Pucks & Penalties: Pucked Series Deleted Scenes and Outtakes Version 2.0 (The Pucked Series)

by Helena Hunting

  She scratches her arm and the back of her neck, another bad sign. Violet gets stress hives, and the last thing I want is my wife covered in itchy, angry red welts. “It’s not the party planning I’m worried about.”

  I come around the island and run my hands down her arms, but she brushes me off, stalks over to the fridge, and yanks open the freezer door. “Baby, come on. What are you worried about?”

  Despite her issues with dairy, she pulls out a tub of ice cream. “What am I worried about?”

  “Okay, this is the third time you’ve repeated my words back to me like I’m an idiot. Can you just tell me what the problem is so I can fix it?”

  Violet throws her hands in the air. “I’m the problem!”

  I put on my what are you talking about face, because I have a feeling I know exactly what the issue is and that maybe Miller was right. “What’d you mean?”

  She yanks open the drawer and pulls out a spoon and waves it around in a slightly manic way. “Uh, do you remember what happened the last time you threw a party here? Because I sure do. Sort of. Thanks to the videos Charlene took, I have actual evidence of how ridiculously out of hand things got.”

  “Baby, you didn’t know the watermelon was spiked.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I sang ‘I Like Big Dicks’ at the top of my lungs or that I tried to twerk.”

  It was probably one of the funniest things I’ve seen her attempt. Violet is incredibly smart and flexible thanks to all the yoga she does with my sister, but she is not very coordinated outside of the bedroom. Not that I’d ever tell her that. “You were adorable.”

  “I was an asshole.” She peels the cover off the ice cream. “Look.” She motions to the tub as she digs her spoon in. “You’re forcing me to seek solace in ice cream just by talking about this.” She shoves the entire huge spoonful into her mouth, possibly to make a point.

  I run a soothing hand down her arm. “I don’t want to stress you out. I can talk to Lance or Randy, and see if they wouldn’t mind hosting instead.”

  Violet makes a cringy face and rushes to the sink. She spits out the mouthful of ice cream and turns the water on, rubbing her temples. “Dammit, I have brain freeze from that.” She drops the spoon into the sink and turns around with a sigh. “You can’t have one of the other guys host.”

  “Sure I can. Lance won’t have a problem with it.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the team captain. Obviously, you need to be the host. I just don’t want to do something embarrassing.”

  “Nothing you do embarrasses me, Violet.” And I mean that truthfully. I love all of Violet’s quirks.

  “Everything I do embarrasses me, though.” She blows out a long breath. “Can we confiscate everyone’s phone as soon as they enter the premises? Like, can you for sure, for sure, guarantee that no one is going to record me doing anything dumb and post it on YouTube five years from now in retaliation for something you said that they didn’t like?”

  “YouTube probably won’t even be a thing in five years.”

  Violet gives me the look. It’s the one that tells me I’m treading on thin ice and the boobs may be off limits if I keep it up. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against me. “Listen, baby, these are my teammates. They know better than to take drunken videos of my wife and post them anywhere unless they want to eat their teeth. You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

  Violet runs her hands over my chest, so, of course, I flex my pecs for her. She tips her chin up, still frowning a little, but I can see the moment she caves. “Fine. But no bunnies. You make sure those newbies know they can’t just disappear behind the pool house to get a damn blowie.”

  I suppress a smirk. “It’s not the newbies I’d be worried about there.”

  Violet purses her lips and wrinkles her nose. “I have no control over Randy and Lily. And Lily isn’t a bunny, and they usually do that in bathrooms. It was only that one time behind the pool house.”

  “That you know of.”

  “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “No. I’m just saying with Randy and Lily, it’s pretty likely it’s happened more than once considering they disappear every five minutes to get each other off. Okay, I need to stop talking about this. Lily’s like family and it grosses me right the hell out. I’ll make sure the guys know that this is a bunny-free zone, but some of them might bring dates.”

