can be flying across the ice and chasing a rubber puck while five other guys try to slam him into the boards. Better?”

  Mostly.

  But I still don’t like it. Anyone willing to hold a grudge for this many years isn’t someone I trust with my boyfriend.

  “You want me to rough up one of the Indies after the game, let me know,” Brianna says.

  “I’ll be there with my phone taking video,” Maren adds.

  “Are we supposed to cheer if they fight?” Phoebe asks.

  “Yes,” Maren says.

  “No,” I say at the same time.

  “I mean, so long as it’s the other team losing teeth,” she amends.

  I settle deeper into my seat and blow out a slow breath as the clock winds down on warm-up time.

  The roughness is part of the game. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  Especially with Tyler’s sworn enemy out there on the ice with him.

  40

  Tyler

  The only thing better than winning a game is having Muffy leap into my arms the minute I walk through the door of Chester Green’s Sports Bar afterwards.

  Except we lost a hard-fought game on a fucking technicality, I’m sporting a black eye courtesy of one of the Indies’ left wings, who told me Cranford says hi, and I’m more in a mood to punch something than I am to hang out in the middle of a bar where Thrusters fans should be celebrating, but instead just eyeball those of us on the team walking in the door to join the subdued party of our friends and family who are taking up half the space.

  And to top it all off, Muffy’s mother is here.

  “At least she’s not Cranford,” Lavoie mutters to me.

  The Indies are starting a seven-day road trip, which means they’re staying in Copper Valley tonight before heading to their next stop tomorrow.

  I don’t actually trust that Cranford won’t show up here.

  “Should’ve gone to the bunny bar,” I mutter back.


  Except even if my whole family could fit in the bunny bar, kids aren’t allowed, and I’ve already spotted two little ones in the crowd waiting for us.

  Muffy leaps up from her spot as we make eye contact, a million questions racing over her face. “Hey. You okay?”

  “Had worse.”

  She looks stressed, and I don’t know if it’s the hard game, or if it’s her mother talking to my sisters. She goes up on her toes, kisses my cheek on the side of my face that’s not swelling, drops back to her heels, and tugs me toward the open seat beside her chair, calling greetings to my teammates as she drags me down the table.

  “Hey, Connor. Great game. You totally got robbed. Nice goal, Duncan. Nick. You’re okay, I guess.”

  It’s so normal, my bad mood starts to lift. I squeeze her hand, and she smiles at me, which makes my heart lighten too.

  Daisy’s talking to the server. West’s cuddling Remy, who’s passed out cold. My sisters are all chattering away, most of their kids back at hotels with babysitters.

  My teammates’ wives and girlfriends are waiting too. Kami greets Nick with a kiss, then passes him their baby. Felicity and Gracie pull away from chatting with my mom to greet Ares and Manning. Klein’s sidetracked at the bar with Athena and Cassadee, who must’ve heard we weren’t hitting the bunny bar tonight. Rooster hasn’t made it past the entrance. He’s signing autographs and teasing the crowd with the stuffed Thrusty he pulled out of his cowboy hat.

  I swear the dude either has stock in the toy company that makes those, or he’s getting a kickback from the team for promoting them.

  Dad stands and thumps me on the back. “Great game, kiddo. Tough loss, but you played hard.”

  “Way to not get a concussion this time,” Oscar, one of my brothers-in-law, calls.

  I give him a thumbs-up while Mom smothers me in a hug. “Thank god for that sweet Applebottom boy. He was even more effective than that giant Berger boy who tried to be your bodyguard last year. Where is he, anyway?”

  “Rooster?”

  “No, the other Berger boy.”

  “I’m retired, ma’am, but I’d still kick your ass in mechanical unicorn bull-riding.”

  Shrieks go up all around the room as Zeus Berger strides out of the bathroom hallway, pulls out a chair, sits, and then promptly crashes to the ground as it collapses beneath him.

  Ares sighs and shakes his head. “Lazy ass.”

  “Damn, it feels good to be back here,” Zeus says from the floor.

  He’s so tall he could still eat off the table with his ass down there.

  Actually, he’s so tall, he’s almost as tall sitting as his wife is standing. But don’t think Joey Diamonte-Berger is anything other than a badass. Even if she looks mildly green around the edges.

  The wives and girlfriends converge on Joey, hugging and asking how she’s feeling.

  “Pregnant,” I whisper to Muffy.

  She sighs and looks at Maren. “You win. Can I pay you in Rufus love?”

  “No, but I’d totally take you talking Brianna into making me one of those Thrusty hats.”

  “You bet Joey’d get pregnant?” I ask as I follow her gaze to where one of the women I vaguely recognize from Muffy’s support group meeting is hugging a guy who’s walked into the bar.

  “Within six months of Zeus retiring,” Maren confirms.

  “Bet Muffy could get pregnant faster,” Hilda announces. “Plus, she’s got great birthing hips.”

  Staci and Brit both choke on their beers.

  Muffy sighs. “I can also squat two hundred pounds, which will come in very handy when I toss you out a window,” she mutters.

  “Two hundred? That’s badass.” I bump her fist.

  “I was playing in your weight room the other day.”

  “Can I watch next time?”

  She slides me a smile that makes my cock twitch. “Would that turn you on?”

  “It’s already turning me on.”

