The newly weds greeted with a kiss. Three years later, Dane’s kisses still gave her the tingles, butespeciallynow that she could call him her husband.
Austen turned to address the other Devils. “Thanks again for coming, everybody! I know it’s hot. We’ll get this done in one trip, hopefully, and then you can grab a drink and cool off in the pool at Dane’s house.”
“It’s not ‘Dane’s house’ anymore, love,” Dane said. “It’s our house.”
Austen appreciated the reminder—it was still so fresh and new! But his teammates sarcastically cheered, “aaaaaaaaaw!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dane said with a smirk. “Shut up, ya jerks.”
“Jeez,” Reavo said, looking around Austen’s apartment. The Devils were jam-packed into the studio like sardines in a tin can. “You’ve lived in this shoebox forhowlong?”
“Four years,” Austen answered.
“Why the hell didn’t you make D buy you a new place?”
“Wait.” Austen made a stink-face. “Why would I needDaneto buy me a new place?”
“Uh oh,” Dane laughed. “Now you’ve done it.”
Austen continued. “You know Iwork,right, Reavo? And I do pretty darn well for myself, if I may say so.”
Of course Reavo knew that Austen worked—she’d authored his biography, after all. TitledDEAL WITH A DEVIL: The True Derek Reaves Story,the tell-all covered Reavo’s career as a tough-as-nails pugilist with a heart of gold who all too easily fell into love with the wrong women … before he finally found the right one in the most unexpected place.
Reavo’s book hit the best-seller list, and other retired athletes soon came calling for Austen’s services. She had a choice to make—remain as one of the Devils’ beat reporters, or make the jump to independent writer. As tough as it was to give up what had been a great job with the Devils, she couldn’t resist the freedom of blazing her own trail as a sports biographer. It was, in a way, the kind of journalism she loved most: the true stories of the peoplebehindthe sport.
She had book deals planned for the next five years, and was doingverywell for herself, thank you very much.
“Alright, alright!” Reavo showed his palms. “Of course I know you work. I just don’t know why you’d choose to still live here.”
Dane grinned and put his arm around Austen. “I told her to move in with me. But she didn’t want to until she got this.” He held up his wife’s left hand, showing off the enormous, sparkling white diamond.
“To be fair, I spentplentyof nights at Dane’s over the past three years,” Austen demurred. “So it’s not like I’m some ascetic.”
The athletes all stared back at her with blank faces. All but Jaden, who made a wink and a finger-gun gesture. “Hey, I know what that means, Austy.”
“Thanks, Jaden.”
Dane squatted, grabbed a box, and hoisted it. “Alright, everybody grab a box and let’s get my wife outta here already.”
The athletes loaded up with boxes, marched them out to the moving truck, and came back for more.
***
After moving the rest of Austen’s things into the couple’s Preston Hollow mansion, everyone jumped into the pool, as promised. Matchbox put on his jams, the drinks began to flow, and soon the sun went down.
“This kinda reminds me of the night you broke Dane’s hand,” Mikey quipped while the dwindling group of late-night revelers waded in the shallow end. “Remember that, Austen?”
“How could I forget?” She buried her face in her hands. “Thanks for bringing that up. I still have nightmares about it. The sight of his fingers … all purple and bent …euch.”
“Heh,” Vaughn tittered.
“C’mon,” Dane said, squeezing his wife against his side. “Just think what would’ve happened if you didn’t break my hand: none of us would be here right now. I would’ve been traded. Me and you wouldn’t have ended up together. And that bitch Thayer would still be running the team’s media …”
“Hey, whatever happened to that weirdo?” Reavo asked.
“You don’t remember?” Austen asked, and she took an excited sip of Dane’s Coors Light before she told the story. “He was thefirstto go during Mr. Sullivan’s house cleaning. Then, because we had evidence that he tried to blackmail me, we got the police involved. He got sentenced to two years’ probation and a thousand hours of community service.”
“Fucker got off easy, if you ask me,” Dane said, shaking his head.
