Hard Lines & Goal Lines (Fast Ice Book 2)

by Stephanie Julian

  “Why are you still here anyway?”

  Wincing at the sharp edge in her voice, she glanced over—and up—at Tim. Another man might’ve been offended. Hell, Rich would’ve demanded to know what was wrong with her. He’d always wanted to know what was wrong with her. As if she’d done something she shouldn’t.

  Why the hell did you stay with him as long as you did?

  Good question.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the Sunnyspace event.”

  Relief flooded through her, which was ridiculous but, damn it, at least this was a subject they could discuss with no hidden agendas.

  For as long as she’d known him, Tim had been involved with a local charity for homeless and battered women. She’d never asked, and he’d never volunteered why this particular subject was near and dear to his heart, even though she wanted to, badly. But it obviously was. Tim never made a big deal about his involvement. He preferred to keep his support private, or, at the very least, low-key. But he’d pressed the Colonials organization to contribute money and exposure since he’d arrived in Philly.

  She admired the hell out of the work he did behind the scenes for Sunnyspace. Sure, lots of the guys had pet charities they gave money and exposure to. But Tim’s commitment went above and beyond, for little to no recognition.

  “What can I help you with?”

  Those words came out of her mouth at least five times a day. A reflex. But, she realized, with Tim they weren’t just words.

  Danger, danger, danger.

  She shook that thought out of her head and pressed the button for the elevator, suddenly realizing that she and Tim would be confined in a small box for the trip to the parking garage.

  Her heart began to pound for no good reason. Okay, maybe she had a good reason. Maybe it was a damn good reason. And maybe she just needed to not think about what that reason was until they were out of the elevator.

  The bell announced its arrival and the door opened. Tim waved her ahead of him. He still hadn’t answered her question. And as she stepped into the elevator where they’d be confined for the trip to the garage, she realized she could see his reflection perfectly in the shiny walls.

  Her breath caught as their gazes met and held. And held. And still he didn’t say anything. The words to prompt him to say something, anything, were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t force herself to speak them.

  He mesmerized her. It was the only word that fit how she felt standing next to him. Even though she wore three-inch heels, he towered over her. In bare feet, she stood a respectable five-foot six. Of course, in hockey, the men tended to be over six feet tall. And broad. Heavily muscled chests. Thick thighs. Washboard abs. And constantly black and blue.

  Tim had a bruise on his temple, probably from the game Sunday night. She could barely see it because of his shaggy hair, but she knew it was there. He’d taken a shot off the mask that had made every person in the arena gasp as his head snapped back and his mask had fallen off.

  He'd skated around to the back of the net, shaking his head as one of the refs skated over to talk to him. Seconds later, he’d skated back to the net, pulled on his helmet and his glove, glided forward a few feet, glided back, tapped each pipe of the net then got into his ready position.

  That pretty much summed up the man his teammates called Tank. He could shake off a slapshot to the head and go on to save the game. And all he had to do was look at her the way he was right now, and she felt like she was the one who’d taken a puck to the head.

  “So, I need a date to the gala.”

  She blinked, unsure she’d heard him correctly, even though she knew she had.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I need a date for the Sunnyspace gala.”

  “Are you… I mean, I’m not sure what you’re asking. Are you asking me to go with you?”

  “Yeah. But it’s not a date.” He shrugged, making her feel stupid for being flustered. “I need someone to go with me and since you’re going anyway, I figured we could go together.”

  Okay. This was obviously a “date” of convenience. Which was fine. Really.

  Yeah, right.

  But he wasn’t finished.

  “Think of it like a work thing you gotta do.”

  Is that how he was going to think about it? Like a “work thing”?

  She studied his expression in the reflection, but it showed nothing. Just Tim, staring back at her with steady dark eyes, a warm chocolate brown that made her melt.

  She’d never say it out loud, but she loved Tim’s eyes. When he stared at her, like he was now, she found herself mesmerized. And that was so not a good thing. Especially not this minute.

  Her chin tilted up, an unconscious gesture even she recognized as defensive. Quickly followed by a hint of a smile on Tim’s mouth. Damn him. He had a beautiful mouth. Full and wide and—

  She tore her traitorous gaze away from his lips.

  No more of that.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to respond with a smart-ass comment, something witty about his inability to get a date. But she knew that wasn’t true. This man could date any woman he wanted. He just…didn’t. He wasn’t like some of the other guys who dated a different girl every night. Guys like Straka and Pannebacker and Lindbach. To them, dating was a sport.

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “If I didn’t want to go with you, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  His tone hadn’t changed, at all, but she swore there was a look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. A challenge. And because she was who she was, she couldn’t ignore it.

  “I guess we could make plans to attend together… What? Why are you smiling like that?”

  He shook his head, shaggy curls falling across his eyes until he pushed them back with one big hand. “I’m not smiling like anything.”

  Her breath caught again as her brain came up with all sorts of things he could do with that hand. All the different ways he could touch her. How those scarred and rough fingers would feel against her skin, especially the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs as he pushed them open—

  Okay. Enough of that.

  With a strength of will she hadn’t known she possessed, she shoved those images out of her mind and focused on the here and now.

