by RJ Scott
“Yeah, you should.” He looked surprised. “You need to stop messing up and be there for Ryker and the team. They’ve lost three straight games, and you’ve been a waste of resources down there.”
Temper sparked in his eyes, and then vanished in an instant, and he scrubbed at them hard before leaning his elbows on the glass.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he said after a short pause. “I should’ve been able to stop him.”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda. We, we all do things we regret, but Henry wouldn’t want you messing up the lines because you can’t keep your temper in check. I swear with you and Colorado—this team is angst city.”
He huffed. “I’m nothing like Colorado. He’s just a rocker head case.”
I leaned on the glass next to him. “Yeah, but he’s down on the ice at least.”
“Touché,” Alex murmured, and then there was no more talking as management and extras came into the box, including Robert and Clark from the car dealership. They headed right for me, shook my hand.
“Contracts are in place to be signed,” Robert said.
“Told you as soon as Aarni was gone, we’d sign.” Clark shook his phone. “and I guess you now have no choice but to get rid of him, right. Right?”
They were looking at me and wanting a reply. “There is no place for Aarni with the Raptors. Yes, he’s gone.”
We won the game four to nothing, including a hat trick from Ryker and Colorado with a shutout. I shouldn’t have worried that the news about Aarni was going to shake the team. It seemed they were energized by the news that must have reached them through the grapevine. We’d all been waiting for him to stop this mess from going through the courts, hoping to hell that he wouldn’t defend his position that he wasn’t in the wrong. God knew what kind of deal he’d made to get to this point, but we could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’ll be on the ice next game,” Alex promised me, or himself. It wasn’t obvious which it was.
As soon as I was able, I went down to the press room and waited for Rowen to take his seat for Coach’s Corner, hoping that seeing a friendly face might make any awkward questions easier to take. Jason spoke first before Rowen even got there.
“The Raptors organization is aware of this evening’s news. Coach Carmichael will not be discussing the matter further.”
There was a small ripple of disappointment, but no one said anything out loud. When Rowen took his seat, the questions were innocuous, talking about Alex being a healthy scratch, about Ryker and his strong slapshot, about Colorado being a brick wall.
“Coach, the team is at twenty-five points, and we’re only three weeks from the All-Star break. Is that the count what you wanted for your first season in charge?”
Rowen sought me out then, and our gazes locked. So much passed between us that I wanted to run up to hug him and reassure him that everything was going to be okay.
“I was hoping for a minimum of thirty-five points by midseason, but circumstances being what they are, I see a stronger second half of the season for us. This team is strong. We have some key players and good chances.”
I’d forgotten about that damn point clause. If the Raptors didn’t hit it, then we could invoke the clause to get rid of Rowen and hire another coach.
Emotionally, that thought killed me. From a business standpoint, management and the owners would’ve been stupid to take him away from a team that showed flashes of brilliance like tonight. The Raptors needed a chance, and with Aarni gone, maybe, just maybe, with positivity and hard work this rebuild could become a miracle.
I waited for him in his office, and as soon as he shut the door behind us, he walked straight into my arms, and we hugged.
“Congratulations on the win, Coach.”
“Did you see Ryker? And Colorado? So much potential.”
“I spoke to Alex. He knows he’s fucked up.”
“I hoped you might talk to him. That’s why I sent him up to the rich boy box.”
He kissed me then and cradled my face.
“I love you,” he whispered against my lips, and I smiled.
“I love you back.”
Epilogue
Rowen
Fourteen seconds left, and we were down by two. As the clock ran out, I gave myself the rare opportunity to take a moment and just be pissed off right there at the bench.
“We’ll get them next time,” Terri said as the team shuffled off the ice, heads down, wallowing in another loss. “The All-Star break will do us all good. You going anywhere?”
I looked down at my eternally perky associate coach as we trundled down the corridor behind the team. How did I answer that exactly? We had failed to reach that thirty-five point caveat I’d slapped into the contract, when I’d been so damn cocksure of my abilities.
