I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5) - Pippa Grant Page 0,96

of people who’d accept me without question the way I’m learning to accept myself, I’d like to think it’s the people who love the man who’s trying to rescue me from myself.

I nod and continue. “After medical school, I wanted to find something to do to help people, and I’ve always felt like I didn’t quite fit anywhere, so when I overheard two women talking in a coffee shop one morning about how hard it was to find guys who couldn’t look past the way they had a few curves and thought for themselves and liked to do Star Trek cosplay, it was like I’d found my calling. I didn’t have a clue who I’d set them up with, but I told them I ran a service called Muff Matchers and that I wanted to help them out.”

“Wow,” murmurs Staci’s husband, Javi, whose infected testicles are apparently fine now, and no, I’m not thinking about that.

“That takes serious balls,” Britney says, because she, obviously, is.

Everyone looks at Javi.

“Fudge you all,” he mutters.

“Fudge!” Britney’s twins yell together.

The rest of the kids take up the battle cry, and soon Tyler’s parents are sharing a look and snickering to themselves while their children try to get the grandchildren to focus on food again.

It’s fucking awesome.

They’re dysfunctional in their own way, but I adore them. Every last one.

I get hugs all around when we split up at Mink Arena. They’re heading to the party suite, and I’m meeting my clients at the hot dog stand across the street.

It’s relatively new, but it’s seriously hopping.

Mostly because whoever opened it licensed the use of Thrusty, the Thrusters’ official rocket-powered bratwurst mascot, for marketing purposes, and they sell Thrusty Dogs and Thrusties on a Stick.

Not gonna lie. If I’d thought of that first, I probably wouldn’t be matchmaking.

Brianna’s the first to arrive, and she’s dressed for the occasion. Thrusters jersey, Thrusters sweatpants, Thrusters handbag, and Thrusters bratwurst hat. Legit, the hat is like a three-dimensional stuffed bratwurst on her head, like those Cheesehead hats, except Thrusty’s flying out of her forehead instead of a block of cheese eating it. “I’ll get a foam finger inside,” she tells me.

Maren arrives next, and she takes one look at Brianna’s hat and gasps. “Want! Oh my god. Where did you get that hat?”

Brianna beams. “I made it.”

“You made it?”

“Yeah. I watched some YouTube when I was bored after class while Steve was working, and I figured it out.”

Now we’re both gaping at her. “That’s freaking amazing,” I sputter.

She shrugs. “My grandpa tried to teach me how to make all my own clothes when I was growing up since the usual stuff didn’t fit, so I already knew how to use a sewing machine. I never liked to before because it reminded me that I wasn’t a size two.”

“I love that your grandpa taught you,” Maren says with a smile.

“Our family’s been bucking trends since 1842.”

When everyone else arrives, I pass out the tickets and we head inside.

Yes, Tyler got them for me.

I’m still sorting out the credit card issue. Namely, how I’m going to pay it all off on top of my student loans.

It’s a really good thing I actually made a couple matches and have Cod Pieces for backup.

We get to our seats right as the Thrusters take the ice for warm-ups, and I get a serious thrill when I spot number ninety-one doing his usual half-lap sprint before snagging a puck with his stick and sending it flying into the empty net.

Phoebe, who’s never been to a hockey game, leans around Maren, hands me her binoculars, and points. “Tell me why forty-two and eighty-two are humping the ice, and are either of them single? Please tell me they’re single.”

“Nick Murphy and Connor Klein. Goaltenders. They’re stretching since they’ll be diving all over the net blocking pucks, and they have to move fast. Nick’s married to my cousin. Connor’s single and loving it.”

“Your cousin sleeps with a guy who can do the splits?”

Maren, who’s one of Kami’s best friends, makes a gagging sound. I crack up.

“It only looks like that because he has such big pads on,” Maren says. “In real life, I have never once seen Nick Murphy do the splits.” She sighs. “But he can get closer than I can.”

“I’ve seen him open a jar of peanut butter,” I offer.

“Ooooh,” everyone says, and then we’re all cracking up again.

I use Phoebe’s binoculars to look closer at Tyler. The guys are in two lines now, moving fast as