Hard Lines & Goal Lines (Fast Ice Book 2)

by Stephanie Julian

  Ugh.

  Damn it. She wasn’t ready to see him yet. Not after that make-out session last night where she’d basically thrown herself at him and tried to devour him.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d done it. And she knew if given another chance…she’d do the same damn thing again.

  Even now, when she should be concentrating on work, all she was thinking about was how much farther she wanted to go with him. She’d had dreams all night about being naked and sweaty and under that man.

  She was afraid if she had to face him now, everyone would be able to see exactly what she was thinking.

  But you also have a job to do and if you avoid hockey players all day, you can’t do your job.

  Practical advice. Gabby prided herself on being a practical person. Sometimes, too much so. Right now, she hated it. Last night had not been practical. But it had been the most fun she’d had in a very long time.

  Had she ever had fun with Rich? Honestly, she couldn’t say she had. Kissing Rich had been okay. Sex with Rich had never been amazing, not even from the first.

  Kissing Tim had left her panties soaked through. Thinking about last night made her body respond and she hadn’t thought to bring an extra pair of underwear with her today. Who the hell would’ve thought she’d need to bring an extra pair of panties to work?

  “Uh, hey, Gabrielle. You okay?”

  Snapping out of her thoughts, Gabby looked up to find Riley Hatch frowning at her from the other end of the hall.

  Damn. Busted.

  “I’m fine. Just need to talk to RJ.” She smiled at the burly defenseman. “Would you mind telling him I need to see him in my office?”

  “Yeah, sure. No problem. I need a few minutes with you myself. Later’s fine. Just need to talk to you about that fundraiser.”

  Riley’s fiancée worked for one of the largest hospitals in Philly and she and Riley were doing some charity work for the hospital’s Parkinson’s research study. Something about patients staying active to help with the deterioration of the body from the disease. Most of the guys had pet projects. This was Riley’s.

  “Of course.” She did a quick mental peek at her calendar. “Can we meet sometime tomorrow?”

  It was Wednesday and the team had home games this Friday and Sunday, so they had some downtime before then. Next week, they had three games in Columbus, Chicago, and Minnesota. They’d leave Monday and return Sunday.

  Giving her a little breathing room.

  Coward.

  Nah. Just cautious.

  Yeah, look where cautious got you the last time.

  Yes, Dating Rich had seemed like the cautious move at first.

  “Yeah, sounds good. You mind if Aly joins us? Could we do it around four? She can be here by then.”

  “Of course. That’s perfect. I’ll see you then.”

  With a wave, Riley turned back toward the locker room, presumably to tell her brother she wanted to see him. Which meant she could head back to her office. So why was she still standing here?

  She answered her own question a second later when Tim came around the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see her.

  “Hey, Gabby, you got a minute?”

  Be careful what you wish for.

  Her lips curved into an immediate smile, unforced and totally spontaneously. Just at the sight of him. Her body responded with a surge of heat and—

  Stop. Just stop.

  Yes, she had a minute for him. Hell, she could have lots of minutes for him. Preferably all of them spent alone in her apartment. Forcing those thoughts out of her mind proved harder than she expected.

  “Sure. Do you want to walk back to my office with me?”

  His brows rose in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to want to be alone with him. Then he nodded and caught up to her. As they walked back toward the office wing of the arena, she had to force herself not to stare up at him and drool. Drooling would definitely be bad. And embarrassing.

  “What can I help you with?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she glanced up to see his expression, which was much more broody than normal.

  “Tim? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  He sighed, short and hard. “My sister and mom may be coming for a visit over the holidays. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  That didn’t sound bad, but the careful way he phrased his words made her pause and consider her next question carefully. Because obviously something had happened between last night when he’d told her about his mom’s issues with his dad and today.

  “Okay.”

  It was her turn to pause. With any other player, she wouldn’t have pushed, wouldn’t have pried. But this was Tim and, since last night, right or wrong, she felt she could ask her next question.

  Stopping in the middle of the empty hallway, she put her hand on his forearm, ensuring he stopped as well. “Did something happen? Are they okay? What do you need from me?”

  His expression barely changed, but it was enough to know she’d said the right thing.

  Nodding, his gaze snagged on hers. “Yeah, something happened.” A noise from behind them drew his attention away for a second and he frowned. “Can we talk somewhere less public?”

  “Of course.”

  Since she didn’t want to make him walk all the way back to her office on the second floor, she led him to one of the interview rooms on this floor. There’d been no press requests so the rooms were empty.

  As soon as she had the door shut behind them, she leaned back against it and watched him pace. In the small room, he reminded her of a caged lion. Strongly muscled. Tightly leashed power.

  When he finally stopped, he grabbed the back of one of the chairs at the small table and let his gaze lock with hers.

  When he didn’t say anything, she prompted him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Sighing, he shook his head, but she didn’t think he was saying no to her question. So she waited.

  “My sister called,” he finally said, his words measured. “Told me our dad found the money I send my mom and he went ballistic.”

