The Langfield Brothers: Box Set

51. Aiden

FIFTY-ONE

AIDEN

Lennox slams the radio dial in the back of the limo, and the car goes silent. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

I affect an easy smile. “They aren’t wrong. I was slow. And Keegan is awesome. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Aiden Langfield, you are the best center the game has ever seen. There is no comparison. Keegan is good because you’ve been putting hours in on the ice with him, training him, working out with him, studying with him. All so your team will be better.”

I grip her thigh and squeeze, chuckling. “Love when you get all protective of me, Princess, but I promise, my ego can take a little ribbing from commentators.”

She doesn’t want to let it go. She’s assessing me, a line between her brows, trying to surmise if I really am okay. Since we’re headed to her birthday bash right now, and because I have big plans for afterward, I focus on those things, keeping my thoughts light, hoping she can sense it and let this go.

It’s been one hell of a month since I proposed on the ice. Our friends were supportive, and my family was ecstatic, but her parents were ambivalent. So tonight will be interesting.

We’ve been too busy over the last few weeks to focus on them. To focus on anything but all the good in our lives. When Lennox told me about the job offer from Beckett, I couldn’t help the surprised chuckle that left me. My brother, always making things happen for his family. And this move wasn’t just for me—though I’m grateful he’s giving her this chance. No, this was for Lennox. My brothers have welcomed Lennox back into the fold without so much of a blink of an eye, and that means everything to me. For so long, I’ve felt like I was making my way alone. That I was merely here for their entertainment. But as always, Beckett showed me that he’d been watching.

He showed up, and along with the pure joy the rest of my siblings exuded when I proposed to Lennox, it’s clear they’ve all got my back. So despite the mounting pressure in my chest over her parents’ disapproval and the commentators take on my performance, I’m choosing to keep the positive at the forefront of my mind.

Lennox loves her new job. When she gave her notice to her boss, she was at peace. For the first time, she realized she wasn’t running from one job to the next. Instead, she was settling into a career. She seems calmer now. Happy.

When the two of us aren’t working our asses off, we’re together. The way it should be.

I squeeze her hand. She’s glowing tonight. There’s some type of shimmery blush on her cheeks, her hair is twisted back in a long pink braid, and she has on a deep pink gown that hugs all her curves.

“Do you remember our first date?”

Lennox’s face scrunches adorably in confusion. “The pizza shop?”

I laugh. “Not when we were kids.” I squeeze her thigh again. “Though I love that you remember that. No, I’m talking about at the park.”

“That was not our first date,” she huffs.

“Oh, it was. You just didn’t know it yet.”

“We were planning your wedding to another woman.”

Her annoyance shouldn’t make me smile. “No, you were planning my wedding to another woman. I was envisioning you walking down that aisle to me.”

The limo comes to a stop in front of the club, which means I only have a few minutes more of her all to myself. So I cuff the back of her neck, pulling her to me.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” I whisper against her mouth.

Hers tips up in a smile. “You catching feelings for me, Hockey Boy?”

I bite her lip and murmur, “Something like that.”

Ten minutes in, it’s clear that this is going to be a bad night. First off, her parents have gone with a black and silver color scheme. Not even remotely Lennox’s style.

Second, Ryder and his band are set up on the stage. It appears Jackson Kennedy will stop at nothing to push that man on his daughter, even two days before her wedding.

Ruthless.

My blood heats, and I break into a sweat as I work to tamp down the pressure building inside me.

When Sara appears out of nowhere, screaming “Bitch, it’s almost your birthday,” I guide Lennox toward her best friend, grateful to have a few minutes to stew without ruining Lennox’s night.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Brooks asks as the girls disappear into a throng on the dance floor.

The happiness radiating off her helps ease the pounding of my heart.

Tomorrow, we play New York for the first time since my fight with Vincent Lukov. He didn’t end up with a breathing tube like I’d have liked, so he’s slated to play. That means there’ll be drama. It’s all he knows. After our last altercation, one would think that rather than professional athletes paid to win a game, we’re Roman fighters meant to fight to the death.

I’d win. There’s no question.

Without taking my eyes off Lennox, I promise, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Irritation runs up my spine. How the hell is he so calm all the time? The Lukovs didn’t just fuck with me. Our uncle fucked with him too.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I turn and study his reaction. I want him to get angry. For his heart to beat wildly out of his chest like mine does.

Am I really the only one of us Langfields who has to live with these overwhelming swells of emotion?

Sure, my brothers have snapped before. But in general, they remain steady under pressure. I, on the other hand, handle it by getting loud. By singing. Anything that keeps me from having to feel the buzzing within my body that makes me want to jump out of my own skin.

Brooks turns his attention to the dance floor. “If he lays a hand on you, then yeah, I’ll be ready.”

My throat gets tight. I was not expecting that kind of response. “I can fight my own battles.”

He squeezes my shoulder. “But you shouldn’t have to. Your future father-in-law is headed our way, though, so tell me—you fighting this one on your own, or am I sticking by your side?”

I flex my hands, then button my jacket, feigning cool even as my heart takes off again. “I’m good.”

With a terse nod, Brooks heads to the bar where our brothers and their wives have congregated.

On the dance floor, Lennox is laughing and smiling with Hannah, Sara, and Ava. It eases my mind a little to know she’s having a good time. I can handle her asshole father, so long as she’s smiling.

As he approaches, I turn my attention to him. His blondish hair is slicked back, and his black tuxedo is impeccable. Everything about him screams money and misery.

The complete opposite of his daughter.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mumbles, rather than giving me a true greeting.

“Of course. My fiancée is smiling. That’s all I need.”

With a grunt, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “She won’t be your fiancée for long.”

I can’t help but smirk. “True. Soon, she’ll be my wife.” I pull at the sleeve of my tuxedo jacket, exposing the face of my Rolex. It’s Bolts blue, of course. Langfield Blue, as Beckett likes to call it. “In approximately thirty-six hours.”

Scowling, Jackson steps back so he’s elbow to elbow with me, his focus turning to the dance floor. “That won’t be happening once I tell my daughter the deal is off.”

I will my heart to beat steadily and swallow past the lump in my throat. “Deal?”

He’s the one smirking now. He knows he has me. The man can smell the blood in the water. Fuck. His shoulders shake as he silently chuckles. “You think I don’t know this is all a sham? My daughter had no interest in marriage until I laid out the terms for her trust. Then, suddenly, she’s dating the ex she dumped without even a backward glance.”

The words hit me in the gut, just like he hoped, but I don’t let it show. “Or we reconnected and realized what a mistake we made. Realized that we don’t want to wait another minute to start the rest of our lives together.”

Jackson leans in close and clasps my shoulder. “I guess we’ll see which of us is right. I’ll let my daughter know she doesn’t have to marry you to get her trust. Have a good night.”

Anxiety twists my stomach so fiercely I worry I might throw up right here on my shoes. With a deep breath in, then back out, I focus on Lennox again. Before Jackson tells her she no longer has to marry me, I need to tell her why she does. And hope like hell that I’m enough for her.