Hard Lines & Goal Lines (Fast Ice Book 2)

by Stephanie Julian

  “Thanks, Shug.”

  The girl flashed him a quick smile then hustled off to take care of her other tables in the bustling restaurant. Even though it was Tuesday, almost all the gleaming retro-red booths were filled. A testament to Georgie’s recipes and her assurance that if you left hungry, she’d feed you for free next time. He was pretty sure she’d never lost that bet. Not even to him.

  “So?” Janine pressed, after he’d put down the empty water glass. “Do I have to drag it out of you?”

  Suppressing a sigh, he shook his head. “Nothing to tell.” When her brows rose, he held up one hand. “Honestly. Just a long day. Tapes this morning then practice for three hours and another couple hours in the gym after that. I’m beat.”

  “Hmph.” Janine’s gaze narrowed even more, and her head tilted to the side. Waiting.

  And he broke.

  Rolling his eyes, he sighed again, long and loud. “Okay, look. There might’ve been an incident on my way out the door but—”

  “What kind of incident?”

  “Just some guy hassling a friend.”

  Could he call Gabby a friend?

  Can’t call her anything else, can you?

  “And this friend was female?”

  He considered not answering but knew Janine wouldn’t let it go. She’d sit across from him and stare at him until he gave in. Again.

  “Yeah.”

  “Ah.”

  As if she knew exactly what he’d been going to say. And maybe she had. He swore she could read minds. Stifling yet another sigh, he stared at her in silence for several seconds before shaking his head.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “What’s not like that?”

  “My relationship with this woman.”

  Her head tilted to the side and Tim wanted to kick his own ass. Janine could read people even better than Georgie.

  “So now there’s a relationship.”

  “No. I mean, yeah. She’s just someone I work with.”

  “So it’s a work relationship.”

  His jaw set and it was all he could do to speak through clenched teeth. “Yes, it’s a work relationship.”

  He had the sudden urge to bang his head against the countertop as her brows rose. “But that’s not all you want it to be.”

  A reluctant grin curved his lips “Were you this adept at torture in your previous job?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

  The glint in her pale-green gaze made him want to close his eyes and bang his head against the table in front of him.

  “Your talents were wasted as a high school counselor. Why the hell didn’t anyone recruit you for the CIA? I’m pretty sure you would’ve made a damn fine interrogator.”

  Janine’s brow rose and now she totally looked like the part. “Still not sure what you’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure you’re avoiding my question.”

  “I’m pretty sure you haven’t asked me a question.”

  “Yes, I did. You just don’t want to answer it.”

  He sighed, long and loud. “She’s my best friend’s sister. She also works for the team.”

  “Ah. Okay.” Janine grinned. “Now I get the picture. See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

  “If you consider the fact that I really don’t want to talk about it, then yeah, it feels like I just went through hell.”

  “No. You haven’t.”

  And because Georgie had been stationed in the Middle East for several tours during the past ten years and had come home to Janine with some hardcore PTSD, he wanted to take his words back immediately. Instead, he nodded in agreement then slumped back onto the padded back of the booth.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Lots of things are complicated.” Janine shook her head, her gaze never releasing his. “Tell me why you think this one is.”

  She almost had him. Another couple of seconds and he would’ve told her everything. But Sugar returned and saved his ass. As she laid out his meal, which included a salad he hadn’t ordered, a double portion of steamed broccoli, and a slice of apple pie, she looked to Janine.

  “Georgie said stop interrogating Tank and let him eat. She needs you in the kitchen.”

  Janine grinned and Tank tried not to let his intense relief show.

  “If she knew what we were talking about, she never would’ve recalled me.”

  With a laugh, Janine slid out of the booth before reaching over to ruffle Tank’s hair. The gesture was affectionate and one he’d come to expect from her. She took her role as surrogate mother around here seriously.

  “Eat. We can talk later. If you want. You know where to find me.”

  Nodding, he grinned up at her. “I do. Thanks, Janine.”

