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

by Helena Hunting

  I’m currently sitting in Waters’ kitchen, having been invited for dinner, along with the rest of the regular crew. It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Not since the weekend at the cottage before preseason training started. I’m positive this is everyone’s way of keeping me busy, which is smart because I’m definitely not handling this no contact shit well.

  I’ve been stalking Poppy’s social media profiles—she hasn’t updated even once in the past four days. She doesn’t even have a relationship status posted or anything, and I can’t remember if there was ever something posted in the first goddamn place.

  I’ve also driven by her work a few times, and by her house once. Mr. Goldberg, her ancient neighbor, was all nice-nice still, loving on me for bringing him oat biscuits. He didn’t seem to know anything about what happened with Poppy, just said she’d been out a lot the last few days.

  I wonder a bit if the way I am over Poppy is anything like the way Tash is with me. But that can’t be possible, because Tash doesn’t actually give a shit about me—she just likes to mess with me. I’m in love with Poppy. I know that. I get it now. I just hope it isn’t too late, or I think I’m going to be fucked for life.

  Alex and Westinghouse have gone to pick up Charlene and the food. Sunny’s off feeding the baby somewhere. Or napping. Or maybe both. Randy and Miller are having Xbox wars. Normally, I’d join in, but I’m thinking now is a good time to get some girl advice on how the fuck to proceed. Waiting things out is not my forte.

  I’ve been on the verge of throwing a party the past couple of days, which is a colossally bad idea. Parties equal bunnies and bunnies equal never getting to talk to Poppy again, which is the last thing I want.

  I spin my phone on the counter, wishing it would light up with a message. Anything really.

  “Why don’t you just call her?” Violet asks, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth.

  Violet isn’t cooking, thank fuck. She really sucks at anything that requires an oven, although I’d never say that to her.

  One would think with her math background, measuring ingredients would be easy, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. She’s too distractible. We’re ordering in from a great little Italian place instead. She’s making a salad, because that can’t be burned.

  “She said she needed time.”

  “Girls always say that. What we really mean is send me all sorts of apology gifts and make the damn problem better.”

  “Really?” I look to Lily for confirmation. Sometimes Violet’s advice is questionable.

  Lily shrugs. “It doesn’t hurt to send her nice things so she knows you’re thinking about her.”

  “Like flowers?”

  “Flowers are always good.” Lily nods her approval.

  “And chocolate,” Violet says.

  “I’m allergic to chocolate.”

  “Really? That’s horrible. What about candy? Oh! Alex got my boobs a gift certificate to Victoria’s Secret.”

  “I don’t know that I want details about that.”

  “It’s something to consider if she likes lingerie,” Violet says.

  “Yeah. I don’t know if that’s really the best idea right now. Flowers seem like they’re a safe option. And maybe some candies or something. What else did Waters do when he screwed up?”

  “He publicly declared his love for me on a nationally televised interview, and then he stole his own thunder when Chicago won The Cup by asking me to be his girlfriend.”

  “Uh . . . that’s, uh . . . I’m not gonna do that.”

  “Alex is pretty good at the grand gesture thing.”

  “What about Ballistic? How’d he fix things?”

  “He drove to my house and apologized for being an idiot,” Lily says.

  “I’ve already apologized. Now I’m waiting for her to want to talk to me.”

  “I have an idea!” Violet smacks the counter.

  Violet’s ideas are sometimes out there, but at this point I’m willing to hear what she has to say.

  “You want her to be your girlfriend, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Do you have any idea how cute you are when you get all leprechaun-y?”

  “Leprechauns are Irish. I’m Scottish.”

  She waves her hand around. “Same thing.”

  “Not even close,” I argue.

  “It was supposed to be a compliment. Anyway, back to Poppy and this situation, what do you think the hardest part of dating a hockey player is?”

  “Uhhh . . .” I have no idea where she’s going with this.

  “Going long stretches without sex,” Lily says.

