Page 133 of The Puck Stops Here

‘And are you?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Blake!’ came his brother again.

‘Coming!’

He only wished he was for real…

* * *

Getting through pudding with Blake sat across from her, his Christmas sweater as bright as her post-orgasmic glow, was a challenge like no other. Didn’t matter that he was wearing what could only be described as a festive tent, she’d never wanted a man more.

Every time he caught her eye, the look they shared was enough to torch the table and she was pretty sure his brother and mother knew something had happenedupstairs. Which only made her cheeks glow more.

Talk turned to their last few games and the world’s view on Blake ‘reining in the aggression’ and ‘lacking the trademark fire of Fury’. The guy couldn’t win. Either he was too unhinged, a blemish on the game, or he wasn’t playing hard enough.

But what did it matter so long as he was still scoring high? Scoring high and enjoying it? Which he seemed to be…

‘I scored a new record so all the doubters can go fuck themselves as far as I’m concerned.’

‘Blake!’

‘Sorry, Mom.’

‘I’m just glad you’re not getting in as many scrapes.’

‘We all are,’ Aiden said, turning his smile on Astrid. Did he really think it was all down to her?

‘So you have the Massachusetts Penguins later this week?’ Cynthia was saying. ‘Back on your old ice. How are you feeling about it?’

‘Like we always feel,’ Blake said. ‘Like we’re gonna win.’

‘We’ll wipe the ice with them for sure.’

The twins exuded confidence, and so they should. They’d played the Penguins enough over the years. But it had to add an extra emotional punch to the game, skating in the arena they’d used as a haven to escape their father, to study and to train, to turn their lives around.

A phone started to ring from somewhere in the house and Blake looked to the hallway. ‘That’s gonna be me. Sorry Mom, can you excuse me a sec?’

‘Of course,’ she said, watching him go.

Aiden pushed his bowl aside. ‘That pie was as tasty as ever, Mom.’

‘Hand on heart, it’s the best I’ve ever had,’ Astrid added.

‘I’m so glad you enjoyed it.’ Cynthia beamed. ‘Can I get you any more?’

‘I’d love to have room for it but I’m so full.’ She pressed a hand to her overstuffed tummy. It was no lie. She shouldn’t have had that second helping.

‘In that case’ – Aiden got to his feet – ‘I’ll clear the dishes and sort the kitchen.’

‘I’ll help.’ Astrid stood with him, feeling quite emotional about the whole affair. The way they’d welcomed her into their family tradition of a Sunday roast, the way they’d made her feel like a part of the family rather than an outsider. The way Blake had laid himself bare to her…

‘Nonsense, let the boys do it,’ Cynthia said, her blue eyes suddenly sharp and astute as she took Astrid’s hand. ‘It’ll give us time to talk. Just the two of us.’

Yelp!

* * *

---