The Rule Maker (Boston Hawks Hockey #4)

by Gina Azzi

  With hopes and wishes and dreams she thinks she may never have.

  The realization—of the life Chloe wants, of the future she desires—descends on me like a curtain. Slowly, gradually, but by the time Sara clasps hands with her groom, Mark, I know it in my bones.

  Chloe Crawford is the woman you marry, the one you straight up wifey and never put second.

  I don’t know if I’m the man who can ever measure up to that role.

  But I want to be.

  15

  Chloe

  Between the ceremony and reception, something changes.

  I’m not sure exactly when it happens but when Austin grasps my hand to lead me into the Grand Ballroom, his touch is more certain, his eyes less guarded. He smiles at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on—more beautiful than witnessing life coming into the world—and a reassurance I didn’t realize I wanted wraps around me.

  I smile back and together, as a real couple, we enter my cousin’s wedding reception. Gold and white, silk and lace, flowers, high vaulted ceilings, and unbelievable splendor, greets us.

  “I feel like we just stepped back in time,” I admit to Austin.

  “You’re the belle of the ball,” he jokes, plucking up the name card with our table seating.

  Mr. Austin Merrick and Ms. Chloe Crawford, Table 5

  I like how our names look in the bold strokes of the calligraphy. I like how they look next to each other too, like Austin and I are a unit. I lead him to Table 5 where Mimi and Drew are already seated, champagne in hand.

  “Not wasting any time, are you?” I lift an eyebrow at my brother.

  “Not when they’re serving Dom Perignon,” Mimi responds quietly.

  Austin and Drew bark out their laughter and I fight mine as I sit down next to my grandmother.

  “Sara looks mesmerizing, doesn’t she?” Mimi asks, her eyes bright. “Like an angel.”

  “She does. She’s beautiful. Happy,” I agree, realizing just how much tonight means to Mimi. After living a very full life with Pop, raising her children and greeting grandchildren as they entered the world, she truly enjoys celebrating our milestones with all the pomp and circumstance. Sometimes, I think she’s extra but right now, dressed to the nines in a lavender gown, a champagne flute dangling from her fingers, I realize what an exciting, truly happy life my mimi has lived.

  Sentimentality washes over me and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, tugging her into my side and kissing her temple. “Love you, Mim.”

  “Me more, dear girl.” Her gaze darts to Austin. “And I think he might too.”

  I snort, shaking my head. Leave it to Mimi to fill my head with my own wishful thinking.

  I chance a look at my handsome date, still hanging by Drew’s side talking, and my throat dries. God, he’s perfect. Blue eyes deeper than the ocean, cheekbones that could cut glass, and a steel jawline. He has the tiniest dimple in his chin that my brother used to tease him about when we were younger. His hair is styled, pushed away from his face in a way that should look severe but suits him well. He catches me staring and a slow grin moves across his lips. Tenderness sweeps his expression and he stares at me like, like I’m his.

  Next to me, Mimi fans herself and passes me her flute.

  I take it wordlessly and drink it as Austin chuckles.

  “That’s how a man should look at you, Chloe,” Mimi murmurs.

  I nod, realizing she’s right. Steve never looked at me like that, not once in five years. Suddenly, I don’t even care. Because when Austin looks at me, I feel beautiful, cherished, confident again. I realize everyone was right; I dodged a bullet. Not marrying Steve was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Because it brought me back to Austin.

  It brought me home.

  The wedding reception kicks off with a bang. Sara and Mark have impeccable taste and it shows in all the details of their wedding. But they also have a great love for fun and adventure. Within thirty minutes of their entrance and first dance, the music is bumping and the drinks are flowing.

  My family has barely left the dance floor and I don’t remember the last time I smiled so hard for so long. Before dinner is served, Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” comes on and Austin slips an arm around my waist, turning me away from my cousins and into his chest.

  I hear one of my cousins sigh as Austin’s arms wrap around my frame.

  “What is it with you and Ed?” I ask, tilting my head up.

