PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE)

by Marx, Jessica

  “Only the best for the best,” Jayson replies. “How about a little wine before the parents arrive?” Now that’s an offer I’ll happily accept.

  He removes a bottle of white wine from the wine cooler under the counter. He pours each of us a glass and raises his to toast.

  “Here’s to a bright future and a happy future stepmother and mother-in-law,” Jayson jokes.

  “Ha. Ha. Can you not refer to her as that from now on? And who says she’s going to be your mother-in-law, anyway?”

  “She will be. You’re mine, remember? You have no choice now,” he teases me. I laugh in response.

  “You’re crazy,” I reply.

  The intercom rings again and I know this time it has to be my mother and Tom. Jayson answers, and when he hangs up, he walks back over to me. He holds my chin in his hand and tilts my head up so we are looking into each other’s eyes.

  “Don’t worry. We got this,” he says quietly.

  Jayson kisses me on the lips for assurance. Even though it’s just a short kiss, it feels soft and sweet and full of love. He backs up and holds his palm up, waiting for a high-five.

  “Let’s do this!” he says, switching gears to lighten the mood and making me laugh again.

  I high-five him and he walks to the door to open it for our awaiting guests. I hear the ding of the elevator and the sound of Mom and Tom coming out of the elevator toward Jayson’s apartment. This is it.

  “Hey, Dad! Hello, Cynthia,” Jayson greets them. He shakes his father’s hand and gives my mother a hug as they come in the door.

  I’m a few feet behind Jayson. I put on my best smile and greet them next.

  “Hi, Tom. Hey, Mom,” I say, giving each of them a hug.

  “You look so pretty, Ashley,” my mother says after taking a step back.

  “Thanks,” I reply. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.

  We all find our way to the kitchen island. Jayson pours another two glasses of wine and hands them to Tom and Cynthia. We are awkwardly standing around, trying to get comfortable with each other. We all know why we are here, but I don’t think anyone wants to dive into a serious discussion.

  Jayson takes a seat on a stool and helps himself to cheese and crackers. We all follow suit, picking on a couple of the appetizers from the small spread.

  We make some small talk and try to ease the tension. It seems to work as we are all comfortably talking to each other about anything other than the topic at hand. Then Tom decides it’s time to get down to business.

  “Well, I don’t know where to start, but let’s get this over with so we can sit down and eat some lunch. It looks delicious.”

  “Way to be subtle, Dad,” Jayson says with a chuckle.

  “You should know how I operate by now,” Tom replies. “As we’re obviously all aware, I’ve asked Cynthia to be my bride. And for some crazy reason, she said yes,” he continues, looking at my mother with reverence. “We don’t want to begin our new life together with any unnecessary strain or hard feelings. So I would like everyone to just lay it all out on the table. Let’s just say whatever it is that is on our minds so we can address it and move on.”

  Jayson takes a sip of his drink and replies first. “I don’t think there’s too much to say. Ashley and I are dating. We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. It’s an unfortunate coincidence that our parents are marrying each other, but we’re adults and it really shouldn’t make a difference.”

  “It is an unfortunate coincidence,” my mother replies. “I don’t think dating someone that you will be considered related to is appropriate.”

  “I don’t think it matters. We are adults, not children. We also won’t all be living together under one roof. It’s not like we grew up together, or anything. The fact that you and my father will be married is only a technicality,” Jayson retorts and sips his wine again.

  “It’s just not right. Would I call you my stepson, or my daughter’s boyfriend? Or God forbid, both?” she says sarcastically.

  “Really, Mom? Why does it matter? Call him whatever you want. What’s the difference?” I chime in.

  “It just doesn’t make sense. How many people do you know who date their relatives?” she answers.

  “He’s not my relative!” I hiss. “So he’ll be my stepbrother. So what? All you care about is what other people think. You don’t even have a real reason.”

  “I will always support you, Cynthia, but I have to agree on this point. They’re grown and can make their own choices. Our relationship shouldn’t and doesn’t make a difference in theirs,” Tom agrees. I silently cheer.

  “I’m not going to fight about it, Tom. Maybe it’s just my own opinion or insecurities about what people think, but I can’t help how I feel,” my mom concedes. “If it weren’t for the age difference or Jayson’s…” She pauses, trying to think of the least offensive word. “…past, it wouldn’t concern me so much. But adding those to the equation, I just see disaster in the future. For all of us.”

  “I can’t help my age,” Jayson replies calmly. “Maybe I’m immature, maybe Ashley is more mature, I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for some young girl to manipulate. We’re just attracted to each other.”

  My mother snorts. “What could you possibly have in common with a college girl? You’ve been out of college for years. You’re a grown man with a career and a future. You’re an adult. Ashley still doesn’t have a major and her father pays her rent.”

  “I don’t care what she studies or that she can’t afford an apartment in Manhattan yet,” Jayson bites back. “Ashley is beautiful. She’s also interesting, intelligent, and funny. She makes me smile and we enjoy each other’s company. I care for her very deeply.” He’s staring at me. “Why should anything else matter?”