“We’ll see,” I replied, moving past equipment managers and press, eager to get to home.
A text came in from Mark as I was slamming around inside my office. I ignored it, unable and unwilling to drag him into my foul mood. Without a glance back, I was out the door, stalking to my car and driving home with a thundercloud over my head. As soon as I got to my place, I stripped down to my underwear, grabbed a six-pack of Dr Pepper from the fridge, and threw my sorry ass onto the couch to watch movies, sulk, and try to come up with a plan B now that plan A had spiraled out of the sky in flames and crash-landed with a massive explosion, eradicating my future plans and my ego. BOOM.
I’d not been home fifteen minutes when the front door swung open and in strolled Mark, dressed in cool desert colors, with a damn shopping bag dangling off his arm.
“Why did I give you a key?” I asked, before cranking up the volume on the movie. He strolled over, sat down, and wrenched the remote from my hand.
“Because you love me,” he countered, turning the volume down so he could be heard. “Is that a talking Gila monster?”
I blinked at him. “It’s Smaug. Last great dragon to exist in Middle Earth? Invaded the dwarf kingdom of Erebor?” He shrugged. I shook my head. “How are we even a couple?”
“Oh, it’s a dragon. I don’t do dragon movies. Too unrealistic.” He hefted his bright red shopping bag up to his lap and leveled inquisitive brown eyes at me. “I texted you. Did you not get it or did you have your phone off?”
“I got it. I just didn’t read it.”
“Mm, okay, I see. So we’re pouting.” He tried to turn the movie off, but a small skirmish over the remote broke out, which I won.
“No, I’m not pouting. Children pout. I’m ruminating.” I crossed my arms over my chest, hiding the remote neatly up by my armpit.
“Ruminating. Of course, so you’re now a goat. What exactly is it you’re ruminating? And why does that short man have such big, hairy feet? Oh, I know him from Sherlock. I could spend hours staring at Benedict Cumberbatch.”
“Are we here to talk about your thing for British men, or are we here to talk about me?”
“You’re extremely petulant tonight. It was only a loss, Rowen. We’re all prepared to see lots of losses for the next few years before the rebuild work is done and we’re a contender.”
“I didn’t make my self-imposed point goal,” I reminded him as if he didn’t know all of this. He nodded in silence. “I’m disappointed in myself. I feel as if I—”
“I know what you’re going to say. You let the team down, you let the fans down, you let the press down, you let Henry down, you let the people who cook the hot dogs and sell the beer at the games down, you let the stray cats who roam the trash cans outside the arena down, you let the—”
“Okay, I think you’ve about covered everything.” I so wanted to huff and sulk, but as I’d pointed out to my boyfriend, grown men didn’t sulk or pout. We just acted like assholes. My sigh was deep and heartfelt. He gave me that damn ”just-so-you-know-I’m-right” smirk that I loved/hated in equal measure. “I should have answered your text. I thought if I had a night alone to contemplate and work out my discontent, I�
��d be in a better place tomorrow when I met with you and the other heirs to end my tenure here.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I took care of all that during the game.” He rummaged around in his shopping bag as I stared at him in confusion. “You know it gets kind of boring up there in the rich-boy box as you like to call it.”
“Am I off the mark?” I mean, it was a rich-boy box, and he was a princeling.
“No, not really. Anyway, we were losing, and I was bored, so I broached the subject with the family, and we decided that we’d need more time to see if you could reach your full potential. So we scribbled out this silly little waiver and signed it, which we will present to the stockholders and our legal team.” He handed me a napkin that had a small smear of mustard on the corner. I held it under my nose, then drew back when the words were blurry. “You really should get your eyes examined. I think you’d be sexy as fuck in reading glasses.”
“Hush now. I’m reading.” I held the napkin out at arm’s length and skimmed over the gibberish and scrawls. Then I looked at Mark. He was quite smug. “This is indecipherable.”