  “Of course we can go together. I’ll set up a limo and let you know what time it will pick you up. Black tie, right? Do you want me to—”

  “I’m perfectly capable of renting my own tux.”

  Did she hear amusement in his voice? Or annoyance. Of course, it was. He was a grown man and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He wasn’t her brother or her dad. He was…just Tim.

  “Of course. Then I guess that’s set.”

  The elevator stopped and the door opened, a wave of cold air sweeping into the elevator cage, making her shiver. Three weeks before Christmas and Mother Nature had decided to bring winter on with a vengeance. The daytime temperature had barely hit forty. And yeah, she worked for a hockey team. Still, Gabby hated to be cold.

  But she wasn’t sure her shiver had everything to do with the air temperature. A couple of lights had blown down here, and there were more shadows than usual. On a good day, this underground garage gave her the creeps. Tonight…

  Stop it. You’re just freaking yourself out.

  Rich was long gone. And she had no reason to fear him. She refused to believe she could have misjudged him so badly.

  Shaking her head, she headed for her car, Tim at her side. She didn’t tell him not to bother, that she could walk by herself the rest of the way. No, she let him walk her to her car, close enough that she could almost convince herself she could feel the heat coming off his body.

  She had her keys in her hand, as she always did when she walked to her car, no matter where it was parked. She was a city girl. She knew better than to not be prepared for anything.

  They reached her car in a matter of seconds, the silence between them stretching out u
ncomfortably. She didn’t know whether she was relieved that she’d been overly dramatic about Rich…or upset that her time with Tim was over so soon.

  You’re an idiot.

  Yes, she was. But she was also an idiot who’d said yes to a date with him. Even though neither of them had called it a date. Because it wasn’t a date. It was an event they were attending separately but together.

  Mental gymnastics much? Geez.

  Stopping at the passenger’s side, she clicked open the locks and was about to reach for the handle when Tim grabbed it from behind and opened it for her. Throwing her bags on the seat, she turned to give Tim a quick smile before walking to the driver’s side. She expected him to stay where he was but, of course, he didn’t. He followed her around the car and opened that door for her too.

  Why did he have to be such a nice guy?

  So not fair.

  Maybe the question you need to be asking is why you dated a jerk like Rich.

  A guy she’d been afraid would be lurking in the parking garage, waiting for her.

  Sliding into the car, she gave Tim another quick smile.

  “Thank you again. I appreciate you walking with me.”

  She expected him to close the door, to let her make her escape. He didn’t.

  “You want to grab some dinner?”

  She looked up and their gazes collided and held. She wanted to say yes. She didn’t want to go home to her dark condo alone, warm up leftovers for dinner or order something from the deli down the street.

  She wanted to share a meal with a friend. Problem was, she didn’t have many. And those she did have were married with children or in committed relationships. She’d learned she couldn’t just call them up and ask them to meet her for a drink or a quick meal anymore. She’d learned if she didn’t want to look pathetic eating alone at a restaurant, she needed to order her meals in.

  Which was part of the reason she’d finally said yes to a date with Rich.

  And look where that got you.

  Tim didn’t classify as a friend. So why was she considering saying yes to his questions?

  When she didn’t answer right away, he continued. “Think I’m gonna stop for some dinner at The Brig. You hungry?”

  Honestly, she was starving, and she wanted to say yes. Wanted to go with him.

  Wanted…him. And couldn’t have him.

  Swallowing, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m wiped. I’m gonna go home, take a shower, and crash.”

  “Aren’t you gonna eat?”

  Her stomach chose that moment to growl, causing Tim’s lips to curve in a slight grin that was sexier than any smile Rich had ever forced out of his cold, thin lips.

  “I’ll have something delivered.”

  “Want me to pick up something for you? I can drop it off. You’re on my way home.”

  Silence hung in the air between them as she considered all the reasons she should say no. And the one reason she wanted to say yes. Whether he realized it or not, he’d just offered to take care of her. Something she hadn’t let anyone do in a long time.

  With good reason. Don’t forget why you asked him to walk you to your car.

  But Tim wasn’t Rich.

  “Thank you, but I’m good.”

  Tim stared at her for another couple of seconds before he nodded, like it was no big deal. “Okay. Have a good night, Gabby. If you need anything…”

  He let the rest of that sentence hang out there and she wanted so much to say, “Okay, sure, let’s grab dinner,” that she knew she had to get out of here now.

  “Thanks for walking me to my car.”

  “No problem. Night.”

  Then he checked to make sure all her limbs were in the car before he closed her driver-side door, tapped on the hood of the car, and stepped away.

  She forced herself to turn the key and put the car in gear and step on the gas.

  And if she glanced in the rearview a few times just to see if he was still there, well, no one saw her do it.

  “Hey, Tank. How’s it going? You look like you had a crappy day.”

  Huffing out a laugh, Tim shook his head as he slid into a worn leather booth at The Brig. “Why, thanks, Sugar.”

  The bitty blonde waitress who always seemed to be working whenever he came in blushed as she handed him a menu he didn’t really need because he knew it by heart.

