THOROUGHLY PUCKED

  LAUREN BLAKELY

  This book is dedicated to Lo and Rae, who knew what I meant to do and made sure I did it.

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  About The Book

  Did you know?

  Author’s Note

  1. Keeping It Tight

  2. Objection

  3. Her Great Escape

  4. Do They Have Flip-Flops at 7-Eleven?

  5. Trash The Dress

  6. A Hard Time

  7. A Lucky Shot

  8. Lessons from A Cardboard Dick

  9. The Jilted Bride Refund

  10. Just Like Soup

  11. Well, She Is Single Now

  12. Honeymoon Present

  13. I’m Catnip

  14. Melts in Your Mouth

  15. Double Booked

  16. The Bed Proclamation

  17. The Curse of An Ass Man

  18. The Daily Dose of Good

  19. It’s A Whole Thing

  20. The Bang Prediction

  21. The Birds and the Bees

  22. The Path to Proper Kissing

  23. The View, People

  24. The Lucky One

  25. The Other Kind of Hanging Out

  26. There Will Be Foreplay

  27. Things Are Better

  28. Delayed Gratification

  29. Morning Dreams

  30. Why Can’t I Punch Grapes?

  31. The Nice Man

  32. I See Plays

  33. The Goddess

  34. Show Me

  35. Just The Tip

  36. Sex Math

  37. New Honeymoon

  38. An Erection Selection

  39. Natural Painkillers

  40. Melt Your Heart

  41. Taste Test

  42. Taking Turns

  43. Nose Breakers

  44. Told You So

  45. Did the Butt Plug Lie?

  46. Fail Again

  47. Mister Cuddles

  48. Calico Jack

  49. Hat Day

  50. Is This A Kidnapping?

  51. Man-Batical

  52. Jersey Girl

  53. Fairy Godbrother

  54. Fast Forward

  55. Yes, Baby

  56. The Third Man

  57. The Hot Vet

  58. Game Time

  59. Date Math

  Epilogue

  Excerpt - Plays Well With Others

  Be A Lovely

  More Books by Lauren

  Contact

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2024 by Lauren Blakely

  LaurenBlakely.com

  Illustration by © Kylie Sek

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Picture this. I’m about to walk down the aisle when the groom decides to drop this news on me – he wants to dial it down to just f-buddies.

  That’s when my brother’s two pro-hockey playing buddies sneak me out of the church seconds before the wedding march begins. They whisk me away in a convertible and we hit the open road.

  But what’s a runaway bride to do with a broken heart and a non-refundable honeymoon? Book an extra ticket and take a double honeymoon with two off-limits, totally charming, absolutely gorgeous star athletes who want to lift my spirits.

  When we arrive there’s only bed in the hotel room.

  And it happens to fit three. The goalie, the forward and me.

  Looks like I’m about to get thoroughly pucked on my double honeymoon. Talk about lifting my spirits…

  DID YOU KNOW?

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  Did you know this book is also available in audio and paperback on all major retailers? Go to my website for links!

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  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Dear Readers,

  Since this is a runaway bride storyline, the action MUST take place before the start of the season. While both heroes play pro hockey and talk about it quite a bit throughout the story, the on-ice action does not begin until much later in the storyline, due to the timing of the trip. Rest assured, you’ll see hockey scenes…eventually. Until then, enjoy the hockey hotties!

  Also, McDoodle Island is a fictional island in Washington State’s Puget Sound. It’s a mix of Whidbey Island and Vashon Island, both of which are beautiful, outdoorsy, and a little bit whimsical.

  xoxo

  Lauren

  1

  KEEPING IT TIGHT

  Aubrey

  They say every girl dreams about her wedding day, but who are they, and how do they know? Did they interview every girl? Also, screw that lie.

  I never dreamed of this.

  I’m in the musty, wood-paneled bridal room at the non-denominational neighborhood church where my parents were hitched and where my mom still serves as chorus director. I peer down at the lace and tulle dress that feels too long as it grazes my ankles, the diamond solitaire on my ring finger that’s a touch too loose, then the princess-cut lace bodice that’s too pretty for my taste.

  This is someone else’s dream for me.

  I smooth a shaky hand over my dress, then spin around and meet the gazes of my two bridesmaids—my bookish longtime bestie, Trina, and my feisty and fabulous friend, Ivy.

  I put all my energy on them and their unmatching black dresses—I let them pick their outfits because…have you seen bridesmaid’s dresses? “You both look amazing,” I say, since why focus on me when I can focus on others?

  Trina turns it right back on me though, saying, “You look beautiful, Aubs.”

  “It’s your day and you’re gorgeous,” Ivy adds.

