One Night Puck: Las Vegas Angels Duet Series, #3

By Jessa York

Trey

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Or does it?

Not when you're the star right winger of the new, Las Vegas startup team, it doesn't.

When my Elvis impersonator officiated, quickie wedding—to a barely legal, smokin' hot woman goes viral—the team owners have their own solution to that problem.

And it sure isn't an annulment.

With her name now tattooed on my ring finger, we have to find a way to make this work.

Even if it's not for real.

Lexi

After screwing up royally on my last team, I get traded.

I promise myself I won't mess up like that again.

I certainly won't party so hard on my first night in Sin City that I end up marrying star right-winger, Trey Turner—known for his penchant for three in a bed.

Except when I accidentally, sort of do.

And when I realize that having his name tattooed on my ring finger might not be the worst thing I've ever done...

How do I hide my real feelings in our fake relationship? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessa York
• Release date: May 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201437688

Book preview

1

Trey

---

Bright.

Sun?

Flashlights?

What was that glaring against my closed eyelids?

I argued with myself, not wanting to open my eyes and find out. My head thumped with a dull ache each time my heart beat.

Ouch, I said, rolling over in some of the softest sheets I’d been in. It was difficult to appreciate them fully due to the fact my head was getting ready to split in half.

Hmm, I heard a muffled whine coming from beside me that instantly had me opening my eyes. A beautiful, pink, flowered tattoo filled my field of vision.

A beautiful, pink tattoo that I had spent time tracing with my tongue—among other things—last night.

Oh, Christ.

Last night.

A sharp, shooting pain stabbed directly into my brain.

My finger hurt, too. Not bad, just superficially. Like I’d burned it or something.

I lifted my hand to take a peek at the offending digit, when I saw dark, black, fancy lettering on my—ring finger.

What the fuck?

I squinted my dry, sandpaper eyes, trying to see what it said.

L-E-X-I.

Oh, shit.

My heart started drumming intensely inside my chest—making my head pound even more.

I twisted toward the nightstand and sat up on the edge of the bed. My stomach gave a bit of a lurch at the movement and my head protested again.

Ah, goddamn neck, I twisted it from side to side. Then my back decided to complain.

As usual.

Thanks to the accident.

Instinctively, my hand reached for the orange pill bottle.

As I dragged it toward me, a large, cream colored paper beneath it floated delicately to the floor. I popped open the bottle and dumped a couple of pills into my hand.

After I swallowed them down, I groaned and picked up the fallen paper. Turning it over, I saw, Certificate of Marriage in huge letters on the top.

Then my name.

Then Lexi’s name.

Holy shit, I said, letting my head fall forward as the gravity of the current situation hit me.

Hard.

Married?

Oh, my God. What the hell did we do last night? I muttered to myself. However, an answer came from behind me.

Look, I realize I don’t know you at all, but I haven’t been this hungover in a while. Do you think you could keep it down for a few more hours? Lexi grumbled in a muffled voice. She must be talking into her pillow.

I gingerly turned back around and held out the paper still in my hand. Did you see this? I asked, wondering how much of last night she remembered.

Christ, how much did I remember?

I tried my best to rewind my brain without it hurting too much.

Flashes of bright lights, loud music, more bright lights, and more loud music—then I recalled removing that pink dress of hers from her smokin’ hot body.

After that, all I remembered was a tangle of arms and legs—and everything in between.

She didn’t move, so, I gently nudged her shoulder. Sweetheart, take a look for a sec, will ya? I asked, my voice holding a bit more annoyance than I had intended. I didn’t want to be the only one freaking out about what we’d done.

Ugh, what are you going on and on about, man? I just want a few more hours of sleep and then I’ll be out of your way, she said as she reluctantly rolled over. Her hair was plastered to her face, and she kept trying unsuccessfully to swipe it off.

I let out a chuckle, even though it hurt my head. Here, here, move your hands, I said, brushing away her long locks so she could see. Her makeup was smeared all over her beautiful face.

Almost like it had melted and run directly down and sideways.

Even still, this chick was hot.

I handed her the marriage certificate and she held it up to her face. My eyes don’t work yet. Hang on, she said, making me laugh as she closed her eyes and dropped her hand down to the bed.

After a minute, her mouth went slack, and her breathing slowed.

Lexi, wake up, I said, poking her in the arm.

She jolted awake, her bleary looking eyes finding me. I wasn’t sleeping. I was just resting my eyes.

Her attitude more than amused me.

This was far from my first one-night stand.

Absolutely not the first time I’d slept with someone after just meeting them.

But, every time I’d been in this situation, it was always me telling the woman—or women—to be quiet and let me sleep.

When you played at the highest level of hockey—like I did—a multitude of chicks became available at your beck and call.

Some were just out for a good time.

Some were interested in trapping you and starting something more.

And that was the very last thing in the world I was interested in.

Nope, not me.

I’d never settle down.

I enjoyed my life exactly how it was.

Read it. We need to talk, I said, nodding toward the document in her hand.

She let out a loud huffing noise and sat up, holding the bedsheet to her chest. Then her elbows squeezed close to her body, so both hands were free to hold the paper. Ugh, what did I drink last night? she asked, as one hand slid to her head.

What didn’t we drink last night? I asked while a flash of us laughing and doing a multitude of shots at various bars ran through my brain.

When she finally focused on the paper in her hand, she brought it closer to her face. This does not say what it says, she whispered, her eyes squinting as her head got even closer to the certificate.

