Page 71 of Pucking Obsessed

“Hey, sis.” Cody wraps his arms around me, staring out at the water. Then he whispers, dramatically, “We may be planning a mutiny.”

“Count me in.”

Michael sits stiffly on the couch next to us like a bodyguard.

Dad narrows his eyes. “Mutiny, huh? Not on my ship. And my hockey ship, the Bay Rebels, has more serious problems like the pirates who are trying to board her.”

I glance at him. “You mean that asshole Colton.”

Dad nods. “Or the board members. I don’t trust that worm, Heine, who Colton has run to with his scheme. If we’re not united as a family, then our careers and legacy are over, before this season is even ended.”

“Career,” Cody says, softly. “Legacy. So, that’s why you want to unite our family.”

I lay my hand on Cody’s leg, comfortingly.

Dad’s expression gentles. “It’s not the only reason. You know that I don’t do this emotions crap. I’m trying. It’s going to take time between us. Since when did you need coddling?”

“Loving.” Michael’s mouth is set in a firm line. “It’s not the same thing.”

Dad waves away his words. “My son knows that I love him.”

Cody glances surprised at Dad.

Has Dad ever told Cody that he loves him? Directly in those words?

Is he even truly saying it now?

Dad takes a swig of his wine. “Now, what I want to know is why my security team sent me a red alert first thing this morning, Robyn?”

I freeze. “Let’s not ruin this lovely trip talking about my crisis.”

Cody’s eyes widen. “Crisis?”

I wet my dry lips. “Did I say crisis? I mean, panic? Emergency?”

Michael’s lips twitch. “So much better.”

“Someone sent D’Angelo devil horn cuff links, as if for the Halloween event,” I hurriedly explain, “along with a note on the box:For my prince of devils. Let me be your corrupted angel. Wear these and think of me. XXX.”

Cody shudders. “It’s the kisses that creep me out.”

Michael quirks his brow. “Who knew that Halloween gifts could be scary in all the wrong ways?”

“I know, right?” I run my hand through my hair. “Is it fan mail gone too far? Subtle hate mail? Stalking? An attempt at intimidation? Unless one of you sent them…?”

Dad huffs. “Do I look like the type of coach who sends his players messages that end in kisses?”

“I don’t know whether it’s worse to say yes or no,” Michael deadpans.

“We didn’t send them.” Cody looks troubled. “How did someone get your current address? Nobody knows it, right?”

“That’s not true.” Dad finishes his wine, slamming down his glass. “The entire security team do. I’ll have them thoroughly questioned.”

“Neve does,” Cody adds.

I snort. “She’s even less likely to send D’Angelo messages with kisses on them.”

Dad looks grim. “The address is on your contract. Anyone who works on the staff of the Bay Rebels and doesn’t mind risking both their ass and their job could have found out the details.”

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