Page 156 of Heartbreak Hockey


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“Deliver for Mr. Jack Leslie. Can you sign for it?”

I told Jack I was all right with him being friends with Mr. Courvoisier, but I’m not. It was a fake it till I make it kind of thing. I want to be. Oh, how I want to be the non-jealous asshole and do the right thing. And I amdoingthe right thing I just hate every minute of it. I don’t want to sign for whatever the fuck Rhett has sent tomyJack, but I do because I love Jack more than the whole fucking universe and I’d do absolutely anything for him.

“Yeah.”

The man leaves two boxes in the middle of my kitchen, and I’m left to stare at them. One of the boxes is moving. It’s making sounds. What the fuck is in that box?

Jack meanders into the kitchen a lot more awake now after the hour-long power nap he took, smiling as bright as the sun. “Those for me? Did you get me a present, Merc?”

I purse my lips. “They’re for you, but they’re not from me.”

“Pew!” he says as he gets closer. “Okay, it’s from Rhett. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry, just open it. Carefully.”

He opens the attached card first and reads aloud, “Dear Jack and Mercy. Something for the pair of you to enjoy with the little one. Congratulations!”

Congratulations my ass. What the fuck did he send us? He wouldn’t harm Jack, I’m sure about that—at least not on purpose—but he would do something to me.

Jack undoes the bow, and he barely has the lid off before little furry creatures pop out one at a time. Kittens. A whole box full of kittens. They climb Jack like he’s their new kitten mother, mewling with excitement.

“Wow! They’re so cute. I love them all.” He proceeds to start naming them.

Fuck my life.

One, two, three, four … seven. Seven fucking kittens come out of the box. All fluffy and adorable. Jack falls in love immediately.

I recall my own devious plan of doing this exact thing with a puppy. I was only going to sendone, but of course, over-the-top Rhett sends seven.

“We’re not keeping them,” I say, raining on his parade quickly.

His jaw drops, eyes widening as if I’d just told him that I was … well, getting rid of his kittens. Jack’s bottom lip trembles. Fucking Rhett.

“We’re not keepingallof them,” I correct myself quickly. “I said Theo could have a cat. We’ll keep one.”

“But I need one too, Merc. What about Stanley?”

I know where this is going. Then Lorelei will need one and Bethany will claim to want one just to see the look on my face when I realize I have to be fair.

“The five of you get two kittens. Two, Jack.”

“Fine, but we get to keep them all until the kids return so we can choose together. C’mere tiny Elvis,” he says picking up the white one with the black streak of hair across the top of his head.

Oh, brother. “Don’tname them.”

“I’m not just calling them ‘cat’, Merc.” He snuggles “Elvis” to his nose, and I pray to any God that will hear me to take out Rhett with a lightning bolt. Jack’s going to be sad when five of those cats leave and I’ll have to witness it.

Hmm. But maybe that’s what friends are for. I’ll send him straight to Rhett for consolation and I make a plan to convince my other siblings to take a few kittens each so Jack can still visit them frequently.

“While I remember, you left the cupboard doors open again, Leslie.”

“That what that bruise on your forehead is from?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, Merc. I’ll be better about it. Promise.” It’s hard to believe him when he’s rubbing his face against a clawed furball. He freezes with a thought. “We’re gonna need stuff for these l’il guys.”

“Pretty sure that’s what’s in the second box.” As much as I hate to admit it, Rhett always spoiled Jack. He’s not going to give him kittens without all the spoils, even if part of the purpose of this gift is to stick it to me.