Page 7 of Triple Power Play 3
“That’s what you focus on?”
“Yeah, it sounds suspicious.”
She never ceases to amaze me. “No one gets my body but you, baby girl. Is that better?”
“Yes. Go on.” She gestures with her hand.
“You marry Jax, but you give yourself to me. You wear his ring, butIhave control. I ensure you have everything your heart desires, and you focus on you and the baby—nothing more. Not work. Not the case.”
She blinks, blinks again. “Okay.”
That’s it? No smart-ass comments?
My knuckles ghost over her cheekbone. “That’s my girl. Email me your expenses. Send Felicity your notice. Understand?”
Her head bobs gently, a faint smile playing on her lips. “You said everything my heart desires?”
I nod.
“Well, I have a list of stipulations.”
There it is.I trace my thumb over my bottom lip to hide my amusement. “Do your worst, love. Let me hear it.”
Chin held high, she projects an air of superiority. “I’d like the loft studio—if the twins aren’t using it—for my own clothing line.”
“Easy. Done.” I’m one thousand percent certain they bought it for her anyway.
“I walk the runway next year.”
“Not if you’re pregnant—talk to your fiancé about that.”
She drops her chin, her gaze unwavering. “I want my bodyguard reinstated. Make it happen, Blackwood, and you can have whatever you want.”
Now, it’s my turn to blink in astonishment. When the shock wears off, I toss my head back, laughter bursting from my chest and reverberating through the cabin as tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
This fucking girl.
Avoiding Aurora proves to be harder than expected. I finally have her with me, and I devise a plan to keep her away. What is wrong with me? Sometimes, the part of my brain that demands control is an uncompromising and jaded asshole.
I settle into my room and force myself to focus on preparing for tonight’s game. I’m already behind schedule, and I missed morning skate.
Only for them do I neglect my responsibilities—or perhaps I’m choosing my priorities.
Jackson’s suspension prevents him from being with the team, which is helpful. I don’t feel guilty about leaving Aurora alone, but I constantly wonder what they’re doing.
They mentioned exploring the European-style city, and my mind plagues me with worries. I haven’t discussed the bodyguard situation with Jax. I doubt it’ll go over well.
Instead of paying attention in meetings, I find myself texting him to be sure Aurora dresses warm, eats a solid meal, and doesn’t leave his side. He replies with his usual snarky ‘Yes, Dad,’ but he doesn’t send me any pictures—not that I asked. Still, it’s disappointing.
The team gathers in the lobby before the game, security present, fans snapping photos, a few players signing autographs. My coaching staff and I are the last to arrive. The excitement is palpable; smiles abound, and conversations are filled with laughter. The team hasn’t been this animated all season.
Then I see why.
My assistant coach slows his steps beside me. “Wow…she’s…”
“Mine,” I blurt, a stony glare solidifying my absurd possessiveness.
He shoots me a sidelong glance, an amused glint in his eyes, a smirk on his lips. “Damn, I was about to say…here. She’shere…with O’Reilly.”
