Deadlines & Red Lines: Fast Ice Sports Romance

by Stephanie Julian

  “Huh.” Brody nodded, just once, like he was putting a period on a statement. And maybe he was. “I did not see that one coming.”

  “Brody—”

  “Dude, I’m not here to give you shit. I like Sugar. A lot. I think she’s amazing. I also think your head’s still fucked up, and I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

  “Who are you and what did you do with my brother?”

  Brody gave him the finger like he should’ve expected it.

  “And now you’re deflecting. Interesting.”

  It took all of RJ’s control not to show any outward sign of discomfort. “There’s nothing to tell. At least nothing I want to talk about. I’m still allowed to have a private life, right?”

  Brody shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, do you still remember how to have a private life? Because you haven’t had one for months. Which is part of the reason Dad is pairing you up with Rickie. You realize that, right? He’s worried about you.”

  Sighing, RJ shook his head. “No one needs to be worried about me. I’m fine. Maybe I’m just not the same person I was before all that shit happened in L.A. Maybe I just need some fucking space.”

  Brody’s brows rose and RJ wanted to take back the words as soon as they left his lips. Because he didn’t use that word as casually as some people. Not unless he was really pissed off.

  Or frustrated. Or just messed up in the head, apparently.

  “Damn it, Brody. Don’t—”

  “Hey, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

  “Is everything…okay?”

  Sugar stood by their table again, but this time, she wasn’t wearing a smile, and he had to wonder if she’d heard him.

  “Yeah, we’re fine, Shug.” Brody gave her an easy smile. “Just pushed a few of the old man’s buttons.”

  RJ gave Brody a look that promised retribution before he turned his full attention to Sugar. Her lips no longer wore an easy smile and her eyes held questions.

  Shit. Had she heard him? Did she think he was talking about her?

  Hell, right now, she was one person he didn’t want to give him space.

  “Sure.” She flashed a smile at Brody, but it didn’t have its usual brightness. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

  She walked away again, and this time, he let his gaze follow her before looking back at Brody.

  Brody’s half-assed grin returned. “Still wanna tell me there’s nothing going on there?”

  “I’m not telling you anything. Let it go.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  When RJ didn’t answer, Brody nodded.

  “Okay, it’ll be our secret. But you know when Tara gets here, you’re gonna need to get better at keeping your mental pants zipped, if you know what I mean.”

  The statement was so ridiculous, RJ couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head the whole time.

  “Seriously, though.” Brody’s expression was all business now. “If you want to keep your private life private, I totally get it. I’ve been where you are. But you know Janine and Georgie are gonna pick up on whatever’s going on with you two. They consider Sugar family. You hurt her and you’re gonna be persona non grata around here.”

  “Jesus, Brody, I’m not asking her to marry me. We’re just…”

  When he couldn’t come up with the appropriate word, Brody helped him out.

  “Screwing around?”

  RJ really didn’t like that phrase, probably because “screwing around” indicated a lack of feeling. And RJ had a mess of feelings for Sugar. Most of which involved the two of them together and naked. But not just because he wanted to have sex with her.

  “No. That’s not it.”

  “I know that.” Brody’s voice held no trace of doubt. “I just wanted to make sure you did too.”

  Six

  By the time ten o’clock rolled around, Sugar’s feet throbbed, her calves ached, and her stomach had a knot in it that wouldn’t untangle.

  Brody and Tara had left an hour ago, after Tara had hurried in long enough to gulp down a salad. Sugar liked Tara. She was smart, said what she wanted to say, and loved Brody to distraction. Lucky for her, because Brody, though he wasn’t an overly demonstrative kind of guy, made sure Tara knew he loved her back.

  RJ was still in his booth. That wasn’t unusual, except that, after last night, nothing seemed usual with him now. Everything he said, every look he gave her, made her hyperaware of him. Considering how they’d spent last night, it made sense. But it was the little piece of conversation she’d caught between the brothers that’d made that knot tighten even more.

  She knew it was stupid to get worked up over a conversation she’d only heard part of, but she’d let it get to her anyway. Had he been talking about her when he’d said he needed space? They’d spent one night together and had made no plans to see each other again. Except here he was today. At his usual table, reading a book and drinking coffee.

  He’d smiled every time she’d arrived to refresh his mug, a smile she was becoming to think of as hers. And that was dangerous. So dangerous.

  Since it was so close to closing, she was making one last round of the tables, which included a couple on the other side of the room, who refused more coffee and got up to pay, leaving her alone with RJ.

  Georgie was busy in the back, cleaning the kitchen, so she wasn’t there to see Sugar hesitate before going back to RJ, who watched her approach with a look she’d couldn’t figure out.

  So instead of gnawing at it mentally, she figured what the hell. Might as well just ask.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He responded after a split-second pause, which may just have been her imagination. Or not.

  “Yes. Would you like to come back to my place tonight when you’re done?”

  Her immediate response was a giddy desire to say yes. But she should set some ground rules first, right? Or at least ask him what his intentions were? Which was ridiculous because this was only the second time he’d asked her out.

