Playmaker

by Jami Davenport

  There were barbecues, parties, and good times.

  I was swept away by a tsunami of activity and sex, and I didn’t fight it. I was in denial my perfect world might crash down on me after the wedding, because what else could I do?

  If I’d ever doubted my love for Lanie, one thing became crystal clear. As each day passed, I loved her more. I didn’t know how that was possible, but it was.

  Tonight, the night before the wedding, was the bachelor party being held at the Parker mansion, thanks to the team owner. The location alone gave the team notice this party wouldn’t be a drunken debauchery. I was good with that. I’d outgrown such things when I’d met Lanie. The women were having their own bachelorette party hosted by Lavender Harris, the wife of the former Steelhead quarterback now coach, Tyler Harris. Lavender and Caro had met a few months ago while doing fundraising together for a joint sports wives’ charity benefitting child cancer.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a wilder affair than the one Steele planned for Easton. Already, some teammates were grousing about how dull it would be and organizing their own party afterward. Ziggy and Cave, who’d been involved in the brawl that had resulted in our suspension from the team, were ready to party till they passed out—their words, not mine. They didn’t learn their lesson, but they didn’t have a good female by their side either. At least they’d be in a private home and not in a bar with unsuspecting patrons and idiots stupidly drunk enough to take them on.

  Since I wasn’t partying and didn’t have an active role in planning the bachelor party, I accepted the unofficial role of babysitter for those two clowns. I wouldn’t be able to stop them from getting shit-faced; no one could do that. I could, however, prevent them from getting into a fight and busting up the Parker mansion. That was my mission tonight, which freed up Steele to manage the party, Axel to help, and Easton to enjoy himself worry-free.

  When we entered the large building, Ethan Parker and his wife, Lauren, were already there. I hadn’t realized they’d be in attendance. My job had just gotten easier. That’d definitely put a damper on any out-of-control celebrations. Even Cave and Ziggy weren’t that stupid.

  Steele calmly and efficiently gave orders to the many staff hustling about, while Axel greeted guests, and I hung out wishing I was with Lanie. The room filled quickly with teammates, staff, and coaches. The catering and decorations were handled by local businesses, paid handsomely to take on this task at the last minute. I heard rumors Mr. Parker was footing the bill. Since he had billions, I doubted it put a dent in his bankroll.

  I’d been nervous about seeing many of my teammates and coaches for the first time since I’d been suspended, but I shouldn’t have worried. For the most part, they seemed to forgive me, though some muttered unflattering comments about rookies, and others lectured me on what a dumb-shit move that’d been. A few shot me scathing glares, and I avoided those few. Guys like that needed more time to cool off. I lost track of the number of apologies I gave that night.

  Since my wards hadn’t arrived yet, I wandered over to the buffet and picked up a plate, perusing the choices with the eye of a wannabe chef. Someone had filled in the caterers on how much hockey players ate. Rather than the usual tiny appetizers I’d seen at many charity functions, serving platters were heaped with prime rib, salad, mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, chicken, salmon, and some veggie dishes, and there was a huge table packed with various desserts.

  My stomach rumbled with appreciation, reminding me I hadn’t eaten for hours. I liked to eat as much as I liked to cook. I filled my plate and found a quiet corner to watch the action and wolf down some incredible grub. A waitress relieved me of my plate, and I grabbed a beer from the open bar in the corner. The cute bartender flirted with me, tried to give me her number, but I turned her down and left a big tip. She shrugged, thanked me for the tip, and moved on to our rookie goalie, Roman Maxwell, who was definitely on the market. I wandered away, stopping when I heard my name.

  “Westbrook.”

  I turned toward the voice, and team captain Isaac “Ice” Wolfe broke off from the group he’d been talking to and came toward me. He held out his hand, and I gladly shook it. He was holding a Coke because Ice didn’t drink. Not anymore.

  “Good to see you here,” he said.

  “Good to be here. I…I’m sorry for my idiocy and endangering the team’s chances.”

  “Yeah, I know you are. We’ve all done stupid shit we aren’t proud of as rookies. Some of us got away with it, some didn’t. Just don’t ever repeat that mistake.”

  “I won’t,” I said earnestly and from the heart. I had learned the error of my ways, and there’d been no excuse for what I’d done, not even a broken heart. I was a professional hockey player, and my personal and professional lives must remain separate. No matter what turmoil I might be going through personally, I’d never again allow it to affect my ability to play the game I loved.

  “Good.” Ice nodded and scanned the room. “Later.” He was gone just like that. Ice was a man of few words, but the team listened whenever he spoke.

  Ziggy and Cave entered the building, heading straight for food. They filled their plates. Cave ate like a caveman, one of the reasons he had that nickname, and Ziggy managed to keep up. Once they’d had a few plates of food each, they beelined for the bar. I strode over to them and inserted myself into their conversation.

  “How’s it going?” I said.

  “Good,” Cave grunted.

  “It’s a fucking fine night, but where are the women?” Ziggy asked, glancing around.

  “We’re at Mr. Parker’s mansion and Steele organized this.”

  “Fuck,” Ziggy muttered under his breath, knowing exactly what that meant.