  A chill raised goosebumps all over her body. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No. My dad is a first-rate prick, a total asshole, but he’s never been physically abusive. And he usually doesn’t yell at them. He only ever used to yell at me.”

  She had so many questions but now wasn’t the time. Instead, she asked, “Are you worried he’s going to get physical with them?”

  More head shaking. “I don’t know. I just…don’t know. Fuck. The only reason I haven’t pushed harder for my mom to leave him is because he’s never hit them. My dad was never warm and cuddly, and he had a mean temper, but he never took it out on them. Now…”

  He shook his head, his knuckles white as he clenched the chair back. She wanted to lay her hands over his and interlace their fingers, try to soothe just a little bit of his anger.

  “Do you know if something happened to push him over the edge?”

  “Sunny didn’t say. He can get mean if he’s been drinking, but that doesn’t happen much since I left.” He took another deep breath and she could tell he was fighting the urge to rip the chair apart. He was strong enough to do it. She had no doubt. And yet, she wasn’t the least bit worried about her safety. “My mom always keeps a stash hidden somewhere in the house. A can in the back of the cabinet. Somewhere my dad wouldn’t think to look. Sunny didn’t say how he found it, just that he had.”

  “Is there a reason she hides it?”

  He nodded, once, just as a jerk of his head.

  “A few times, before Sunny came along, he drank the grocery money. I can remember my mom crying in the kitchen, trying to figure out what she was going to feed me. I know we went to the church food kitchen a few times. I know when he found out about that, he never did it again. My mom grew up dirt poor and she knew how to stretch a dollar. I think she started putting money aside when her boss at the diner where she’d t
aken a second job started paying her partly in cash. She worked there part-time to pay for my hockey equipment. It was money my dad couldn’t track through her pay stubs. She handed those over to him every Friday. My mom paid the bills, but my dad kept track of everything. If the checkbook didn’t balance at the end of the month because she’d bought us a slushie, he’d bitch and moan about it for days.”

  Gabby couldn’t imagine growing up in that environment. Someone looking over your shoulder every day, waiting for you to fuck up. She’d always known how lucky she was to have her parents; even as a teenager, when she’d probably been at her worst, she’d still loved them.

  “Why does she stay?”

  She wanted to take the words back as soon as they’d left her mouth. It almost sounded like she was accusing his mom of something. But she couldn’t understand why a woman would tie herself to the kind of man Tim was describing.

  Why did you stay with Rich even after you knew he wasn’t good for you?

  Good question.

  Tim was silent for a few seconds, then, surprisingly, he answered.

  “At first, I thought it was for Sunny and me. When I got older, I realized it just wasn’t that cut-and-dried.”

  “Nothing ever is.”

  She wasn’t talking only about his parents now, and he knew it. She saw his eyes narrow and darken.

  He shook his head again. “No, it isn’t. And I can’t save her. I can’t fly out there and force her to leave like some superhero in a movie. She has to want to leave.”

  “Do you think she might now?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. I hope. I just…needed to tell someone.” He shook his head. “No. I needed to tell you.”

  That lump that’d been building deep in her chest grew at least two sizes and forced its way into her throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “I’ll do whatever you need.” Luckily, her voice sounded steady. “I can talk to my dad, if you want. Warn him that you may need to take a personal leave. He won’t ask too many questions if I say something.”

  He stood there and breathed for a few, long seconds, just looking at her. Her arms ached with the effort to keep from reaching for him. Last night had broken open a dam of feelings and right now, they all threatened to swamp her.

  “I don’t know. My mom won’t want anyone to know her business. If she decides to come visit and someone looks at her the wrong way, she’ll leave.”

  “Sounds like your mom’s been dealing with this for a long time.”

  Actually, it sounded like his mom had gotten really good at hiding whatever was going on in their home and would be embarrassed if anyone found out her husband was a controlling asshole. Mentally, she shook her head at the thought, knowing it wouldn’t help anyone for her to think like that.

  “Yeah. And usually she had everything under control.”

  But this time, he was freaked out.

  “Look, I know you’re scheduled to start Sunday. Why don’t you just give a heads-up to Coach about a possible unplanned visit from your mom and sister? I know you don’t want to go into specifics, so let me help—”

  “No. Thank you…but no. I’ll handle it.” His lips quirked up at the corners. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”

  Her brows drew down. “What do you mean?”

  “You do know the first words out of your mouth are usually ‘what do you need.’”

  She shrugged. “Hazard of the job. Doesn’t mean they’re not sincere.”

  “I know that. I wasn’t—” He sighed and shook his head. “You misunderstood. Never mind.”

  “What did I misunderstand?”

  The mood shifted between one breath and the next, and the attraction that was always on simmer around him dialed up to a boil. She had no idea how he did it. Whether it was the way he looked at her or the way he leaned down just the slightest bit closer to talk to her, she didn’t know.

  All she did know was that she’d gone from wanting to lend a helping hand to a coworker to needing to make something better for this man. Wanting to do whatever he needed to lighten his burden. That kiss last night must’ve shaken something loose in her brain.

