Deadlines & Red Lines: Fast Ice Sports Romance

by Stephanie Julian

  “We’ll make it work.”

  Damn right they would. He wanted her as many times as he could get it up tonight and if he got only two hours of sleep, he could live with that. But she probably couldn’t.

  “What time to do you start tomorrow?” he asked.

  She laughed, throwing her head back, which thrust her breasts out. And made his mouth water.

  “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

  “You said I was a boy scout.”

  “Yes, I did. I don’t start until two in the afternoon. We’ve got some time to kill before I need to get to sleep.”

  He laid her on her back on the bed and planted his fists on either side of her shoulders before hovering his lips over hers. “Then let’s not waste it.”

  Five

  “Hey, sweetheart. Your dad said you were going to stop by tonight. Did you have dinner yet? I made pulled pork the other night. I can make you a plate.”

  RJ returned his mom’s hug, leaning down to let her kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair. He was almost thirty-one years old, but… She was his mom.

  “No, thanks. I’m good. Dad in his office? Said he wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yep, go on back. Just make sure you say bye before you leave.”

  “Of course.”

  His mom’s smile flashed before she started back toward the family room off the kitchen.

  Of course he’d never leave without saying good-bye to his mom, and Sugar’s comment last night about him being a boy scout popped into his head. If she were here, she’d grin and say, “Told you.”

  What would his mom think of Sugar? Before the California shit, his mom had started to ask subtle questions about his future. Mainly, when was he going to find a partner and settle down. He’d always told her she’d be the first person he’d tell. At the time, he’d been dating Marisol. His parents had met her several times over the couple of years they dated, and even though his mom had never said anything bad about his ex, he’d known his mom had never warmed up to her.

  He didn’t think his mom outright disliked her. It was more that Marisol and his mom had nothing in common. And yeah, he knew that if he’d truly loved Marisol and had wanted to spend his life with her, it wouldn’t have mattered what his mom thought.

  But his mom was a damn good judge of character. And her coolness toward Marisol should’ve been a hint. One he probably should’ve heeded earlier. Because when the shit had hit the fan in L.A., she’d practically left skid marks on her way out the door. Hell, if he hadn’t made an unannounced stop at his condo before practice, she would’ve been gone with nothing more than a good-bye text and a status update on Facebook.

  His mom never would’ve bailed on his dad. They were equal partners in their relationship. Even though his mom hadn’t worked outside the house, his dad had never made her feel like her opinion didn’t matter or she didn’t get a say in any decision. They always talked about everything.

  RJ had realized later in life that his mom had definitely had the harder job, raising three kids and making sure her husband had the time and space needed to pursue his career and become a legendary player destined for the Hockey Hall of Fame.

  Marisol had played the part of the perfect hockey girlfriend. She’d always deferred to him, no matter what. As if she didn’t want to deny him anything for fear she’d piss him off. Or worse, dump her. He hadn’t realized until the assault accusations had hit that she’d been more afraid of losing her star athlete boyfriend than she’d been of losing him. Not even a month after they’d broken up, she’d started dating an NFL player.

  Sugar was Marisol’s opposite in a lot of ways. And that was probably a good thing.

  No probably about it.

  He looked at his watch. Still an hour and a half until she got off work. Would she think he was stalking her if he went to the other restaurant she was working at tonight and waited for her to leave?

  Yeah, she probably would.

  Shaking his head, he headed for the stairs and took them up to his dad’s office on the second floor. Their home in Chestnut Hill was small by neighborhood standards but still had four bedrooms, one of which his dad had co-opted for his office.

  The door was open, his dad’s head down over his desk, engrossed in the papers spread across the flat surface. RJ knocked on the frame, and his dad motioned for him to come in, still focused on the papers.

  He walked up to the desk, curious to see what held his dad’s interest. Not surprisingly, they were scouting sheets. The name at the top of one caught his eye. He knew the last name but the first was female. At least, he thought it was.