  I give a big, playful shoulder shrug and pluck at my dress. “This thing? I just grabbed it from a hanger in the closet.” I’m the fun one, the loud one, the friendly one. So that’s who I’ll be right now, dammit.

  Trina holds up a hand. “Stop for just a second and listen…You do look beautiful.”

  It’s all too much—these compliments, this dress, this day, these last few minutes before I say I do. “Thanks,” I say, fidgeting with my ring.

  Sensing trouble, Trina steps closer, saying with concern, “You don’t seem like yourself, Aubs.”

  “If you need anything, just say the word,” Ivy puts in, then points to the door. “Ride or die.”

  That offer is far too tempting, but I really shouldn’t go there, even in my head.

  Aiden’s the guy for me. He has been since we went to prom together ten years ago. Since we dated again when he returned to Duck Falls briefly after college. And since my wise old dad with the soft, squishy heart told my mom he thought Aiden would be the perfect husband.

  “I’m all good,” I say, managing to sound peppy for my friends. I jerk my gaze to the window, staring longingly through the freshly cleaned glass at the parking lot and the white, electric convertible my brother rented for us.

  But what if friendly, outgoing Aiden Peters, who returned to town last year to run his family’s pie shop, isn’t the guy I should marry? My gut churns. I hate making a scene, but surely, Trina and Ivy will have the answer. “Girls, I’m not sure if I⁠—”

  The door swings open with a loud thunk, the wood slapping the wall behind it.

  Ivy flinches. Trina snaps her gaze to the slim guy in jeans and a polo, a smattering of freckles across his fair complexion, his blond hair incongruously messy for today. Aiden’s here and he’s not wearing his tux.

  Ivy whips out an arm, pointing to the door. “Rules, Aiden! You can’t see Aubrey.”

  “And hello? Put your freaking tux on,” Trina jumps in, like she can’t believe sweet, teddy-bear Aiden forgot to don his duds. “You’re getting married in ten minutes.”

  Aiden plucks at his lavender pastel shirt, like this thing? “Actually, I think I look pretty good for today.”

  I startle, his odd comment and odd demeanor knocking me further off my game. “W-what do you mean?” I stammer, but there’s a weirdly shameful hope rising inside me.

  “Yeah. What do you mean
?” Trina demands.

  With his best customer-service-in-a-small-town smile, Aiden grabs the door handle, then shows them the way out. “I promise I’ll be quick, ladies. I just need a teeny second with the bride.”

  Not my bride. The bride. That hope rises a little higher.

  Trina arches a brow. Ivy practically growls at him, then snaps her gaze back to me. “What were you going to say?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” I say to my friends, reassuring them. Truth is, I’m dying to know why Aiden’s here dressed like that. Dear god, please say he cheated on me. Stole from me. Fell in mad love with the wedding planner and is running away with her.

  They shut the door and it’s just us and my big, inappropriate hope. “So listen,” he begins, and a few bubbles flow through my veins.

  For the record, listen is when you know a dude is about to say something dastardly. Why does this fill me with a strange sort of giddy relief?

  “I’m listening,” I say, crossing my fingers behind my back.

  “You’re a great girl and all,” he says.

  There it is. The line that precedes the dump. My heart beats faster. Bring it on. Tell me you’ve been making lattes after dark with the coffee shop owner down the block so I can throw things at you indignantly, like that candle on the coffee table or the songbook. “And you’re seriously hot,” he says.

  Wait. He’s supposed to feel guilty as he admits he cheated like a selfish jackass. “You’re complimenting me before you⁠—”

  “—Yes, I am,” he says, so matter-of-factly, and a little out of character, too, as he steps closer, grips my shoulders, and looks me up and down salaciously. With a long, lingering rumble in his throat, he adds, “We had some good sex, didn’t we?”

  I blink. Where is his I’m banging the barista confession? The I’m eloping with the wedding planner proclamation? The I drained your bank account blurt-out?

  “Okay?” I ask, because did we even have good sex? It seemed middling to me, but what do I know? I’m just a girl with a big vibrator collection.

  “And last night when I was out at the piano bar in the city with the guys, all I could think about was you. And how I just couldn’t wait for our wedding night. How great the sex would be. How often we’d do it. How much I just, well, let me be blunt,” he says, like he’s been anything but ultra-blunt in the last three minutes, but he takes a deep breath, then finishes his deep thought. “How much I like sex.”

  He grabs my bare arm, maybe needing to hold on through his ode to nookie. “But also how little I had of it in high school. None is more accurate.” He shakes his head over that awful memory. “Same for college. None there too.” Another sorrowful shake before he recovers from the hell of his, evidently, barren past. “But now? I can have so much sex now that I’m in my late twenties.”

