Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (10 page)

And he was full of shit.

Fuck!
He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and punched his work table. The pain reverberated up his arm. What the hell was he supposed to do? Zach and Becky were married and she wasn’t going to divorce him over a kiss.

Do you want her to?

He didn’t. Despite what had happened, he still loved Zach and didn’t want him going anywhere. But did Zach want to stay—no, wait. That wasn’t really the question, was it? He’d dealt with Zach doing scenes with others in the past, but only because he wasn’t threatened by the people Zach played with. Zovko was a different story.

Zovko fits here so much better than I do.

Dropping the sandpaper, he combed both fingers through his hair. Damn it, he wanted another drink. Only he wouldn’t drink here, wouldn’t be like that with Casey in the house. He wouldn’t have come home if he hadn’t sobered up enough. And he tried never to be stupid enough to need to make that choice.
He
had been the one to tell Zach they should be home for Casey in the morning. He’d almost fucked that up.

But you’re here.

Yeah, but for how long? The issue wasn’t Zach’s past with another man. Scott had thought about that a lot and knew it wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t so fucking scared about how easily he could be replaced.

He and Zach had talked about Zovko. Zach insisted there was nothing there, but the way he’d kissed the man
… That wasn’t nothing.

“Scott?”

In the doorway from the garage to the kitchen, Zach stood in his blue plaid pajama pants, bare chested, bare footed, looking all sexy and tired.

The bastard.
Would be so much easier to put some distance between them if Scott could look at his lover without wanting him. But he couldn’t, so he went back to sanding. “What do you want, Zach?”

“Come to bed. We’ve got practice in the morning, but we’ll have time to discuss this after Casey goes to school.” Zach walked down the three steps below the door. From the corner of his eye, Scott saw him hook his thumbs to the waist of his pajama pants. “On the drive maybe?”

Scott shook his head. “I’m taking my own car. But thanks for the offer.”

“We have to talk.”

“Then talk.”

“Not while you’re still drunk and being unreasonable.”

I’m gonna fucking punch him.
Scott hissed in a breath through his gritted teeth. He wouldn’t shout. Wanted to, but he wouldn’t risk waking Casey up. “I’m being unreasonable? Guess I was drunk and seeing things, right? You weren’t actually kissing your ex-boyfriend?”

“It’s not what you think. Christ, Scott, this could destroy your career with the Cobras! If Raif hadn’t dropped the charges—”

“Yeah, I’m grateful. Guess I should let him have you so we’ll be even.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m not the one who stole his fucking
car.” Zach made an irritated sound as Scott started sanding again. He latched on to Scott’s arm. “Will you stop and look at me? I told you that I don’t want him.”

Jerking away, Scott crumpled the sandpaper in his hand and stared at Zach. Something inside him had gone still and cold. Maybe it was acceptance. “Yes. And you showed me I can’t believe you.”

When Zach went back into the house, Scott got out a finer grained sandpaper. And went back to doing the one thing he could without doubting the results. The things he made turned out beautiful and solid and would last a lifetime.

Everything else
…he bowed his head, laughing as a single tear slipped from his chin and dropped on a small pile of sawdust. Everything else he found some way to fuck up.

C
hicklet woke to the most wonderful aroma slipping through her subconscious and making her mouth water. Fresh coffee, melted chocolate and butter, whatever was sizzling on the frying pan smelled absolutely divine. She rolled over, her brow shooting up when she saw Laura still in bed with her. Laura’s eyes were wide.

“Should we be afraid?” Laura shoved the blankets off and slipped naked from the bed.

Head propped up on her hand, Chicklet enjoyed the sway of Laura’s sweet round ass as her girl went to the closet to grab her robe. If she hadn’t worn Laura out last night, she might have a hard decision on her hands. Drag her girl back to bed for some early dessert, or head to the kitchen to see what smelled so damn good. But she knew Tyler was trying to do something nice and she needed to see that he was all right. He’d told her he needed some time alone after he’d come in late—had slept in his own room, which she rarely permitted. But she’d given him his space rather than force the issue when they were both exhausted. This gesture meant he was ready to talk.

And he’s smart enough to sweeten me up a bit first.
Chicklet threw her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing Laura and kissing the side of her neck before leaving the bedroom, wearing only the black boxers and white tank top she’d slept in. All that she knew about what had happened the night before had come from Pearce, who’d texted her before Tyler had gotten home. Which had given her time to get angry, to think things over, then to meet Raif and Tyler at the door without being a total bitch to her sub.

Not that she didn’t have a right to scream at him and tell him that he’d never pissed her off this much. Many women would dump their boyfriend for something like this. Or at least cut him off until he did some major sucking up. Who put up with their man getting arrested after a drunk night out with the boys?

But Tyler wasn’t just her boyfriend. He was her sub, and part of the attraction was that he needed her to give him a safe place to land after he got out of control, like one of those super balls that hit the ceiling, the walls, moving too fast to catch. That energy was exhilarating when it was carefully contained, but sometimes she knew she had to let him bounce around and do those foolish things young men did.