  “Hey, is that Doug Gardiner’s daughter? Is she scouting?” He pointed at the top sheet. “How’s she doing?”

  Doug Mitchell glanced up then pushed back in his chair with a sigh and waved his hand over the papers, as if he was performing some kind of spell. His dad was fairly new to the general manager’s job, but hockey was in his blood. And he’d been a damn good player, better than either RJ or Brody would ever be.

  “Yeah, it’s Gard’s daughter and she’s fucking amazing, which I plan to tell everyone who’ll listen. I have to admit I wasn’t sure what to expect at first, but she’s got a damn good eye. I know training camp doesn’t start for a few weeks, but we’ve got a couple weak spots and she’s—”

  His dad cut off, shook his head, and chuckled. “Sorry. I didn’t ask you to stop to talk shop. Or at least, not exactly. You want a beer? I could use a beer.”

  His dad got up and headed for the mini fridge in the fully stocked bar on the other side of the room. While RJ’s mom had had full reign over the rest of the house, this room was totally Doug Mitchell. Dark-stained molding, dark blue paint. Two framed Sports Illustrated covers from his playing days. And a shelf that went around the entire room with pucks marked with a date, from his first professional goal to the puck from the last game he played, and every milestone in between, including every goal he scored in every Stanley Cup final. The repository of a legendary career.

  RJ tried not to be intimidated every time he walked in here, but it was damn hard not to be.

  His dad handed him a beer, knowing without asking what RJ would’ve asked for. Because his dad was good at that kind of stuff. Hell, his dad was good at everything.

  “So.” His dad eased back into his chair and leaned back. “I’ve got kind of a huge favor to ask. I don’t need an answer tonight. Don’t want an answer tonight. Take some time and think about it. And it’s a big ask, so think carefully.”

  RJ shook his head, his curiosity piqued. “Okay. Now that I’m sufficiently wary, I guess I need to know what the favor is.”

  His dad laughed, shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind right now. And this…throws a wrench into a few well-laid plans.”

  “Then I guess you better tell me what’s going on.”

  His dad grimaced and RJ’s brows rose.

  “Hey, is something wrong?”

  “No, no.” He leaned forward, his expression clearing a little as he leaned on his desk. “It’s nothing like that. Sorry, don’t mean to be cryptic. It’s just…I’m kind of at a loss and if you don’t say yes, I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I don’t want to strong-arm you into this.”

  “Then it must be something huge. What’s up?”

  “The housing I had set up for Patrick Prescott fell through.”

  Damn, that was a problem. Rickie Prescott was a barely eighteen-year-old phenom from a large, close-knit family in Texas, a kid whose dark skin made him one of a small number of black players in the sport and whose talent made him one of the best rookies ever. Six-foot-two, two hundred pounds and still growing, the right winger played with the heart of a true grinder.

  Due to some savvy trades and maneuvering on RJ’s dad’s part, the Colonials had signed the kid during the first round of the draft in June. RJ’s dad had immediately made plans for Rickie to attend Rookie Camp the first week of Septe
mber.

  Rickie would need, at most, a season in the AHL because the kid had so much natural talent, but he needed polish. The coaches wanted a look at him before he headed to the Reading Redtails, the Colonials’ AHL affiliate. Rickie wasn’t going to college, so he’d start the season in the fall.

  But the kid’s parents had been adamant that the eighteen-year-old have “adequate adult supervision.” The youngest of seven, Rickie had never traveled anywhere without at least one member of his family. This summer, however, neither his older siblings nor his parents could afford to travel halfway across the country and spend a few weeks in Philly away from jobs and school. So RJ’s dad had set up Rickie with the team’s assistant offensive coach, who had two sons of his own only a few years younger than Rickie.

  “What happened?”

  “Dom’s mother-in-law fell and injured herself pretty badly. Dom and his wife are already on their way to Kansas to help with the ranch and take care of her when she gets out of the hospital. But that leaves Rickie without a place to stay. At least, one that meets his parents’ standards.”