  And really, the first didn’t count because she’d asked him back to her apartment and that was all the further they’d gotten.

  She’d been planning to do some schoolwork tonight because her weekend was full of work. She had that split double tomorrow then she was working ten hours Saturday until two in the morning and another ten on Sunday but only until nine. She’d planned to do her wash Sunday night so she could take her books to the basement with her and study then.

  “Yeah, I would.”

  He didn’t crack a smile, but he nodded, and that intensity was back in his eyes. So she guessed he was happy with her answer.

  “Good.”

  “I need to shower first. Can I meet you there?”

  She was almost afraid he was going to say forget it, but RJ just nodded and slid out of the booth to stand next to her. “I’ll text you my address and give the doorman your name. He’ll send you up. See you in a half hour.”

  RJ’s building was only a few blocks away, so Sugar decided to walk rather than get a taxi or Uber. She hoped the walk would help work out some of her nerves.

  It took her fifteen minutes to shower and dry her hair, put on a little makeup, and obsess over what to wear. If tonight went like Tuesday night, she wouldn’t be wearing it long, so what did it really matter?

  She was still wearing a smile when she grabbed a pretty pink-and-white-striped sundress out of her closet then pulled out a pair of flat sandals that were cute but wouldn’t hurt her feet on the walk. Not exactly sexy, but hopefully he wouldn’t be looking at her feet.

  And luckily, it wasn’t that hot, so she shouldn’t be sweating like a pig by the time she got there.

  Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she breathed a little sigh of relief that even in the middle of summer, there were still lots of people out walking. The small town nearest her parents’ home had rolled up its sidewalks by seven o’clock at night, and if you happened to be caught on the streets after that, hal
f the town wanted to know if you were lost and the other half figured you were up to no good and called your parents.

  It’d been one of the main reasons she couldn’t wait to move away. Of course, a big city like Philly had its own problems. She had a can of pepper spray and a panic button dangling from her purse and within easy reach. She’d never had to use them, but she’d reached for them a few times when a guy had gotten a little too close.

  Tonight, a few guys gave her a second look, but she was moving at a pace that discouraged anyone from even whistling at her. If they had… Hell, she probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway.

  When she finally got to RJ’s building, she stopped outside to make sure she had the right address because, wow. Maybe she should’ve called for a ride and worn heels. A building like this definitely deserved heels.

  It was old but not out-of-date. In fact, it looked like it’d been renovated recently. As she stepped inside the lobby, she could tell it was cleaned every day. She faintly smelled sandalwood and not a whiff of disinfectant. The marble security desk sparkled, and the forty-something doorman wore dress slacks and a crisp white shirt with the name of the building embroidered on the chest pocket.

  He gave her a discreet head-to-toe then nodded. “Can I help you?”

  Okay, not the most pleasant guy in the world.

  “Hi there.” She pulled out a bright smile. “I’m here to see RJ Mitchell.”

  The guy’s expression changed so subtly, she almost believed she imagined it, and now his lips curved in a little bit of a smile. She knew that if she’d shown up unannounced and asked for RJ, he would be escorting her back out the door to the sidewalk.

  No, she didn’t look like she belonged in this fancy-ass building. She wasn’t wearing a thousand-dollar dress and four-inch stiletto heels. Then again, she didn’t look like she lived on the street either.

  Maybe you have a little chip on your shoulder, missy.

  And there was her mom’s voice, just in the nick of time to make her feel completely insignificant.

  “Your name?”

  “Sugar Donahue.”

  He didn’t bother to check his screen or tablet or wherever he kept the list of approved guests, just pointed to the bank of elevators to the left of the desk.

  “You can go up. Tenth floor.”

  Smiling a little wider than she normally would have, Sugar said, “Thank you,” and headed in that direction with an extra swing in her hips. Just because she could.

  The elevator opened almost immediately, and she walked into the spacious, mirrored box that rivaled the size of her bathroom. Okay, that was stretching it, but still.

  Trying not to be ridiculously overwhelmed, Sugar punched the “10” button and took a deep breath, fighting a case of nerves that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Which pissed her off. She didn’t have one damn thing to be embarrassed or ashamed about. And anyone who thought otherwise could take a long walk off a short pier.

  Maybe you’re reading too much into a look.

  Yeah, maybe. Okay, probably. But even though her parents had money, she hadn’t been raised like an heiress. She’d been raised on a farm in the middle of nowhere where she’d been the primary caregiver for her four younger sisters.

  Okay, maybe she did have a little bit of a chip on her shoulders. She’d sworn when she moved out, she was going to take care of herself first, at least until she found a partner worthy of her. Because, damn it, she deserved one.

  Was RJ the guy? He might be. Or he could still turn out to be a douche, though she really didn’t think that was going to happen now. She hoped.

  Oh hell, was she really trying to talk herself out of this?

  No. She really wasn’t.

  The bell dinged and the doors opened, and she realized she’d barely noticed the elevator moving. Walking out, she stopped to check the silver plaque on the wall with numbers and arrows then made her way down the hall. For the size of the building, there didn’t seem to be enough doors.