  “So no half-naked chicks?” Disappointment was written all over Cave’s face. He’d been expecting a different kind of night.

  “None.”

  Both their faces fell.

  I took note of the whiskey the bartender had handed both of them. “After this one, drink beer.”

  “Who the fuck are you? My mother?” Cave’s scowl was fierce, but I didn’t back down.

  “Yeah, tonight consider me your mother. No more hard liquor, because you guys are always spoiling for a fight when you drink whiskey.”

  “And you aren’t?” Ziggy accused.

  I held up my beer. “I’m drinking beer. Just like the two of you will be the rest of the night.”

  They grumbled and cussed me out under their breath, then left me standing there. Satisfied they couldn’t get into too much trouble, I walked onto the large patio running the length of the mansion in back and leaned against a column.

  On the lawn, Steele had arranged yard games, croquet, bocce ball, and cornhole. No shit. A hockey player’s bachelor party with yard games? As weird as it sounded, several guests were playing, and laughter rang out along with good-natured ribbing. I’d never attended a bachelor party quite like this, but no one complained. In fact, I saw tons of smiling faces.

  I strolled back inside, talking with more guests, apologizing to most, and picking up team gossip from others, like who was being traded, who was looking elsewhere, stuff like that.

  A cute blonde wheeled out a large cake, like an epically huge one, and the guests began to gather round. I sidled up to Steele, who was standing back from the gathering crowd with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “What the fuck? You have a stripper?” I’d never expected this of Steele.

  “Not your normal stripper.” He gave me the side eye and looked forward again.

  “Did you run this by Mr. Parker?”

  “No need to.” One corner of his lips twitched. Something was afoot.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Penance.” Steele’s gaze didn’t waver from the cake.

  Only then did I get it. I glanced around the room for Axel. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. “You didn’t?”

  Steele’s grin cracked his stone face. “I did.”

  “
Dude, you are fucking ruthless.”

  “You’re next.”

  “Don’t go to the bother.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that. Just remember, payback is a bitch.”

  “You’ll be waiting a long fucking time to pay me back.”

  “You sure? I used to think the same way. Love hits you up the side of the head before you ever know what happened and can mount a defense. Then you find out you don’t want a defense.”

  “Not me. Never.”

  I frowned at him, not sure why his words irritated me, but they did. The sucker was in denial. Someday, Cupid’s arrow would be pointed right at his heart. He might fall for a total opposite like Cin. I’d pay money to see that. Love struck us all at some point in time, and Steele would be better off for it, as most of his fellow bros were.

  Good God, what the fuck had I done with Kaden? I couldn’t believe I was thinking about love and romance, but I owned it, and I didn’t really care.

  “It’s starting.” Steele pointed toward the massive cake. His face lit up with glee. The bastard was getting perverse enjoyment out of this. The clueless bastard didn’t realize he was one step from being the next one to fall from his misperceived mighty perch of bachelorism.

  The cake popped open, and the single guys hustled to the front of the gathering crowd. I knew what they were expecting. As big as that cake was, they also probably thought two strippers would pop out of it, or even better, twins.

  A classic stripper song started playing on the Bluetooth speaker Steele produced.

  The top of the cake popped open.

  And…

  We waited. Cave and Ziggy were literally salivating, while even Roman suspended his flirtation with the bartender to watch.

  No one came out.

  My teammates yelled at the top of their lungs, clapping and stomping on the floors. Even the coaches and staff joined in. I chanced a glance at Mr. Parker. He stood off to one side with his wife. Neither seemed upset, more like amused.

  I turned back to the cake.

  A dark head appeared, followed by a very familiar face.

  Oh my God.

  Axel.

  The place went crazy, way more than if this had been a scantily clad female. Axel’s face burned red with embarrassment tinged with anger. He slowly emerged from the cake, first his bare torso, his hips, and then one leg at a time. He wore orange swimming trunks. Several teammates lifted their phones and recorded videos and took pictures.

  Axel turned to Steele and mouthed the words, “I’m going to kill you.”

  I broke into laughter so hard I was snorting. Ziggy and Cave blew kisses at Axel and thrust their hips. Steele snickered.

  “I never knew you had this level of ruthlessness in you,” I said as an aside.

  Steele grinned. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  “No shit.”

  Axel climbed down the side of the cake and jumped to the floor. He stood stiffly and planted his fists on his hips, still glaring at Steele, who merely smirked right back. Steele made circles with his index finger to indicate Axel needed to move.

  Sullen and scowling, Axel danced like a robot with jerky movements as he made his way to the guest of honor. As he walked past, many of our teammates tucked dollar bills in his waistband, earning deadly glares and a string of four-letter words. Easton sat in a chair, laughing his ever-loving ass off. Getting into the spirit, he crooked his finger at Axel, who promptly flipped him off and drew another hoot of laughter from the raucous crowd.

  Axel stopped about five feet in front of Easton. I was pretty sure he was ready to get the fuck out of here.

  The guys were chanting, “Lap dance! Lap dance! Lap dance!” They stomped their large feet and shouted rude and crude remarks. I joined in, while keeping one eye on Cave and Ziggy. They were in the front of the crowd, making bawdy gestures, thoroughly entertained.