  Violet gives her a look. “Right. I’m sure you come seven hundred times when you have phone conversations with Balls. Your life is so hard.”

  “Randy can’t make me come on the phone.”

  “Can we stay on track here?” I ask. Also, I’m not having sex right now, and I don’t want to know about the sex my teammates are having.

  “I was going to say dealing with rumors and bunnies,” Violet says.

  “Oh. Yeah. Totally.” Lily nods her agreement. “When I moved in with Randy, the bunnies went crazy. For a while there I had daily messages from girls who didn’t like that I was with him. They were pretty nasty.”

  Violet props her chin on her fist. “And how did you deal with that?”

  “I talked to Sunny, and you and Charlene, and Randy, of course.”

  Violet swings her gaze to me, like she expects me to get what the hell the point is, other than if Poppy decides I’m worth dating, she’s going to have to deal with bitchy bunnies.

  “Poppy needs to meet us.”

  I frown.

  Violet motions to our little group around the island, and then to Randy and Miller in the living room. “We’re a family. If you want to get serious with her, you need to bring her into the fold. She needs people to talk to when it gets hard, because it does. I wouldn’t have made it through last spring when Alex had his accident without all of you. Alex and I wouldn’t even be married. I’d probably still be planning a wedding for eleven million people. If you want Poppy to know you’re serious about getting serious, you can’t just keep her to yourself. And based on how mopey you are right now, I’m guessing you do want to get serious.”

  My entire plan has always been to keep her safe from the media crap, but I get what Violet’s saying. If this is going to be a real thing, then I can’t hide her away.

  Lily nods. “Violet’s right. Invite her to a game and have her bring a friend. She needs to know that you’re invested in something other than her vagina.”

  The Birthday Outtake

  WHY DID I write this? I wrote this back in 2017 for KU Korner. I loved writing Lance and Poppy’s story, and revisiting them in the future, while they’re in love and happy and just the sweetest couple ever, made me so happy.

  Birthday Bash

  Gummy Bear Style

  “LANCE IS GOING to jizz a bucketload.”

  “You should write Hallmark cards,” Charlene deadpans while looking at her phone.

  Violet makes a face at Charlene. “Eat Darren’s dick.”

  Charlene gives her a saucy grin. “With pleasure.”

  I cringe at their completely unfiltered banter, thankful we’re in my bedroom—the one I share with Lance—and not a public place. I smooth my hands over the soft fabric and check out my reflection in the full-length mirror. “You don’t think it’s too juvenile?”

  “No way. It’s freaking adorable,” Violet replies.

  “I don’t want to look adorable. I want to look sexy. Maybe I should change into something else.” When I first stumbled on the pinup style, form-fitting dress covered in a gummy bear print pattern, I thought it was hilarious. The mint green fabric is covered in tiny, three-dimensional gummy bears, the sweetheart neckline embellished with forest green lace accents, which also line the hem, and deep green satin ribbon cinches at the waist.

  Charlene slips her phone into her purse and
crosses her arms over her chest. “You look adorably sexy. You’re not changing.”

  “I think the bra and panties might be overkill.” They match the dress. I wish Lily was here, but she’s at work and won’t arrive until later, and Sunny can’t come over until Logan is up from his afternoon nap.

  It’s not that I don’t trust Violet and Charlene’s advice. It’s just that they’re a little forceful about things, especially when they’re together. I have a lot of new lingerie and bathing suits thanks to lunch/shopping expeditions with them. I try to say no, but then Violet messages Lance and then he messages me and tells me to put in the credit card he gave me when I moved into his house last year. It’s all very kept woman-ish. Except I work full-time as a massage therapist, so I’m not kept at all.

  “The bra and panties aren’t overkill. Look, you’ve got this sweet-sexy thing going on.” Charlene waves her hand around my face and then gestures to the rest of me. “This dress shows off your curves and it’s covered in Lance’s favorite gelatin-inspired sugary treat. It’s not juvenile and he’s going to love it.”

  “So much that he might jizz in his pants.”