  “How many women have you said cared for in the past? How many have you led on just to drop for the next one that comes along? How long can a girl hold your interest?” Mom snaps back.

  “My past is exactly that—my past.” Jayson says more sternly. “It has no effect on my feelings for Ashley. I’ve never cared for a woman the way I care for her, nor have I pretended I did.”

  “Cynthia, my son may be many things. but he has never been dishonest. I know he may not have the best reputation, but he’s a man who stands by his word. I don’t believe he would lie about his feelings or do something that he knows would jeopardize our happiness.” Tom says. I see my mother’s face soften slightly.

  “My age doesn’t make a difference. You were my age when you married Dad! Jayson and I care for each other. and I’m happy. Isn’t that all that should matter?” I ask my mother.

  “Yes, you’re the same age as when I married your father,” she says, “and look how well that turned out. What makes you think Jayson will be any different? You’re going to get older and he’s going to want a replacement. Just like your father.”

  “Don’t compare him to Dad!” I yell. “Even if he is like my father, you loved him once, for many years. He wasn’t always the terrible person you make him out to be.” I stand up. I’m too wound up to sit down anymore. Jayson gets up and stands behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders. I see tears well in my mother’s eyes.

  “I just don’t believe that a womanizer like that is going to change his ways. He will get bored and find someone else. Then where will you be? I’ll tell you—you will be hurt, and sad. I will wind up with hard feelings toward Jayson and Tom and I will be arguing about our children over something we could have put a stop to before it got to that point. All of us will be hurt.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Jayson replies in a loud but calm voice. “I am not your ex-husband. I can’t predict the future, but I know in my heart I will never hurt Ashley. I have never felt this way about another woman, ever. I love her.”

  I look at him in shock. I feel like I’m going to cry now. Not only has Jayson told me he loves me, but he said it in front of my mother and Tom. Jayson brushes the hair away from my face and puts
his hands on my shoulders.

  “I love you, Ashley. I really do. I wish I could have told you under different circumstances,” he says softly.

  “I love you too, Jayson.” I reply. We continue to look at each other for a few moments and then snap back into reality. My mother has tears streaming down her face as she watches us.

  “I waited so long for my second chance at love,” my mother starts. “I realize now how selfish I have been. I’m sorry, Ashley. Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember you’re a woman. I can’t treat you like a child anymore. I have to let you live your life and make your own choices. I can see now that Jayson truly cares for you and I can’t stand in the way of that.”

  Mom gets up from her seat and hugs me. “I’m so sorry. I love you,” she quietly tells me while we embrace.

  “I love you too, Mom,” I reply. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

  “Thank you for listening with an open ear, Cynthia,” Jayson says, giving my mother a hug. “I’m glad we got everything out in the open and squared away. I meant every word I said.”

  “Now that we all love each other, can we eat lunch?” Tom interrupts.

  “I see where you get your sense of humor now.” I whisper to Jayson, smiling.

  We each make a plate and sit at the table. Everyone is talking and laughing like nothing was ever wrong. I’m reminded of the first night we all got together at my mother’s house and I smile. Jayson was right—everything is going to be okay.

  24

  ONE YEAR LATER

  * * *

  The weather is perfect and the backyard looks beautiful. Of all the parties my mother has hosted at her home, this one is by far the most amazing.

  The florist has decorated a trellis with flowers and laid a roll of white fabric out to look like an aisle. There are white chairs set up on either side facing the archway and the bay beyond it. The handful of people that were invited are all seated patiently and talking quietly amongst themselves.

  Tom and the minister stand in front waiting, flanked by Jayson and Matt on one side and me on the other. I see Eric and Mom begin to make their way down the aisle. She looks stunning and glowing with happiness. I glance at Tom and he is beaming. There is so much love between the two of them. Everyone here can see it.

  As my mother approaches Tom, he gives her his elbow and she releases Eric with a kiss and takes Tom’s arm. As the minister begins his speech about love, Jayson and I look at each other and smile. Since moving in together and sharing our lives and our home, we know it will be our turn next, and I can’t wait.

  Hey to all my sexy readers! I hope you’re hungry for more, because I’ve decided to include another FREE BONUS!!! Turn the page for a free copy of my bestselling novel, BAD BOY FOREVER!

  Thanks for reading,

  Jessica Marx!

  JESSICA MARX HAS A MAILING LIST!

  JESSICA MARX HAS A MAILING LIST!

  Thank you so much for enjoying my first full length romance novel! I’m actively writing my next book and I can’t wait to tell you all about it. Join my mailing list for new release notification, free exclusive content, and special discounts on new releases for anyone who subscribes! Sign up is easy, and I will never share your information with anyone.

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  Bad Boy Forever…

  Bad Boy Forever

  A Stepbrother Romance

  Copyright Jessica Marx 2016

  This book is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious and any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidence.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  JESSICA MARX HAS A MAILING LIST!

