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Pucking Wild (Jacksonville Rays, #2)(107)

Author:Emily Rath

She laughs, but then her smile falls. “We all do what we need to do to survive. Can I ask who you’re running from?”

“My ex,” I reply. “I’m finally pushing him for a divorce after three years of separation and he’s not too happy about it.”

“I can imagine. Is he threatening you?”

“With fire and brimstone.” I gesture to my devil costume in another lame attempt at humor.

She doesn’t laugh.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I add quickly.

“Are there kids involved?”

“No.”

“Property? Business assets?”

“Both,” I reply.

“What are they worth to you?”

I hold her gaze, feeling so completely seen. She may look like Candace, but the voice is so different, the mannerisms, the warmth of feeling in her expressions. I set all my hesitation aside and give her my truth. “Not more than my life.”

She nods. “Good. Let them go, Tess. Things are replaceable. Job skills are transferable. Your life and your well-being are the only things that matter. Let everything else go.”

I tip my head, surveying her. “You’re not just a shrink, are you? You lived through this too.”

Now it’s her turn to shrug. “Josh is my second husband. He came along shortly after Addie and I got out of our last situation. He’s our hero,” she says with tears in her eyes. “Our guardian angel. He’s the one I was meant to find, you know? He’s the father my children were meant to have.”

“I’m happy for you,” I say. “And hey, about the other day when I was so rude—”

“Nope.” She raises a hand. “Don’t even go there. It’s forgotten.”

I sigh, leaning my hip against the chrome utility bench. “You know, you’re pretty cool.”

She smiles again. “I have a feeling so are you. Hey, do you like karaoke?”

“Am I singing or mocking those who sing?”

“Either,” she says with a laugh. “Both. We all go out to karaoke over at Rip’s on Thursday nights. You should come next week. I promise I won’t give you any more unsolicited life advice.”

I shift the soda box under my arm. “Sure. Maybe I’ll check it out.”

She grabs a box as well and gestures for me to lead the way out to the backyard.

As I get to the door, I feel her hand brush my shoulder. “Hey…can I ask you for a favor? Are we friends enough for me to do that?”

I raise a brow at her. “What’s the favor?”

Her gaze softens as she searches my face. “Be gentle with Langley,” she says at last. “He’s my not-so-secret favorite, and he’s crazy about you. He’s one of the good ones, Tess. Maybe even the best one. Just…don’t hurt him, okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, giving her a nod. “Okay.”

Langley is crazy about me? Well, that’s pretty convenient, because I think I’m crazy about him too.

41

Cars already line the block when Novy pulls up at Sully’s house a little after 8:00 p.m. The birthday party is in full swing. We’re fashionably late, of course. Lukas Novikov doesn’t know any other way to be.

After our morning spent shooting spots for the Humane Society, we all went out to lunch and then to the beach. The guys played a little sand volleyball, but I just watched. No way am I torquing this knee again.

“Hey man, you want me to drop you at the end of the driveway?” he calls from the front seat.

“I can walk just fine, asshole,” I shout back over the loud music.

He parallel parks half a block down and we all get out. Morrow and I coordinated our costumes. I smirk as I watch him walk in front of me, joining up with Novy on the sidewalk. We’re all in jeans and white T-shirts wearing SOA black leather motorcycle cuts.

Am I playing fair dressing up as Jax Teller? Hell, no. Fuck fair. I want Tess, and I want her to want me. If giving her a little taste of her favorite fantasy earns me any points, I’ll never take this damn costume off.

“Jesus,” Morrow cries, nearly jumping on top of me. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Novy and I both look to see a grim reaper wandering across the dark front lawn.

“Who the fuck is that?” Morrow shouts, clearly rattled. “Who are you?”

“Dude, chill,” comes a deep, muffled voice. “It’s me.” Davidson pulls his hood back, revealing his face. “Pretty cool, huh?” he says, gesturing to himself.