Playmaker - Jami Davenport Page 0,57

ate after almost running out one morning.

There were barbecues, parties, and good times.

I was swept away by a tsunami of activity and sex, and I didn’t fight it. I was in denial my perfect world might crash down on me after the wedding, because what else could I do?

If I’d ever doubted my love for Lanie, one thing became crystal clear. As each day passed, I loved her more. I didn’t know how that was possible, but it was.

Tonight, the night before the wedding, was the bachelor party being held at the Parker mansion, thanks to the team owner. The location alone gave the team notice this party wouldn’t be a drunken debauchery. I was good with that. I’d outgrown such things when I’d met Lanie. The women were having their own bachelorette party hosted by Lavender Harris, the wife of the former Steelhead quarterback now coach, Tyler Harris. Lavender and Caro had met a few months ago while doing fundraising together for a joint sports wives’ charity benefitting child cancer.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a wilder affair than the one Steele planned for Easton. Already, some teammates were grousing about how dull it would be and organizing their own party afterward. Ziggy and Cave, who’d been involved in the brawl that had resulted in our suspension from the team, were ready to party till they passed out—their words, not mine. They didn’t learn their lesson, but they didn’t have a good female by their side either. At least they’d be in a private home and not in a bar with unsuspecting patrons and idiots stupidly drunk enough to take them on.

Since I wasn’t partying and didn’t have an active role in planning the bachelor party, I accepted the unofficial role of babysitter for those two clowns. I wouldn’t be able to stop them from getting shit-faced; no one could do that. I could, however, prevent them from getting into a fight and busting up the Parker mansion. That was my mission tonight, which freed up Steele to manage the party, Axel to help, and Easton to enjoy himself worry-free.

When we entered the large building, Ethan Parker and his wife, Lauren, were already there. I hadn’t realized they’d be in attendance. My job had just gotten easier. That’d definitely put a damper on any out-of-control celebrations. Even Cave and Ziggy weren’t that stupid.

Steele calmly and efficiently gave orders to the many staff hustling about, while Axel greeted guests, and I hung out wishing I was with Lanie. The room filled quickly with teammates, staff, and coaches. The catering and decorations were handled by local businesses, paid handsomely to take on this task at the last minute. I heard rumors Mr. Parker was footing the bill. Since he had billions, I doubted it put a dent in his bankroll.

I’d been nervous about seeing many of my teammates and coaches for the first time since I’d been suspended, but I shouldn’t have worried. For the most part, they seemed to forgive me, though some muttered unflattering comments about rookies, and others lectured me on what a dumb-shit move that’d been. A few shot me scathing glares, and I avoided those few. Guys like that needed more time to cool off. I lost track of the number of apologies I gave that night.

Since my wards hadn’t arrived yet, I wandered over to the buffet and picked up a plate, perusing the choices with the eye of a wannabe chef. Someone had filled in the caterers on how much hockey players ate. Rather than the usual tiny appetizers I’d seen at many charity functions, serving platters were heaped with prime rib, salad, mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, chicken, salmon, and some veggie dishes, and there was a huge table packed with various desserts.

My stomach rumbled with appreciation, reminding me I hadn’t eaten for hours. I liked to eat as much as I liked to cook. I filled my plate and found a quiet corner to watch the action and wolf down some incredible grub. A waitress relieved me of my plate, and I grabbed a beer from the open bar in the corner. The cute bartender flirted with me, tried to give me her number, but I turned her down and left a big tip. She shrugged, thanked me for the tip, and moved on to our rookie goalie, Roman Maxwell, who was definitely on the market. I wandered away, stopping when I heard my name.

“Westbrook.”

I turned toward the voice, and team captain