  And I’m beginning to see the dots connecting. I wriggle away from the hold Aiden has on my arm so I can get some distance while my erstwhile groom gazes happily out the window. “There’s so much sex to be had.” He tilts his head as he meets my eyes again. There’s a warm kind of seriousness in his expression. He’s buying this bill of goods he’s selling. Really buying it. “I think we’re both better off exploring that great world out there, right?”

  This is how he calls it off? With his explorer dick as his new compass? And me as his…first mate? “You’re canceling the wedding so you can have more sex with more women?” I ask with staccato breaths. I need to make sure I’m one hundred percent clear on what he’s saying.

  Aiden gestures grandly to me, a show of his magnanimity. “And you can have sex too.” Tapping his sternum, he adds, “Whatever or whoever floats your boat.”

  “How generous.”

  He must miss my sarcasm since he rocks back and forth on his heels and says earnestly, “Thanks.” He pauses, like he’s gearing up to make a big request. “And maybe we can.”

  What? “W-we? What are you talking about?”

  He blows out an appreciative breath. “Well, you know how to keep it tight, after all.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to pull myself out of this nightmare.

  I’m supposed to be the problem. But I didn’t imagine he’d back out so he could just fuck me—AND EVERYONE ELSE—instead.

  He’s definitely the problem now.

  When I open my eyes, I try to catch my breath as I collect my thoughts. “Let me get this straight. You don’t want to marry me. But you still want to screw me?”

  He points finger guns at me. Bang, bang. “Tonight even?” Aiden asks, hopeful as he checks his watch. “I decided I’m going to move to Miami. Good thing I didn’t move in with you yet, right?”

  I have to agree with him there. “Yes,” I bite out.

  “I was never cut out for this small-town life anyway, so hear me out. What if…we hook up? I’ve got some neckties from my Catholic school uniform back in the day. You want to be tied to the bedposts, I bet?” He steps closer, gathers some of the tulle near my thigh, fingers it. “I could fuck my former bride tonight. While you’re still in this wedding dress. How hot would that be?”

  My shock—and my shameful hope—is replaced by red-hot rage. A plume of anger licks my veins. “You actually think I want to be fuck buddies with you?”

  His smile is hopeful, a kid asking please. “I do.”

  That is not the I do I’d expected. I’m swaying. I’m dizzy. How did this moment go from me imagining him dumping me for another woman, stealing my money, or, I don’t know, burning down my house, to him dumping me so he could enter his making-up-for-lost-time era?

  He hooks his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, rocks back on his sneakers. “What do you say?”

  Is he for real? But one long glance at his too wide smile, and the genuine anticipation in his eyes, and I have my answer. He means every leading-with-his-dick word. I point to the door, the hundreds of guests beyond. “What do you plan to say to all those people in the church? Your parents? How do you think they’ll take this? Or my mom? Do you really want to go out there and tell them you’re working on your bedroom moves? You’re dialing it down? You’re breaking out your neckties for a new use?”

  Aiden taps his chin, hesitating. “Fair point. Know what? All that time doing hair, you can talk to anyone. You can smooth anything over. I’m gonna pass this one off to you, sweetie pie,” he says, then leans in and drops an ambush of a scratchy kiss to my cheek, leaving behind a whiff of wilted lettuce on his breath. He didn’t even brush his teeth before he dumped me on our wedding day? Then, just in case this day couldn’t get worse, he presses a key card into my hand. “Meet me tonight at eight. Room 131 at the Airport Inn before my flight tomorrow morning.”

  My head explodes as I throw the card back at him. “You booked an airline ticket out of town before you broke it off?”

  With zero remorse, he says, “There was only one super-saver flight left when I checked this morning, so I grabbed it. Airlines,” he says with a you get it shake of his head.

  The plume turns into a wildfire, eating all the acreage inside me as I whirl around, grab the songbook, and cock it at his head.

  But on his invitation to bone, he’s already yanked open the door, and is sauntering out.

  A free man.

  I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m standing in the bridal room, gripping a freaking songbook aimed at his disappearing frame. Out there, a million of my family’s friends, including my very eager big sister and my even more eager mother, are waiting for me to walk down the aisle, waiting for my brother to give me away to a getaway groom who’s ghosted me.

  My brother! That’s it.

  Garrett’s the calm one. Garrett’s the cool one. He always knows what to do. I gather my skirt and race across the bridal room, hunting down my clutch purse on an ottoman in the corner, snapping it open with shaky fingers, and fishing out my phone.

  As I text him, tears I didn’t expect rain down. Hot, heavy, sorrowful tears.

  But why the hell am I so sad when this is what I actually dreamed of last night?

  2

  OBJECTION

  Dev