  “Stop saying jizz, Violet. We’re not making it the word of the day.” Charlene rolls her eyes.

  “It’s a good word.” Violet turns her attention back to me. “All you need is jewelry, something understated and simple, I think.”

  “What about pearls?” Charlene fingers hers. It’s the only necklace I ever see her wear.

  Violet and I share a look. “Yeah, pretty sure Poppy here isn’t about to let Lance collar her as a birthday present.”

  I choke back a laugh. I have no idea what the significance of the pearls are, or what the dynamics of Charlene and Darren’s relationship is, but I suspect it’s a little unconventional and not in a gummy bear print lingerie/dress kind of way. Apparently, butt plugs were Violet’s bachelorette party favor, courtesy of Charlene, which says something.

  Charlene throws her hands in the air. “Would you stop?”

  “I’m on a wicked roll today, eh?” Violet directs the comment at me.

  “You sure are.”

  Charlene claps her hands together. “Oh! I have a great idea! What about a gummy bear necklace!”

  “As cute as that would be, people are going to start arriving in less than an hour. Whatever jewelry I’m wearing needs to come from that box over there.” I point to my dresser. I’m throwing Lance a birthday party. A surprise birthday party.

  “I mean a real gummy bear necklace,” Charlene replies.

  “We don’t have time for one of your art projects, Char,” Violet says.

  “Everything we need is right here. It’ll only take a few minutes and then you’ll be perfect.” Charlene gestures to the bed. Instead of rose petals, it’s sprinkled with gummy bear confetti, and there are bowls of gummy bears on the nightstand. I make a mental note not to let these two help me plan Lance’s next birthday party. But he’s turning twenty-five, and I don’t think he’s ever really celebrated it properly, so here I am, gummy beared out the wazoo.

  Charlene roots around in her purse and pulls out a small tube. “What’s his favorite flavor?”

  “He likes the green ones best. What is this?” I pick up the tube she’s tossed on the bed.

  “It’s an edible adhesive.” She starts sifting through the bowl of gummies, piling up all the green ones.

  “I’m sorry, it’s what?”

  “It’s like body glue. So you can stick things to your skin. Except it’s non-toxic and edible,” Charlene explains.

  “And you just happen to be carrying that around in your purse?” Violet asks.

  “It’s handy. It keeps bra straps and other strappy things in place.”

  Violet grabs the tube from me and inspects it. “It’s a little weird that this exists and that it’s like, one of your essential items, Char.”

  “Says the woman who dresses her husband’s dick up in costumes.”

  “That’s because Alex’s peen is a super hero.”

  Dear lord, how are these women my friends?

  “Okay. Sit here.” Charlene pats the comforter.

  I sit on the edge of the bed while she and Violet stick gummy bears to my chest in the form of a necklace. I have to admit, when they’re done it looks pretty awesome, Also, Charlene has done a good job of drawing attention to my ample cleavage, thanks to the bust line of this dress.

  Guests begin to arrive and text messages from Randy inform me of Lance’s impending arrival. The boys took him out golfing this afternoon. I’ve been warned they’ve already consumed a few beers, so they’re all feeling pretty good.

  Lance believes we’re having a barbeque with a few close friends. He doesn’t realize I’ve invited his entire team to celebrate. It’s just after seven when they come rolling in. The house quiets as deep raucous voices fill the foyer.

  “Precious! Where ya at?” Lance calls out, his usually light Scottish accent heavier on account of the beers and the sun.

  “Just in the kitchen!” I call back, biting my lip as he and the boys round the corner.

  The chorus of “surprise” has him stopping in his tracks. His wide-eyed shock turns into a slow grin and he surveys the crowd, scanning until his eyes finally find me. They roam over me in a slow sweep I feel all over my body. He doesn’t acknowledge the rest of the room, as if everyone else has ceased to exist.

  “I told you he’d ji—“ Charlene elbows Violet on the boob before she can finish her sentence.