  “Sorry.” She grimaced and looked over her shoulder, as if worried someone had heard her. “Didn’t mean that to sound so bad. You just look tired. And that shiner looks painful.”

  “They always look worse before they look better. Doesn’t hurt. You feeling any better today?”

  Taking the menu, he looked it over for a second before deciding it was definitely a burger night. He’d worked up an appetite between practice and the workout he’d gotten in afterward, before he’d walked in on Gabby and the asshole she’d broken up with.

  “Oh yeah. I’m fine.” She waved away his concern with her order pad. “Must not have eaten enough yesterday. You want a glass of milk or a beer tonight?”

  She never looked like she ate enough, but he wasn’t her father so… “Start with milk.” He’d save the beer for after he’d eaten. “And I’ll have the burger tonight. Thanks, Shug.”

  “No problem.” The kid flashed him a smile. “Be back in a sec.”

  Tim watched Sugar make her way through the muddle of mismatched dining tables toward the kitchen to deliver his order, saw her rub at her back with her hand, probably to ease the ache from standing on her feet twelve hours a day. This wasn’t her only job. He knew she had at least one other waitressing gig at a place that made this diner look like a four-star restaurant.

  “Tank, how’s it go—Whoa, son! What happened to your face? Janine!” The navy vet who owned the place shouted over her shoulder to her wife. “Bring an ice pack for Tank’s face!”

  Grimacing, Tim shook his head at the woman who ran this place like a finely tuned machine.

  “Jesus, I don’t look that bad, Georgie.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly looked better.” The sixty-something former Army intel officer grabbed his chin and turned his head to the side to check out his eye. “That had to hurt.”

  Shrugging, Tim let her examine his face, knowing she’d make an even bigger fuss if he put up a fight. From the moment he’d walked through the door four years ago, Georgie had practically adopted him. He’d been wary of her open acceptance at first, a hard lesson learned after Tim had signed his first professional contract. Everyone had wanted to be his friend then. But he’d quickly discovered Georgie didn’t have a false bone in her body. What she did have was a huge heart beneath a gruff, no-nonsense exterior.

  “I’ve had worse.”

  She huffed. “I’m sure you have. I’m pretty sure you weren’t born with that nose.”

  She also had no filter. He snorted in amusement and ran a finger over the bump on the bridge of his nose.

  “Nice of you to point that out.”

  Georgie’s mouth twisted. “Hey, now, you know better than to get offended at anything I say. The nose gives your face character.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying it can’t make my face any worse than it already is?”

  Georgie laughed, loud and long,

  “Damn it, Georgie, leave the boy alone. He looks like he’s taken enough of a beating.”

  Janine appeared at the side of his table as if by magic. The yang to Georgie’s yin, Janine had missed being a flower child by twenty years but lived her life by its mantra of peace, love, and understanding…and peasant skirts and t-shirts with her politics in full view. Today’s choice: a rainbow flag flying over the White House.

  “This from the Winnipeg game the other night?” Janine made a circle with her finger in front of his face. “You got your bell rung pretty hard on that slapshot from Devinski.”

  “Yeah. But I stopped the shot.”

  Janine handed him the ice pack she’d brought with her and he dutifully put it
against his eye.

  “Good thing, too, or you might’ve lost that game. And the team’s doing good but not that good. You saved Brick’s bacon that night.”

  “That’s why they pay me.”

  “Mm hmm.” Janine’s gaze narrowed. “Something else wrong, kid?”

  Biting back a sigh, he shook his head, making sure he maintained eye contact. Janine might look like a flighty hippie with her gray-streaked flyaway curls and hazy blue eyes, but she had an uncanny knack of knowing when one of her flock was distressed. Or, in Tim’s case, frustrated.

  “Just hungry. Long day.”

  Georgie took that as her cue to head back to the kitchen. “Ordered a burger, didn’t you? I’m gonna add more vegetables to that plate before they send it out.”

  Georgie slid out of the booth, and Janine slid into the spot she’d just vacated, as seamless as if they’d practiced the move.

  “No, that’s not it.” Janine’s gaze narrowed on his. “Something happened. Wanna talk about it?”

  He gained a short reprieve as Sugar returned with two glasses, milk and water, which he hadn’t asked for but that she remembered he always got.

  Growing up in a small town in western Michigan, close enough to the Canadian border that he could touch it, Tim understood the dynamics of a small community. Back home, it’d been a chain around his neck. Here, he had two, and they’d become his lifeline.

  He had his hockey community, his teammates and their extended families. And he had this community, the one he’d found in a diner around the corner from his condo. Much smaller but just as important.

  Georgie and Janine. Bernie, the old guy who parked his ass at the end of the counter every morning from eight to nine-thirty, reading his paper and bitching about the Eagles to anyone in hearing distance. Sun and Carlos, the young couple who lived in one of the apartments above the diner and who were getting married in two months. And Sugar, who’d showed up six months ago looking like a malnourished teenager with an ID that claimed she was twenty-two and that her name was legally Sugar.

  Georgie had given Sugar a job and eventually gotten the girl to move into one of the other apartments above the diner, away from the rat-infested place she’d been renting in South Philly.