Prince Pucking Charming Read online

  Prince Pucking Charming

  Jillian Quinn

  Contents

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Face-Off Series

  Are you on the team?

  Dear Reader

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  About the Author

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Face-Off Series

  Parker

  Kane

  Donovan

  Jameson

  Ethan

  Dean

  Face-Off Legacy Series

  Pucking Parker

  Keeping Kane

  Teaching Tucker

  Jocking Jameson

  Kissing Killian

  Defending Donovan

  Standalone Novels

  Prince Pucking Charming

  Most Desirable Player

  For a complete list of books, updates, and new releases, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jillian Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at jillianquinnbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, both living or deceased, establishments, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter One

  Delilah

  Duke Baldwin makes me so fucking hot. He’s on the cover of Sports Illustrated this month, dressed in his Washington Capitals jersey, wearing his usual cocky smirk. He grips his hockey stick in his left hand, and his muscles flex beneath the tight fabric. I practically drool on the front cover, which would suck if I did—because I was looking forward to spending some alone time with Duke.

  As I flip through the five-page spread about the sexy captain, I fan myself with my free hand. Duke makes hockey worth watching. Every time he throws a player against the boards, I imagine he’s doing it to me.

  Sitting on the edge of the tub, I test the water temperature. The house is quiet at this hour. My daughter is sound asleep in her bed. And after the day I had, I need some much-needed Mommy Time.

  I set the magazine on the floor and begin to undress. Duke’s piercing blue eyes look up at me as I strip away my clothes. His wicked smirk sends a shiver down my spine. As I peel back the layers, I imagine Duke’s hands on my skin. I envision how it would feel to kiss his full, perfect lips.

  I slide into the warm, bubbly water and reach over the edge for the magazine. With my other hand, I drag my fingers along my arm. Heat travels beneath my fingers as I continue my slow exploration. On the second page of the article, Duke is shirtless, wearing shorts that sit low on his hips, exposing the V line of his abdomen.

  My eyes follow the light trail of hair that runs down his thick chest and dips beneath his shorts. I lick my lips, thinking of Duke as I grab the shower wand and turn on the jets. I slide my hand into the water. His handsome face is on every page, those bright blue eyes haunting me. I suck in a deep breath from the pleasure that rushes over me. My heart speeds up, and a pulse-pounding surge of energy causes my body to tingle.

  The door opens a crack, but I ignore it. Strange things happen in this old house all the time. I lean my head back, imagining what it feels like to grip Duke’s big shoulders, how it would feel to ride him like one of his puck bunnies. My toes curl from the wave of adrenaline that shoots through my body. I’m so close to finding my release that I can almost see the finish line.

  “Mommy, what are you doing?” I glance over at Max, who rubs the sleep from her eyes with her tiny hands, and my jaw hits the floor.

  Panicked, I attempt to stand and drop the shower wand, but I hit the edge of the tub instead. Shit! Water shoots across the room, showering both of us. It looks like Old Faithful just erupted in my bathroom, blasting the walls with a steady stream.

  Max screams when the warm water hits her in the face. The wand is uncontrollable, rolling back and forth as I reach for it. A wave hits the opposite wall and bounces off, splashing Max as she turns her back to me.

  “Mommy, make it stop!”

  I finally get a good grip on the wand and submerge it as I turn the knobs. Why didn’t I think to turn off the water first? And I’m supposed to be a doctor? This is not my finest moment.

  I jump out of the tub and wrap Max in my towel, dripping onto the floor. So much for my relaxing night to myself. I had it all planned out—the bath, my favorite bottle of red wine, and an hour of Netflix before bed. Now, I’m going to spend the rest of my night cleaning the bathroom. This is my life in a nutshell. Don’t grow up, it’s a trap.

  After I get Max’s wet pajamas off her, I dry her hair and body and then wrap her in the towel. She shivers and leans into me for warmth.

  “Mommy, why were you playing with the shower wand?”

  “I was just checking to make sure it still works.”

  It definitely does the trick!

  She gives me a confused look. For a ten-year-old girl, Max is as smart as a whip and always knows when I’m lying. Her fascination with Google and YouTube makes it a lot harder for me to conceal the truth from her. At least this is one situation she can’t Google.

  “C’mon, baby,” I say, pressing my hand to her shoulder. “Let’s go to your room, so you can pick out your PJs.”

  I glance at Duke’s face on the bathroom floor. The pages are soaked through, the ink blurred from the water. I take one final look at Duke, and then I lead Max down the hall toward her bedroom.

