Page 92

Tucker’s grimace tells me everything I need to know.

“All at the same time,” he squeaks out.

I breathe in deeply and try not to let the panic win.

Tucker must think I’m angry because he starts an overexplaining ramble.

“It’s just that this was planned at the end of the year. I wanted to take the boys on a long trip over the summer. Jim and Amanda were fine with it at the time and let me make the arrangements. I didn’t know I wouldn’t have the time this summer, so of course that’s not happening now. And the draft’s next week and the governors’ meeting, and⁠—”

“It’s okay, Tucker,” I say loud enough that the boys turn to look at me with wide eyes. Thankfully they don’t look startled or apprehensive, just surprised.

“Sunny, you’re never loud,” Mads says with just a bit of adorable awe.

Mace’s curls bounce with how hard he nods. “Always quiet voice,” he agrees.

“I know, but your brother was getting worried and I knew he wouldn’t hear me otherwise,” I try to explain. “Now, do you know what all this means, boys?”

“What?” Mace obviously has no clue but he’s already excited, smart boy.

“We’re going to do a lot of very fun things this summer,” I say solemnly. “We’re going to go to the planetarium, the aquarium, we’re going to spend one day jumping all over the place at a trampoline park, and you each get to choose what we’re going to do for a full day. Maybe two if you’re good.”

“A whole day?” Mads is clearly not sure how he feels about this yet. “What if we want to be with Tucker?”

My heart grows three sizes at the simple question.

“Maybe not next week since that’s when the draft is,” Tucker says easily. “But the week after that, yeah guys. You can come work with me for a day.”

He smiles easily at me after kissing their foreheads.

“Now let’s eat.”

My incredibly suave way of making a move tonight is lifting one eyebrow in Tucker’s direction once we’ve been working out for an hour and it’s clear Chicago is going to tie up the series tonight.

Tucker’s answer is once more to twist his Keys cap around in that weirdly hot-as-fuck way, then kissing every thought out of my head before laying me down and sucking me off like his life depends on it.

I get lost in the feel of his hot mouth, in the little grunts of encouragement when I push the cap off his head, bury my fingers in his hair, and he lets me slide in and out.

I’m more than happy to return the favor, and every touch of his hand on my cheek, my temple, my hair, the way his thighs bunch under my hand, the way he twitches against my tongue, and the perfect melody that is his raspy, “Sunny,” as he shoots in my mouth, all of it keeps me in the moment.

It’s only him and me and nothing bad is happening. There are no important thoughts or dates, no anxiety over a job, no bad memories.

Thankfully this time, when the high of the orgasm fades, I’m not flooded with so many feelings. None of them leak out of my eyes at least, but I maybe do keep giggling every few seconds for a solid four minutes.

Fooling around with Tucker is fun.

When I have my breath back, and we’ve both put our cleaned-up dicks away, I turn back to the TV to see the last few seconds.

As expected Chicago took the game 5–2.

So home-ice advantage really is a thing.

“Next game is on Wednesday, right?” I ask. Maybe it’s a stupid question, but one, I do want to know, and two, I want something normal to talk about.

“Yes, back in Vegas.”

“Cool.”

That topic didn’t last me long.