  Her smile grows as she coyly pushes her hair back over her shoulder, and I suddenly don’t care that we lost, or that that Indie asshole took a cheap shot at me, or even that Hilda’s being Hilda.

  “Who is that fine piece of meat?” she asks.

  Muffy winces, glances back at where her mother’s staring as Maren answers, “Oh, that must be Brianna’s boyfriend,” and suddenly, my girlfriend goes pale as a ghost.

  “Muffy?”

  “Rufus!” she exclaims. “I forgot to feed Rufus. That means he’ll probably try to eat your shoelaces. I need to go. Feed him. I need to feed him. You stay. Have fun. Visit with Zeus and your family. Say hi to everyone for me.”

  “You—” I start, but I silence myself when she crawls under the table, duck-walks to the back hallway, and disappears toward the bathroom.

  I look at Maren. “What the hell?”

  She looks as confused as I am. “I have no idea.”

  Screw this.

  I head toward the hallway to the bathrooms. “Muffy.”

  She pauses with one foot in the kitchen entrance beyond the ladies’ room. “I have a rule to not be around clients and the matches I set them up with. It gets weird, like maybe they’re putting on a show for me and they aren’t actually as happy as they tell me they are? I don’t know. I just…I can’t be around clients and their matches. It’s a thing.”

  “So you’re sneaking out through the kitchen?”

  “Hi, I’m Muffy. Have we met?”

  Okay, that was funny. “Hold on. I’ll come with you.”

  “No, really. You haven’t gotten to see your family at all. Stay. Have fun. I’ll be at home. Naked. In bed. Whenever. Do not walk anywhere by yourself tonight, understand?” She blows me a kiss and disappears into the kitchen, both like she’s done this a thousand times before, and also like she has no idea that the words naked and in bed in reference to herself have left me with another boner that won’t go away until she’s helped me do something about it.

  “That was weird,” Maren says behind me. “Even for Muffy.”

  I shove my hands in my pockets to try to lessen the pressure on my woody and also to hopefully make it less visible as I turn to glance at her. “Something weird happen during the game?”

  She grins. “She cheered for you every time you so much as set foot on the ice. That was weird.”

  “You’re not putting that in your blog, are you?” We all pretend she’s not getting the dirt for her Thrusters-obsessed sports blog, but we all also know nearly anything is fair game when Maren’s around. She’s usually respectful about stuff that’s too personal, but we still know to watch ourselves.

  “Um, duh. Yeah. I’m absolutely putting that in my blog. You’re about to be outed as having a girlfriend, Jaeger. If you don’t like it, you better tell Muffy you’re just messing around with her. You know how much I like it when guys take advantage of my friends.”

  Considering how much joy she took in Murphy’s game being in the crapper last year when he fucked up with Kami, I don’t have to ask what she’d do to me.

  I’m not the golden child here in Copper Valley that the town’s homegrown star goaltender is.

  You’d think a blog wouldn’t have a lot of pull with the coaches, but it doesn’t have to.

  All it has to do is get in my head.

  Two months ago I would’ve said it was an empty threat.

  But my palms are getting itchy and there’s an unfamiliar discomfort settling into my chest. “I’m not taking advantage of Muffy.”

  “She’s not as tough as she pretends to be.”

  “I know.”

  “Kami and Felicity and Alina and I are all way more protective of her than she realizes.”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t underestimate what her client base will do for her, even when she’s hiding from seeing them with their matches. Which, yes, is weird.”

  I shouldn’t be smiling. I know when I’m being threatened. But I also know Maren’s one hundred percent right.

  Muffy’s w
ay more loved than she knows.

  “Don’t underestimate what I’ll do for her,” I tell Maren.

  Then I head down the hall to the kitchen, texting West on the way. Muffy’s tired. Long day. See you at brunch.

  He replies with an eye roll emoji followed by a fist bump emoji.

  West-speak for I know you’re going to get laid, and I don’t blame you.

  Hockey, the bunny bar, and Chester Green’s are my three favorite things in Copper Valley.

  At least, they used to be.

  Miss a night hanging with my teammates and hockey fans?

  The old Tyler wouldn’t have considered it.

  This new Tyler?

  He has something more important to do.

  41

  Muffy

  That was close.

  If Brianna had introduced me to Steve, and he remembered me, I would’ve been caught.

  He knows about Muff Matchers. Kind of. When I told him I thought he should meet a friend, I also told him I worked part-time for a small private matchmaking company that doesn’t do much advertising and that my role was supposed to only be administrative work. It’s highly likely that my clients will call Muff Matchers out by name at some point if their relationships keep developing, and I’m hoping that by then, no one will care how I found the guys or how I presented myself.

  The ends justify the means, right?

  I’m probably delusional.

  Plus, I don’t want to know what Tyler will do if he finds out I’m using dating apps to meet and screen guys.

  Not gonna lie.

  I feel like I’m cheating on him every time I open an app and ask guys for dates, even though it’s strictly professional on my end.

  But since they don’t know that, it’s complicated.

  And the more matches I make this way, the more likely I am to get caught.

  But it’s working.

  So is it really wrong?

  “Muffy.”

  I leap sixteen feet in the air when Tyler says my name behind me. Mist and fog are invading the city, and I thought he listened when I told him to stay and have fun with his teammates and family—you know, where he’s safe if the Indies decided to go out and try to start something off the ice—instead of following me out, down a dark alley, and back onto the street toward his building. “Ohmygod.”