  Thank you so much for enjoying another full length romance novel! I’m actively writing my next book and I can’t wait to tell you all about it. Join my mailing list for new release notification, free exclusive content, and special discounts on new releases for anyone who subscribes! Sign up is easy, and I will never share your information with anyone.

  Join the Jessica Marx mailing list by clicking right here!

  Prologue

  BAD BOY FOREVER

  * * *

  “Let’s just do it,” I say excitedly.

  “I don’t know, Eve,” Ryan replies. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

  “You know it’s going to work out, Ryan. Besides, it’s the perfect plan. How else can either of us afford to live in Manhattan any other way? We’ve been talking about this since we met!”

  “That part is true, but won’t it be strange living together?” Ryan asks.

  “Ryan, we’ve been living together ever since our parents got married…”

  “This is different and you know it.”

  “No! It’s not different. It will be awesome. We can make it work, Ry,” I answer, pleading with my eyes.

  My excitement is palpable. I found an amazing apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. It’s a three-story walk up with one bedroom. Actually, other than the location, the only amazing thing about it is that if I can find a roommate, it will be affordable. I can’t even afford a studio at this point, let alone anything bigger. We can put up a partition and make it a two-bedroom. Commuting to Manhattan for work and auditions is doable, but not at all convenient—especially for those last-minute calls. It’s the perfect solution.

  Or at least it would be, if I could get Ryan on board.

  Ryan is more than just my best friend. He’s my stepbrother. I can't think of a better person to share an apartment with. When I first met him a few years ago, I admittedly thought he was gay. He would walk around the house showing off his amazing body, with perfectly sculpted muscles that he works very hard to maintain. Ryan has dark hair that he always takes the time to style it over his handsome, chiseled face. He has piercing blue eyes that are almost hypnotizing when you look at them, and he likes to dress in fashionable clothing that accentuates his body. I didn’t think straight guys knew how to take care of themselves like he does. He certainly stood out against all the high school guys he hung out with.

  Girls are always checking him out or hitting on him, but he never really seemed to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Plus, he was in my acting class during our senior year, so I just made the assumption that he was pitching for the other team. I’m glad I did, or I would have never been daring enough to get so close to him. We instantly clicked from the moment we first met, and when high school was over, we decided to take on the world together.

  “Listen, Ryan. Let’s just promise that if at any time one of us is bothered by or annoyed with the other, we will be open about it. That way, there won’t be anything to worry about.” I say with a smirk.

  Ryan laughs at me, taking a sip from his soda. “You sure your mother is going to be ok with us moving in together?”

  “She’s going to be fine. She talks a big game about you bringing girls home, but I’m pretty sure she still thinks you might be gay…” I replied, a hint of a smile peeking out on my face.

  “You know, sooner or later she’s going to realize not every white wannabe actor is gay, sis.”

  “I’m sure at some point she will. Especially if I actually make a serious effort to tell her,” I reply. “Anyway, who cares? Are we doing this?”

  “Okay. Yes,” Ryan answers slowly. “As long as you swear it will not ruin our friendship. I might need a wing-girl, you know?”

  I almost shriek in joy. “I totally swear! Let’s go see the apartment so we can get the ball rolling! We need to snag this place quick if we really are going to take it.” I call the landlord before Ryan has a chance to change his mind and let him know
we will be coming by within the hour.

  Ryan and I finish our lunch. We have been meeting at this same diner for years, and it’s become “our spot.” It’s one of the few places people actually know who we are, at least for now, I hope. Everybody in this business says they are going to make it big someday, but I think if I really believe it, it will come true.

  The waitress delivers our check and we both pay our share and add a nice tip. Working in the service industry has afforded us a certain appreciation for how important tipping is. Most of the people we work with are also struggling artists of some sort. Seems par for the course here—working in restaurants and bars, waiting for your big break.

  We put our coats on and step outside. It’s a brisk autumn day but the sun is shining. Since it’s not terribly far from here, we decide to walk over to the new apartment to check it out. Ryan and I make small talk as we work our way through the busy streets. It seems everyone is trying to enjoy the sunshine, since winter will be here soon.

  “Well, this is it,” I say, beaming up at the nondescript building in front of us.

  “Wow! This is the apartment you found? I thought this was some fancy new hotel for a minute,” Ryan replies drily.

  I call the landlord and let him know we’ve arrived. Moments later, the door opens and there is an overweight, middle-aged man in the doorway. I eagerly approach him with my hand out.

  “Hi. You must be Mike. I’m Eve, we spoke on the phone. This is my stepbrother, Ryan,” I add. Mike looks from me to Ryan slowly. I can tell he’s sizing us up.

  “Hi, Eve,” Mike says. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I can show you the apartment quick.” He holds the door open for us.

  “I had someone come this morning already and my phone has been ringing off the hook about this place today,” he continues with his back to us. Mike is walking up the steps and is out of breath before we reach the second floor.