Page 37 of One Good Puck
“Let me guess. You did the decorations,” I say to Del.
He rolls his eyes and fights a smile. “You guessed it.”
He looks over to the far side of the bar, where Ingrid is posing for photos with a group of her friends against the exposed brick wall. They’re all holding red heart-shaped balloons. She’s wearing a flowy white dress, and all her friends are wearing red dresses.
“This was all Ingrid,” Del says.
“I figured that.”
The second she’s done taking photos, she walks over to where Del and I are standing. She hands me a glass of red wine.
“So thrilled you made it, Coach Porter. Hope you like Chianti.”
“It’s my favorite.” I take a sip.
Del slides his arm around his fiancée and pulls her close. She gazes at him with a giddy smile. He’s not smiling, but I could spot that adoring look in his eyes a thousand miles away.
I crack a smile. That grumpy fucker is so in love.
“Congrats to you both. And well done to you, Ingrid. This party is beautiful.” I gesture to the space.
She beams. “Thanks. I can do more than post on social media. I can throw together a pretty fantastic gathering too,” she jokes. “Oh, but Abby hand-painted the sign. Doesn’t it look beautiful?”
I glance over at it.
“I can throw a fantastic party, minus any artwork,” Ingrid jokes.
“You can do anything you put your mind to, sweetheart.” Del kisses her cheek. Her fair skin flushes red, and all of a sudden, it feels like I’m intruding on an intimate moment between the happy couple.
I walk off to the hors d’oeuvres table. I’m biting into a stuffed mushroom when I see Abby walk in.
I stop chewing. Holyshit.
She’s wearing this strapless red dress that dips low in the front…low enough that I can see the swell of her boobs.
I clear my throat, then immediately start coughing.
I thump my chest. A second later, someone slaps a hand on my back.
“You okay?” Xander asks.
I nod, even though I’m still coughing. I wipe my mouth with a napkin. He hands me a glass of water.
I guzzle it and manage a strangled, “Thanks.”
“Down the wrong pipe?” he asks, before glancing across the bar. When he sees Abby, a knowing smirk appears on his smug face. “Oh, I see.”
“Watch it,” I order.
He holds up a hand, laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Sophie asks when she walks up to us.
“Oh, nothing. Just your dad is choking on his own tongue at the sight of Abby.”
She turns and looks at her. “Wow. She looks incredible in that dress.”
“I don’t know what Xander is talking about,” I mutter.
