The Sweet Talker: A Surprise Baby Hockey Romance (Boston Hawks Hockey)

by Gina Azzi

  Next to me, Austin raises his glass to his mouth but before he drinks, he leans over the railing, muttering swear words.

  I try to follow his line of sight to see what’s got him heated but other than some hot girls, I come up blank. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m gonna fucking kill my sister,” he growls, waving over to the bouncer to let the girls up.

  I laugh. Having spent many weekends at the Merricks’, I know firsthand that before Savannah married Mike, she was outgoing but always listened to her brother’s warnings. Claire, on the other hand, throws caution to the wind and pushes every one of Austin’s buttons just to see how much she can get away with. In the next blink, Claire steps onto the landing and I feel Austin’s pain.

  Claire has always been beautiful but dressed the way she is tonight, every guy in here will be salivating over her.

  “She does it on purpose, you know?” I tell my friend as he begins to stalk toward his sister. Claire purposely flirts with my brother all the time just to piss Austin off. I open my mouth to remind Austin of this but my words stall in my throat as I get a look at Claire’s friend.

  Damn. The woman is a knockout. Long, brown hair that falls like a curtain of curls around her shoulders, sparkling green eyes that dazzle even from across the room, and a body that makes my mouth water, with hips I’d like to sink my fingers into and a graceful neck I want to run my mouth over.

  I grab Austin’s forearm before he disappears. “Who’s she with?”

  “My cousin.” He sounds genuinely angry but there’s a hint of surprise in his tone too, like he wasn’t expecting to see his cousin tonight.

  I sure as hell wasn’t prepared to see her either. “That’s Indy?” I ask, recalling an entirely different version of the Indiana Merrick I remember from my teenage years. She would visit Boston with her parents every summer and sometimes our paths would cross but she always held herself back, as if she preferred to be on the periphery while Claire beamed as the center of attention. Indy always had her nose in a book, rarely drank with us, and constantly talked about a hockey player she was dating.

  I swivel my neck around the room, waiting to see which one of the guys steps up to claim her but nobody makes a move.

  No one except Austin who is now striding toward his female family members with barely concealed fury in his expression.

  Amused, I follow behind him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses at his sister and cousin.

  Claire rolls her eyes. “We came to troll.”

  Indy winces and I snicker, drawing her attention to me. When her eyes meet mine, I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. Now that I’m closer, the vibrance of her green eyes is even more alluring. Deep and glowing, her eyes are the kind a man would willingly drown in. The kind that make it easy to forget the past and live in the moment, consequences be damned.

  I blink, severing the connection while mentally swearing at myself. Indiana Merrick is the last woman I should sleep with. Well, Savannah and Claire are but they’re more like sisters to me anyway. Forget the fact that Indy is Austin’s cousin, she’s also the daughter of NHL legend Jeremiah Merrick, hockey god and my childhood idol. No hockey guy in his right mind would try casual with Indy and right now, tonight is all I’m good for.

  Austin pulls Claire to the side of the room, leaving Indy and me to chat.

  “Hi.” She smiles shyly, placing out a hand. “I’m not sure if you remember me—”

  “It’s good to see you again, Little Indy,” I cut her off, using the teenage nickname she hated. I shake her hand with a grin and tip my head toward the railing so we’re not in the center of the room.

  She follows beside me and as we post up next to the railing that overlooks the dance floor, I gesture toward the cocktail waitress. “What are you drinking?”

  “Uh, I’ll take a vodka soda with lemon please,” Indy orders.

  I study her, noting how she fiddles with the strap of her purse, glancing around for her cousins, unsure of herself. “How long are you visiting for?” I ask, hoping to put her at ease.

  Her face swivels back to mine, surprise in her expression. “Oh, I live in Boston now. I moved here about six months ago.”

  “Really?” Now I’m surprised, wondering why Austin never mentioned it. Then again, maybe he did. My life has been a roller coaster since last season ended. “Did you move for a job?”