  Shaking her head at her scattered thoughts, she found RJ’s door and knocked before she talked herself out of it. Two seconds later, it opened, and she found herself forgetting every thought in her head as she stared up into RJ’s eyes.

  He smiled, and her heart flipped over in her chest. Hell, it wasn’t even one of his all-out grins, but it still made her want to strip off all his clothes and throw herself at him.

  What would he do if she just grabbed his pants and started to unbutton them?

  He probably wouldn’t say no, because what guy would, right?

  “Hey. Come on in. I’m glad you’re here.”

  He waved her inside and she stepped into an apartment that didn’t look like RJ even lived here. Or that anyone lived here.

  “Thanks for inviting me. Did you just move in? Everything’s so…perfect. Or you have a damn good housekeeper.”

  He laughed as he closed the door, a low, husky sound that made her nipples peak.

  “I do have a really good cleaning service.” He closed the door and stepped up next to her. “But mainly, I just haven’t had a lot of time to decorate. And honestly, I haven’t really thought about it much. My mom and sister say the same thing. Of course, my dad and Brody have never said a word about it so…”

  She smiled up at him, realizing he was making an effort at small talk, trying to put her at ease. Because even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was a little keyed up and he must’ve clued into that.

  “Was it tough? Picking up and moving across the country? Uprooting your whole life?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and she wondered if she’d overstepped. But honestly, how could she be overstepping after the amazing sex they’d had?

  “Yeah, it was. You want something to drink?”

  Okay, guess she could take a hint. He didn’t want to talk about something so personal. Got it.

  “Sure.”

  “Beer, lemonade, or soda? Not really a wine guy, sorry.”

  “And I’m not really a wine girl, so you’re good. Lemonade would be great.”

  His smile was back, this time a little easier, and she wondered if maybe he was feeling a little awkward, too. Probably not. She couldn’t think of any reason why he would. This was his ground, his turf.

  “Come on into the kitchen with me. You hungry? I’m not much of a cook, but I’m pretty good at turning on the microwave.”

  And just like that, she realized how easy it would be fall in love with this guy. And boy would that be one hell of a problem. Because RJ seemed dead set against getting close to anyone.

  Damn it, don’t be an ass. You can’t invite her over then hustle her into bed as soon as she crosses the threshold.

  Which was exactly what he wanted to do. Luckily, he knew better and restrained himself. But, from the second she’d walked in, he’d known he’d do anything to keep her here tonight, short of restraints and kidnapping, of course. Unless she was into the restraints, then he had enough ties they could make do. And that probably wasn’t what he should be thinking about either.

  So, before he shoved his foot in his mouth and said something ridiculous, he led her into the kitchen to get her a glass of lemonade and a beer for himself so he had something to do with his hands. Which he wanted to put all over her.

  She looked beautiful. And sexy. He wanted to put his fingers under the dress straps and pull them down her shoulders. Then he’d tug on the little string around her waist and let the dress drop to the floor. He was dying to see whatever she was wearing underneath.

  But he also didn’t want to rush. She was here. And if he played his cards right, she’d stay all night.

  “Wow, what a great kitchen. Do you use it at all?”

  Her voice held a note of wonder that made him look around the room as he handed her a glass before going back inside the fridge for his beer. This kitchen was smaller than the one in California, which Marisol had always complained about being too tiny.

  “Not really, no. I can make a mean g
rilled cheese or an omelet. But I can’t honestly remember the last time I used the oven. Does that make me less interesting?”

  Her laughter filled the room and when she shook her head, her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. “Not at all. I need to be able to do something better than you, and I’ve picked up a few tricks at the diner. But boy, I would love to cook in here.”

  “Any time you want. Although don’t take that as me asking you to cook for me. I can also make one hell of a club sandwich.”

  “Now that sounds good. Let me give you a hand.”

  As if they’d broken through some invisible uneasy cloud, he relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until his shoulders released. They moved around the kitchen as he told her where to find the bread while he pulled everything he needed out of the fridge.

  Their conversation stuck to easy stuff. Mayo or mustard. Rye bread or wheat. Good thing he’d had groceries delivered yesterday. Before his dad had asked him about taking in Rickie.

  “RJ? Something wrong?”

  He realized he was about to ruin his sandwich by putting mustard on his toast. Luckily, he’d already put hers on a plate and she was in the middle of piling it with lunch meat.

  “No, sorry. It’s just…my dad asked me for a favor last night and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “I guess it depends on the favor. My parents never asked me if I wanted to do anything. They usually just said ‘Here’ and put a kid in my lap or gave me money to get groceries.”

  “Sounds like they relied on you for a lot.”

  She shrugged. “If you mean used me to keep the kids out of their hair and to keep them fed, then, yeah, they did. So, what does your dad want you to do?”

  He’d much rather talk about her, but she’d asked so… “He wants me to take in a rookie for a week during camp.”

  After cutting their sandwiches in half-triangles, like she probably did at the diner a hundred times a day, she climbed onto one of the chairs at the island and took a bite of her roast beef and swiss. He took the seat next to her, close enough that their knees could touch.