Authors: Ava Walsh
The first game of the new hockey season was exhilarating.
Piper jumped up and down next to Baxter, completely enthralled as her eyes followed Patrick from one end of the rink to the next. She could see his breath puffing into the air and watched a trickle of blood run down his lip where he had been elbowed by another player. The puck moved so quickly that she couldn't see who had it.
It was odd how fun hockey suddenly became, now that she had a certain player to keep her eye on and cheer on.
There were ten seconds left on the clock. The score was 2-1 in Uphoria's favor. The opposing team was vicious and it was only because of the goalie's skills that they hadn't scored more points. Piper could see Patrick's frustration mount with every passing second.
"He's got the puck, he's got the puck!" she screamed, clawing at Baxter's arm.
Baxter winced then laughed and cupped his mouth and hollered encouragement.
"Destroy them!" Piper screamed, caught up as the final second ticked by. "Kill them, kill them!"
Patrick slapped the puck hard as the opposing players went after him. It sailed through the air, a black disc against the white ice. The net caught it, bouncing it back into the goalie's head just as the buzzer rang, indicating the end of the game.
Piper stomped her feet and clapped her hands, whooping and hollering. Baxter grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around their private box, pressing fevered kisses to her neck and face. Piper grinned and laughed, glancing down at the rink. Patrick glared up at them, his wolfish lips pulled back in a grin. Once he caught Piper's eye he crooked his finger, beckoning her.
"I think Patrick wants us to wait until he can join us," she laughed, pushing Baxter away.
In response, Baxter grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the box. They were soon in the locker room.
It had been startling when Patrick first invited them in and being around all those naked or half-dressed Werewolves had made Piper red as a tomato and highly uncomfortable, but none of them gave her a second glance.
That was the Werewolf way. They weren't phased by nudity and certainly weren't attracted to a person that wasn't a possible mate.
"That was amazing!" Baxter gushed as he threw his arms around Patrick.
Piper hung back. Baxter and Patrick might have no problem with kissing when one or both of them were in the wolf forms, but fur was not a turn-on to her. The last thing she wanted was to be hacking up fur balls.
After Patrick removed his hockey gear and had retaken his human form, he pulled both of his mates to the shower to celebrate. They were individual cubicles, but it was still only afterward that Piper realized that his teammates would have been able to hear every single moan. Her face flushed as she toweled off and redressed.
"You wolves!" she shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. Sex maniacs, both of you."
"That's why you love us," Patrick chortled. "Besides, I didn't see you protesting. Quite the opposite, in fact."
The locker smelled like sweat, old shoes and wet dog, but it had emptied sometime while the three had been in the shower. Well, at least that was a relief. She turned to her boys, putting her hands on her hips.
"So, I heard that some place in British Columbia is going to host some of the Wolf League games this year?"
Patrick nodded, a grin spreading over his face. There was a split in his lower lip and bruises on his cheek, but violent games always seemed to make him more excited. "That's right. We're getting bigger, Piper. More and more people are wanting to see our games."
"Because you're like modern day gladiators," Piper grumbled, crossing the room for the first aid kit. "Let me take care of that lip."
"It also means that I'll be spending a lot of time away from home."
Piper turned back, frowning. Patrick languidly dressed, seemingly not paying attention to his two mates.
"Piper and I can fly out to watch the games," Baxter said.
"Well,
you
can at least. I've got a plane ticket for you to come visit me over there for a couple of weeks. We can look at hotel rooms when we get back to the apartment."
Piper pressed her lips together. Baxter got tickets, but she didn't? She tried not to be jealous–after all, Baxter hadn't been able to find a new job just yet, so he was available to go gallivanting off to British Columbia to see the games. She wasn't. At least not yet.
She cleared her throat. "I could take some time off at the gallery, you know. We're doing so well, I thought I could get an assistant or something that could keep an eye on things while I went to see your out-of-province games."
Patrick shook his head. "That's sweet of you, Piper, but I know you only come to these games because you feel obligated to. It's fine."