  “Come on, Axe. Give the man what he wants,” shouted Ice, thoroughly surprising me.

  Axel, with a visible sigh, succumbed to his fate. He wasn’t about to do a lap dance, but he did a sultry hip-swinging dance around Easton’s chair. Once he made a full circuit, he bowed low, blew a kiss at Easton, and strutted off toward the hallway. He put his hands behind his back, flipping us off with both of them.

  He disappeared down the hallway to catcalls and applause. Ziggy and Cave stepped forward to fist-bump Steele, who was grinning widely.

  Only then did I notice our party had been crashed by the ladies.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Party Crashers

  ~~Delaney~~

  * * *

  I’d been to wilder bachelorette parties back in my Ivy League college days and days on the Hill. As parties went, this one was somewhat tame. No male strippers. Since there hadn’t been time for a separate bridal shower, we’d combined the two events. It’d been Geneva’s idea to suggest adult toys and negligees for gifts.

  We ate, drank wine, and waited for Caro to open the gifts, then drank more wine. I personally didn’t like the gift-opening aspect of any party, finding it boring as hell, but the adult gifts actually added an element of fun.

  I was laughing so hard I was crying as one after another sex toy was unwrapped.

  Caro picked up one beautifully wrapped gift and looked at the card on it. “Thank you, Bella.” She opened the package and pulled out a multicolored large dildo. She held it up for everyone to ooh and ah over.

  “Is it big enough?” Bella asked with a wicked wink. “I know all our guys are well-endowed.”

  “It’ll do the job.” As she’d done with the other toys, she handed it to the person next to her to pass it around. “Writing the thank you notes for some of these might be fun.”

  “Don’t forget to include a personal experience in the note. Makes it more meaningful that way,” Bella said, and the group voiced their approval.

  Caro held her own with these women, and I saluted her for that. She reached for the next gift, which was in a hot pink gift bag with a package of condoms tied to the bow. Pushing aside the tissue, she held up a gold cylinder a little larger than a finger. “Okay. I give on this one. What is this?” It had nubs all over it, and a small loop on one side.

  The veteran players’ wives glanced at each other knowingly. Izzy, whose husband was former team captain turned coach Cooper Black, spoke up with authority. “It’s a finger vibrator.” She held out a hand, and Caro handed it to her. “You put it on your finger like this, turn it on, and use it wherever it feels best.”

  “Do I use it or does he?”

  “There are no rules to sex toys, honey. You do what you’re comfortable with.” The other wives nodded in agreement while Caro, Geneva, and I stared at the array of sex toys, many of which we’d never seen before.

  “Let me see that one,” shouted Caro’s childhood friend, Juniper, who’d arrived yesterday from Chicago.

  Caro handed it across to her and selected another gift bag. She extracted the device from the tissue and held it up. “I can’t believe I have two children and don’t know what half this stuff is. What’s this?”

  More giggling from the women present.

  “It’s a joke because none of our guys would probably need it, but it’s for a guy with a short dick.”

  “Oh…” Caro snorted. “I won’t need it.”

  More laughing and wine drinking. The presents were all unwrapped, and we gathered round, checking out the gifts, turning them on, asking questions. Izzy seemed to know the most, and I’d never look at Cooper Black the same again when I saw him.

  “Let’s crash the bachelor party,” Bella, the wife of assistant captain Cedric Pederson, suggested. We were tipsy at best and drunk at the worst, and no one objected to the plan. Old Mansion Road was less than a mile away, so we hoofed it, laughing and staggering down the quiet country road.

  Izzy was our fearless leader. After all, she owned a professional party-crashing business.
We followed her around to the back of the mansion, through an unlocked gate.

  The bunch of us clomped up the side steps to the wide patio. We weren’t the quietest group, but the group inside was even noisier. We heard laughter and cheering coming from inside along with loud music.

  Caro grabbed Geneva’s and my arms and pulled us closer. “That better not be a stripper they have in there.”

  Izzy had reached one of the open French doors first and peered in. “Oh, yeah, it’s a stripper.”

  “I’m going to kill him.” Caro pushed past us to get to the door with Geneva hot on her heels, probably trying to avert a murder. She stopped dead in the doorway, stared for a few moments, then backed up, doubling over in laughter.

  Curiosity got the best of us as we crowded in the doorway, no longer caring about being stealthy. The spectacle was a sight to see. Axel was in skimpy swim trunks, dancing and gyrating around the chair that Easton was sitting in. The guys were chanting for a lap dance, but Axel finished his tour of the chair, flipped off his comrades, and danced down the hallway out of sight to the applause of his teammates and other guests.

  Only then did all eyes in the room turn toward the open doorway.

  Busted.

  Izzy strutted right inside, followed by her sisters, Avery and Bella, as if they did this every night, which I’m guessing they almost did.

  As the women reunited with their somewhat drunk to very drunk men, Kaden and I gravitated toward each other. Hand in hand, we invaded the dessert bar. As short as I was, I’d been blessed with a pretty good metabolism, and I was able to eat almost whatever I wanted without putting on weight. Yeah, I know, most women hate me for that.