I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5) - Pippa Grant Page 0,53

so your brother and his wife wouldn’t figure out that I’m basically a failure.”

“What? No. I thought—”

“That I couldn’t handle talking about my own business, which I do every day, with your very successful sister-in-law?”

“Muffy—”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Thank you. Again. For being here. I know you hate funerals, I know I should’ve told you that’s what this was, and I know I shouldn’t have burdened you with anything that I burdened you with last night, and I—”

“Stop saying thank you,” he hisses. “This is what friends do. And we’re friends. And I’m not embarrassed by you. I didn’t want—”

“Muffy? Oh my god, Muffy, is that you?”

My shoulders hitch up to my forehead as I slowly turn to face Connie Bragowski.

Doctor Connie Bragowski.

Who clearly doesn’t care for the sanctity of the moment of having Veda’s dad lowered into the ground, and who apparently might have a new last name, if the stunning man in the custom-tailored pinstripe suit and million-dollar hairstyle standing next to her is any indication.

Maybe he’s her fake funeral date.

“Muffy! Oh my god, it is you. I told Hendrick that there was no way you were back after you basically ghosted the entire school after you auctioned off your virginity, but oh my god, here you are! This is Hendrick. Hendrick Meyer. Yes, of those Meyers. We got married last summer.” The annoying skinny cow shoves her hand in my face so that I can see a diamond ring the size of the Titanic surrounded by diamond chips the size of large tugboats.

Tyler steps between us before I can say a word. “Hi. Tyler Jaeger. I’m Muffy’s boy toy. Offered to be here for fun, not because I have to be for risk of pissing off the ol’ ball and chain. We’re hooking up with one of my teammates for a threesome later. You follow the Thrusters? Heard of Rooster Applebottom? Guy’s freaky. But we don’t fuck around with married people. Sorry. Can’t invite you.”

I choke on air.

Connie goes completely silent.

Hendrick clears his throat.

And everyone who was watching the casket get lowered turns to stare at us.

“Oh, shit, did I do that awkward thing again?” Tyler looks at me and rolls his eyes. “Babe, you gotta tell me when I’m supposed to keep the handcuffs out of the cemetery.”

I try to talk, but all that comes out is a strangled noise that sounds like I’m a mooing cow.

Yeah. I sound like my cousin Kami’s “dog.”

Tyler grins and slides a hand to my ass. “Alright. If you insist. I’ll wear the bridle this time.”

Connie gapes, then abruptly turns on her heel, trips—mental note: the grass is soft and I should not attempt quick turns in my own heels—and face plants while her husband watches.

“C’mon, sexy pants.” Tyler squeezes my ass. “Let’s go pay our respects to the lovely doctor.”

Instead of steering me toward Veda, though, he spins me into his body, grabs me by the back of my head, and slams his mouth over mine.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

I am not a good kisser. I’ve had exactly three boyfriends in my entire life, and two of them were when I was in high school, one of which was freshman year, when we thought dating meant passing notes in class, and he was only my boyfriend in my head and never actually knew I thought he was my soulmate for six weeks, three days, and four hours.

Kissing practice?

My mother only thinks I have it because I try to out-outrageous her at every opportunity, and also because I have to tell her I’m going somewhere when I leave for all my shifts at Cod Pieces. I’m all talk.

But Tyler is all action.

And oh my god, is he action.

It wasn’t like this in the fridge. In the fridge, he was handsy and only a little kissy after the first attempt got awkward, plus it was all over so fast, but now?

His lips are hot and aggressive, and I can’t keep up with what he’s doing with them, but I don’t think it matters, because if I quit thinking and let myself go, my body knows.

My mouth knows.

My hands are gliding all over his chest, over the thick, warm fabric of his white shirt, under the wool of his outer coat, my fingers taking in more solid muscle than they’ve felt since I was poking cadavers in my med school days, which is not something I want to think about while Tyler’s grinding his pelvis against mine and