Puck Princess (Houston Scythes Hockey #2)

44. Owen

44

OWEN

“Aren’t there people we can pay to do this?” Lance asks dryly as he ties off a balloon. Or attempts to, anyway. Every balloon he’s touched has either popped or squealed around Coach Coleman’s backyard, deflating before Lance could get it in a secure knot.

“Why would I pay someone when I can just make you do it?” Kennedy is standing on a step stool, hanging streamers from a golden arch.

She kicked off her heels and is barefoot. Her hair is curled and she’s wearing a sage green sun dress that looks great against her dark hair. It’s not that I’m looking, but I know for a fact that Lance is . His preoccupation with watching Kennedy’s every move is the culprit of his failed attempt to blow up and tie off balloons.

“Though it would be nice if you moved a little faster,” she bristles.

“Why don’t you blow up balloons and I’ll hang the streamers?” Lance bites back.

“Because you’re full of more hot air than I am.” she shrugs a shoulder and shoots him a cute yet lethal smile.

I shake my head as I reach for another balloon. In terms of work, this is the first job I’ve had in over a week.

Ever since the Spencer scandal went up in flames—we can thank Kennedy for that—Coach felt it was best that I steer clear of the arena too. He called it “a professional precaution and safety measure.” I call it “paid leave and the first vacation I’ve had from hockey in years.”

It also means I have time to help Kennedy throw a baby shower for Callie. Not that it’s how I would’ve chosen to spend this weekend. My first thought was to bar the apartment door against my sister and Callie’s cousin and keep her in our bed all weekend long.

But before I could do that, Kennedy burst in, armed with a Pinterest board and a dream. I enlisted Lance with free beer because there was no way I could handle party prep alone. But before I could even mention the free beer, Lance heard Kennedy would be there and grabbed his keys.

“You have the envelope right?” I ask in between breaths. I’m getting a little light headed with all this huffing and puffing. I’m regretting not hunting down a helium tank.

“What envelope?” Lance asks.

“The doctor wrote the baby’s gender in an envelope. We’re going to open it during the party.”

“Obviously, I have it.” Kennedy slaps her ass. It takes me a second to realize she was actually tapping her hip, where her sundress has built-in pockets.

Lance’s eyes pop, and he loses another balloon. This one does a loop-de-loop and splats on his nose.

“Have you even tied off one balloon yet, Craven?” she snaps.

“Maybe if you stopped screaming at me, I could.”

“Maybe if you stopped staring at her ass, you could,” I whisper. He shoves me, making the balloon in my hands pop, too.

“Seriously, you guys, the arch is going to look stupid if there’s an uneven number of ba—” Kennedy turns on the step stool, but she loses her footing. Her eyes go wide as she falls sideways. But just before she can crash to the ground, Lance jumps up and catches her in midair.

Kennedy stares up a Lance, who is taking full advantage of his position over her to gaze down the low neckline of her dress.

“Oh my God! This is beautiful!” Callie’s voice cuts through the tension. She has both hands over her mouth, but I can tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she’s smiling. She turns in a circle, her coral and yellow dress spinning with her. I think I’m in love with a Disney Princess. I’m waiting for cartoon birds to tie her hair back into a messy bun.

Then Callie stops, her eyes narrowed at Kennedy… who is still being cradled by Lance.

“Surprise!” Kennedy sounds. Then her face scrunches, and she smacks Lance on the chest. “Put me down.”

“You’re welcome,” he mutters. As he’s lowering her, he fake drops her, making her yelp.

She slaps him again. “You’re such a dick!”

I ignore them, walking over to Callie. She looks like a kid in an ice cream shop. Her eyes don’t know where to land. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this.”

“Are you happy?” I ask.

She fists the collar of my shirt and pulls me down for a kiss. “Immeasurably.”

“I did most of it,” Lance boasts, which makes Kennedy slap him yet again.

“But I did the cake pops!” Summer waltzes through the back door, depositing Nicky into my arms so she can hug Callie.”

“And the food is all yours truly.” Coach appears behind her, spatula in hand. “I got brisket in the smoker. There’s also potatoes and salads and all kinds of good stuff.”

“Y’all are going to make me cry.” Callie smiles, completely beside herself.

“Not yet!” Kennedy warns. “Save your tears for the gender reveal. You’re going to need them.”

Callie actually bounces in excitement, her hands on her bump. “I can’t wait to know if it’s a Violet or a Felix.”

I wrinkle my nose. “You mean a Winter or a Puck?”

Summer actually gags. “For the love of all that is pucking holy, please do not name a human child Puck.”

“He’s not serious,” Callie assures her. Then she whirls on me. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

“I guess we’ll find out when you’re loopy on painkillers and I’m alone with the birth certificate.”

Callie’s glare is terrifying enough that I’m about to admit that I’m kidding. Then Dax bursts through the door. “Let’s throw this baby a fucking rager!”

The rest of the team streams in behind him, carrying an array of gifts.

Dax, of course, has a keg.

“Daxton! You did not bring beer to a baby shower.” Kennedy looks like she’s going to explode.