He’d gone too far this time, but there had to be a reason. He’d asked to be brought to heel with a punishment he hadn’t earned, and Raif had given it to him. The punishment had seemed fitting, but hadn’t leveled Tyler out like she’d hoped.

In the kitchen, she pulled out a chair and sat at the small glass breakfast table, smiling at the bouquet of baby’s breath in a crystal vase on the table. Chicklet wasn’t big on flowers, but these were Laura’s favorite. Laura was standing by the table with a hesitant smile on her lips, looking from the flowers to the counter where Tyler was drizzling chocolate syrup over crepes filled with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

“I didn’t know you could make crepes. They look delicious, Tyler!” Laura eased into the seat across from Chicklet as Tyler brought over the plates. “What’s the occasion? I thought you had practice?”

Tyler hesitated, then set the plates in front of Chicklet and Laura. “Callahan told me not to bother to come in today—got a meeting this afternoon. I’m suspended for three games.”

Fork frozen in midair, Chicklet resisted the urge to go find her phone and call her dear friend, Sloan Callahan, to ask him what the hell was going on. Charges had been dropped. Unless the arrest had gone public, there was no reason to keep Tyler from playing.

She looked up as Tyler handed her a cup of coffee. “Can you bring me the paper please?”

“Of course.” Tyler went to get it from the table in the hall. “But if you’re looking for anything about what happened last night, you won’t find it. No one seems to know anything about the cops showing up besides
…well, Callahan knows. And Keane.”

Damn it!
Chicklet took the paper from Tyler and placed it on the table. She caught Laura sitting upright and stiff from the corner of her eye, but she’d handle that later. “What is the team saying publicly about the suspension?”

Shrugging, Tyler went to get three glass bowls of berries to put on the table around the flowers. “Me, Scott, and Luke party too much. They want us to smarten up before the
playoffs.”

“Which is reasonable.” Chicklet took a huge bite of crepe, moaning around the mouthful as the strawberries
’ sweetness joined the rich flavor of dark chocolate. She licked her lips before speaking again. “What will you do until you’re back on the ice?”

Her question made Tyler pale a little. He took a sip from his own coffee. Which he was drinking black—a rare thing. His stomach must be bothering him. He hadn’t made himself a crepe. “I have a meeting with my manager and my agent before the meeting with Richter. My agent told me I can’t hang out with Luke or Scott anymore
, and he wasn’t sure ‘what I expect him to do with my latest fuck-up.’”

“I don’t think much
needs
to be done. You’ve been suspended. Offer to do some extra charity work, spend more time in the gym, and be on your best behavior. This will be forgotten before too long.” Chicklet brought her coffee to her lips, arching her brow when Laura dropped her fork on her plate with a noisy clatter. “Is there a problem, love?”

Laura stood and pushed her chair in. “Of course not, Mistress. I just have to get to work.”

Checking her watch, Chicklet saw that Laura had plenty of time. Which meant she wasn’t being honest. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had irritated her girl, but Laura
would
tell them herself. Tapping her nails on the table, she gave Laura a thin smile. “Let’s try that answer again.”

Shooting
Tyler a dirty look, Laura squared her shoulders. “He’s in trouble with the police, and for some reason everyone’s acting like it’s no big deal. I happen to respect the law.”

“Everyone, Laura?” Chicklet kept her tone light, knowing Laura wouldn’t speak as freely if she was in the submissive zone. This was good. She missed her girl having opinions of her own. “Tyler’s been suspended. I don’t think anyone’s acting like it’s no big deal.”

“
You
are.”

“I’m discussing things with him. I’m disappointed, not angry. But if you’re pissed off, go ahead and tell him so.” Chicklet smiled pleasantly and went back to savoring her breakfast. She watched the uncertain look Tyler and Laura exchanged.

Tyler dropped his gaze first. Swallowed hard. “Laura, I’m sorry. I fucked up last night barging in on your scene. And then I got drunk and played a really stupid prank and got arrested. I respect the law, I really do. I just wasn’t thinking. I won’t do it again.”

Laura’s lips thinned. “What exactly
did
you do?”

“Uh
…kinda borrowed Raif’s car. Without asking.”

“So you stole it. Grand theft auto and DUI. Yep.” Laura plastered a fake smile on her lips. “I’m glad you’re sorry. That makes it all better. A few days off from playing hockey is a perfectly reasonable punishment.”

There were times when Chicklet had to let her subs work things out themselves. Unfortunately, it rarely went smoothly when one of them was mad at the other, but that didn’t happen often. She watched Tyler’s jaw harden, then relax, as though he was annoyed, but doing his best to remain composed.

That’s my boy.

“I wasn’t driving drunk, Laura. And hockey is my career. Do cops consider suspensions just a few days off?”

