Page 10 of Pucking Revenge

A loud laugh escapes Dylan, and she slaps a hand to her mouth. “Maybe he already knows.” The words are muffled, but her eyes are bright.

Beckett jumps out and hustles to the back of the vehicle. He hauls the rear door open and helps the most adorable dog to the sidewalk. Its fur is golden, and there’s a white patch over its eye.

With a leash in one hand, Beckett holds a finger up and shoots a scowl at Cortney. “Not a word, Man Bun.”

Dylan throws her head back and full-on guffaws. “This is going to be so good.”

Brooks drops to his knees and grabs for the puppy. “What’s the little guy’s name?”

My boss, who looks like a grumpy, well-groomed Henry Cavill and is dressed in a navy-blue suit, smiles proudly. “Deogi.”

“D-O-G?” I can’t help the confused frown that takes over my face.

“Yeah, Deogi.”

Brooks, who’s still kneeling, laughs as he looks up at his brother. “You can’t name your dog Dog.”

Beckett frowns. “I didn’t. I named it Deogi.”

“Oh my God. Someone stop the insanity,” Cortney grumbles behind me.

Dylan shuffles forward, still grinning, then sighs. “I really can’t wait for Liv to see this.”

Behind the sleek van, Gavin pulls up in his black Bugatti. This man is as ridiculous as Beckett used to be when it comes to his car. He constantly refers to it as his baby in an almost creepy way.

The passenger door flies open, and Aiden jumps from the front seat. He springs off the sidewalk and throws himself down next to Brooks. “A dog!” His eyes are saucers as he looks from Brooks to Beckett to Gavin and then back to the dog again. “Can I get one?”

Brooks throws out an arm and pushes him over. “You control you, bro. Do what you want.”

Aiden collapses on one side, but he doesn’t look away from the dog. He’s still all heart eyes and giant smiles.

“He’s not getting a puppy,” Gavin grumbles, rounding the hood of his car.

It’s impossible not to smile in the presence of all four Langfield brothers. I truly love them. Sure, they write my paycheck—Gavin more so than the rest, since he manages the hockey division of Langfield Corp—but when they’re all together, they’re hysterical.

“Come on,” Aiden whines, popping back up on his knees and nuzzling the dog.

“We do travel for like 70 percent of the year,” I offer. If I have to pick a side, I’m going with Gavin. Staying in his good graces is always priority number one. Paycheck signatures and all that.

Brooks just shakes his head and gives me a charming smile, then turns back to the dog. There he is, laughing off my ridiculousness again. But this time all I’m doing is stating a fact.

Gavin claps Beckett on the back. “Cute dog. Can’t wait to see Finn’s reaction.”

“It’ll probably be like Aiden’s.” Beckett cocks a brow at his youngest brother, who’s got his face buried in the fur of the dog’s neck.

“Hey,” Aiden whines, pulling back. “Are you calling me a child?”

“If the shoe fits,” Gavin mutters, heading up the steps. “Let’s get this show on the road. I’m starving. What are we having for dinner?”

The front door swings open, and Liv’s six-year-old son appears. He’s dressed in camo pants and holding a Nerf gun in front of his chest.

Beckett points at his little boy. “Gun dow?—”

Finn drops the brightly colored weapon on the porch with a clatter and launches himself down the stairs, where he scoots in between Brooks and Aiden. “Whose dog?”

Beckett crouches low and holds the dog’s collar so he can’t jump on Finn. “Ours, Huck. What do you think?”

“Really?” he screeches. He’s up again, and then his little arms are circled around Beckett’s neck and squeezing him tight.

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