  “Damn, that’s tough. So what do you want to ask—Oh, wait.” Shock zapped through him. “You want him to stay with me?”

  His dead looked deadly serious. “I said it was a big ask.”

  RJ’s mouth dropped open. “I would think I’m the last person you’d think of for this. And I can’t imagine his parents would want him to stay with me, either.”

  Shaking his head, his dad let out a sigh. “RJ, anyone who has ever met you knows you would never assault a woman. The police never charged you and the guys who were guilty swore up and down you weren’t there. You’ve gotta let this go. Besides, you were already on their approved list. You’re one of the kid’s idols, apparently. And I had a long conversation with his parents after he signed. They believe in you.”

  They believed in him? What the hell did that mean? That they trusted him with their eighteen-year-old kid?

  It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be responsible for a kid Rickie’s age. Two years ago… Yeah, he wouldn’t have had a second thought. He would’ve been honored to be asked and thrilled to have the kid stay with him for a few weeks.

  Now…

  Shit.

  His dad must have read his thoughts because he held up a hand just as RJ was about to open his mouth.

  “Like I said, I don’t need an answer now. Take the weekend to think about it. Let me know Monday. Just…think about it, okay? I’m not gonna lie. I’m worried about you, kid, and I think it’d be good for you to have something or someone else to think about.”

  It was useless to tell his dad he didn’t need to worry because everyone knew RJ hadn’t been himself since he’d come to Philly. Being accused of an assault you didn’t commit tended to piss you off and make you bitter.

  And even though no one he loved or who mattered to him believed he’d laid a hand on that woman, just the fact that he’d been accused still made him so angry, he got sick to his stomach. So, no, he hadn’t been able to let it go completely.

  “Nothing to be worried about. I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t in danger of harming himself. No, he didn’t smile as much as he used to, but he’d had his eyes opened to a few truths after the accusation. Grown a tougher skin. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  And last night, he’d taken the woman he’d been dreaming about for months to bed. And he was probably going to do the same again tomorrow.

  So, yeah, things were better. But he’d never be the person he’d been before. His parents didn’t understand that yet. Actually, none of his family or friends understood that yet.

  Sugar hadn’t known him before so she didn’t look at him through the same lens.

  His dad’s expression proved RJ’s point. His dad didn’t think he was fine.

  “Good. Glad to hear it. I still think this would be a good thing for you. Just think about it.”

  RJ nodded, but he was pretty sure he already knew what his answer would be.

  “So Dad finally asked you about Rickie. He told me he was going to. I stopped by the house for a few minutes this afternoon and he asked me what I thought.”

  Sitting at his usual table at The Brig Thursday evening, RJ waited for his brother to continue, but Brody, being Brody, made him ask.

  “Am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

  Brody grinned and stole a fry off RJ’s plate. “I thought you were in training. Why are you eating this shit?”

  “Because I can. Brody. Are you just here to eat my food or what?”

  “Actually, I’m waiting for Tara to get here.”

  “So you’re just going to sit there and piss me off? You think it’s a bad idea, right?”

  Brody’s eyebrows rose. “Why would I think that?”

  “Because it’s a bad idea.”

  “Bullshit. You and the kid were practically made for each other. He’ll be the little brother you always wanted. Milk and cookies before bed. Up at dawn. Work out all day. Veggies for dinner.”

  “I have a little brother. He’s an ass.”

  Brody snorted. “I’m not wrong. Well, maybe about the milk and cookies but everything else—”

  “Look, I need some guidance here.”

  “No, you don’t.” Brody stared him down. “You know what you need to do.”

  “Hey, Brody. Long time, no see. How’s it going?”

  Brody looked up with a grin. “Hey, Sugar. It’s going. What’s new?”

  RJ wasn’t sure Brody noticed Sugar’s slight pause, but RJ certainly did. It took everything RJ had not to respond in a way that would tip off Brody to the change in his relationship with Sugar.