  Relief crosses her face as she nods. “Yes. And thanks for making that assumption. I hate that everyone always thinks I moved for a guy.”

  I chuckle, liking how transparent she is. Honest. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a professor.”

  “Really?”

  She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I just started this school year. I’m teaching political science courses at Brighton.”

  “Wow,” I say, impressed. I remember Indy being smarter than the rest of us but I had no idea she wanted to teach. “You already did your PhD?”

  She blushes, dropping her gaze and nodding, as if I embarrassed her. Honest and modest.

  “That’s awesome.” And then, hoping to make her laugh, “Any of the students hit on you yet?”

  I grin as her laughter colors the air. Her eyes come back up, disarming me.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “They’re mostly eighteen and nineteen. They’re still too nervous about doing their own laundry for the first time and remembering my name to try anything like that.” She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t get me started on work. I know it’s lame to gush about but it’s pretty much the center of my life at the moment.”

  “No man demanding all your time?” I couldn’t care less if I’m being forward. How the hell is a woman who looks like Indy and has her brains, spark, and drive, single?

  She bites her bottom lip. “No one worth mentioning.” Her voice is coy and my grin widens.

  The cocktail waitress appears and I take Indy’s drink off the tray and pass it to her. When she accepts the glass, our fingers brush and a flicker of heat shoots down my arm. Raising my glass in her direction, I smile. “To your new job. Congratulations, Professor.”

  She tips her head in my direction, her eyes flaring with amusement. Clinking her glass against mine, Indy lifts the cocktail to her lips.

  I stifle a groan at the visual before me. Her mouth is luscious, her eyes gleaming, and everything about her screams unattainable. After months of easy, available women, Indy unknowingly entices me.

  She’s the first woman I’ve met since Courtney who stirs something in my chest. Longing. One to know her better, not just undress her tonight. The realization is heady and dangerous. Still, I can’t stop the thrill that blazes through my body like fire, making my fingers want to reach out and glide over her smooth skin.

  The Indiana Merrick I remember was prudent and oblivious.

  This version is just as sweet but wildly tempting.

  A recipe for trouble.

  3

  Indy

  Noah Scotch.

  The second my gaze collides with his, I forget how to breathe. I remember the sweet talker with his rugged jawline and deep, chocolate eyes from my teenage years. Back then, Noah seemed so far out of my reach, it’s like we weren’t even in the same galaxy. The first time I met him at my aunt and uncle’s house, I blushed and fumbled through the entire dinner. Noah sat beside me and when he reached for the grated parmesan cheese, his elbow ran down the length of my arm, causing goosebumps to break out over my skin.

  He was the first guy I ever had a real crush on. Of course, it was harmless and innocent. Later that year, I met Jace and everything in the world seemed to melt away as I fell in love with him. But standing here now, with Noah looking at me like he’s genuinely interested in hearing about my career, those old, delicious memories resurface.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asks after we’ve been chatting for a solid fifteen minutes. By this time, my cousins have reappeared and disappeared several times. Luckily,
Austin acquiesced to Claire’s demands to stay, although he’s been watching my devious cousin like a hawk as she makes her rounds, laughing and flirting with all the hockey players.

  “Sure,” I say cautiously.

  He rubs a hand along his jawline and I catch the movement, wondering, for one tiny instant, what it would feel like for his fingers to swipe across my cheek, dip down the column of my neck.

  He clears his throat and I startle, flicking my gaze back to his but realize he’s pondering how to pose his question.

  “Just ask it.” I flash him a smile.

  He chuckles, the sound nervous. Shuffling forward half a step, he dips his head and I breathe in his scent. It’s fresh like pinecones and mountain air and it makes my mouth water. “How do you balance it all? The commitment to your career and your social life and dating…I just, I wonder because I thought I was balancing it all fine and now…” he trails off, shaking his head. Pink stains his cheeks and I catch his embarrassment, softening to him even more because of it.

