Page 90 of Face Off With Fate

Monroe stiffened.

“No one wanted the hothead of the league, but I took him in out of the goodness of my heart. Isn’t that right, Josh?”

“Watch it, Vincent,” he warned, voice low and threatening, the tension in the space ratcheting higher. “We both know my going to Dallas had nothing to do with you.”

I stepped between the two. “Okay, I think⁠—”

“No?” Vincent said, ignoring me. “That the story you’ve been telling yourself? What you’ve told Grace here?” He swiveled his attention to me. “You see the level of hostility toward me? When all I’ve ever done is offer him a career and an amazing team to coach. A way of providing for his daughter.”

“Don’t you talk about her,” Monroe growled, running into my back.

“What kind of example are you to her when you act so out of control? What would the media think?” The bastard smiled. “I heard your new team isn’t as understanding of your bad attitude as I was. There’s talk about last season being your first and only year with the team. Tell me, Josh, do you think you’ll ever get hired again?”

Every smug word out of his mouth reminded me of why I’d hit his car with Monroe’s hockey stick.

Asshole deserved to be taken down a peg.

“You’re right. Let’s have a discussion about being a father, shall we, Vincent?” I said, and his eyes flickered with surprise, like he’d forgotten I was there. “If memory serves, you’re also a father. And rumor has it your son doesn’t want a damn thing to do with you.”

Red splotches peppered his face, nostrils flaring.

“Didn’t he leave and join another team?” I asked, laying the condescending tone on as thick as he had.

He whipped his head around, seeing if anyone had heard my comment. “Listen, here you bi—” He cut himself off, lips snapping into a tight line. “Apologize right now, and I’m willing to let this incident slide. Otherwise…” His words came between clenched teeth, his facade of control deteriorating.

“Otherwise, what, Vincent?” Monroe asked, pushing at my back again. But I held up a hand to stop him, eyes never leaving Dalton’s dad.

“No, no, Monroe. It sounds like a reasonable request.” I closed the gap between Vincent and me, loving how he took a half-step back. “The only problem is, I apologize when I’m wrong. Not when provoked. And we both know you’re a shit father and didn’t stop over here for a friendly chat.” I hiked my thumb over my shoulder. “Monroe is the most loyal and devoted man I’ve seen, to his child and his team. Character traits you should be fully aware of, Mr. Langley. That you want to suggest otherwise tells me either: A. You’re a shit team owner.” I put down a finger. “B. You’re a liar.” Another finger down. “Or C. You’re both.”

Only my middle finger was left standing.

His nostrils flared. “Did you fuck your way to this position the same way your slut of a cousin did with my son?”

Anger boiled under my skin. No one came for the people I loved like that.

I got further in his face. “How about I fuck you up the same way I did to yo⁠—”

Monroe clamped a hand over my mouth, arm like a damn steel trap pinning me to his chest. Didn’t matter how much I squirmed—the hold didn’t give.

“Too far, Vincent,” Monroe said, ignoring my muffled “fuck you,” which at that moment was directed at both of them. “Walk away. Now.”

He didn’t say it aloud, but the “before I kick your ass” was heavily implied.

Vincent raised his hands in surrender, backing away. “Nice seeing you again, Josh.” Even through my pissed-off haze, worry climbed my spine at the smirk he flashed.

Monroe continued to cover my mouth, despite my protests. His attention was locked on where Vincent disappeared from the room, leaving us alone again.

I took drastic measures.

“What the hell, Graciella?” Monroe ripped his hand away, spinning me around to stare at me in disbelief. “Did you lick my hand again?”

“I’ll lick whatever I want on you, Monroe, if you’re going to stick it near my mouth like that.”

The irritation and disbelief on his face melted away, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

“How can you laugh at a time like this?”

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. My breath hitched at the tender touch of his fingertip dragging across my jaw, coming to rest on my lip for a moment before it disappeared.