Page 12 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

“Nice to meet you,” Miranda says. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“Don’t thank them, I get all the thanks,” Carter says. “Without me, you’d be homeless.”

I know he’s teasing, but by the way Miranda’s already fair face goes chalk white, she doesn’t realize it.

“Of course, sorry. Thank you, Trevor.” Her Irish lilt is coming through. That’s something I’ve noticed happens when she’s tired or upset and can’t fully disguise it.

I wait for him to tell her he’s teasing, but he doesn’t. He stuffs another forkful of eggs in his mouth. I like Carter, I really do, but right now I want to punch him.

Nudging Miranda with my elbow to get her attention, I ask, “Did Daphne give you information about what you need to pack for the trip?”

“Um, I don’t know. Will we be coming back here for our bags, or do we take them with us this morning?” She’s biting her bottom lip, and my wolf licks his. “Let me go check my phone. Thanks for breakfast, Brick, it was delicious.”

“You’re welcome,” Brick says. “Can you cook? We take turns. Not every day, but a few times a week we eat together and rotate playing chef.”

Beautiful gray eyes widen in panic. “I’ve cooked for myself. Never for a group of people and certainly not shifters. I don’t think I can make enough food for all of you.” She gives a shaky laugh.

“We’ll team up until you get the hang of it,” I offer.

Her hand rests on my forearm and gives a gentle squeeze that shoots right to my dick.

“You’re a lifesaver, Declan. Let me go check my phone to see if Daphne sent anything and put stuff in my carry-on. We fly out this afternoon, spend tonight and tomorrow night in Spokane, the next in Colorado Springs, and fly home after the Colorado game? Do I have it right?”

“Yep,” Stone says. “Then we have three days off and a home stand. It’s a shame you didn’t arrange to join us in Washington. All this flying must screw up your body clock.”

“Whatever,” she says. “I’m used to adapting. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

She heads back to her bedroom, and we continue eating. I know she’s used to traveling and adapting to wherever she ends up, but I want her to stay somewhere long-term. Okay, what I truly want is for her to stay with me. Would she want to settle down? Miranda seems ready to always go on a new adventure and move somewhere new. I dream of having a home and a family. I want to raise horses and babies. With Miranda. If she’d stay. Can I convince her I’m enough and worth settling down for? Or can I sacrifice my dreams to follow hers?

8

MIRANDA

Daphne’s text gives me the scoop on what I’ll need for the trip. She has a stash of team branded gear I can wear to the games. I open my carry-on bag and repack it. We fly on chartered flights, which is wonderful. The rugby team I worked for often flew commercial when we weren’t taking a bus. The players would always get first class and business class seats, and I’d be back in economy with the other travel staff.

I can pack with my eyes closed. After confirming the temperature for where we are going, I add more sweaters and cozy socks. I left the southern hemisphere in the middle of summer. It will take time to acclimate to winter in the northern hemisphere. The next week is going to suck between jet lag and not being warm. At least we will have a few days off and then home games. I’ll have to ask if the team does anything for New Year’s Eve. I’d be happy with a quiet night home but knowing Trevor’s love of being in the center of the action, he’ll probably throw a party.

I grab my coat and wheel my carry-on out to the common room. Burke is there. No. I should call him Bedard, start using everyone’s nicknames and last names. Everyone else comes out with their bags. Declan takes mine to carry downstairs before I grab it.

“Dec, give me my bag. I can carry it. Brick is carrying her own.”

“He tried to carry mine, Randi,” Brick says as she follows me down the stairs. “His default setting is to be a gentleman. It’s refreshing.”

“How did you get him to stop?” I ask over my shoulder.

Stone chuckles, tossing his head to get his shaggy brown hair out of his big brown eyes framed with beautiful long eyelashes. His grin is mischievous. “She threatened to put Bengay in his cup.”

My nose wrinkles, and Declan glances back at me.

“You have access to my shampoo,” he says. “Are you going to put hair remover in it?”

I reach out to ruffle his thick, black hair. It’s cool and crisp in my fingers. It has a bit of curl to it. I love it when it grows out and the curls appear. Reminds me of the boy who meant everything to me as a child. He normally keeps it cut short, but through the years when we had our video chats or we’d have infrequent visits, there were times it was longer and the curls were there.

“No, I love your hair. I’d double check your toothpaste, though.”

Everyone laughs as we make our way downstairs. We pile into Declan’s Suburban, and I sit between Declan and Bedard in the front row. Stone, Brick, and Trevor—I guess I should call him Carter now—are in the row behind us.

It’s nice being in relative silence. The past few days have been almost constant noise with the airports, flights, rink, and all the new people. I give off an air of being social and extroverted because it makes it easier to be accepted when I’m someplace new, but I love being able to have some solitude. I’ve always been like that. When I was a girl living with the Mackenzies at their home in Ireland, they could usually find me in a gazebo on the grounds of their home. It was on the edge of the woods and surrounded by a field full of daisies and forget-me-nots. It was my favorite place in the entire world. I could get away from the other kids. Declan has four younger brothers and his sister, Sophie.

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