Puck Yes (My Hockey Romance #2) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: My Hockey Romance Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
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“Did you see this?” Hayes asks skeptically as he points to Dev’s phone. I sit down across from him, glancing at the shot of Dev and his girlfriend at the chapel down the street. A year ago, I’d issued the dare to Dev, who’d signed with the team in a mid-season trade the season before.

“Wait. I thought she was your girlfriend, not your wife?” Ivy asks Dev with a raised brow. She doesn’t miss anything. Please let her catch them on this. A wedding will take hours. “You just called her.”

With a no shit grin, Dev stabs a finger at the screen. “Yeah. Eva and I got married on a dare last year, then got it annulled, and, well, I’ll probably ask her to marry me for real really fucking soon.”

Great. He makes it all sound so plausible.

Brady clears his throat, waggling his phone and his pic. “Kana and I tied the knot here too,” he says, then swings the screen around to a shot of him and Mrs. Clampett kissing in the same chapel.

Huh. I don’t remember that one. But not my place to narc.

Hayes drags a hand across his chin like he’s trying to make heads and tails of the dare. “So, how does this work? You get married, then have it annulled in the morning?”

“It’s Vegas married,” Brady says. “Tomorrow before the breakfast, you call it off. Or after, whatevs. It’s fun. Just like the night we did it. ”

Kana laughs then smacks a kiss to his cheek. “And I’d marry you in Vegas all over again.”

Hayes’s brow furrows. He’s not quite buying their story, but he’s not ready to back down either. He grabs one of the glasses the server left and knocks some water back. This night is a wash. Might as well just go along with the dare now. “Hayes, the record is an hour,” I say, giving in. “I dare you to beat it.”

“What record?”

Maybe I can move things along though. “The record for finding a woman here in Vegas to marry you,” I add dryly.

“The marriage license bureau closes in one hour,” Dev says. “Get cracking. You need to find a wife, stat.”

Ivy rolls her eyes, then raises her hand. “I’ll do it.”

That’s it. My plans are officially fucked.

15

FOOLS RUSH IN

Hayes

An hour later, I’ve got a marriage license in my hand, and we’re in the foyer of a white roadside chapel while an Elvis impersonator runs my credit card. “Now, you be sure to tie that tie, son. You need to look real pretty for your bride,” he says to me in that King-like drawl.

I glance down at my emerald-green post-game tie. It’s a hot mess. Guess I was tugging on it all night at the bar.

I move to tighten it when Ivy reaches for the silk. “I’ll fix my man’s tie.”

Those words—my man—go to my head. Hell, they go to my dick. I want to hear her say them after dark, when we’re alone, when she’s gazing up at me from the floor on her knees. I shake off that filthy thought. Don’t need a bowling pin in my pants when I say I do on a dare.

Why did I agree to this Vegas wedding? Well, you don’t back down from a dare from your new teammates, that’s why. Sure, I’ve only been with the Avengers for a few weeks, but already I’m feeling like I’m a part of them, like I’ve wanted to be since I was called up four years ago to Toronto. Like I’ve hoped to be on all the other teams I played for.

And hell, Ivy offered. As she adjusts my tie, she says, “You’re my wedding date. The least I could do is return the favor and be your wedding date.”

“At my own wedding,” I say, amused.

As her nimble hands adjust the knot, she meets my gaze, but something’s different in her expression. I study her for a beat, then I figure it out. “Your lips are red,” I say stupidly. I can’t stop looking at those slick, plump lips.

“I reapplied lipstick. You like?”

I want to kiss it off with my mouth. I want to wipe it off with my cock. I want to mess it up in every single filthy way. “Ask me in a few minutes,” I say.

Elvis clears his throat. “A bouquet for your bride would be nice,” he says, then reaches for some red roses on a mirrored table and hands them to her.

“Thanks, King,” she says.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, out of the side of his mouth.

Three minutes later, I join my teammates at the front of the tiny chapel, where Dev is nudging Stefan, and Stefan is nudging Brady, and they’re saying something about how I’m a gamer, and there’s nothing I’ve wanted to be more.

Elvis stands at the front of the chapel, decked out in his white sequined suit, big sideburns, and thick glasses. Next to him, a showgirl twirls a feather boa.


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