  “Just make sure they’re non-bunny dates.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I nuzzle into her neck. Now that my wife is on board with the plan, I need to do something to shift her focus. “Wanna get out the Fruit Roll-Ups and play dress up?”

  Violet pushes back, eyes bright with excitement. If I know how to do anything other than shoot a puck, it’s how to distract my wife. “Really?”

  “As long as you have the mixed berry ones, I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

  Violet jumps up and down, clapping excitedly. “Oh my God! Yes! I have those.” She cups me through my pants and bends down until her face is at crotch level. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  Violet

  “We are not making Jell-O shooters for this party.” Since I’m not pregnant I can tie one on, but I’d like to attempt to keep it together for this party and Jell-O shooters make that difficult. I attempt to prevent Charlene from dumping six boxes of Jell-O powder into the grocery cart, but she starts girl slapping me in the middle of the aisle, which draws attention, so I’m forced to back off.

  “Look, Vi, I know you’re worried it’s going to be like last time, but Jell-O shooters are light on the booze. I promise you’ll be fine.”

  “But they’re so delicious, and once I start eating them, I really can’t stop, and the next thing you know, I’ll have polished off a whole tray on my own and the nightmare will begin.”

  “I won’t let you eat a whole tray.” Charlene throws a tub of Cool Whip in. “Oh, and I can make flash cards with all the players, their number, and their name for you. We can go over them while we make shooters.”

  “Oh my God! Why didn’t I think of that? There are just so many names to remember, and they always know who the hell I am, but I can only remember last names and their jersey number. I always blank out on first names. It’s one thing when it’s a few of the guys, but this is the whole team. I know I’m going to screw someone’s name up. Remember when I mispronounced Kuntz?”

  “Anyone could’ve made that mistake. Look at my last name? No one ever remembers the H is silent in Hoar.” Charlene gives my shoulder a reassuring pat. “You’re a lot better with people than you think you are.”

  “I’m really not,” I mutter. “Can we stop in the ice cream aisle?”

  “Only if we’re picking up non-dairy frozen treats. You’re not eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s four hours before people show up. You’ll bloat like a puffer fish and then you’ll refuse to go swimming.”

  I sigh despondently. “I’ll get sherbet or gelato.”

  _______________

  I don’t actually have time to indulge in anything I shouldn’t, because by the time we return from our shopping trip, it’s already noon and guests will be arriving in two hours, which means Charlene and I have enough time to make rainbow Jell-O shooters but not much else.

  Shots are always a bad idea, and yet we make these every single time we have a party. It’s dumb. But there you go. While we mix Jell-O and vodka, Charlene flashes team faces at me. After the third time through, I manage to get all but a few names right. I’m pretty decent at memorization, and I’ll at least be able to retain the information until I’m drunk, so I’m feeling a little better about things. Also, Charlene and I started drinking mimosas, so that helps, too.

  As I’m going through them one last time, Charlene bends down and retrieves a card from the floor. “I must’ve dropped this one.”

  She tosses it my way and I glance at the name and number. “Ethan Kase, forward, number forty-four.” I flip the card over and am met with some
stellar hotness. “Holy shit, check this guy out.” I hold up the card facing Charlene.

  “Oh yeah, he’s not hard to look at, is he? And those eyes, my God, I bet panties drop as soon as he walks in the room.”

  “I wonder if he wears contacts.”

  “What’re you girls talking about?” Alex comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist.

  “How pretty this guy’s eyes are.”

  Alex grabs the card from me and frowns. “Why do you have a picture of Ethan Kase?”

  “I made team flash cards so Violet can put faces to names since we’re usually looking at the back of a jersey,” Charlene says.

  “Huh, I guess that’s a good idea. But Ethan isn’t playing for Chicago anymore. He just got signed by Minnesota.”

  “So he’s not coming then?” Charlene asks.

  “No, he is. He’s saying goodbye before he takes off.”

  “But wouldn’t it be weird for him—” Charlene starts.

  “Is this his real eye color?” I ask, interrupting their conversation with more important questions.

  Alex shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t spend much time staring into my teammates eyes. Why?”