Dax takes his aviators off. “Why not? I’m not pregnant. And neither is Owen.”

Kennedy lets out a sigh of exasperation, and I glance at Callie. She’s smiling and shaking her head. I know we’re thinking the same thing. These are our best friends? Really?

The shower is more of a family barbeque, everyone laughing and eating and playing yard games for ridiculous prizes that Kennedy bought at the dollar store. After we eat, Kennedy insists that all of the guys sit their half-drunk asses down so we can open the gifts.

Callie screams in cuteness overload at tiny Scythes jerseys and a pair of crochet slippers that look like ice skates, but my smiles are all for her.

Who would have known that pregnant Callie would be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen? It doesn’t help that her dress is cinched just under her chest, and she looks fucking delectable. All I can think about is taking it off later.

Once the gifts are gone, Kennedy clears her throat.

“Alright, I think it’s time for the big reveal. As most of you know, the gender of the baby has been a secret. Only the OB and I know whether it’s a little Miss or Mister in there.”

“Just tell me I am having a great nephew so I can drink to my future hockey center!” Coach bellows. His grin and his words make it obvious he’s done some inspecting of the keg. If I’m being real, it’s good to see his face cherry-tinted from alcohol instead of rage on the ice.

Everyone laughs and Kennedy goes on. “I asked Callie how she wants to do it, and we came up with something we thought was pretty appropriate. Owen?”

I look around, unaware I had to do anything. Then I see Lance bring out a hockey stick and a puck. He hands both of them to me.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask. Then I realize the puck is weird.

“Do I really have to explain this to you?” Kennedy rolls her eyes. “You’re supposed to hit the puck with the stick.”

“You follow all that, Sharpe?” Dax asks with a cackle.

“Fuck you,” I shoot back, flipping him off.

“When the puck hits the fence,” she goes on, “it’s going to explode. You’ll know by the color of the powdered glitter what you’re having.”

It seems a little silly to me, but Callie is excited to the point of squeezing the blood out of my hand.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

“Why the hell not?” I make my way to the middle of the yard, setting the puck down in the grass, which is a first. “Never have I ever…” I shake my head with a smile and everyone laughs again.

Then, like I would on the ice, I breathe in. Hold. And shoot.

The puck flies at the wooden fence, hitting it dead in the middle. It shatters and cloud-like powdery glitter fills the air.

It’s pink.

Everyone loses their shit behind me, but I stand there in the middle of the yard, frozen.

Callie runs to my side, throwing her arms around me. She’s laughing and has tears brimming her eyes.

“A girl,” I breathe, I think for the first time since I hit the puck.

“It’s a girl!” She cups my face in her hands, grinning. But as she looks up at me, her smile fades. “Are you disappointed?”

The shock wanes and reality starts to set in.

It’s a girl.

Callie is having a girl.

My girl.

Holy fucking shit.

Love pours into my chest, and I feel like I’m levitating. I press my hand to her stomach, my chest expanding. “We’re having a girl…”

She swipes the tears from her cheeks. “We are.”

I kiss her again until we feel everyone huddle around us. Callie hugs her uncle, who has already forgotten all about training up his future center and is going on about how spoiled his granddaughter is going to be.

Lance shakes my hand before hugging me. “Congrats, man. I have all sisters and it’s going to be a shitshow for a guy like you, I’ll tell you that. But you’re going to love it.”

Heath nudges me in the side. “All the time you spend perfecting your hair in the mirror will come in handy now that you’ll be doing pigtails and going to tea parties.”

“You better fucking believe it!” I say. “And your ass won’t be invited.”

Everyone filters back towards the dessert table and the keg, but I snatch Callie’s wrist.

Her face crinkles into an adorable frown and it’s a miracle I don’t scoop her up and run her straight into the house. Instead, I tip my head towards the house in silent question. She comes with me without a word.

I lead her through the back door and into the kitchen. I slide the patio door closed and can still hear everyone outside talking, but it’s muffled. For the first time in hours, it’s almost quiet.

I let out a breath, and Callie does too. Then we smile and kiss again.

“Can I ask you something?” she says as we pull apart. “Are you even a little upset that it’s a girl?”

“Are you kidding me? My heart exploded like the puck when I saw all the pink glitter. Callie, I couldn’t be happier. I am so in love with her already. And even more in love with you.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, biting back a smile. “Really?”

“Really.” I rest my hands on her hips, tugging her against me. “And… I want you.”

“Here?” she whispers, looking around. “Now?”

“Here and now.”

Anywhere. Anytime.

I think she’s going to tell me there’s no way in hell, but she checks to make sure everyone is still outside before she whispers, “Where?”

I grab her hand again and pull her down the hall. Coach Coleman’s house is a six-thousand square foot ranch, sprawled out over three acres. There are five guest rooms, all of which are currently sitting empty. I pull Callie into one of them and close the door.

As soon as I lock it, Callie starts to change her tune. She wraps her arms around her body, shrinking away from me. “Someone is going to find us. Or hear us. They’ll notice we’re missing!”