  One day, after she’s gone through all of the shit I have in my life, Max will understand why Mommy has to spritz her lady parts in the bathtub. For her sake, I hope she doesn’t end up like me. I thought I had it all figured out. Turns out, nothing in life ever goes according to plan.

  Chapter Two

  Duke

  Marcel waves his hand to get my attention. The bar around the corner from our house is more crowded than usual. I push my way through the throng, ignoring everyone as I head toward the bar. A few local girls grab my shirt, calling out my name. With only thirty minutes to kill before I have to call my sister, I shake them off me.

  Lucas leans against the brick wall, right below the electric green beer sign. He tips a bottle of Heineken to his lips, and when his eyes meet mine, he raises it in the air. Benji is next to him, talking to a skinny blonde with long legs.

  Marcel shoves a beer at my chest. “You’re late.”

  “It won’t take me long to catch up to you lightweights,” I quip.

  He shakes his head. “Dickhead.”

  “That’s Captain Dickhead to you.” I lean against the bar and drain the rest of my beer in one gulp, slamming it down on the counter. “You want another?”

  Marcel sets
his empty bottle next to mine. “Yeah, you can buy us a round.”

  I flag down a busty brunette bartender and groan when Shelly comes in her place. Shelly flicks her red hair over her shoulder, jiggling her tits in my face as she leans forward.

  “Hey, Duke,” she purrs. “It’s been a while. What can I get you?”

  We spent a drunken night together last year. Since that night, she hasn’t given up hope that she has another shot. Never going to happen. Shelly is a little too crazy, even for a booty call.

  “Another round for the boys,” I say as I hand her my credit card to start a tab.

  As their captain, I’m usually on their ass about drinking during hockey season. But Lucas’ birthday is today. I told the guys they could have one night to chill before we have to get back to work.

  Shelly fists four beers and lowers them to the bar in front of me, giving me an even better view of her rack. I’m a man. Of course, I like sex. But nothing Shelly does will ever get my attention. In my defense, I was wasted that night. I’ll never get that shitfaced again.

  “Hey, Cap,” Lucas says to me, nudging me in the arm with his elbow. “What took you so long?”

  “Family stuff,” I tell him. “I can’t stay long.”

  I wave Benji over. With an annoyed look, Benji peels himself from the blonde. She glances over her shoulder at me, her nose scrunched. Lucas drapes his arm over my shoulder, weighing me down with his heavy body.

  I pass the beers to my teammates. “To Lucas.” I raise my bottle in the air. “Happy birthday, bro.”

  Marcel and Benji join in, and we tap our bottles together. I take a big gulp, wishing I could stay a little while longer. It’s not often I get to relax. During hockey season, I rarely drink, unless it’s a special occasion like this one. But my sister sounded all-business when she asked to have a family meeting over the phone. The concern in her tone still worries me.

  The blonde saunters over to us, attaching herself to Benji as she drags him back to their seats. He follows behind her like a puppy dog, which is unusual for him. Benji never settles on just one woman when we go out together. This girl must be special, though I personally can’t see the appeal. She has a nice ass, a pretty face, and a decent rack, but nothing that would turn me into a love drunk asshole like him.

  “What’s up with Benji?” I ask no one specific.

  “That’s the girl he’s been talking to online,” Marcel says. “He’s whipped already.”

  “Like you have room to talk,” Lucas shoots back. “You’re all wifed-up now.”

  He snorts. “I’m not married.”

  “Not married yet,” Benji challenges. “Shay carries your balls around in her purse.”

  A howl of laughter shakes through me.

  Marcel’s cell phone rings, and he can’t answer it fast enough. “Hey, baby.” He turns his body away from us, covering the side of his mouth with his hand.

  “C’mon,” Lucas says, steering me toward the end of the bar. “Let’s get away from these losers.” He tips his head toward a group of girls. “I need a wingman.”

  Five women in their twenties are sitting at a high-top table by the window, whispering to each other as they look over at us. Girls are so obvious. Why don’t they just come over here if they want to talk to us?

  “I’m good,” I say, not the least bit interested.

  “What?” Lucas cocks an eyebrow at me. “Don’t be a little bitch.” He slaps me on the back, attempting to push me forward. “It’s not my birthday if I don’t get to strip down to my birthday suit.”

  I don’t move a muscle. “I can’t. I have to call Kat soon. She sounded weird on the phone.”

  He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighs. “You’re such a buzzkill. We have one night to celebrate, and all of you are acting like pussies.”

  “Fine,” I say. “You have me for twenty minutes, and then I gotta head home.”

  He groans. “Dude…”

  “I’ll be back after I talk to Kat.”

