Page 76 of Grudge Puck
The interrogation would've continued, but the doorbells jangled as the shop door opened.
We both whipped around to see the two men enter.
This time I saw him walk in? My heart swelled fondly and I felt as light as air. Beau, dressed casually but fashionably, wore a huge smile and couldn't keep his eyes off me.
“Camille,” he said at last—and I could barely hold his gaze. His eyes were so ravenous, so powerful, so demanding that Ihadto look away.
I knew it then: he couldn't wait to get me all to himself. He couldn't wait to run his hands, his mouth and tongue over every inch of my body—instead of just his eyes.
“Hi Beau,” I answered quietly, my throat aching shut. “Good to see you again.”
I turned my eyes to the guy Beau had brought with him. I'd expected Piper's boyfriend, but the man wasn't Jack Cameron. He wasn't Hunter, either.
“And who's this?” I asked.
Chapter 23
Calling in a Favor
Beau
Once I finally got back to New York, I took a cab to Dave Leroux's apartment building in Brooklyn and gave him a call.
He came out slowly, checking over his shoulder, looking like he half-expected me to jump out of the bushes and attack him on the sidewalk.
I rolled the window down. “Hey Leroux. Over here.”
He spotted me and neared. “What's up, Bradford? What's this about?”
I climbed out and explained.
First, I told him how much I hated to ask him for that favor—because, as far as his hit went? To me, the matter was already solved. He didn't owe me any apologies or favors.
If anyone needed to apologize, it was me. I told him I was sorry for the mind games I'd played in the media and on the ice last week. I told him what Ireallythought about him: that he's a damn solid player with a great hockey mind, and not to give one single fuck for a second about who thought he might be overpaid, because he'snotoverpaid, end of story.
And then I told him how I'd met a girl I liked. One that was helping me turn things around, on and off the ice. And how much she meant to me, and how I wanted to make her happy.
Leroux was a married man—thus a bit of a softie, just like Hunter. I was counting on that.
“So, I'm not asking you for this favor because of the hit, but like … I'm reaching out to you for help because you seem like a good guy and I can't do it on my own. I need help, Dave.”
He shrugged. “Well uh, alright, what is it?”
I told him.
“Alright. Sounds easy enough.”
“Thanks, dude. It'll mean so much to her.”
“When do you wanna do it?” he asked.
“You got time right now? We're in the neighborhood.”
“Sure. Let's do it.”
We climbed into the cab and took off for Velvet Bakery.
***