  “His music is sincere,” he answers honestly, holding me in his arms as we begin to dance. “I like that he writes a lot of the lyrics too.”

  My cheeks ache from smiling so big but I can’t help it. “I never would have thought that big, tough, Hawks Captain Merrick could be so sentimental.”

  Austin lifts an eyebrow. “Really?”

  I laugh. “I mean, knowing you have two sisters, maybe.”

  He spins me before guiding me back to his chest. He holds my wrist against the pocket of his suit jacket, his other arm still wrapped around my waist.

  “But, I don’t know, Savannah told me you only date models and these badass CEO women.” I shrug, feeling a blush spread up my neck and over my face. “I didn’t think you’d be into slow songs and wedding dances.”

  Austin’s gaze flickers over my face for a long moment. “Well I am, with the right woman.”

  “The right woman?”

  He nods. “I hate that Steve managed to fill your head with so much doubt. The Chloe I remember didn’t care what anyone thought. She knew how wonderful she was, she knew how much she offered, she knew how much her friends adored and respected her…” He spins me again, his smile lopsided when I face him. “I remember the day you decided you wanted to join the debate team and the advisor told you there weren’t any spots left.”

  I cringe, the memory of his story bubbling up in my mind. But a moment later, I flash him a smile.

  “You told him that you’d debate the entire team and if you didn’t win against each opponent, you’d walk away. But if you did, then he needed to add a spot for you on the team. Everyone tried to talk you out of it.”

  “Except Mimi.”

  “Except Mimi,” Austin agrees. “We all thought you were going to get your ass handed to you but you didn’t care. You said you were going to be the first freshman to make the team.”

  “And I was,” I say saucily.

  Austin chuckles. “And you were. You’re the type of woman who doesn’t back down from a challenge, Chlo. You make things happen; you create change. You’re the kind of woman who can make a man do all the things he thought he never would. You always have been, but you need to believe in that girl again too.”

  My breath lodges in my throat at the truth in his words, at the depth of feelings in his eyes. I stop swaying, standing still in the center of the dance floor, and stare at the same blue eyes I’ve been losing myself in for years. “Do you really think I could be that woman again?”

  “Not again.” He shakes his head and my stomach sinks. “You’re still her, Chlo.” He dips his head and brushes his lips over mine. It’s our second kiss and it couldn’t get any more public than this moment.

  Outing us to my entire family, I kiss him back with an intensity I’ve never felt before. My hands find the tops of his shoulders and even though I’m rocking some sexy heels, I push up onto my tippy toes for leverage.

  Austin’s arm around my waist tightens and the hand clasping mine releases it so he can cup my cheek. He tilts my face and deepens our kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth. He kisses me passionately for one, two, three seconds before he pulls back and grins.

  Ed’s voice fades as the next song picks up but I don’t even register the melody.

  “Just be you,” Austin says. “You’re already perfect.” He takes my hand and leads me back to Table 5.

  And I want to swoon. Because who thought this guy, the same one who pantsed me as an awkward adolescent, could be so damn sweet?

  As we move through
the tables, I receive confirmation of Austin’s swoon-worthiness in the expressions of guests I pass. The knowing glances and open shock on the faces of my aunts and cousins cause my blush to deepen. But Austin walks with his spine straight, his head held high, and after a second, I emulate him. Why shouldn’t I be kissed in the center of a dance floor by the man I’m now dating? Why shouldn’t I revel in it?

  I giggle to myself, accepting another glass of champagne from my mom.

  “That was some kiss,” she whispers, her tone laced with humor.

  “Austin’s some man,” I answer.

  “Amen to that,” Mimi does the Sign of the Cross and we all burst out laughing.

  Dinner passes with easy conversation. Dad, Drew, and Austin talk hockey. Mom, Mimi, and I discuss our summer plans, with me reminding them that Abbi will be visiting soon for Marissa’s bachelorette and staying with us. The other guest at our table, my great aunt Millie, fills us in on family gossip during the lulls in conversation that have us all gasping in shock or rolling with laughter. Needless to say, Table 5 is where it’s at and I imagine the rest of the wedding guests are jealous they aren’t sitting with the Crawfords.

