Hot Puck (Rough Riders Hockey 2)

Recognition hit their faces, and they all started laughing.

Andre put his hands on his hips. “Pffft.” He gestured for Beckett to hand over the phone. “Let me talk to this little kisa.”

“She needs to get to sleep, Andre. I don’t think—”

Andre took the phone from Beckett. “Hello, my solnyshko.”

Lily’s giggles echoed over the phone. “Hi, Andre.”

He shook a comically stern finger at the screen. “You do realize now, they will all have a new nickname for me because of you.”

“What nickname?” she asked.

“Gru,” he said with all his Russian melodrama. “They will always now call me Gru this and Gru that”—more of Lily’s laughter rolled out of the phone—“and the name is so perfect to rhyme, I do not know what these men will think of next. I must watch this…despicable movie. Will Dmitri like, you think?”

“Yes, Dmitri will like it.”

“All right, then. Maybe we FaceTime you, watch the movie together, the four and a half of us.”

More giggles. “Four and a half?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know the baby in Nika’s belly. He’s still just a half.”

“Andre,” Beckett finally said, lifting his hand for the phone. “It’s the middle of the night there.”

“Oh, your papa.” Andre rolled his eyes. “Ruin all the fun. Okay, only sweet dreams, kisa. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Andre handed the phone back to Beckett with a silent You’re welcome. But before Beckett could grab the phone, Savage swiped it, then backed out of Beckett’s reach.

“Hey, cupcake, plain old American Rafe here.”

More giggling. “Hi, Rafe.”

“So,” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial hum, “don’t tell the rest of these yahoos, but I happen to know a thing or two about Club Penguin. See, my niece is big, and I mean big, into Puffles.”

“Really?” Lily’s voice held that phantasmic breathy quality of supreme disbelief and hope all rolled into one. “Does she have a rainbow Puffle?”

“No, but I do.”

Beckett dropped his head into his hands and groaned as his daughter squealed and the locker room burst into laughter.

“You went on the journey?” Lily asked, breathless.

Beckett stood and took a step toward Savage. Savage, grinning like a little shit, took a step back.

“Uh-huh,” he said, moving through an aisle between benches in the center of the locker room to keep Beckett at bay. “And I’d love to tell you all”—Beckett made a grab for the phone, but Savage jumped and spun out of range—“about it next time I see you.”

Beckett had Savage cornered now, and he used a low voice when he said, “Payback’s a bitch.”

But evidently not low enough.

“Daddy? Did you say a bad word?”

The guys broke into a classic first-grade “ummmmmm” fest, followed by more laughter.

“Phone, Savage. Don’t make me hurt you.”