“Well, we’ll get it typed up and neat, all legal-like before we send it to your agent, but basically it says that we feel more time is required to implement your new program and that letting you go now would only set us back.”
“And how long do you think you’ll need to see if I can bring this bunch of junkyard dogs to heel?”
“At least four years,” he replied primly, his lips twitching and his eyes alight with mirth. “Unless you’re set on leaving now, which would sadden us all greatly.”
I placed the napkin beside me on the sofa and craned around to look right at him. He was the prettiest man I had ever met. Saltiest too. Tastiest as well.
“Did you push for this extension because we’re lovers? If so, I’m not going to accept it.”
His eyes rolled so hard I feared they might tumble out of his head. “Rowen, honestly, do you think I don’t know you well enough by now to know better than to try something like that?”
“I had to ask.” I did have my pride. I’d not be kept around simply because one of the owners loved to suck my dick.
“Of course you did. And the answer is no, we are not making this offer of an extension because you and I are in love. We’re making this offer because we have faith in you, your vision for this team, and the new system that you’re implementing. Change takes time. We know that, and we wish to give you all the time you need to get this team turned around. So you can ruminate on that as well tonight and let us know in the morning. Now, onto the other goodies.”
He stood, smiled, and began taking off his clothes, item by item, until he was gloriously naked. My gaze roamed over all that sweet, bare skin. He bent over and tugged two white ten-gallon hats from his big red shopping bag. One he plunked on my head, the other he placed artfully on his. He took a moment to get the hat at just the right jaunty angle.
“As you can see, we’re now the law in this here town.” He dropped to one knee, then swung a leg over my lap, his pert ass resting on my thighs, his mouth a mere inch from mine. “You’re the sheriff, obviously, because you have a spiffy star on your hatband. I’m the new deputy, and I have no idea how to deputy a hockey team, but you’re madly in love with me and will do your best to show me the ins and outs of deputy work.” My hands roamed along his ribs, then settled on his lower back, a smile toying on my lips. He rocked up and back, tempting and teasing, his breath fanning my face. “I think the first thing you need to show me, Sheriff Carmichael, is how to handle that big, fat gun of yours.”
“The first thing I need to show you is how much I love you.” I leaned up just a bit to capture his mouth. He settled against me, chest to chest, and kissed me back. “Good thing I’ve got four more years. I think it might take me that long to show you properly.”
His lips moved over my face, soft little kisses raining down on my mouth and chin and nose, making me wriggle and twitch.
“Then we’d better get started. Show me how much you love me, Sheriff.”
“Yippee-Ki-Yay.”
The End
Next for the Raptors
Across the Pond (Raptors 2) – November 2019
The greatest journey isn’t from England to the States, it’s the one that two men take on the way to find each other.
Sebastian Brown is on a mission to rescue the Arizona Raptors and a vow he made to a friend in college. Either that or he’s on vacation. He’s not entirely sure that he’s made up his mind yet. Either way, traveling from England, to the arid desert of Arizona isn’t exactly a picnic, particularly with the doubts and worries he takes with him. He’s turned even the worst of companies around, but faced with the challenge of improving the reputation of a hockey team that everyone seems to hate, he knows his work is cut out for him.
Focus is key, but that is easier said than done when Seb is sent into a tailspin by the intriguing Alejandro. Seb’s entire marketing plan hinges on making Alex a poster boy for equality and fair play. But with Alex’s utter dedication to the game, and his dark secretive eyes, the gorgeous Alex is stubborn, opinionated, doesn’t want any part of being the team focus, and worst of all, doesn't appear to like Seb at all. It takes everything that Seb has to keep his hands off of Alex, but things get out of hand and Seb’s life might never be the same again.
