Page 1 of Best Man
1
Niko
Pungent fumes of jet fuel lingered in the morning air. Aleksander Nikolaev stood at the bottom of the boarding stairs with an eager smile, his dark and wavy hair blowing in the warm breeze. He welcomed his teammates and their wives onto the Gulfstream behind him, its twin Rolls-Royce jet engines idling with a high-pitched hiss.
“I amsostoked for this, bro,” Dane DeHardt said while he waited his turn to board. The Devils captain eyed the Gulfstream G650’s angular yet elegant curves. “Fuck, she’s gorgeous.”
“Wait until you see the inside,” Niko said enticingly. Although he still spoke with a Russian accent—realistically, he’d never lose it—he’d perfected his English in the three years since he’d come to America to play for the Devils.
The men were dressed sharply but comfortably for the occasion—sport jackets, no ties—and the ladies, as always, looked gorgeous.
“Way togo,Niko!” Dane’s wife, Austen, cheered. She jumped to her tiptoes to give the six-foot-three forward a hug. “You really hooked it up for everyone!”
“Don’t mention it,” Niko said humbly. “It’s going to be a great weekend.”
He’d been honored when Big Rig asked him to be his best man and he took his role in the wedding seriously. That was why he’d chartered the Gulfstream: to deliver the Devils and their dates, eighteen passengers in total, to Montana a day before the farm wedding.
The last two in line to board the jet were Katerina and her husband, Derek Reaves. Unlike the other passengers, his older sister did notlook so impressed by his show of generosity.
“You’re nuts, you know that?” she said before she grasped the stairway railing and made her way up the stairs.
Niko chuckled. He thought she worried about money too much. They weren’t poor anymore.
“You really shouldn’t have, Niko,” Derek said with a wink, so his double meaning wouldn’t be lost. In secret, “Reavo” was thrilled, too, and he sneaked his brother-in-law a low five.
Niko bounded up the stairs last and saluted the flight crew. He made his way into the jet’s stylish, cream colored interior where everyone was abuzz with excitement as they discovered the jet’s luxurious amenities and staked out their seats. Sure, the Dallas Devils flew around the country on their own team plane, but that jet—a 737—wasnothinglike this. This state-of-the-art jet was like flying in a billionaire’s personal living room, complete with comfortable leather recliners and plush divans, tables to eat or work at, flatscreen TVs, and a selection of fruits, chocolates, and other top-tier refreshments.
In the aft cabin, Niko found Katerina and Derek sitting side-by-side at a table for four. He pointed at the empty seats opposite theirs. “Can I join you two?” he asked.
“Of course,” Katerina answered.
“Thank you.” Niko’s wide shoulders melted into the comfortable leather recliner. Now twenty-two years old, the all-star had fully filled out his man’s frame. He was thick and strong and impossible to knock off the puck which, combined with his scoring prowess, made him a lethal offensive threat on the ice.
They didn’t have to wait long before the Gulfstream began to roll down the taxiway as casually as a car on the open road. That was one of the many perks of flying private—there was no sitting around on the tarmac, endlessly waiting for the ground traffic ahead to clear out before you could depart. A minute later, they sat parked on the runway, waiting for takeoff.
Purposely avoiding the view outside the window, Katerina wore a look of discomfort and reached for Derek’s hand.
“I got you, babe,” Derek whispered.
“Nervous?” Niko asked her, in that half-concerned, half-teasing way that only a brother can manage.
“Yes! You know I hate flying.”
“Don’t be nervous,” he said reassuringly. “This jet is super fast.”
“Fast?” Her nose wrinkled. “So what if it’s fast? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It should. Fast means less time in the air,” Niko explained with a shrug.
The pilot slowly throttled the engines higher. The turbofans began to whine as they spooled, but the quiet cabin kept their rising drone to a polite whisper.
With a spreading grin, Niko added, “It also means onecrazyfast takeoff.”
“Oh, lord,” Katerina murmured with dread.
The pilot bumped the throttle to the max. Now the engines roared, and the sporty jet trembled and shook in place with a fierce kinetic energy, like a beast chomping at the bit to be free.
“Here we go!” Niko shouted as the pilot released the brake.