  “I didn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do. You’re damn good at your job.”

  “I’m not offering because it’s my job.”

  He paused, his attention honed to a laser focus. “We’re heading into dangerous territory here. You know that, right?”

  She did, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it out loud. If she did, that made it real. Here, alone, just the two of them, she could pretend they weren’t crossing any lines. Even though she knew they were.

  She said the first words that came into her head. “I’m not sure I care.”

  His gaze narrowed, eyes glittering. “Dangerous words to say to me right now. Because I’m really not sure I have the willpower to deny you anything right now.”

  She could practically taste him on her lips, the kisses they’d shared last night a reminder that taunted her. He must have felt the same way because his jaw clenched, and she swore he leaned the tiniest bit closer before he took a step back and shook his head.

  “This isn’t the place for this conversation.”

  He was right. She knew he was right. She also was fast passing the point of caring.

  “Come out with me tomorrow.”

  His low growl hit somewhere deep inside, making her core clench and heat spill through her blood.

  She shook her head. “You know I don’t date players. It wouldn’t look right.”

  Even though there was no explicit rule against coworkers dating. She should know. She’d written the last round of edits to the HR policy and procedures manual herself.

  “Then come over to my place and I’ll make dinner.”

  God, yes. She wanted that so badly. She also knew it was the absolute wrong thing to do.

  “We can talk about the fundraiser,” he continued before she could respond. “If anyone asks, that’s what we’ll tell them.”

  You’re fooling yourself. This is a date and you know it.

  Right this second, she didn’t give a good goddamn. She only knew she wanted to say yes.

  “Gabby—”

  “Okay.”

  Triumph. She saw it in his eyes.

  Her competitive nature rose to meet it. She’d been raised by a professional athlete with two professional athletes for brothers. She knew when she was being challenged. She wondered if he’d forgotten that. She knew how to hold her own with alpha males.

  “Just remember, Timothy Stanton. I’m no pushover.”

  His smile made a comeback and her traitorous knees nearly went weak. “This wouldn’t be as much fun if you were.”

  “So fighting with me is fun?”

  “I didn’t realize we were fighting. And Gabby, anything I do with you is fun.”

  Six

  “Goddammit. Fuck. Fuck. And double damn fuck.”

  Gabby had made sure she’d closed her office door Thursday morning before going off on her mini-tirade. It was Thursday morning and she wanted to kick her damn trashcan across her room.

  She was fairly decent with a soccer ball. Not as good as she was with a hockey stick, but she swore that was genetics. Right now, though, she was afraid if she took aim at the unsuspecting metal bin, she might launch it through the wall between her office and the head ticket rep’s office next door.

  An LA television station reporter had called with a list of questions for a story they planned to run before the Colonials home game against LA in two weeks, the first against his old team since RJ had been traded here. About RJ and the accusations. The reporter had prefaced his request by saying due to “new information,” they had follow-up questions.

  Gabby felt blindsided. She hadn’t heard of any new information. Hell, she’d thought things had been calming down. RJ wasn’t guilty. She knew that as sure as she knew her name and social security number. With a bone-deep surety. R
J would not, under any circumstances, do what he’d been accused of. Hell, most of the guys on his former team had vouched for him. Off the record, a few of the cops involved had said this would all go away.

  But until it did, RJ was going to be subjected to this continuing crap.

  “Shit.”

  She did kick the can then, literally. Not enough to send it flying but enough that it bounced off her desk and sent the few pieces of paper in there spilling out on the floor.

  “Fuck.”

  She needed to talk to RJ. The team would be in for a late morning skate and to watch tapes in prep for tomorrow night’s game. RJ would be here then.

  She needed him here now, which meant she was going to have to call him in. And upset his entire day.

  “Hey, Gabs, you got a min— Fuck, what’s wrong?”

  She felt a second’s worth of remorse for the shit she was about to unload on her baby brother and, for a split second, thought she just might be able to contain it.

  But as her brother’s eyes widened, she realized if she didn’t say something soon, her head would explode.

  “Ooh, I fucking hate stupid fucking reporters.” She pointed at his chest and stalked close so she could stab at him with her right index finger. “And that statement does not include your girlfriend so don’t even start with me.”

  Prepared for a patented smart-ass reply from Brody, she took a breath and opened her mouth, ready to tell him to keep his mouth shut, when he closed the door behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “What happened? Should I go get RJ and Dad? Do you need me to do something?”

  It was such a measured response, she paused, her brain trying to compute.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

  Brody rolled his eyes and now he looked much more like the pain-in-the-ass she knew and loved.

  “Funny. But seriously, Gabs, you look ready to stroke out. What’s going on?”

  Shaking her head, she sighed and turned to sink into her desk chair. “I just got a call from a TV station that wanted to ask questions about the ‘new information’ in RJ’s case. The problem is, I haven’t heard of any new information so I have no idea what we’re walking into.”