So not the right thing to say.
Chicklet held back a groan as Laura’s eyes flashed with anger. “Are you seriously going to compare your job to mine?”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I know your job is important, but—”

“But? You stupid boy, you have no idea how many people I’ve seen taken to the morgue because of idiots like you! You should still be behind bars and—”

Time to step in. Chicklet held up her hands as she stood. “That’s enough, Laura. From the details Pearce gave me, Demyan drove the car and he didn’t drink at the club. I agree, it was stupid—” she glanced over at Tyler, who nodded quickly, then turned back to Laura “—and you have every right to be mad. But let’s try to discuss this calmly.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I can’t do that right now. I have to go to work, and I just hope the few people who know I’m involved with
him
haven’t heard about this.” Laura let out a bitter laugh, then rolled her eyes. “What am I thinking? He’s a famous hockey player. It’s a miracle this isn’t front page news.”

After going to their room to change into her uniform, Laura returned to the kitchen to kiss Chicklet, leaving without another word. Tyler scowled at the floor, wincing when Laura shut the door a little harder than necessary. Chicklet got them both more coffee—and two Tylenols for her boy. He thanked her quietly.

Leaning against the counter, Chicklet’s lips curved as she sipped her coffee, eyes half closed as she slowly inhaled the fragrant steam. Things certainly weren’t dull around here. She opened her eyes when she heard Tyler moving across the room and watched him drop heavily into a chair.

Head in his hands, shoulders slumped, he looked absolutely miserable. “She really hates me, doesn’t she?”

She slipped up behind him and stroked his arms, her tone soft and low. “She doesn’t hate you. But this mess is going to take some time to clean up. Give her some space. Do whatever your coach and the GM ask you to. Make more empty promises about never drinking again.”

The throaty laugh he released made her smile, but he quickly cut it off as he tipped his head back to look up at her. “You don’t seem all that pissed, Chicklet.”

“Chicklet,” not Mistress.
In a way, his not going all submissive was good. He hadn’t misbehaved in a scene and she didn’t want to punish him—the team had already chosen their own form of discipline. She wanted to speak to him as his lover first. Then decide how this needed to be handled as his Domme. They had some bigger issues to work through, and she couldn’t help him until she figured out what they were.

“I was pissed. Now I’m more worried than anything. You boys have done reckless things in the past, but this goes beyond getting drunk and having your nipples pierced.”

“I kissed Luke.” Tyler’s face immediately went red and he tried to duck his head, but she grabbed his chin before he could.

Her fingers, still tipped with long
black nails, framed his jaw as she studied his face. His lip didn’t look too bad, no more than a little sore. His big blue eyes were wide, adding to his innocent angel appearance and making him look even younger than his twenty-three years. The sun streaming through the window made his pale gold curls practically glow. But she’d seen the passion of a man in those eyes, felt the strength in the body he worked so hard to keep in good shape. His dedication to the game, his loyalty to those he cared for, was fierce. A lot of people only saw the angel and thought he was fragile.

She saw the whole man, tough when he needed to be. And sometimes, when he didn’t.

Very few managed to get through to his vulnerable side. She did—and the fact that Tyler had kissed Luke made her wonder if his two closest friends knew how to as well. “You’ve never shown any interest in being with a man before.”

“I’m not interested. I was curious.” His eyes shifted so he was staring at the wall behind her. She didn’t think he meant to evade her gaze. More like he was hiding something, even from himself. “Found out it’s definitely not my thing.”

“So kissing Luke was repulsive?” She chuckled as his face reddened even more. “Are you sure it’s not just him?”

“Well
…kissing him was just weird. Kinda hurt.”

“But?”

Tyler cleared his throat. “When he kissed
me
it was different, but Scott said it’s because I’m a sub and Luke was being all Dom-like so it makes sense. Didn’t want more though. I don’t like boys.”

Chicklet found it cute that he said that with such conviction, even though his body was telling her a different story. She slid her hand to his throat to feel his racing pulse. Looked into his big eyes as they met hers. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip
, and she considered giving Ramos a call to see if she could borrow his sub for a little experiment.
I would have so much fun with these boys. Maybe it’s time to throw a little party.

She had to dig a
bit deeper first though. Tyler
was
still insisting it “wasn’t his thing.” “If it was different when he kissed you, why did you stop him?”

“Scott stopped him. But I would have anyway because he’s my best friend and that would be weird. Can we not talk about it anymore?”

“Why? Does this conversation make you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, just a bit.”

“Tough.” Chicklet released his throat and patted his cheek. “I didn’t give you permission to kiss Luke. Or anyone else. So the least you can do is be honest with me about it.”

Sitting forward, then turning as Chicklet circled his chair, Tyler shook his head. “I
am
being honest! The scene with Raif had me a little messed up, okay?”

Now
that
makes a lot more sense.
Time to take things up a notch. She planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Watch your tone, boy.”