  “They’re pretty, that’s all.” I take the card and shuffle it back into the deck.

  The doorbell rings, and Alex steps away from me. “I’ll get it.” He pats me on the butt and grumbles something about his eyes being pretty too as he rushes to get the door.

  “I think someone’s jealous,” Charlene whispers.

  “Because I think some guy’s eyes are pretty?” I roll my eyes. “Alex has a pretty dick, especially when it’s dressed up like a superhero, and that’s way better than having pretty eyes.”

  We both snicker and go back to making rainbow Jell-O shooters.

  As promised, he’s totally on top of things, with the planning and the taking care of everything, including me. I’m still nervous about embarrassing myself somehow today in front of all of his teammates. It’s not as if I haven’t done it before, but I would prefer not to have it happen every time we have some kind of party. A significant percentage of them have seen my bra, or heard me in the midst of an orgasm.

  The new guys have only heard the stories—they don’t have the memories—so it would be great if I could avoid doing something that will tarnish my already less-than-stellar reputation in their eyes.

  I’m relieved that the first people to arrive are our friends. Sunny and Miller and Lily and Randy are followed by Lance and Poppy. Darren is somewhere around here. He floats in and out of the kitchen like a specter, pausing to whisper something to Charlene before he ghosts out again and does whatever Darren does. Presumably he’s helping Alex set up.

  Once the rest of my girl gang arrives, I feel a lot better. They’re like a human safety net. They protect me from my own stupidity, or at least they try to. I wonder if they have a dog for that, kind of like a personal support dog, but this one would be a personal stupidity dog, to keep me from doing stupid things. I should look into it.

  A few hours into the party everything seems to be going smoothly. I’ve done pretty well with remembering the players’ names, so the flash cards can be considered a success.

  Alex has set up a Ping-Pong table in the backyard and people are hanging out in the pool playing volleyball. Since the only balls I like to handle are Alex’s, I sit on the sidelines and nurse mojitos with Charlene. Okay, maybe nurse is the wrong word. I’m on my third. I blame it on how hot it is and how delicious they are.

  I survey the pool as Charlene and I take a seat at the edge so we can dip our feet in the water but stay out of the action. “You know, maybe I don’t mind these team parties.”

  “I told you it wouldn’t be like last time.”

  “And the view sure isn’t bad. I mean, just look at that.” I motion to the back of the guy launching himself into the air, water sluicing over his flexing muscles as he slaps the ball over the net. “It’s the best back porn ever.”

  “Right?” Charlene nods her agreement while chewing on her straw. “So many nice bodies to ogle.”

  I clink my tumbler against Char’s. “Amen to that, sister.”

  Poppy drops down beside me. She’s wearing a huge hat and a pale green beach cover-up. Poor thing burns in minutes, especially on a day like today. “Enjoying the view?” she asks with a cheeky smile.

  “Immensely.” I take another sip of my drink, but end up slurping loudly. “Hmm. That went down a lot faster than I expected.” I shake my empty tumbler, making the ice cubes rattle inside. “I should probably have a spacer before I refill, eh?”

  “What is it?” Poppy asks.

  “A mojito.”

  “Oh! I had one of those. They’re pretty strong. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” Poppy offers. She’s so freaking sweet.

  “I need to use the bathroom anyway. Either of you want a bottle of water?”

  Both Poppy and Charlene say yes. I feel pretty good about being responsible and not getting super shitfaced this early in the day. As I stand up, I realize I may actually be a little drunker than I originally thought, based on the way I wobble.

  “You okay?” Poppy asks.

  “Oh, yeah. You know me, walking in a straight line is tough on a good day, let alone when I’ve had a couple of mojitos.”

  Charlene snorts and gives me one of her half-drunk smiles. “Truth.”

  “Watch out!” someone yells, startling the three of us.

  I look up in time to see a volleyball coming at me.

  Now here’s the thing about me. I’m a lot of things, but adept at catching things being thrown at me, on purpose or not, is not my strong suit. My first inclination is always to run away or duck. Except in this case I’m standing at the edge of the pool, so instead of being smart and taking a step back, I take a step forward.

