Page 53 of One Steamy Pucking Meet Cute

“Lay down.”

I hesitate but lay myself back on the grass.

She puts the balloon on my stomach, then backs up like she’s going for a running start.

“Caroline?” I ask. “Time for what?”

“Ahhhhhhh!” She shouts, fists pumping as she runs full speed toward me, jumping at the last second.

I watch as if it’s all in slow motion as she flies toward me, knees pulled up for a cannonball aimed straight at my over-stuffed stomach.

I’m too shocked to react.

The crowd hushes.

The other teams look over, eyes wide as gravity pulls her inevitably closer to my doom.

And then she makes contact. First, the balloon pops from the sheer force of impact. Next, her ass pushes the contents of my stomach the only way they can go.

Up.

It’s not pretty. My poor stomach didn’t even have time to digest what comes spraying out of me as I roll to my side.

There’s a collective “oooh” of sympathy, but I barely hear it.

I’m seeing stars and tasting things that aren’t nearly as delicious the second time around.

Caroline kneels beside me, rubbing my back as Paisley happily awards us one point.

“We won, though,” Caroline says.

All I can do is groan and lay back down.

22

CAROLINE

In my pre-mom days, we probably would’ve all met up at a bar after the games to wind down and recover. Tonight, though, I take Jake back to the B&B. He heads to my bedroom to take a shower while I handle a few loose ends with guests.

Once I’ve got Walker down for bed, I turn my attention to Jake, who looks considerably better after his shower.

I’m trying really hard not to smile as I sit beside him on the little couch in my room. He’s studying some kind of hockey thing on his phone with a serious look on his face.

“So… we’re in the lead,” I try. “The wedding games are practically ours.”

Jake drags his eyes from the phone to me, unimpressed. “That’s wonderful.”

“I did try to warn you against eating so much.”

“Was that because you knew you were going to perform a cannonball on my stomach?”

I choke back a laugh. “It wasn’t a cannonball.”

“You only stopped short of plugging your nose.” He does look a little irritated, but some of it fades at that. The corner of his mouth pulls up just a touch.

“Well, you did great. And I’m sorry I made you throw up. Everybody thought it was hilarious if it’s any consolation. They only ever see you in complete control and all commanding and intimidating. I think people enjoyed your vulnerable side.”

“Then I hope they remembered it well because it’s not coming back.”

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