“Gnashnab,” I muttered under my breath as I let my eyes roll to the back of my head while being super proud of my word-of-the-day skills. “It’s just an old towel.” I tried to incorporate as much lightheartedness into my tone as possible while taking the vile thing from her outstretched hand.

  “Gross.” Her nose was as high in the air as it could be.

  “I have definitely seen worse.” I threw the rag into the bin with the rest that were going to be sent out to be laundered in the morning—simple as that, and certainly nothing to get your panties in a bunch over.

  “I don’t even want to know.” Bridget hurriedly scrubbed her hands before ringing some of her customers’ drink orders into the computer. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a good employee, but I was getting really tired of her bitching about something or other every two seconds. If it wasn’t about a repulsive, dirty something, it was about bad tips or the bar being slow or too busy—there was just no pleasing her.

  Another night.

  Another bar.

  I was guest bartending once again for an up-and-coming hotspot in Manhattan. The new owners had just finished renovations and hired me to come in and revamp their bartending staff. It was fun. I loved my job—and the money wasn’t half bad either—but work was all I did. Yeah, I had a great group of friends, but they we were all growing up, moving on, getting married, having kids, and I was sick of being the perpetual single friend. I was one of the best, most sought-after training bartenders in the entire country, but that was all I had to show for my life—amazing drink-slinging skills and award-winning flare moves. Was it really enough?

  After a very busy dinner shift, I wiped off the bar top and collected the tip left for me by my last patrons. The night was slowing down and it was getting time for me to get the heck out of Dodge.

  “Hey Vince?” I called into the back hallway. “Closing time!”

  The short, graying bar owner waddled out of his office with an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth. “Jordan, it has been a lifesaver having you here.”

  He patted me on the shoulder as he walked by to round up the rest of his staff in the dining room. “Great work tonight everyone. I am extremely impressed by how much all of your hard work this past week has paid off.” He turned to me. “And we owe a great deal of this to the incredible Jordan Bates.”

  They all clapped and I wanted to hide under the bar. “Aw, shucks.” My face was hot as I fidgeted with the towel in my hands. “You guys have been putting in all of the work. Teamwork makes the dream work, and all of you have proven that tenfold.”

  I was terrible at being praised; compliments embarrassed me to no end. Working in restaurants, especially behind the bar, was a team effort, plain and simple.

  After making sure the tips for the night were divvied out and everything was cleaned, restocked, and put away, I ventured out onto the energetic city street. The humid night air draped me as I pulled out my phone to text Gavin.

  Me: Way to crush it in Chicago!

  It only took a few minutes for him to respond.

  Gavin: Thanks girl! We’ll be home tomorrow. Celebratory drinks at Brayden’s house?

  Me: Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  Gavin: Myla and Karla are setting it up.

  Me: I’ll get the details from them and see you tomorrow.

  Chapter 2

  Crosby

  The driveway and street in front of Brayden’s house were packed. Thank goodness for Uber. I got out of the back seat of the town car and made my way into the old Victorian. Right after ringing the doorbell, I was greeted by a sight for sore eyes: Jordan’s beaming smile. She opened the door and helped me inside with the ice and beer I brought.

  “Always a pleasure, Ms. Bates.” I gave her a quick half-hug standing in the foyer of Brayden’s house. I could feel the goofy smile that had taken over from just the sight of her, and all I could do was hope it didn’t give away my feelings too much. There was something about Jordan Bates that sank deep down into me, but I didn’t have the nerve to tell her. The trepidation of rejection was too strong, and the dread of ruining our friendship was more than I could bear.

  “The pleasure, like always, is mine.” Jordan’s honey-coated tone infused her words as I followed her into the crowded house and went straight for the kitchen. “Hey, that was a great game yesterday. I was able to catch most of it while I was working.” She looked over her shoulder at me as she poured ice into the open cooler on the floor.

  “Eh, it was Hayes and Cox that really did a number on the ice to be honest. They really made my job easy.”

  She laughed a little as I limped over to lean on the counter next to her. “I’d say that pulled muscle would beg to differ with your argument.”

  Her laugh.

  Her voice.

  Her smile.

  I caught myself staring before anyone else seemed to notice.

  “Hey, there he is!” Brayden called over to me as he came into the kitchen with a few empty beer bottles and threw them into the recycling bin next to the refrigerator.

  I shook my teammate’s hand. “Thanks for having all of us over.”

  He shrugged. “Thank the wifey—Karla is the brains behind this entire operation.”

  “Hey now, what am I, chopped liver?” Myla came up next to her brother, jabbing him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. She was wearing one of her many Otters shirts that had Mrs. Hayes on the back. It was adorable how proud she was to be the captain’s wife.

  “Myla, I hear congratulations are in order.” I hugged her quickly.

  “Hey Crosby. Yep, pretty soon we’ll have another rug rat scampering around this place.”

  Brayden shook his head. “Just what this lot needs—more screaming, jumping, psycho children.”

  Myla shooed her brother into the other room before turning to me with a crooked grin. “Nice defense. I was so pissed when you got subbed out.”