Alejandro Garcia has had to work hard to get where he’s at. Born to Mexican immigrants, his siblings and himself have never had it easy in this new country their parents dreamed of calling home. A native son of Arizona, Alex has always been the odd man out on the ice but he’s not going to let a stupid thing like his heritage get in the way of his dreams. He’s now a Raptor and he plans to put all that training and collegiate hockey experience to good use. Working hard comes naturally to him. It’s something his parents have instilled in him from the time he was a toddler. Being one of a handful of Latino hockey players makes him strive for success with even more determination. His first pro season has had some ups but a lot more downs, but Alex is one stubborn young man and failure is not an option.
As the Raptors struggle to rebuild not only their team but their core values, Alex finds himself drawn to one of the owner’s friends, a tall, lanky Brit with the face of an angel and an accent and attitude that bewitches and befuddles him. Sebastian is everything he thought he would never be attracted to but he can’t push the sexy, older, fun-loving man out of his thoughts. If ever there were a man he would not be able to take home to his parents - not that he can bring a man home since he is deeply closeted - it’s Sebastian, but desire knows no socioeconomic, age, or international borders. The heart wants what the heart wants and Alejandro’s wants Sebastian.
Hockey from Scott & Locey
Harrisburg Railers
Changing Lines (Book #1) | First Season (Book #2) | Deep Edge (Book #3) | Poke Check (Book #4) | Last Defense (Book #5) | Goal Line (Book #6) | Neutral Zone - A Christmas Novella (Book #7) | Hat Trick - A Stan/Erik Novella (Book #8) | Save the Date - A Wedding Novella (Book 9) |
Owatonna U
Ryker (Book #1) | Scott (Book #2) | Benoit (Book #3) |
Arizona Raptors
Coast To Coast | Across The Pond (24 November)
Authors Note
If you enjoyed Coast to Coast…
…we would be incredibly grateful if you could leave a review somewhere on a retailers site, or Goodreads, or on your personal social media platforms.
Reviews are the reason someone else might pick up this book – or start at the beginning of the series.
Thank you.
Hugs and kisses,
RJ & V.L. xx
MM Hockey Romance
For up to date news and information on the Railers series, the next Railers book, a new series based on the Arizona Raptors, free short reads from your favorite characters, and lots of other hockey stuff, go here:
www.mmhockeyromance.com
Also by V.L. Locey
Lost In Indigo<
br />
Mathieu Beresford was so close to seeing his dream come true.
The thirty-eight-year-old captain of the Buffalo Surge had led his team to the final round of the playoffs with his aggressive defensive play and leadership. During the first game of the championship series, he was taken down, and his leg snapped upon impact with the boards. From his hospital bed, Mathieu watched his team go on to win it all.
Adrift in anger, resentment, and the new direction of his life, he returns to his mansion along the St. Lawrence River. Alone and sulking, Mathieu is not prepared for Indigo Neu to enter his life. The genderflux twenty-year-old botany major signs on to play nursemaid, confidant, and groundskeeper over the summer and slowly leads Mathieu out of his confusion––one tender smile and touch at a time.
The deeper Mathieu falls, the more he wonders if being lost might not be so bad after all.
The Colors of Love Series
The Point Shot series – MM Hockey Romance
Now, you can have the books that introduced Victor Kalinski to the world in one reasonably priced boxed set! With over 350 Goodreads reviews and ratings combined, the romance of Vic Kalinski and Dan Arou is one that once read, will never be forgotten. In this three-book set, you’ll get to experience all the passion, sarcasm, hockey action, and romance that reviewers have called “Beautifully Written”, “Surprisingly Heartfelt”, and “Hot! Hot! Hot!”
“The writing in this is snappy and awesome, the story moves at a great pace and oh it’s HOT AS EVER-LOVING HELL. There’s romance that never veers into a too-sappy place, it’s FUNNY and full of great lines right and left, and so engaging that I couldn’t stop reading it. The ending is satisfying, with our characters not becoming perfect people but becoming better together than they are apart, and that’s just about as romantic as it gets.” Avon Gale – Author of the Scoring Chances series.