  After dinner, dancing resumes. As does drinking.

  “Shots! Cousin shots!” Drew demands, circling his finger in the air to round up all the cousins and our dates. He picks Sara up, her laughter loud, and carries her over to the bar, plopping her down on top of it.

  Mark, already accustomed to our family insanity, having dated Sara for years, trails behind, grinning.

  The bartender fills sixteen shot glasses with—

  “Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey!” my cousin Marie cries out. “I hate you, Drew.”

  Drew blows her a kiss and passes her a shot glass. “Come on guys, I never get to come home and see you all.”

  “True.” My cousin Calvin, the most reserved of all the cousins, taps Drew on the back. “But not all of us are military men, able to hold our liquor, like you.”

  “Fair enough.” Drew grins, placing a shot glass in Calvin’s hands. “But you’re still drinking that, Cal.”

  Marie and Sara cheer. Mark steps up to the bar and plants an arm around Sara to keep her steady. Austin shadows my back, his hand on my hip. I lean back against his strong chest, liking the feel of him against my back, of his strength supporting me.

  Austin points at Drew. “If we do one—”

  “We do two,” my brother agrees, and I’m reminded of some old, teenage thing they used to do with shotgunning beers in Mom and Dad’s garage.

  Austin asks the bartender to line up another row of shots.

  Calvin groans and Sara claps her hands.

  “To Sara and Mark.” My brother raises his shot glass and we all follow. “May you find all the love, happiness, and adventure you’re searching for.”

  We all echo Drew, lift our shooters, and toss them back. The Fireball blazes a path of heat down my throat, hitting my stomach like a punch before fanning out and warming my limbs.

  I smack my lips together, shooting a look at Austin. “I’ve drunk more since reconnecting with you than I have in the past two years.”

  He grins, his lips passing over the shell of my ear as he whispers, “I’ll take your second shot if you’re not up for it.”

  I shake my head, even though I appreciate the offer. “No way. I’m just letting you know, you may need to carry me up to our room later. Put me to bed.”

  Austin’s eyes gleam and a cheeky smile curves his lips.

  I snort and smack the back of my hand against his stomach. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

  “You put it there,” he accuses.

  Marie hands us shot glasses, glancing between us. “You guys are cute together.”

  “Thanks, Marie,” Austin responds.

  “Okay.” Drew raises his second shot glass. “Now, can we just take a second to applaud the man who brought Boston back from the brink with a Stanley Cup win!” he shouts, lifting his glass in the air and pointing at Austin.

  Austin groans next to me, dipping his head in embarrassment. I shoot Drew a look but the grin on my brother’s face says he knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to put Austin on the spot the way he did all throughout our childhood.

  Austin takes the cheers and applause in stride, thanking everyone while flipping Drew the middle finger to even more laughter. We all take our next shot.

  Drew places his shot glass on the bar. “Come on, man. You’re dating my sister. I need to mess with you a little.”

  “I know, I know,” Austin agrees.

  “We love you, Aus.” Sara claps.

  “Just wait ’til he sings us a song later,” Drew announces.

  Austin’s and my heads swivel toward Drew.

  My brother chuckles, amusement in his gaze. “Oh yeah. Claire told me all about your drinking game last month. She promised that you can give Easton a run for his money. I never knew you had a thing for Madonna, Aus.”

  I tip my head back and laugh. A few hours later, as the wedding winds down, Austin entertains my cousins and some of the straggling guests with a rendition of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin.” He goes all in, with dance moves and sexy hip gyrating. Drew jumps in as back up and even Cal, definitely feeling his alcohol, lends his lack of talents to the performance.

  Mimi’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. Pure delight shines in her eyes as she claps along, checking several times that Mom is recording it all on her phone.