  Myla was a spitfire if I had ever seen one in my life, tiny but mighty as hell. She was the sister of Brayden Cox and the wife of Gavin Hayes so she had to be tough to put up with the two of them. It could have been argued that she loved hockey and our team even more than we did as players.

  “Yeah, trust me, I know the feeling, but I did need a little bit of a break and the other guys deserve some ice time, too.”

  Myla reached up with her tiny hand and patted me on the shoulder. “You’re nicer than I am to have a thought process like that.”

  I gave her a quick wink before she bounced over and ducked under her husband’s arm. Gavin and I raised our beers toward each other before he turned back to the group he was chatting with. I looked back over to where Jordan was, relieved that she hadn’t left the kitchen yet.

  The sunlight danced in through the window over the sink to show that Jordan had done something different with her hair. To say something or not—that was the question that plagued me. Would it be too much to tell her I noticed the subtle hint of crimson infiltrating the jet-black pixie cut she was rocking?

  I chugged my beer for the sheer excuse to get next to Jordan and the cooler again. “How’s work been?” Simple and easy – the desperate attempt for small talk.

  She looked up at me while mixing tequila and lemonade together. Just the thought of those two liquids together was enough to make me want to gag. “It’s work,” she sighed, “The bar I’m training at right now is doing really well, so I guess work is great.”

  “But?” I could sense that there was more to it than that, and I yearned to keep her talking as long as humanly possible.

  She handed me another beer, popping the tab for me out of habit. “I don’t know. Work is all I do.”

  “Be careful, you don’t want to burn yourself out.” I had never had a real job in my fucking life. I went from playing hockey or playing hockey to playing more hockey. I had no idea what it was like for her to have to work a blue-collar job, and I had never felt more like a prick in my entire damn life than I did in that very moment. An overwhelming desire to steal her away so she never had to work another late night again consumed me. I was about to get up the nerve to grab her hand and pull her into a dark corner to talk more privately but I missed my opportunity.

  “Whistler! McBee!” Jordan yelled, diverting her attention to Sean and his wife as they walked through the living room.

  Jessica’s face lit up as she bee-lined it for Jordan. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy seeing Sean and Jess, they were freaking awesome people – two of the coolest cops in New York City. I just hated that I kept missing my opportunities with Jordan. Maybe it was a sign – who the fuck knows.

  “Well, isn’t this a surprise! The newlyweds are gracing us with their presence,” I joked before congratulating Gavin’s best friend and his new bride. Sean, Jessica, Jordan, and I made small talk for a few minutes as we made our way out onto the wooden deck out back. I knew I couldn’t be selfish and take all of Jordan’s time, but I sure fucking wanted to with every damn fiber of my being.

  Jordan

  “You know he is crazy about you right?” Karla whispered in my ear as Crosby glanced at me from across the patio.

  Jessica walked over with cheeseburgers for me and Karla. “Who’s crazy about you?”

  I shook my head. “We’re just friends.”

  “Oh, Will and Jordan.” Jess took the seat across the table from us. “Sure, whatever you say.” Her pursed lips and eye roll made my entire body prickle with embarrassment. Am I really that transparent?

  Fidgeting with the hem at the bottom of my dress, I turned to her. “Seriously, have you seen the women he has been with? His ex-wife, supermodel. His last two girlfriends, supermodel and professional tennis player. Guys like him don’t slum it with chicks like me.” I hated thinking about the other women that Crosby had been with. They were all airheads that I was forced to play nice with whenever he would bring them around. They were usually short lived romances – but still, they irked me.

  Karla cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at me. “They are all exes for a reason, my dear. Don’t you think Brayden and Gavin have supermodels and professional athletes as notches on their belts? And look at them now.”

  “I think Gavin’s ex-fiancée, that crazy one…what the hell was her name?” Jessica was racking her brain for the wicked witch’s name.

  “Marsheila,” I answered. I hated even thinking about how terrible that day was for Gavin and the rest of us. Picking up those pieces was horrible for Sean and me.

  “Yeah, her. That cunt is an A-list actress.”

  “Touché.” I took another sip of my tequila slammer and I was about to continue my argument as to why Will Crosby didn’t think of me as more than just his teammate’s childhood friend but right as I opened my mouth, he walked up to us.

  I froze as his dark green eyes narrowed and locked onto me. His husky build towered over us as I ogled his muscles, trying to not drool.

  “Karla, Jess, do you mind if I steal Ms. Bates for a second?” Crosby held his hand out to me and my heart skipped a beat.

  “She’s all yours, Will. I need to go check on the kids anyway.” Karla got up to make her way into the house to check that all the children weren’t driving the nanny up a wall. Jessica followed her inside and I was whisked over to a gaggle of broad-chested hockey players. I recognized all of them as players on the team, but the only one I knew well enough to feel comfortable around was Chase Harding.

  “What can I do you for?” I giggled a little and wanted to slap myself for how silly I had just sounded.

  Crosby wrapped his arm around my shoulders nonchalantly before stating, “I need you to settle a little debate we’re having.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  In his think French accent, Felix Beaulieu explained, “We are debating on the actual recipe for a Horsefeather. I had one the other night for the first time and it was magnifique!”

