Page 12 of Zero Pucks

“So he’s played.”

“As far as I know,” Boden said, and there was a strange tension in his tone. He was holding something back. “No. He hasn’t.”

For a moment, it felt like the entire room went silent. Then, there was a whip-crack sensation in the back of my head, and all the noise flooded back in. “So we have some random French mustard guy who’s never been in a sled hired on to coach us.”

“According to this meeting, yes,” Boden said, pointing at me with his fork. He was raw-dogging his salad with no dressing, and I pretended not to notice. “Jacob doesn’t care, and there’s only so much fight I can put up.”

“Did you threaten to quit?”

Boden snorted. “That was the first thing I did. He told me to stop being dramatic and then said he’d walk me to my car if I wanted to show myself out.”

“Fucker.” Jacob was good at calling a bluff. Should have brought his ass to Vegas. “So we’re stuck.” I sat back and folded my arms, staring down at my plate. Half of it blurred into nothing as my eye started to get tired. “We should form our own team. You could ask your dad to sponsor us. He’s rich, right?”

“Not after his fourth divorce,” Boden said. “I have a better idea though.”

I leaned forward, my eyes closed, my ears tuned in. “Hit me with it.”

“We make Hugo regret the day he thought this was a good idea.”

I sat back with a massive grin. There was the Boden I knew and loved. The man who had thrown caution to the wind and let go of all his fucks for a single night in Beijing. And yes, it got us banned. Andyes, he’d been working his ass off to rebuild his reputation and be invited back, as well as earn a spot in the professional sled league.

But for a moment, I was going to enjoy the angry, fierce, fiery-eyed man I’d met all those years ago. “I missed that look on your face.”

He said nothing, but he smiled as he took another sip of his water.

“Okay. So, we’ll get Ford over next weekend, and we can start formulating our plans. I think we—” My words were cut off when my phone began to buzz, and I looked down at the screen. “Speak of the devil.” I hit the Answer button. “Babe, you’ll never guess what Boden and I are doing.”

Ford was quiet for a beat, and then he cleared his throat. “That’s not important right now. I’m at your place.”

“Uh. Okay?” That wasn’t unusual.

“I needed laundry soap,” he said. Also not strange. He was always stealing our shit.

“Why do you sound freaked-out?” I was worried. His voice was almost trembling, and that was not like Ford at all. “What’s wrong? Is someone dead? Oh my God, did Betsy die?” She was our neighbor who always made us kolaches on Sundays.

“Betsy’s fine. It’s worse than that.”

What the fuck could be worse than losing Betsy? “Tell me.”

“Someone came to the door. Obviously, I answered it,” he said. Becauseobviously. “Tuck?”

“Um. Yeah?” Now I was really scared. Boden was staring at me with wide eyes.

‘What’s going on?’ he mouthed.

I shook my head as Ford cleared his throat.

“So…I think I figured out what you did in Vegas.”

My heart felt like it was about to stop beating. “What do you mean? What did I do?”

“Well, apparently, you got married because your husband just showed up.”

CHAPTERTHREE

AMEDEO

“So,you’re telling me that this isn’t a legitimate marriage. Right?”

---