  I tip back to peer into his eyes, surprised by his question. Not that I knew what he was going to ask but it definitely wasn’t that. We just jumped from polite, comfortable chitchat to something deeper. I recall the headlines and social media stories surrounding Noah this summer. His fiancée Courtney cheated on him with a lawyer or engineer or something. I shuffle even closer to him, as if pulled by an invisible thread. One dipped in hurt and vulnerability, one seeking understanding and comfort.

  His honesty spurs my own, even if it pains me to admit it out loud. “I don’t.”

  Noah’s brow furrows, as if my answer is confusing.

  I clear my throat. “I don’t balance it at all. My entire life revolves around my work, my research, that’s it. Claire dragged me out tonight by sheer will and her ability to guilt trip.”

  The corner of his mouth turns up even though his eyes remain serious, disbelief ringing their edges. “Me too. Until Courtney I mean…I just, I was all about the job.”

  I take a long pull of my drink. “It’s easier that way.”

  “Safer,” he agrees, rattling the ice in his glass.

  We stare at each other for a long beat, some type of understanding passing between us. “I’m sorry about Courtney.”

  He shrugs, glancing out over the crowd. “I’m not.”

  I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m gutted about the way it went down. But I’m not sorry. I would much rather have understood her expectations, have her realize the type of life and future she wants, before we exchanged vows and not after, with a handful of kids in tow.”

  The thought of Noah as a dad causes my chest to ache. My God. Claire was right; I need a life. Still, I admire his rational outlook and I tell him as much.

  He snorts, polishing off his drink. “I can say this now, six months later. Right afterwards”—he pauses, a darkness flaring in his eyes—“well, let’s just say that impressed is not a word you would use to describe me.”

  I open my mouth to say something comforting when Austin appears and throws an arm across my shoulders. He tugs me toward a group of men I know by name from SportsCenter but have never met in person. “You moved here just as the season ended and everyone went their separate ways. Let me introduce you to the team, Indy.”

  I raise an eyebrow and glance up at Austin.

  “Purely so they’ll know better than to hit on you,” he clarifies, making his intention known.

  Tossing back my head, I laugh. Noah chuckles but Austin’s expression remains serious.

  My cousin leads me toward the guys but I glance over my shoulder at Noah who remains at the railing. His hand wraps around the metal bar as his head swivels in my direction. His expression is amused, a small smile playing over his mouth. But his eyes burn with intensity as they latch onto mine. They track my movement with a severity I’m unprepared for and a thrill shoots down my spine. Noah’s gaze holds me hostage. Intense, heady, and hungry, this Noah rattles me even more than the boy I first crushed on.

  “Easton’s back in rehab!” Claire hisses at me. We’re partially hidden, around the side of the bar, while Austin’s teammates socialize and mingle. “I mean, I’m pretty sure he is. Panda told me but said it wasn’t a confirmed thing but then, why else wouldn’t he be here?”

  Mingle is putting it politely. Several of the guys have their hands roaming the curves of beautiful women, no shame in their game, as they touch freely. Women perch on their laps, their clothes tighter than skin, their makeup expertly applied.

  I can’t tear my eyes away. I’ve spent the last several years locked in libraries, surrounded by guys in cardigans and girls who sport baseball caps on bad hair days. Or greasy hair days. The women surrounding me look like they never have a bad anything. They are mesmerizing. The guys think so too and a strange sensation ripples through my chest.

  No wonder things with Jace and me didn’t work out. I couldn’t look like one of these girls with an entire team committed to my appearance, a la Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality.

  “Indy! Did you hear me?” Claire shakes my hand, her eyes glazed. She stumbles and I grab her arm to keep her from teetering in her heels.

  I wince, recalling Austin’s best friend and Claire’s number one crush. Easton Scotch is in a category all his own. Wild and reckless, he’s a force on the ice and a hurricane off of it. Bad boy personified, he was always getting into some kind of trouble. Now, I recognize his teenage pursuits for what they are—a man trying to escape his demons. But years ago, I found him irritatingly rash and careless. Still, my chest aches for him and for Noah, knowing how close they are as brothers, and for Claire who continues to worry about East even while flinging herself at other men. “I heard you. I’m sorry, Claire,” I say, studying my cousin.