  “It’s made with rye whiskey, ginger beer, and bitters, with a lemon wedge as a garnish. I haven’t made one of those in ages.” Leave it to Will to use me to settle a debate – typical. I was happy to help but a little sad that all he needed me for was the treasure trove of drink recipes I had stored in my brain.

  “See, I told you it was ginger beer, not ginger ale!” Crosby pointed down to me. “This chick is the best damn bartender ever.”

  My face got hot as I glanced up at him—his strong stubble-ridden jaw, his dark green eyes, his perfectly styled hair, the black button-down perfectly hugging his chest and biceps. I was a melting puddle of girl-jello on the spot.

  “Eh, I don’t know about best ever, but I do know my way around a bar quite well.”

  It wasn’t enough that I had the biggest crush on Crosby; being surrounded by all of his incredibly talented and hot teammates made it that much worse. I had grown up around the Otters since Gavin and I met when we were in elementary school so it wasn’t like I was a gushy fangirl or anything, but I was still in awe of them.

  Myla popped over to me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of my hunk-induced daze just in time to save me from swooning a little too much. I hated that she was taking my attention away from Crosby, but her smiling giddiness was adorable as she sweetly asked, “Are you working on Sunday?” She asked quickly.

  “I have family dinner, like every Sunday.” The thought of trying to convince Dad and my brothers to let me out of cooking for them was enough to make me feel anxious.

  “Damn. I forgot about that!” Myla tapped her finger on her pouting lip. “What about Thursday? Do you work that night?”

  “I don’t have to. Vince needs to be weaned off of me taking care of everything at the bar anyway. Why? What’s up?” I asked, taking the last sip of my drink.

  “Come to the game with us. I’ll have a box, and it has been too long since we all went to an Otters game together and cheered on our boys.”

  “Count me in!” I had been working so much that the only time I was able to enjoy the games were the quick moments I was able to catch my breath in between mixing cocktails and dealing with annoying customers.

  Myla bounced on her heels, pure jubilance emanating from her. “Perfect! It’s a date then.”

  “I’ve actually been meaning to give you a call, but work has just had me swamped these last few weeks.” It had been a while since I had seen Myla and the rest of the Hayes family. It was at her brother-in-law’s birthday dinner and I had been meaning to touch base on how everything played out for him.

  Myla stopped her jittering to walk over with me to sit on a bench. “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

  “How’s everything going with Griffin? Ever since his breakup and birthday, I’ve been a little worried about the kid.” Gavin’s little brother had been dumped the night before his birthday and was going through a mild quarter-life crisis.

  “I don’t know much. You know how easy it is to get a straight answer from the guy. All I know is that he is using a PI and looking for the donor’s daughter.”

  When Griffin was a teenager, he got a bad infection and needed a heart transplant. The night of his birthday party, Myla and I helped convince him to find the donor’s daughter to help him get some closure on the situation.

  “I’m glad he is going to look for her. I hope it all works out.”

  Myla chewed on her lower lip. “I just hope he doesn’t end up even more hurt and confused than he already is.”

  “Yeah, for sure. Griffin has definitely been through enough. Another letdown is the last thing he needs.”

  Chapter 3

  Jordan

  I glanced at the clock on the far wall in my father’s kitchen. Any minute now my brothers, their wives, and their children were going to be wreaking havoc on my childhood home.

  “Need any help in there?” Dad called from his recliner in the family room.

  Grabbing a beer, I made my way in to join him for a second to check the score on the Yankees game. “I got it all under control. Everything is almost finished, Pop. Here.”

  Dad took the beer from me. “Thanks sweetheart.” He looked so cute sitting with his faded blue ball cap on with his lucky shirt and matching socks. To say the man was superstitious was a complete understatement.

  “How’s the game?” I leaned on the plush arm of his favorite chair.

  “Eh.” Dad cracked his beer can open, huffing. “Bottom of the seventh. Chapman is pissing me off, walking way too many guys this game.”

  I couldn’t say I gave even a rat’s ass about baseball, but my father and brothers fucking loved it, so I pretended to care for their sakes.

  “Have you heard anything from Jacob this week? Is Janet going to grace us with her presence today?”

  My dad chuckled. “Fingers crossed, she doesn’t. Last week was so enjoyable without her awful faces. What do you call those again?”

  “Resting bitch face.” I laughed along with my dad.

  “Well, for Jacob’s sake, I hope they settle their differences. I hate seeing him going through all of this.”

  Dad did his usual shoulder shrug with his hands up in the air, and that was the end of the conversation. He hated the drama his daughters-in-law all caused the family. Life was much simpler when it was just the five of us. Having three older brothers, each with a wife and two kids, the quiet house became nothing short of a warzone for a few hours once a week. Even though it was stressful, I loved every second of the bat-shit-crazy Bates Family Sunday Funday.

  I made my way back into the kitchen to make sure I had everything perfect for the night.

  Pot roast almost done—check.

  Childproofing—check.

  Plenty of beer and wine in the fridge—check.

  German chocolate cake cooling—check.

  A few minutes after I finished making the coconut icing for our dessert, the front door flew open and the sounds of yelling and running engulfed the house.