  When he’d walked through the diner entrance today after his workout, he’d been careful not to smile too much. He was acutely aware of the fact that they hadn’t talked since Tuesday night. He’d gotten her number before he’d left but hadn’t contacted her.

  She’d said she was going to be working and he hadn’t wanted to distract her. Well, actually, he had wanted to distract her. But he didn’t.

  Because he was trying not to be an asshole.

  She’d acknowledged him with a nod then took an order from a table with a couple of young guys who grinned at her like hungry wolves. It’d set RJ’s teeth on edge, but he’d reminded himself that they’d shared one night together. One. That didn’t give him rights to any part of her time. They hadn’t even had a date yet. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to date right now.

  Asshole.

  Yep. Totally sounded like a dick move. The thought didn’t sit well with him.

  He’d returned her nod with what he hoped was a neutral smile and headed for his usual table. When she’d walked over to take his order, she’d treated him like she always did, her smile bright.

  And he’d wanted more.

  Don’t be an asshole.

  She’d left with another smile and not long after that, Brody had walked in. They’d talked about Brody and Tara’s vacation to the Bahamas. They’d only been able to get a few days away because of Tara’s work schedule. RJ had expected Brody to be grumpy about that. Brody’s default mood was grumpy. But Tara had a calming effect on the guy. Amazing.

  And after Sugar had dropped off his dinner, along with an extra side of steamed broccoli and carrots he hadn’t ordered, he forced his attention back to his brother and his dilemma about Rickie. He’d expected Brody to agree that putting Rickie with him was a bad idea.

  “Nothing much,” Sugar answered Brody’s question, pulling RJ out of his thoughts. “How was your trip?”

  “Great. Nice just to lie on a beach with nothing to do. I keep telling this guy he needs to get away, but he doesn’t listen to me. Sun, sand, and someone to share it with. You gotta get out more. Or you’re never gonna get laid again.”

  RJ couldn’t help it. He looked up at Sugar, whose cheeks had turned bright red.

  Without thinking about it, RJ kick
ed Brody under the table, hard enough that his brother swore under his breath.

  “What the fu—” Then Brody looked up at Sugar. “Shit, sorry, Shug. I’m a cretin, or so my sister likes to call me. But I’m the one with the girlfriend, so…”

  RJ was going to punch his brother. Just a little pop on the nose.

  Sugar roused herself a split second later, carefully keeping her attention on Brody.

  “You’re not a cretin. Trust me. I’ve known a few. And I think you’re right.” She looked straight into RJ’s eyes, a definite challenge there. “I think RJ needs a vacation. He pushes himself way too hard. Now, you want to order something, or you want to wait ’til Tara gets here?”

  “See,” Brody nodded at RJ, “I’m not the only one.” He looked back up at Sugar with a conspiratorial grin. “I’ll wait for Tara. Thanks.”

  “You got it. Everything okay, RJ?”

  No, not really.

  “It’s all good. Thanks, Sugar.”

  Did her smile look a little different? A hint of heat from the other night? Or was he seeing something that wasn’t there?

  He tore his gaze away as she walked off. And met his brother’s gaze head-on.

  “Something going on you wanna talk about?”

  RJ took a second to think about his answer because Brody looked intent. Brody had never been known for being observant. Before Tara had come along, Brody was more likely to ignore a potential emotional situation than approach it head-on. Before he and Tara had hooked up, Brody probably would’ve been oblivious to any undercurrents between RJ and Sugar.

  Now, he sat there looking at RJ like he expected him to spill his guts. He considered several responses and settled on the easiest.

  “No. Why?”

  Brody’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted just a little to the side.

  Should’ve kept it at no.

  “Let me rephrase the question. Is there something going on between you and Sugar?”

  Damn it. RJ didn’t want to lie to his brother. He also didn’t want to face an inquisition either. So he kept his mouth shut. Which basically gave Brody the answer he was looking for.