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I waited for it to sink in. A small part of me had wondered if she’d be excited that we were married.

This does not say what it says! she yelled, tossing the paper into the air as though it were on fire. Then she jumped out of bed like it was attempting to swallow her up. She took the entire top sheet with her as she moved.

It says exactly that. Look at your ring finger, I said, gazing down again at mine. I had to admit, it looked fantastic. The curly lettering looked almost gothic, but classy at the same time.

Lexi stuck out her left hand as she frowned. That frown dropped from her face, being replaced by complete and utter shock. Oh, no, no, no, she said before the thumb on her right hand rubbed at the new tattoo on her left ring finger like she was trying to erase the new markings.

Ow, ow, ow, she said, shaking her hand like crazy in the air.

I cringed thinking about how much it probably hurt right now.

Oh my gosh, my dad is going to murder me, she said, throwing her head back. She wrapped the sheet around her like a giant toga and began nervously pacing back and forth. Her head suddenly snapped to me, and she let out a loud sigh before her eyes shut tightly. Like, as in actually murder me.

Her dad, Wes Hunter, had been my hockey hero since I’d put on my first pair of skates.

I had a ton of posters of him on the walls in my childhood bedroom.

In fact, unless my mom took them down since the last time I was home—they should all still be there.

Lexi raised a hand in the air and looked up. I mean taking his bike was bad enough. But now this? Then she continued walking back and forth until I was even dizzier than I’d been.

Sweetheart, stop, I said in as gentle a voice as possible. By the way she persisted in stomping around and muttering to herself, I was fairly certain she hadn’t heard me. Or if she had, she was ignoring me.

Lexi, stop! You’re making me dizzy, for Christ’s sake, I shouted, making her stop abruptly.

What? she asked, as though I were the one acting imbalanced.

Settle down. We’ll figure this out, I said, not really believing my own words. I had to say something to calm her hissy fit, though.

Although watching her freak out was possibly the most entertaining thing I’d seen in a long damn time.

Her hand went to her hip as she scowled at me. How can you be so calm? We’ve ruined our lives! My dad was already going to kill me after the whole houseboat incident, she said, using her fingers to make the quote sign, making me more than curious to learn what she was talking about, and then I took his bike. And now I got married in Vegas? She stared like she was waiting for me to realize the gigantic mistake we’d made.

Surprisingly, I felt a sharp jab of pain in my chest at her words.

I mean, no, I didn’t want to be married to her either. But hearing and watching how it affected her right now made me somehow feel—well, I didn’t know exactly, but it felt—weird.

We’ll work it out. I promise. I’m sure we’re not the only ones waking up married in Vegas right now. Let’s order breakfast and then we’ll figure out what to do next, I suggested. And surprisingly, now that my pain pills had kicked in, I was beginning to feel hungry.

Lexi flew over to the table beside the bed and picked up her phone. Breakfast? It’s three in the afternoon! Oh my gosh, I’m dead meat! She held up her phone for me to see the time on her display and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Gigi has called me twenty times! What am I supposed to tell her? Lexi’s beautiful, blue eyes were glaring at me, waiting for an answer.

Gigi was her teammate, and long-time friend.

Gigi was also my best friend.

A new friend, but by far the best friend I’d ever had in my life.

She was definitely going to kill both of us when she found out what we’d done.

Nothing. I’m going to shower. You, I said, pointing my finger at her, are ordering us food. Get me coffee and pancakes if they’ll still make them. Otherwise, a burger and a ton of fries. I slipped out of bed and pulled on my briefs. After that, I spun around and headed toward the bathroom, we’ll make a plan.

When I was at the bathroom door, I turned back toward Lexi. Deal?

She sucked her lips into her mouth, then nodded.

Makeup melted down her face.

Hair an absolute rat’s nest.

Even still, she was by far the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my fucking life. Good. Now call for food. I’m starving.

2

Lexi

---

He’d insisted we share a car back to the apartments.

Before I could argue, the cab was pulling up to our hotel.

Then I suggested he let me off a block away so that nobody would see us coming back at the same time—together.

Trey had looked at me dead in the eye, and said, Sweetheart, the cat’s out of the bag. They already know.

Whenever he looked at me like that, it made my heart flutter.

Like I was a stupid, hormonal teenager or something—mooning over a hot, hockey star who I’d idolized my entire life.

A hockey star whose posters currently wallpapered my bedroom walls back home.

A hockey star who—since I was a young girl, I’d out and out sworn to my parents that I’d marry one day.

A hockey star who I married two nights ago in a drunken, crazy night of fun.

Oh my gosh.

I married my girlhood crush.

This wasn’t like, the boy next door kind of crush.

This was like, a superstar, hockey player kind of crush.

The completely unobtainable kind.

The kind of crush you daydreamed—and especially night dreamed—about.

Not the kind of crush where I finally met him in real life, and he brushed me off with a smile and a nod.

Nope.

The kind of crush where he took one look at me—and gave me the most handsome, devilish grin.

Then he eyed me up like I was the biggest, juiciest hamburger.

And he hadn’t eaten in days.

I’d been Trey’s juicy hamburger for two nights, and two days.

For that, I’d be forever grateful.

But, I knew it couldn’t last.

First of all, it wasn’t allowed.

The men’s team and the women’s team were strictly forbidden to—mingle.

No one could know about this.

Except us.

It was one night.

I mean, two nights.

After