"No, I like hockey a lot more now!" Piper bounced on her toes. "I love watching you play."
"I think you like playing
after
he plays." Baxter laughed.
Piper wrinkled her nose at him. "No, I've come to really enjoy watching hockey. I think I like the blood a lot more than I used to."
Patrick burst into laughter. He laughed so hard and for so long that he had to sit down. Piper folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him to show she wasn't amused, although his full-bellied laughs were hard not to join with.
"You are too easy to tease," he said, finally catching his breath. "I've got tickets for you, too. And an assistant sounds like the perfect thing for you."
He strode over to her, hands clasping over her hips. He lifted her with more ease than she thought was possible; she was always amazed when he lifted her. Baxter was soon by his side and Patrick settled the witch onto both of their shoulders. Piper held one of Patrick's and one of Baxter's hands.
"I am so lucky to have you two," Patrick sighed.
Piper laughed. "I think I'm the lucky one!"
"Nope, it's me."
Patrick growled playfully as they exited the locker room. "We're all lucky. How about we agree to that?"
"Agreed," Piper and Baxter said in unison.
Piper squeezed her mates' hands, smiling, feeling so happy she thought her heart might burst.
*****
THE END
Bonus Book 36: The Shifting Billionaire's Bride
By:
Eliza Moon
Description
An event planner with a lonely heart PLUS a billionaire alpha too hot to touch PLUS a dark secret burried in the past!
When you have been burned in love too many times to count, you eventually make a promise to yourself that you will never let yourself be hurt again. Next time you will be more careful. You will protect your heart with everything you have, just to keep it from getting broken again.
Melissa Cleary was one of the many women around the world that had made this promise to herself. For years she kept this promise, never letting herself get close enough to the fire to get burned. That is, until she met Clayton Masters.
Somehow Clayton charged through all the barriers, even the ones he had created for himself. The only problem was that Clayton had a secret. A secret that could kill someone if they got too close. Clayton has distanced himself from the opposite sex, not to spare his own heart, but to keep them from meeting the same fate as his mother.
Without realizing what is happening the two of them find themselves, not only close enough to the fire to be burned, but standing inside of the burning flames. Will the fire they ignite in each other consume them in love or will their hearts be burned to ash?
Melissa stood in the corner of the banquet hall watching her catering event unfold. She kept a constant eye on the food levels, monitored the servers and listened intently to the voices of her prep cooks and chef in her earpiece, as they updated her on what was going on in the kitchen. She scanned the room, not a thing was out of place, everything was perfect.
This is why I am one of the most sought after event planners in The Valley.
She smiled proudly. Then something caught her eye. One of the women hanging off of the event benefactor’s arm was waving her over. Melissa made her way over to the small group, offering an obligated smile to the other guests as she passed by.
“How can I help you today, Miss?” Melissa lifted her chin and straightened her back. She kept a smile on her face in spite of the fact that these rich, superficial women made her guts whirl. The tall, dark featured one looked down her nose at her, plastering on the fakest smile of the century.
“Yes, I was just curious as to whether you were the event planner or not?” The woman spoke down to her in a fake Brazilian accent.
“Yes, Miss, I am the event planner.”
The woman laughed a loud obnoxious laugh, joined in by a chorus of giggles from the other women in the group. Melissa ignored their judgemental laughter and smiled in spite of her loathing. She squared her shoulders and glowered at the fake Brazilian woman.
“I told you, Louisa,” one of the women said, “If you want to find the event planner, just look for the pathetic, chunky blob standing alone in the corner creeping on everyone.”
Another wave of giggles started among the woman and her friends.
Melissa ran her tongue over her top teeth and folded her hands neatly in front of her. She looked up at the man that was surrounded by these materialistic wenches. His face was composed, as if he wasn’t listening to a single word the women on his arms were saying. He just watched her. He was studying her reactions to the snide remarks of the women around her. All the more reason to keep her cool.
