Page 137 of My Husband Problem

Apparently, Miles was able to get hold of Wes and pay an exorbitant amount of money to get electricity hooked up and Beckett delivered two bedrooms' worth of furniture to his only partially remodeled house.

“Wealwaysvote on the penalties,” Sutton tells her, for the fifth time. This time she doesn’t even look up from typing her vote into the app on her phone.

I’m very proud of that app. It is specifically for my hockey league so that fans can participate in activities during the games,as well as for them to give input outside of game time on things like what new snow cone flavor we should try at the concession stand, what minor-league hockey team mascot we should invite to one of our games to have a dance off with Rougie and Rascal, and other important questions.

“What is this penalty for?” Iris asks.

“The ref thinks Beckett was a little rough with Carter,” Sutton says, a smirk on her lips.

“You mean, the guy who’s still lying on the ice?” Iris asks.

Sutton and I exchange a look and laugh. “Yup.”

Iris still pulls out her phone and swipes across the screen. “So what are our choices here?”

She says she doesn’t understand it or like it, but she has been participating in all of the votes.

“Beckett can either go sit in the penalty box, sing his version of “Oops I Did It Again” to Carter, or dance for all of us,” Sutton tells her.

“He has his own version of “Oops I Did It Again”?” Iris asks.

“He needs it,” Sutton says.

“Well, the penalty box would be the most efficient,” Iris says.

Sudden laughs as the tally for the vote flashes up on the Jumbotron.

“Yes, it would be,” I say as the winner is clearly Beckett dancing center ice. The least efficient of all of the choices.

“Efficiency isn’t really one of the goals here,” Andi tells her.

“No kidding,” Iris says dryly.

“It’s all for fun!” Nora says.

It’s the fourth time during the game she’s called that out to Iris.

The music starts, and Beckett skates out to center ice, spinning dramatically and striking a pose as the first beat of the song drops. He does the dance, clearly relishing the two minutesof the spotlight before skating back to the bench, waving to the thundering applause.

I look over to find Iris shaking her head but grinning despite her protests.

Then I sneak a glance at Andi. She has much the same expression as she watches Beckett show off—that head shake that says he’s ridiculous but the grin that says she finds him irresistibly adorable.

Play resumes, and the Otters quickly score, tying the game at one to one.

“Yay!” Saoirse cheers from the row behind us. “Go, Uncle Zeke!”

Iris looks at me. “I guess you don’t get too stressed about the score since you own both teams?”

I shrug. “My objective here is this.” I point to the crowd. “Everyone having fun and enjoying the game. As long as there are butts in the seats and smiles on their faces, I’m happy.”

“So no emotions at all?”

My gaze follows number seven as he heads toward the net and then shoots the puck to my brother.

“Typically, no.”

Alex shoots the puck at the net, but Hudson knocks it away, and JD takes it back down the ice.