Page 9 of The C*ck Down the Block

Chris lifted my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. “You were fucking spectacular out there. I’m sorry it was such a paparazzi shit show, and I swear I’ll make it up to you for the rest of the night.”

I wasn’t going to say no to that. Especially when he was giving me the sparkly-eyed puppy dog look again. “Thank you. But I still want that drink and you better reveal somebody’s deepest darkest secret life creating cakes that look like octopuses or something equally as crazy, or this night will be a total dud.”

Everett sidled up next two us with a drink in each hand. “What’s that about octo-pussies?”

“We aren’t talking about your sex life, buddy.” I patted Everett on the shoulder as if in sympathy. If anyone had ever had a menage-a-oct or dallied in tentacle sex, it would be Kingman brother number three. He exuded sex appeal. Add to that he was a genuinely nice guy, and he had to beat women away with a stick.

“What else would we talk about? This event it boring as shit, and I haven’t found any single women to ply my charms upon. Wanna go home with me tonight, Trix?” He waggled one eyebrow at me just like he had at every event I’d ever been to with the Kingmans since middle school. The whole lot of them were flirting machines.

Chris literally took a swing at his younger brother. Everett ducked and then winked at me.

“You’re an insufferable flirt, and no. I’m here for the food and the gossip. But give it a few more minutes. There are still some french fries stuck out on the red carpet.” Everett looked toward the front entrance and back at me like I was speaking another language.

Hayes, brother number six, the adorable youngin’ that he was, popped into our small circle. “There’re french fries? I haven’t seen anything but these weird veggie appetizers. Oops, sorry, Trixie, vegan extraordinaire.”

I grabbed Hayes by the unbuttoned collar and gave him a little shake. “You get me some of those filthy vegan treats and I won’t tell your father.”

Hayes’s eyes went big and darted around. He lowered his voice, but it still had a squeak of fear. “Tell him what?”

“Everything.” I gave him my best demonic older sister crazy eyes. I didn’t have any siblings, but I’d grown up with these boys and could tease any of them as a well-practiced skill.

“Shit.” Hayes stood back up to his full monstrous height, almost taking my fake nails with him. “Veggie snacks coming right up.”

The vegan snacks and bubbly were doing their job. I’d just polished off an avocado roll when a presence that could only be described as a mountain of pure charisma and gridiron history descended upon us.

“Mr. Kingman.” Even though I’d known this man most of my life, and he’d been like a second father to me, I still always felt like I should curtsy or something. He just had such a, well, kingly presence. His stern eyes twinkled with a hint of humor, and even I could admit his graying hair just added to his rugged, formidable silver fox attractiveness. I wasn’t the only one who was surprised Bridger Kingman had never remarried.

“Call me Coach, Beatrix,” he grumbled, because we had this conversation every single time I saw him. “It’s good to see you here.”

“It’s a wonderful place, Mr. Kingman. Johnston and Marie did a fantastic job,” I replied, motioning around at the swanky restaurant that was filling with more bodies.

“We all know it was mostly Marie. The only thing Johnston knows how to make is a touchdown. If it wasn’t for his wife, he’d probably have starved to death before winning a ring.”

“Oh, I’ve heard the horror stories of his attempts to grill, and how he kept the Blizzards supplied with steak hockey pucks.” In fact, I had noticed none of our cup champion hockey players were in attendance so far tonight.

“I see my number one is keeping you company. He keeping his hands to himself?” Mr. Kingman asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. It felt like being simultaneously hugged and threatened by a bear.

“Always, sir.” Chris saluted his dad, the picture of innocence. I had to stifle a snort.

“Good.” Mr. Kingman nodded and placed a meaty hand on my shoulder. “But I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t.”

Chris nearly choked on his drink while I blushed a shade that rivaled pink dragon fruit. Mr. Kingman laughed heartily and clapped Chris on his back before sauntering away, leaving us in an awkward silence.

After a moment, Chris cleared his throat. “Sorry about my dad, Trix.”

“Your dad’s awesome,” I managed to choke out, trying to regain my composure. He was terrifying and comforting at the same time, like a freight train wearing a teddy bear costume.

A moment later the ding ding ding of a glass sounded, and Johnston and Marie Manniway stepped up onto a small platform at the side of the room. “Welcome, everyone, to the grand opening of the best steakhouse in Denver. I’m not great at speeches, so I’ll just say thanks for coming and dinner is served.”

Marie smiled up at his every word and he gave her a sweet kiss. I felt the tiniest pang in my heart at seeing how intensely in love the two of them were. I wanted that someday.

Ooph. That wasn’t something I’d ever say out loud.

The doors to the dining room opened and Chris extended his arm. “I happen to know there’s a staircase that leads up to a balcony with only a few tables. We can get a little peace and spy on the celebs and gossip all we want up there.”

“Ooh, I love a man with the inside scoop.”

Chris gave me a funny look, but only for a second, and then guided me to the stairs and up to a balcony with a perfect view of the room. The waitstaff were ready for us and two other couples, but the tables were separated by tufted dividers, so it felt almost private. We ordered and sipped our drinks, and finally I relaxed a little.

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