  But I can’t tear my gaze away from Austin. He makes me feel all the things I always desired: whole, cherished, beautiful, and happy. He makes me laugh and centers me. He listens and embraces my wild family and all their antics.

  And when he carries me over the threshold of our hotel room, he makes my body tighten with unrivaled anticipation.

  16

  Austin

  With pink cheeks, parted lips, and dark eyes, Chloe Crawford unmans me. I’ve never been so desperate to be inside of a woman as I am Chloe.

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” I murmur, my fingers fumbling with the clasp on her shoes. After two attempts, I snort. “A little help?”

  She grins and quickly removes her shoes.

  “How drunk are you?” I ask her.

  “Sober enough to want every single thing we’re about to do and tipsy enough to not be embarrassed admitting it to you.”

  I nearly groan at the confidence in her voice. Damn, I’ve missed it. Somehow, I’ve missed her without even knowing it. “Don’t ever be embarrassed to tell me anything. Especially what you want right now.” I run my fingers over the soft skin of her arm before finding the small zipper hidden in the seam running down the side of her body. I drag it down slowly.

  Chloe shimmies out of the straps of her dress, a deep purple that looks mesmerizing on her, and lets the material rush down her body and pool at her feet. She kicks the dress to the side and stands before me in a black strapless bra and black lace panties that hide nothing but conceal enough to be sexier than if she was naked.

  My mouth dries and I force myself to meet her eyes.

  “Like what you see?” she asks, a hint of nerves in her eyes even though her voice is composed.

  “Love everything about you,” I answer truthfully, popping the bottom on my suit pants. In a handful of seconds, I’m standing before her in nothing but my boxers.

  Chloe bites her bottom lip and raises an eyebrow. “Are those Spanx?”

  I snort, making a strangled sound of laughter and impatience. “They have a men’s line and they’re comfortable. Are you going to give me shit about everything?”

  She tips her head back and laughs, the sound rich and sincere.

  “Get over here.” I hook my fingers under the side band of her panties and drag her toward me. “You’re trouble, Chloe Crawford.”

  “Funny.” Her eyes flare. “That’s what they used to say about you.”

  I capture her lips in one long kiss. “Now what do they say?”

 
“That you’re a rule follower. A rule maker.”

  I nod, noting the truth in her words. “But I’m about to break them all tonight.”

  Her brow furrows, confusion swirling in her eyes. Not giving her a chance to ask any questions, I walk her backwards toward the bed until she sits down on the edge of the mattress. My body presses into hers as I kiss her slowly, soulfully, until she relaxes enough to lie back. I waste no time crawling up her frame, my fingers tracing every curve, my mouth fused with hers.

  I kiss Chloe like I’ll never get enough. In a handful of seconds, I realize I won’t. Her eyes flutter closed as I drag the backs of my knuckles up her cheekbone. She tastes like cinnamon and desire. She smells like violets and vanilla. And she feels like the first day of spring, full of possibility and wonder.

  I deepen our kiss, enjoying her soft mewls and elevated breathing. Her hands track my back, running over my shoulder blades and up the side of my body. I kiss my way down the column of her neck, loving how she arches into me. Pulling down the cups of her bra, I drag my lips across her chest, pulling one pert nipple into my mouth and sucking its sweetness.

  “Oh!” Chloe gasps, her fingers threading through my hair and hugging my face to her chest. Her legs encircle my waist, pulling me closer.

  I’m so hard, so desperate for her, that I groan when my dick presses against her core. She moans from the contact, the sound encouraging me to travel south, until I pull her panties to the side and drag my tongue up her center.

  “Austin,” she moans. “Austin.”

  “Shh.” I nibble the inside of her thigh. “I got you, baby.” I drag two fingers through her center, spreading her arousal around her clit. At my light touch, she bucks against my hand and I recall our conversation from the beach in Martha’s Vineyard.

  About how Steve didn’t pleasure her the way she deserves. About how he never made her body quake and quiver with want and need and delicious relief. How the hell didn’t he do that when she’s this responsive, this beautiful, this fucking perfect?