  For every drink I’ve consumed, she’s had three. Frowning, I realize she’s quite drunk.

  Tears prick the corners of her eyes as she shakes her head. “What do you think triggered him? How do you think he is?”

  I push her back into the corner, glancing around to make sure Austin hasn’t spotted us. If he knows Claire is wasted and nearly sobbing, he’ll drag us from Firefly and Claire will be doubly embarrassed tomorrow. “I’m not sure, Claire. But the good news is he’s working on it. Rehab isn’t a bad thing. It’s a step on the path to recovery.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut, her black mascara smearing on her brow bone and beneath her eyelids. Jesus. I swipe a bar napkin from the bar and try to fix her face while shushing her. “Claire, Austin is going to haul you out of here if you don’t pull it together.”

  “Ohmygod.” She drops her head to my shoulder, swaying. “Do you think Austin knows?”

  “Knows what?” Austin asks, sauntering up to us, his expression murderous.

  “Claire drank a little too much. We’re just having a moment.” I grin, trying to play off Claire’s wasted state.

  Austin grumbles under his breath, looking over his shoulder. In an instant, Noah appears. “I’m going to take the girls home.”

  Claire shakes her head, her fingers gripping the material of my dress. “No. We want to stay.”

  “You can barely stand,” Austin snaps.

  She glances up, her eyes bleary, her makeup smeared. “Let Indy stay. She never goes out. Her vagina is going to close up if she doesn’t get some good di—”

  “Stop talking,” Austin demands.

  Holy shit. I’m going to kill Claire. I drop my face, knowing it’s flaming from my chest to the tips of my ears. I can’t believe Claire’s drunk ass just outed me like that. But I can’t deny it. Seven months is…seven months.

  My skin flushes all over again.

  Over the din of the chatter and the distant pulsing of the beat on the dance floor, I hear Noah and Austin exchange words.

  In the next instant, Claire’s being pulled from my arms as Austin supports her weight. He glances at me. “You want to stay, Indy?”

  Not after Claire’
s public declaration. Right now, I’d like the ground to open and plunge me to Earth’s core until the next century. I open my mouth as Noah says, “I’ll make sure you get home.”

  My mouth snaps shut. I look around the private section we’re enclosed in, the gorgeous women, the wildly attractive, muscular men, the plushness of the club. I am way out of my depth here. Way, way out of my comfort zone. I should leave. I should go back to my apartment and my reading chair and pour a glass of wine and lose myself in Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind.

  Claire pinches me, reminding me that I’m turning over a new leaf. Starting now.

  “Sure,” I hear myself say, still shocked that I’m agreeing to this.

  Austin cuts Noah a look. “Keep an eye on her.”

  “Of course, man,” he agrees, offering me a smile. “I promise, you’ll have fun, Indy.”

  “I’m sure she will,” Claire mutters.

  Austin shakes his head, pulling her toward the exit. He points at me. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “I’ll be okay, Aus.” I wave him off. Even though I haven’t spent a ton of time growing up around Austin, he’s always looked out for me like I was his third sister. The same way Aiden does. The realization warms me up, filling a bit of my only-child void.

  Noah shuffles forward, his fingers pressing into the small of my back. He dips his head. “Want a drink?”

  I nod.

  He steers me closer to the front of the bar. “We can leave whenever you want.”

  “Oh, I don’t have to stay if you have,” I pause, glancing around the space, “plans.”

  Noah chuckles, following my line of sight. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, Austin told me this isn’t really your scene. So, whenever you’re ready to call it a night, tell me.”

  I scoff, pulling back and looking at him. “What? You’re going to tell me this isn’t your scene either?”

  Chagrin flushes across his features and he flags down a bartender. “Nope. Lately this is too much my scene.”