  “Sure thing. Eat all your food. You’re looking a little thin.”

  He and Sugar, still standing by his table, laughed at that as Janine walked away. When she was finally out of earshot, Sugar shook her head. “They’re good people.”

  “Some of the best.” When she didn’t leave immediately, Tank studied the girl’s expression a little harder. “You need something, Shug?”

  Her cheeks flared with bright color, a sure sign she wanted to say something. “Actually…” She shook her head. “No. Of course not. Sorry, just caught me daydreaming.”

  As she hustled back to the kitchen, he watched her rub one hand on the back of her neck. When was that girl going to reach her breaking point? He’d seen women work like this before, two and three jobs just to pay the bills. Always looking over their shoulder, waiting for the past, or whatever it was they were running from, to catch up with them. He also knew from firsthand experience that sometimes women never got away in the first place. And that was even more infuriating.

  Maybe he needed to be a little more—

  “Hey, thought I’d find you here. You mind if I sit?”

  Looking up, Tim’s eyes widened in surprise at the guy towering over his table.

  “RJ? Hey, man. What the hell? How’d you know where to find me?”

  Sliding into the booth opposite him, RJ took off his ball cap and tossed it into the corner like he had a personal grudge against the thing.

  “I asked Gabby.” He shrugged, like it should be obvious. Like, of course Gabby would know where to find him. Gabby knew everything. “Didn’t feel like eating alone again. I stopped by your place, but you weren’t there, and your phone must be off.”

  Tim reached for his pocket and dragged out his phone. Sure enough, he hadn’t turned the ringer on after practice. He wasn’t one of those guys who had the damn thing surgically attached to his hand. Yeah, he checked it occasionally, but he hadn’t since he’d gotten here.

  RJ was one of the few people in his favorites list. Friends since they’d met as kids at a US Hockey developmental camp when they were twelve, they’d never played together professionally until RJ had signed with the Colonials before the season started.

  And now that he had, they’d become even closer. Turmoil could do that to friends. RJ had brought a whole shitload of turmoil with him. Which was probably what’d put the dark circles under Gabby’s eyes recently.

  “Sorry. What’s up?”

  RJ’s gaze dropped away for a split second. “Nothing. Just…too much shit in my head to spend the night alone in my apartment. Needed to get out for a while.”

  Yeah, Tim could definitely understand that. “Then I hope you’re hungry because this place has the best burgers in the city.”

  A spark of amusement lit RJ’s gaze before it was pushed out by the strain that seemed to be his constant state of being these days. RJ needed to get some of this shit off his chest. Tim was open to hearing him out but…they were in public. And RJ wouldn’t want to talk about his problems in public. Too many eyes and ears.

  Tim was surprised RJ hadn’t been recognized yet, between his movie-star looks and being a star player for a national league team. It wouldn’t be long before someone figured out why
he looked familiar. Most of the regulars here had gotten used to seeing Tank around. They knew he played for the Colonials, but he wasn’t a star player.

  RJ was a different story.

  For one thing, the guy was chick bait. He drew female attention wherever he went. Whether it was the light brown hair that never looked shaggy or the blue-brown eyes or the way his face was slapped together or the way he smiled, RJ stood out in a crowd. The fact that he was a genuinely decent guy was just the cherry on top. It also meant when he showed the slightest hint of anything less than perfection, he got trounced.

  Like what was happening now. He’d made a mistake, one Tim might’ve made himself if he’d been in the same situation. But if Tim had done it, it wouldn’t be all over the NHL Network, ESPN, and the local news in two major cities. All for trying to do the right thing. And doing it the absolute wrong way.

  “Hi there. What can I get you?”

  Sugar appeared at the side of the booth, notepad in hand. She wasn’t looking directly at RJ, but that blush was back on her cheeks. RJ did that to women all the time. Young, old, everyone in between. He didn’t even have to smile or turn on the charm. And they didn’t have to know he was, although if they did, it would be worse.

