Page 18 of Pucking My Off-Limits Billionaire Boss
"Hey, Jake! This place is insane!" Max exclaims, stepping into the foyer of my chateau-style estate nestled in the woods outside Cedarwood. The house is a blend of cool modernity and rustic charm—expansive glass walls offering views of the surrounding forest, sleek furniture contrasting with the warmth of natural wood and stone.
Charlotte and Carter immediately start their playdate, their laughter filling the spacious living room. "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour," I say, leading Max through the house.
As we walk, Max's eyes widen at each new space. "Man, this is a far cry from that old studio above Cedarwood Tavern. Remember that place?"
I laugh, a surge of nostalgia hitting me. "How could I forget? It had 'character,' but this is something else."
We pass through the open-concept kitchen, with state-of-the-art appliances and a marble island. "You planning to actually cook in here, or is it just for show?" Max jokes.
"Hey, I'll have you know I can cook more than just microwave meals these days," I retort playfully.
We continue to the back patio, which overlooks a sprawling yard merging into the forest. "And check this out," I say, pointing to the outdoor kitchen and the fire pit area. "Perfect for summer nights."
Max whistles appreciatively. "You really went all out. This place is like a retreat."
"That's the idea," I say, leaning on the railing. "A place to relax, to get away from it all. Especially after life in the city."
Max nods, understanding. "It's good to have you back, Jake. Cedarwood missed you. And I think you missed it more than you realized."
I smile, looking out at the kids playing in the yard. "Yeah, I think you're right. There's something about this place. It's home."
Max claps me on the shoulder. "And now you've got a home that's a castle in the woods. Not too shabby, my friend."
"Wait till you see the game room," I say, leading the way. "It's Carter's favorite spot."
As we head towards the game room, Charlotte tugs at my hand with her big, curious eyes. "Jake, what's for dinner?" she asks in her cute, sing-song voice.
I crouch down to her level, smiling. "How about we make our own pizzas? I've got a new pizza oven in the kitchen."
Her face lights up with excitement, a mirrored expression on Carter's face. "Pizza! Pizza!" they chant together.
The kitchen is spacious and modern, with a pizza oven nestled in the corner, its stone interior radiating warmth. I pull out some dough, sauce, and a variety of toppings, setting everything up on the marble island.
"Okay, chefs, ready to make some magic?" I ask, handing each of them a small ball of dough.
Carter and Charlotte nod enthusiastically, their little hands eagerly starting to flatten the dough. I show them how to spread the sauce and sprinkle cheese, guiding their hands when needed. They giggle and chatter, excitedly adding toppings—pepperoni for Carter, and a mountain of pineapple chunks for Charlotte.
Max watches from the side, a beer in hand. "Look at you, Chef Jake. Who knew?"
I laugh, helping the kids with their culinary creations. "You'd be surprised, Max. I've picked up a trick or two. Thinking of doing pizza at the new tavern, so I’ve been working on my technique.”
Once the pizzas are assembled, I slide them into the oven, the kids watching in awe as the cheese starts to bubble and the crust turns golden. "In just a few minutes, we'll have the best pizzas in Cedarwood," I announce, earning cheers from the little ones.
As the pizzas cook, I set the outdoor table on the back porch. The evening is cool and pleasant, the perfect backdrop for a casual dinner. The kids are practically bouncing with excitement as I bring out the freshly baked pizzas.
Settling down at the table, Max and I watch as the kids eagerly grab slices of their handmade pizzas. We both sit back, each nursing a beer, our gazes fondly fixed on the children's innocent excitement.
Max takes a slow sip, then turns to me, a nostalgic glimmer in his eyes. "Remember our rookie days with the StarPucks, Jake?" he asks, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
I chuckle, the memories flooding back. "How could I forget? That first game we played together, you tripped over your own skates during the warm-up. Man, the coach was furious!"
Max laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, but you were the one who scored the winning goal on your debut. I thought you were going to fly right out of the rink with how high you jumped."
"I was on cloud nine," I confess, the thrill of that moment still vivid in my mind. "But, remember the prank wars in the locker room? You filled my skates with shaving cream!"
"And you retaliated by hiding my gear," Max counters, his laughter mingling with mine. "We were such kids back then."
I take another sip of my beer, feeling the warmth of the memory. "Those were good times, Max. We were just a couple of guys playing the sport we loved, without a care in the world."