  Lance traces the gummy bear necklace with a fingertip. “These are real, aye.” He takes my face in his hands, heedless of the sixty witnesses, and presses his lips to mine. “Ah fuck, ya taste like candy,” he mutters, tongue sweeping inside my mouth, tasting the remnants of the gummy bear martini I’ve been sipping to calm my nerves.

  I wrap my hand around his wrists and attempt to disconnect our mouths. I’m sure my face is as red as my name. “We have guests.”

  He blinks a couple of times, like he doesn’t understand, then he looks around, a sheepish grin turning up the corner of his mouth as he raises a hand in greeting. “Everyone make yourselves at home, aye? I just need to speak to my precious Poppy alone for like, twenty minutes, maybe more, depending.”

  “Lance!” I shriek when he makes like he’s going to pick me up and haul me off.

  Thankfully, he’s just playing. He sets me down and pats my bottom. “This dress is something else,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m going to enjoy taking it off you later.”

  Later doesn’t arrive until two in the morning when the last guest has left. “You threw me a birthday party,” Lance says after he closes the door for the final time and sets the security alarm. His accent is still more prominent than usual, although there were an unprecedented number of shots. “No one’s ever done anything like that for me.”

  “I wanted it to be special. Did you have fun?”

  “Aye.” He cups my face in his hands, dipping down to press a soft kiss to my lips. “But it’s been right painful looking at ya all night in this dress and not being able to get you outta it. I’d like to do that now, if that’s all right with you.”

  I smile against his lips. “Aye, that’s more than all right.”

  “Come on then. Let me take ya to bed and show you how grateful I am.” He links our pinkies and leads me upstairs.

  Lance moves my hair out of the way and kisses my shoulder as he unzips the dress. Coming to stand in front of me, he hooks his fingers in the straps and drags them down my arms, releasing a heavy breath as he takes in the lace-edged bra and panties that match the dress now pooled at my feet.

  “Bloody hell, precious. Where the fuck did you find this?” He bites the end of his thumb and shakes his head. “You’re a vision.” Stepping in close, he runs his fingertips along the edge of the bra, causing a hot shiver to run down my spine. The gummy bear necklace disappeared over the course of the evening, Lance swooping in every once in a while to suck another candy off
my chest before whispering into my ear about other things he’d rather be eating.

  “I want to worship you for a while.” Picking me up, he carries me over to the bed, stripping out of his shirt and pants as he climbs up after me.

  His touch is slow and reverent. His kisses are soft and lingering. My bra stays on at first, the cups pulled down, my nipples traced first with light fingertips and then followed by the warmth of his tongue. Lance moves down my body, unhurried, despite the hours spent whispering about how much he couldn’t wait to get me up here and naked.

  When he reaches my navel, he sits back on his knees, hooks his thumbs into my panties, and drags them down my thighs. “Does this come as a bikini?” he asks, dropping them on the comforter.

  “I don’t know. I can check.”

  “Please do.” He smooths his hand along the inside of my thighs before shouldering his way between my legs, and then his mouth is on me, laving, slow strokes that push me higher and higher until I unravel.

  He prowls back up my body, hips settling between mine, thick erection pressing against me, and then he’s easing in, filling me.

  His eyes drift shut, and when they open again, his expression is undiluted rapture. He pushes up on one arm, his other palm coming to rest over my heart. “This. You. What you give me. You’re the best gift, precious Poppy.”

  Darren & Charlene

  WHY DID I write/include this? This was meant to be the prologue for Pucked Love. However, it would’ve revealed very early on Charlene’s messed up personal history, which was something I wanted to keep under wraps until later in the story. Writing this helped me frame Charlene’s personality and her choices, particularly when it came to her mother and her relationship with Darren. It also would have shifted the storyline quite a bit if she’d fallen in love with the idea of him at fourteen, which isn’t quite how things roll out in the actual story.

  Love at First Sight

  CHARLENE

  AN RV IS equivalent to an unmarked grave. At least in my worst nightmares it is.