I tug on the string around her cinched waist. “This house is so big that they’re practically in another zip code. They aren’t going to know.”

“What if they walk by the window?” I follow her worried gaze to the large picture window and growl.

She’s not wrong. There are no blinds in here and the window looks out directly onto the backyard. I can see Dax’s head bobbing around along the bottom of the frame.

I do a slow circle of the room, freezing when I see my target. A mischievous smile crawls across my face and I pull her into the empty walk-in closet.

“Owen! You can’t be seri—” She stops talking when I get on my knees and lift her dress around her waist, pressing a kiss to the soft lace covering her.

Even through her panties, I can feel how wet and responsive she is.

“Do you want me to stop?” I grin into her, knowing full well what the answer is going to be.

“I’ll kill you.” She tugs on my hair with one hand and presses the other one against the wall.

“If I make you come?”

“If you don’t. ”

Well, dying in my coach’s closet isn’t on my list of things to do this weekend, so I guess I better get on that.

I use a finger to tug the lace of her underwear aside and press my tongue against her clit. She lets out a loud moan before she slaps a hand over her mouth. “Holy fuck. I can’t believe we are doing this right now…”

“I can’t believe we ever stop.” I sink two fingers into her as my tongue flicks and sucks and teases her into a quivering mess.

“Owen!” She cries out my name, and I reach up and cover her mouth with my free hand before everyone within a three-mile radius hears her orgasming.

Then again, I wouldn’t mind. I love knowing she’s mine. I’d love it just as much if everyone else knew, too.

She curls her fingers through my hair, rocking her hips against my mouth. I lap at her releases until her legs give out. Then I lower her gently to the floor and push her dress up around her waist.

“You’re giving me a closet kink.” I kiss her bump and each of her hips. “I won’t be able to get dressed in the morning without thinking of you.”

She strokes my jawline, scraping her nails through my stubble. She tilts my face to hers, and I’m in awe of the flush on her cheeks, the dark expanse of her pupils. Nothing will ever beat seeing Callie Coleman absolutely lost for me.

I need her. Bad.

I waste no time undoing my belt and slacks, fumbling with the zipper. I barely get them down around my thighs before she’s tugging on my shirt, dragging me up her body.

“Now,” she breathes, hooking a leg over my hip. “I need you now.”

“So impatient.”

“People are waiting for us,” she pants, grinding against me until I think we’re both seeing stars. I’m not sure her hostess duties are the only reason she’s so antsy. “We should be out there. It’s our party…”

“It’s our party, and we can fuck if we want to.” I press myself to her opening, letting us both languish in the moment where she starts to part for me. Where we’re fitting together, where we’re both tensed with anticipation.

“Please,” she whimpers.

And I can’t wait another second.

I sink into her with a muffled curse against her shoulder. She claws at my back. What started as a quickie in a closet is turning into something more.

That’s how it’s always been with Callie. More .

I push into her.

She tightens around me.

I let out a deep groan.

She whimpers.

“I want to stay here. Inside of you. With you.” I push her hair back from her forehead as I drive into her. “But I can’t stop.”

“Please don’t,” she begs.

“You feel too good.”

She’s nodding in agreement, her eyes closed and her head tipped back. She’s arching her hips and taking me deeper, fluttering around me until I’m not even trying to hold back.

I pick up speed, her legs wrapped around me, and we both come the fuck undone.

Three minutes later, we’re more or less put together and standing in the kitchen.

“Your pants are still unbuttoned.” She touches my pants, which has me itching for another round already.

“You should see your hair,” I tease.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Callie attempts to use the sheen on the microwave as a mirror.

Nothing at all. She is perfect.

Suddenly, the door opens and all the guys walk in.

Heath looks slowly from me to Callie and back again. “Hey, Sharpe… if you’re not too busy, we got plans.”

“Busy doing what? We aren’t busy. We’re just chilling.”

So smooth. And so obvious.

Lance bites back a smirk, and I want to pop him in the face.

“What numbnuts here is trying to say is,” Dax cuts in, “if ya’ll are done fucking each other’s brains out, we want to hit Pour Boys for a celebratory beer.”

Callie tucks herself behind me. I can practically feel the heat of her cheeks through my shirt.

“I can’t just leave my own baby shower.”

“Why not?” Lachlan asks. “We ate, you opened gifts, we know you’re going to have a girl. You need a beer. Hell, I need a beer for you.”

“I think he’s going to need more than one,” Heath agrees.

“Guys, I can’t?—”

“Go.” Callie turns around. Her hair is noticeably smoother than it was a second ago, but she still looks as gorgeous as ever. “For real. You deserve it, and I’m worn out anyway.”

“I bet she is,” Heath mumbles. Lance elbows him.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” She nods, and I can tell she means it.

Dax gives Callie’s shoulders a little shake. “Best wifey ever!”

Then I’m ushered away in a wave of pre-gamed hockey players.

As we load into Heath’s three-row SUV, I glance back and see Callie standing on the porch.

As pathetic as it sounds, I already miss her.