  Lucas taps my beer bottle with his.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, I’m on a conference call with my dad and siblings about to have a full-blown panic attack. I should have stayed at the fucking bar.

  “I’m pregnant,” Kat says.

  My heart stops the second the words leave her mouth. There’s no way Kat is pregnant, not my baby sister. My dad and three younger brothers are on the line with us. The tension between us is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

  Teeth gritted, I close my eyes and try not to think about how I failed her, how I didn’t do my job, how I didn’t protect my sister.

  “Did you say you’re pregnant, Kat?” Dad sounds confused.

  Okay, so she did say it. I didn’t imagine those words.

  “Yes, Dad. I’m pregnant. I wanted to tell all of you in person, but our schedules never line up.”

  With each of us living in different cities, we only see each other for holidays and during the summer break. It’s not unusual for us to have family meetings over the phone, but I hadn’t prepared myself for this news.

  “Are you sure?” Dad says in a hushed tone.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Kat declares.

  “Did you go to the doctor?”

  “Yeah, Dad. I have a blood test and a sonogram that confirm my pregnancy.”

  Another awkward silence passes between us.

  “I’m coming home,” Austin says in an authoritative tone. “I can take you to your appointments.”

  After our mother died, I became the father to Kat, Theo, and Travis. Austin, the sensitive one, assumed our mom’s role. Our dad was rarely home because of his professional hockey career. Even when he wasn’t playing hockey, he kept his distance from us. He couldn’t deal with losing the love of his life. So, Austin and I split the household duties in an attempt to make up for the lack of parenting in our house.

  Cradling the phone against my shoulder, I ball my hands into fists, wanting to smash everything in my bedroom.

  Austin sighs loudly into the receiver. The twins are whispering, their voices muffled.

  “How long have you known?” Dad says.

  “Not long.” Kat sounds relieved to get this off her chest while I’m so angry I want to set my bedroom on fire.

  “Honey, why would you keep something like this from us?” My dad pauses for a second. “I’m gonna be a grandfather…”

  He sounds excited. All I feel is rage bubbling inside me like hot lava about to erupt from a volcano.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Kat says in a hushed tone. “I should have told you sooner.”

  “I don’t get it,” Theo says. “How could you get pregnant? Is immaculate conception a real thing?”

  Kat snorts. “Do I need to give you the birds and the bees talk again?”

  “You had sex with someone?” Theo says.

  “With who?” Travis sounds equally confused. “You never hung out with any guys other than us and… Dean.”

  Dean? Motherfucking Dean Crawford. I knew they were more than friends. For years, I’ve tried to tell my sister that her so-called best friend wanted more than friendship from her. Or was she lying to us all along?

  My heart slams against my ribcage, my pulse pounding so hard and fast my vision blurs. When I’m on the ice, this surge of energy helps me play better. But now, I feel like I’m going to blackout.

  Walking away from the window, I plop down on the bed to keep my knees from buckling. “Who’s the father?” I say through gritted teeth.

  I need to hear her say Dean’s name, so I can kick his ass.

  “Yeah, who’s the father?” Austin says.

  The twins echo the same question.

  “Do you guys promise not to flip out?”

  “No,” I snap.

  I’m already flipping the fuck out.

  “I haven’t told him yet,” Kat says.

  “Kat, who’s the father?” Austin says. “Just tell us. We won’t get mad.”
>
  “Dean,” she whispers.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I can’t contain my anger any longer. “All this time, you tried to convince me that you weren’t fucking that asshole, and then he knocks you up and leaves you to deal with a baby by yourself?”

  “He didn’t leave me, Denny. Dean doesn’t even know.”

  Kat is the only person who still uses my real name.

  “You and Dean?” Austin sounds confused. “So, you guys were together?”

  I hold the phone in front of my mouth and yell, “Aus, are you that fucking clueless? I’ve been trying to tell you for years.”

  “Knock it off, Duke.” My dad never raises his tone unless he’s mad or trying to make a point. “Don’t talk to your sister and brother like that.”

  “Sorry, Dad, but this is bullshit,” I spit back.

  “Kat, I’ll be home in a few days,” Dad says.

  “Me, too,” Austin says. “I can stay for a few nights.”

  “Please don’t say anything to Dean. Any of you. I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet.”

  “He’s dead the next time I see him,” I growl.

  “Denny, please don’t do anything,” Kat screams.

  “I can’t make that promise right now.”

  Before anyone can get in another word, I end the call and throw the phone across the room. It shatters into pieces that fall to the floor. Fuck it. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, anyway.