Page 63 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son
“I assume he’s better at getting NHL players to behave than the girls,” Mamma says to Dmitri.
“We always thought he was pretty scary,” Dmitri says.
Pappa whirls around and jabs a finger at his face.
“He’s still pretty scary,” Dmitri says quickly.
Pappa puffs out his chest. “That’s right girls. Listens to this man.”
Linnea and Olivia stare at Dmitri, then shake their head.
“I thought you’d picked a smarter husband,” Linnea says finally.
“Why didn’t you pick a smarter husband?” Olivia echoes.
Horror flashes across Dmitri’s face.
“He’s plenty smart,” I say.
“He thinks Pappa is scary.”
“I am scary,” Pappa exclaims.
“Then you’ll get along wonderfully,” Mamma says, slipping her arms around Pappa and kissing him.
“Ew!” Olivia hollers.
“Ew!” Linnea squeals.
“Couples kiss,” Pappa says.
“One day you’ll kiss someone,” Mamma adds.
Olivia wrinkles her nose and shakes her head violently.
“Oskar kisses Dmitri,” Linnea says.
Olivia narrows her gaze. “No joke?”
“Of course,” Dmitri says, which I guess is better than saying he doesn’t.
“That’s disgusting,” Olivia says.
“Young lady!” Mamma scolds.
“Is not disgusting,” Dmitri says, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pulling me against his chest.
I’m his shield now.
Olivia eyes him skeptically. Pappa follows the exchange with way too much interest.
“You really kiss, Oskar?” Olivia asks.
“Absolutely,” Dmitri says firmly. “Sometimes.”
“You’re so lucky, Oskar,” Linnea sighs, batting her eyelashes at my husband.
“I’m the lucky one,” Dmitri says lightly, pressing a kiss to my temple.
