Page 50 of Hat Trick Holidate

We made enough electricity to light up Vegas. Maybe even enough to power the entire country. It was an incredible number of fucking sparks. Explosions.

The entire plane ride, I put on my Beats and thought about Emmaline on our date. How she chewed. Getting her off on the putting green. The flush of her face. How easy the conversation was. And how she forgot about what she thinks her body looks like and rode me like she was a damn champion bull rider—bucking and grinding. The feel of her tits in my mouth. And how she got me to open up. It was all so effortless.

A fucking accountant?

Surely, Roman Rustavelli knows his sister better than that. I turn, leaning my back against the plane’s window, stretch my legs out, and look up Emmaline Rustavelli. I never bothered to look her up since her brother is myteammate. After overhearing the brother-sister duo talking about Penelope, I put Roman and Penelope in the search bar.

Roman Rustavelli’s wife of seven years caught cheating with his agent.

Holy shit. I knew he got a divorce from some of the guys on the team. But like Emmaline said, team captains stay out of the fray. At least I do, and sometimes that’s mistaken for my disinterest. Roman and I had been rivals back in our days in college, but now, he’s my teammate, and I hate that she cheated on him and left him. I know all too well how that feels from every fucking person in my life.

Emmaline said that her fiancé had been Roman’s best friend, so now it’s all adding up. Although it doesn’t make me any less hurt by Emmaline’s words.

When we get to the hotel, I change to a suite with an adjoining bedroom, so Jolie and Emmaline have their own beds. And a door that locks Emmaline out in case I need to tend to my wounded… heart or my ego. God, I hope it’s my ego that feels slashed.

Someone slaps my shoulder. I swivel my head around, expecting Cross or Snow, but it’s her brother.

“Do you hate your Porsche?”

“What?” I snip. I’m in a fucking bad mood.

“My sister is an awful driver. Next time you lend her a car, you may want to give her your Mustang.”

My Mustang is vintage. “No one drives my Mustang. Betty is my baby.” I start it every day and drive around the parking garage. But I only drive it three times a year, really drive it. “Plus, it’s not an automatic. Your sister doesn’t seem like she would know how to drive a stick. Being all country club.”

Roman laughs in my face. “You should get to know your nanny a little better. There may be things you don’t want her to teach your daughter.”

I’ve been getting to know every inch of her.

He strides off, and I go to the hotel suite, dump my weekender bag on the floor, strip, take another shower, and grab an early dinner with the team. Reed pulls out the chair next to mine, which scrapes against the hardwood floor and says, “Jolie was great last night. She smiled the whole time as long as Cannon was beside her.”

“Did she talk?”

“She said his name once when she couldn’t find him while they were playing hide and seek. He told me at breakfast, but I didn’t hear it. He was so proud that the first word she said was his name,” Reed says smiling.

Of course, it’s awesome that she spoke, but I really wanted her first word to be Daddy.

“That’s good. I think I need to keep an eye on Cannon. Not sure I want her to end up with a boy who’s got game at six years old,” I tease in a meditative tone.

He thinks I’m kidding, but I’m not. Now I know how Roman feels about his sister dating a professional athlete. There’s no doubt in my mind that Cannon will be a professional athlete. The boy loves to compete—it’s in his DNA.

“Is the family coming this weekend?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s the one weekend where the kids are free. And let me tell you, I’m so fucking thrilled. I was used to Brooke being on the road with me but with five kids, she just can’t do it all. Trying to get this app out of beta testing and starting a ballet center. She needs to have some fun. Thekids are staying at Dane and Lettie’s mansion, so Brooke and I can have some alone time.”

A month ago, I wouldn’t truly understand the difficulty of having a sex life when you have kids, but now that Jolie comes first, I do. I had to set up a sleepover so I could go on a date and damn, it was fucking great night. Not such a good morning.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen Dane and Lettie. We played the Nashville Notes a few years ago, and a bunch of us guys went to watch them perform at the Bluebird. They’re incredible.”

Reed nods in agreement. “Can you imagine being awesome at more than one thing? I admit, I’m an incredible hockey player, but to be a professional basketball player and a professional singer is next level.” He shakes his head and takes a drink of his vegetable protein shake. “They’ll be at the game tomorrow. They’re singing the national anthem. Tonight, they’re keeping the kids.”

“Can’t wait to see them.”

“So how was your date?” he asks.

“Extra.”

Reed’s eyes pinch. “What does extra mean? Sorry, I’m not up on urban diction.”

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