“I’m sorry, Miss, was there something that I can help you with?” Melissa bit back a string of curse words. Louisa smiled sweetly at her.
“Yes, I had a question,” Louisa looked around at the other women before continuing.
“I just wanted to say that the halibut was way over-cooked. You need to find a new cook.”
Melissa could hear the low snickers of the women behind her. She let out a long sigh and looked Louisa straight in the eyes.
“Well, I am sorry to hear that, but we served salmon tonight, not halibut. Second, I’m not sure it really matters how well your food is cooked since the toilet eats it for you.” Melissa clenched her jaw tightly and gave a short nod.
“But, thank you for your input. I will let the cook know.” She gave a satisfied smile and looked at each of their faces.
“Was that all you needed?”
The women around her all had grave expressions on their pretty little faces. Louisa was looking up at the benefactor, pleading for support, but he gave none. He continued to stare at Melissa with a stern expression on his face, but Melissa swore she could see laughter dancing around in his honey colored eyes.
When there was no response from the group of women, Melissa gave an over-exaggerated smile and turned to leave. She made her way over to the bar and let out a sigh as she leaned, ever so slightly, against the wall. The kitchen staff had just given her a five-minute ETA on the desserts. The bartender took one look at Melissa and laughed.
“You all right over there?” Taesha chuckled, walking over to the sidebar.
“You look like you’re about to kill somebody.” She mouthed a thank you to one of the bus boys as he dropped off a flat of freshly washed wine glasses. She grabbed the flat and set it down on the sidebar, facing Melissa, as she whipped a towel off the counter and started drying the glasses.
“One of the guests didn’t like the halibut,” Melissa bit back her smile and continued to scan the crowd. Taesha raised an eyebrow and started a new row of glasses.
“Aren’t we serving salmon?” Taesha let out a quiet giggle, shaking her head.
“Todd should get a kick out of it. He hates these people as much as I do, if not more.”
Exhaustion hung on every word that left Melissa’s lips. Taesha smiled reassuringly.
“Then why take these jobs?” Taesha tilted her head to the side. “There are enough mid-class events to keep us busy until we retire. We don’t have to deal with the stuck-up rich people if we don’t want to.”
Taesha glared at Melissa expectantly. Melissa took a deep breath.
“Do you like the BMW you are driving?” Melissa finally looked over at Taesha, who had a knowing smirk on her narrow face. Melissa smiled brightly. “That is why we take these events.” Melissa could feel eyes on her, she scanned the room. The benefactor was looking right at her. He leaned over to Louisa’s ear and then offered a nod to the other women.
Melissa watched as he walked across the banquet hall, shaking hands and smiling politely, but saying quick goodbyes as he made his way toward her. Watching him walk across the floor was like watching a dance. He was radiating confidence and grace. It was beautiful. He had finally reached Melissa and held out his hand.
“Hello. I’m Clayton Masters,” Melissa forced a smile and took his hand. He lifted her hand to his lips, then released her. Her skin burned where his lips had grazed her skin. She could feel her face grow hot.
“Hello, Mr. Masters. I hope the event is what you expected?” Melissa’s voice came out an octave higher than she was used to. She glared at Taesha who was laughing at her.
“Yes, it is perfect.” A smile played on the corners of his full lips.
“I’m sorry if I offended your date earlier,” Melissa swallowed slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. His presence was very imposing. She wasn’t easily intimidated but he was making her very nervous.
“No worries. I probably would have done the same thing. Louisa just likes to cause trouble,” his smile grew bigger as he spoke.
“I wanted to thank you for planning the event for me. It has been a great success. Thank you.”
He gave Melissa another brilliant smile and offered a polite nod to Taesha, who had been eyeing him from behind the bar, then turned and left.
“Well, that was interesting.” Taesha tilted her head as she watched Clayton walk away.
“That is a very fine specimen of a man if I must say so myself.” She licked her bottom lip and got back to setting up the glasses.
“That he is,” Melissa sighed and went back to observing the event.