  The volleyball slams right into my boob as I tumble into the water. I shout my surprise and pain, because a hard ball to the tit hurts like hell, and I end up sucking in water.

  A pair of hands settle on my waist and I’m pulled to the surface, sputtering and coughing. I grab on to a set of thick shoulders while I hack up half a lung.

  “Shit. I’m so fucking sorry. Are you okay?”

  I realize that the shoulders I’m holding belong to the male voice asking me a question, and that the male voice does not belong to my husband. However, I’m still trying to figure out how to breathe again, and my boob really hurts, so I keep one hand on his shoulder so he can continue to be my personal floatation device and wipe my hair out of my eyes.

  Which is the moment I come face to face with the hot guy from the flash cards. Ethan Kase. I guess I am good at memorizing things even when I’m drunk. I cough at his chest a couple more times and get caught up staring at his eyes. They’re just, so . . . odd. But cool, but odd. It’s like the sun is trying to burst out of his right iris.

  Let me preface what comes out of my mouth next, because I’m more than half in the bag. Also, I just fell into the pool and nearly choked to death, and I got hit in the boob, so my brain and my words are not in the same zip code. “Ooooohhhh, you have pretty eyes.” I’m super close to his face, so I can see that he does not, in fact, wear contacts. I cough in his face again. And, of course, I feel bad, so I drag a wet hand over his chin. “Sorry ’bout that.”

  “Vi, baby? What’s going on here?” Alex’s voice comes from behind us.

  Ethan’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit, your Waters’ wife? I’m so fucking sorry.” He lets go of me and raises his hands in the air. “I am so sorry, Waters. I didn’t mean to . . . I missed the ball.”

  I turn to see Alex standing at the edge of the pool. He looks pissed off. Although, I’m not exactly sure why. It’s not like it’s this guy’s fault that I’m chronically clumsy and fell into the pool.

  I doggy paddle back to the edge, still coughing a little, and accidentally kick Pretty Eyes. Yes, my brain starts to refer to him as Pretty Eyes instead of his name. Maybe those mojitos are a lot
stronger than I thought. He mutters a curse and I look over my shoulder to find him cupping his man jewels. Of course, I have to kick the poor guy in the balls.

  Alex reaches in and hoists me out of the water, still glaring at Pretty Eyes.

  “It was an accident,” I cough. “Pretty Eyes was saving me from drowning because I’m clumsy.”

  Alex frowns. “Pretty Eyes?” Shitballs, he noticed my slip.

  “Everything okay, Alex? The ball went high and hit Violet. Kase tried to stop it!” Randy calls from the other end of the pool. “You okay, Vi?”

  I raise my hands in the air. “I’m fine, everyone. My boob took the brunt of the hit. Don’t worry, Alex will kiss it better later.” I scrunch up my face. “Dammit. I was doing so good with the non-embarrassing remarks today.”

  Alex’s mouth twitches and he wraps one arm around my waist. “Let’s get you dried off and I can check you for damage.”

  “I’m real sorry!” Pretty Eyes calls out as Alex guides me toward the pool house.

  “Don’t worry about it!” I call over my shoulder. “Wow. His eyes are really something else.”

  “You’ve mentioned that a few times now.” Alex shuffles me into the pool house bedroom and closes the door. “Where did you get hit exactly?”

  I point to my left boob and take a seat on the edge of the bed, soaking the comforter with my wet butt. “He doesn’t wear contacts.”

  Alex arches an annoyed brow as he pulls the tie behind my neck, setting my boobs free.

  “It’s just an observation, and my boob is fine.”

  “I’m checking anyway.”

  “You just want to cop a feel.”

  “I want to make sure my teammate didn’t damage my wife,” he snaps and cups my boobs in his hands, thumbs brushing over my nipples.

  “Alex,” I breathe.

  His eyes flip up to mine. “Does that hurt, baby?”

  “No.”

  He bites his lip and does it again. “Does it feel good?”