Page 128 of Pucking Revenge

As much as I don’t want Brooks to see how absolutely wrecked I am, I can’t stop myself from peeking up at him. The man I love. The man I thought would be my forever.

Without this job, can we make it? Being apart for days at a time during the season is one thing, but if we’re forced to live states apart even when he is home, I don’t see how we can survive.

Not to mention the trolls. If they could climb out of my phone’s screen to protect Saint Brooks from Slutty Sara, they would. Better yet, they’d stick me in one of those contraptions they used to shame people in olden days. They’d leave me there with my head and arms hanging out and throw apples at me. Or maybe pie. Probably penis-shaped pies. Because they’re mean, and I’d deserve it. Slutty Sara deserves to be penis pied in the face.

“You’re not going to lose your job.”

“Easy for you to say. They can’t fire you.”

Brooks scoffs. “Pretty sure Gavin would like to. And he has that power. But they aren’t going to fire you. You did nothing wrong.” He steps in front of me and hauls me to my feet. “We’ll talk to a publicist. We’ll set the record straight.” With a huff, he drops down to the couch and pulls me onto his lap. “It’s been one fucking day. I’m not going to let him ruin us.”

I snuggle into his chest. “I don’t want to be penis pied, Brooks. But if they do, make sure it’s blueberry. Red isn’t my color.”

His chest rumbles beneath my cheek as he pulls me in tighter. “Crazy girl, I’m not even going to ask.”

“I’m serious.” My lips quirk a little, despite my best efforts.

“What about boysenberry? Or peach?” He kisses my forehead. “Ooh. Pumpkin would be perfect.”

I smack his chest lightly. “No one uses pumpkin in a penis pie.”

Brooks chuckles. “My bad.”

Reluctant to break our connection, I pull back and suck in a breath. “I should probably shower and get dressed. Maybe work on my resume.”

“They’re not firing you.” His brows are pulled low, and that surly frown I haven’t seen in months has returned. “I’m serious, Sar. It’s not happening.”

“Even if they don’t, how can I stay here? The whole city hates me.”

Fingers digging into my chin lightly, he forces me to look at him. Tormented green eyes study me. “I will fix this.”

It’s a relief that he isn’t offering to pay my way. He isn’t asking me to move in, and he isn’t offering to help with Ethan’s medical bills either, thank God. It would destroy me if he did. I’m too prideful.

Eventually, I want to live with Brooks. I want to rely on him, and I want him to feel the same about me. But not like this.

Throwing money isn’t Brooks’s style, which only makes me love him more.

Just as that thought brings me a modicum of peace, both our phones light up on the table in front of us, and my heart is in my throat again.

Liv’s name appears on mine.

Liv: We’re going to handle this. You know the drill. Keep your head down for a few days and let me do what I do best.

A tremor of relief works its way through me. Liv is a master fixer. Time and again, she’s done it for Beckett, for the organization. Hell, she did it for herself when her life blew up. If anyone can find a way to get the press on our side, it’s her.

But beside me, Brooks’s shoulders are slumped and he’s wearing a defeated frown. He offers me his phone.

Gavin: Be at Langfield Corp at 10 A.M. Aunt Zoe has called a board meeting. Don’t even think about bringing Sara.

A penis pie to the face is sounding more likely by the second.

FORTY-FIVE

BROOKS

The walls of Langfield Corp have never intimidated me. Unlike my brothers, I’ve spent very little time in this building. While Aiden and I were playing peewee hockey, Beckett and Gavin were earning MBAs and being groomed for this office.

For as long as I can remember, the plan was for each of them to take over their respective teams. While scouts were watching me play in high school, Gavin, who’s ten years older than me, was already working his way up the ladder.

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