  Sugar probably knew who he was, but only because the diner TVs always played the Colonials’ games.

  “Oh, hey, I wasn’t planning to… What the he— uh, heck. I’ll take a burger and fries. And a root beer. Do you have root beer?”

  “Yes, sir. Anything else?”

  Tim gave Sugar a look, but she was studiously writing RJ’s order on her pad, even though she didn’t need the thing any other time.

  “No, that’s it.” RJ flashed her a quick, heartthrob smile. “Thanks.”

  Avoiding all eye contract, Sugar nodded, mumbled, “Sure thing,” then turned and headed back to the kitchen like her ass was on fire. Because that’s the effect RJ had on most people of the female persuasion. Which generally made people of the male asshole persuasion want to punch him in the face.

  “So,” Tim said when it was clear RJ was going to make him work for every word tonight, “you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  RJ didn’t bother to deny or make excuses, just took a look around to make sure they weren’t going to be overheard. The diner was busy, but Tim’s regular table was in a back corner and the closest tables had just been cleared. And no one appeared to be looking at them with that wide-eyed “holy shit, look who it is” expression.

  “Got a call earlier that made me wanna punch something, so I figured I’d better get out of the house before the damn reporters say I trashed my new place in a drunken rage.”

  Since RJ looked like he still wanted to punch something, Tim tried for levity. “Isn’t your brother’s new girlfriend one of those ‘damn reporters’?” Tim grinned to let RJ know he was just poking at him.

  RJ shrugged, not taking the bait. “Tara doesn’t count. She’s a sweetheart.”

  “I know that. Look, if you don’t wanna talk about it—”

  “It’s not that.” RJ shook his head, frustration clearly visible on his expression. “It’s just… Christ, what a mess.”

  “Hey, man.” Tim leaned onto the table, lowering his voice to be sure RJ had to listen to hear him. “You wanna tell me what the hell really happened out there? I mean, I get it if you don’t want to. I’ve heard the rumors,” and those were pretty fucking bad, “but I know you. And I know you wouldn’t do what they’re saying.”

  “Damn right, I wouldn’t.” RJ looked sick just to talk about it. “But most people don’t know me like you do. They’re willing to believe the worst, especially if a woman accuses you of assault. Jesus, I don’t blame those women for coming out with their story. Clairmont had it coming. But I didn’t do the shit they’re accusing him of. The problem is some shady fucking lawyers are telling them to go for the big payday so they’re going after me, too. Even though I wasn’t there and can prove it.”

  “So what exactly went down?”

  RJ kept shaking his head. “A few of the younger guys had a party. I was there for a few minutes. The doorman and the security cameras make it clear when I arrived and when I left. And everything happened after I left. Clairmont and Aube started a fight over one of the women. Typical asshole behavior from Clairmont. The guy’s a dick.”

  Yeah, he was. Doug Clairmont had a reputation as a hard partier ready to toss down his gloves at the slightest provocation. He also had a rep with the ladies. Love ’em and leave ’em, typically in the same two-hour span. Asshole manwhore.

  “So you left before the fight?”

  “Yeah. I keep thinking maybe if I’d stayed, I could’ve broken it up. Avoided all this shit.” RJ shook his head, his gaze practically stabbing the table between them. “I was on my way out and ran into one of the women. Literally. She was drunk and weaving all the hell over the place. You know me. I don’t go there. Ever.”

  True. When people called RJ a boy scout, they weren’t kidding. The guy never drank to excess, rarely swore, and always had a smile.

  That smile had disappeared in the past few weeks. They were only two months into the season, but RJ looked like he’d spent the past six months being ground into the boards. Not physically, but mentally. Dark circles under his eyes, perpetual frown, tight jaw, as if he was constantly clenching his teeth. And you got the sense he was holding himself in check all the time.

  The only time the guy looked like his normal self was when he was on the ice. He still played like the fucking amazing player he was.

  “So how the hell did you get dragged into whatever the fuck happened?”

  RJ shook his head, his jaw tightening until the muscles stood out in stark relief.

  “I offered to take her home. She got as far as the door and decided she didn’t want to leave. I seriously considered throwing her over my shoulder and just putting her in my car, but she was over eighteen, you know? I figured I’d get in trouble if I just shoved her in my car and drove away.” He grunted. “Of course, now it’s so much worse.”

  “I know they charged Clairmont already, but are they gonna charge you with something or just let the rumors keep swirling?”

  “No fu—” He shook his head and his mouth twisted in a grimace. “I don’t have a clue.”

  RJ looked up then, his gaze focusing over Tim’s shoulder. And his smile returned, the fake one that fooled most other people.

  “Watch out. Plate’s hot.”

  Sugar had returned with RJ’s food.

  “Thanks.” RJ nodded. “This looks great.”

  Sugar’s smile reappeared for a split second. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Then she disappeared back to the kitchen before Tim had a chance to ask for a refill for his water. RJ either didn’t notice Sugar’s tongue-tied interest or he took it in stride. Tim just shook his head. RJ didn’t notice that, either. Couldn’t blame the guy. He had a lot of heavy shit on his mind.

  RJ fell silent again, until Tim prodded him. “So what’re you gonna do?”

  RJ sighed. “I honestly don’t have a clue right now. We’re talking to lawyers but… You know what?” Shaking his head, RJ looked him in the eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Enough about me. Why don’t you tell me what you did to my sister? Gabby seemed pissed off at you. What happened? You two don’t typically get on each other’s nerves.”

  RJ’s shit-eating grin made Tim grit his teeth, though he was careful not to let his expression give him away. “Why do you think I did something?”

  “Because, besides Brody and me, you’re the only one who gets under her skin.”

  Hmm. “Bullshit. Lot of the guys piss her off.”

  “True. But she was in a weird mood tonight.”

  It was on the tip of Tim’s tongue to tell RJ about the guy in Gabby’s office, but that would be too much like ratting her out. Besides, she’d handled it. And if Tim ever saw the guy hanging around again, he’d punt his ass down Broad Stre
et.

  “Yeah, well, don’t blame me for that. We were talking about the fundraiser for the shelter.”

  “Oh, yeah, forgot that was coming up. I’ll be making my donation anonymously this year. Don’t want anyone to read anything into it. Just want to donate.” RJ paused. “You still trying to get your mom and sister to move here?”

  Tim knew RJ wasn’t deliberately pushing his buttons, but a familiar ache in the pit of his stomach threatened to drag his mood down farther. When that happened, that black mood could ride him for days. And he didn’t have the luxury of wallowing in that pit now. Not with the team doing well and him playing more games to give Shane a rest going into the back half of the season.

  RJ was one of the few people Tim trusted and had told him the backstory years ago, one night at some hockey camp. He couldn’t even remember which one; it seemed like forever ago.

  “No. I’m planning to go home for a couple days for the holiday break, but—” Tim sighed, shaking his head. “I have to talk to my sister first. Don’t want to stir shit up. If my dad’s gonna be home most of the time…”

  He had to force out that last sentence. If he were honest, he’d love to stir shit up with his dad. But he knew it’d upset his mom and sister, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. He didn’t want to put them in the middle of an already impossible situation.

  “Situation sucks all around.”

  Tim nodded at RJ’s soft comment. RJ knew more than anyone but Tim’s family about the issues between Tim and his dad. But even RJ didn’t know everything. Probably never would. Unless Tim’s asshole dad showed up and opened his damn mouth. The last time Tim had talked to his mom, she’d mentioned his dad had threatened to come to a game again. Of course, his mom didn’t present it like that.

  But if his dad did show up… Tim would either have to avoid him or put his fist in his dad’s face. Because if his dad started talking shit…

  He’d been after his mom and sister to pack up and move the hell away from that fucking small town where the neighbors knew everyone’s business but still managed not to see what was going on right in front of their face. Or they saw it but looked away and pretended not to.