Fighting For More

by Susan Scott Shelley

  Footsteps echoed from the hall. She rolled her shoulders, put her game face on, and turned to face the open door.

  Leo stopped in the doorway and took up most of the space. He had to be at least six-foot-four, with wide shoulders and strong muscles showcased by a rumpled navy sweater and dark jeans.

  Shadows darkened his gray eyes and his dark hair was mussed. His chiseled face creased in the semblance of a smile. "Kelsey?"

  "That's me." Mouth dry, she licked her lips as the nerves in her stomach morphed from needles into butterflies. Leo, up close and in person, packed a powerful punch. Tall, dark, and sexy. Effortlessly sexy, even though he looked like he'd slept in his clothes.

  Holding his gaze, she extended her hand. His enveloped hers, large, strong, and warm. The butterflies in her stomach melted into liquid heat. She cleared her throat and stepped back and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. "Please have a seat."

  He set down a small travel bag and a plastic bag from a sporting goods store and cast a lingering glance at her one-cup coffee maker on the file cabinet by her window.

  Good manners dictated the offer of the beverage. "Would you like some coffee?"

  "I'd kill for some." He rubbed his hands over his face. "It's cool if I make a cup?"

  "Help yourself. The pods, sugar, stirrers are right there and I have half-and-half in the mini-fridge." She crossed the room and snagged the small carton. "Let me guess, you're not a morning person."

  He snorted and set one of the pods in the brewer. "I would be, if I'd gotten any sleep."

  Frowning, she crossed her arms. No one had ever complained about the team's preferred hotel before. "Was there a problem with your hotel room?"

  "I haven't been there yet." He rolled his shoulders. When he turned to face her, he mirrored her stance, his expression wary. "What time was my flight yesterday?"

  "Seven o'clock." She frowned again. "Why?"

  "Seven on the east coast is four o'clock on the west coast. I didn't think to reconfirm the flight information until I got to the airport." The gray in his gaze intensified as he studied her face. Under the fluorescent lights, the shadows and lines on his face deepened, highlighting his exhaustion.

  "Oh, shit." The whispered word slipped out as guilt doused her like a bucket of cold water. An executive of a sports team that routinely travels to different time zones should find it second nature to think in terms of what time will it be on the West Coast when it's a certain time on the East Coast? She'd done enough travel to be well-aware that airline tickets are issued showing the departure time and the landing time in the appropriate time zones of the applicable airport. Berating herself for screwing up, blaming the stress of having the guy who injured her brother now joining the team for her brain freeze regarding the departure time, she moved closer and set the carton next to the coffee maker. "You missed your flight. I'm sorry."

  He gave a single nod and then turned back to fixing his coffee. "I called the hotel to let them know and they said they'd hold the room. I'm hoping by the time I'm through here today, the rest of my luggage and my gear will have arrived there. It's currently in Detroit."

  "You came here right from the airport?" She winced as another shard of guilt sliced deep. He had to be so tired.

  "After I realized my luggage wasn't going to show up, I had the driver stop for me to pick up some clothes for practice." He jerked his head toward the plastic bag. "I'm going to have to borrow some gear."

  "Our equipment staff will get you settled. They're always ready for anything. We'll finish up here so you can get down to Coach LeClair and then sort things out with the equipment staff and trainers." She rounded the desk and picked up the folder. "This is basically a welcome to Buffalo packet. It covers everything from emergency contacts and area hospitals to how to switch your driver's license should you decide to officially relocate here. Also, because you were traded at the deadline, you'll be reimbursed for single-room hotel accommodations for the remainder of your playing season. Just make sure I get a copy of the receipt."

  "Will do."

  "I know most players traded late in the season opt to spend the remainder living at a hotel, and not deal with the hassle of searching for an apartment or house until the off-season, but it also discusses how we handle moving companies and expenses."

  "I'm not sure I'll be needing that. It doesn't make sense to move everything here only to have to send it someplace else in a few months."

  Her fingers tightened on the folder. The thought of him leaving so soon bothered her more than she liked. "Not a problem. It's fine to wait until you see if the team offers you another contract. I'm sure they will. Our GM is very excited about you."

  He shrugged. "At this point in my career, having only one guy happy that I'm here isn't really enough. But we'll see."

  "I'm sure he's not the only one." At his look of disbelief, she tamped down the urge to set her hand on top of his and soothe him. "You're also entitled to a rental car, paid for by the team. I'm assuming you need one."

  "Yeah. My old teammate is shipping mine to me, but it's going to take at least a week. The guys are on a road trip." He looked a little lost, like a fish out of water. She couldn't imagine being without everything familiar.

  "Stop by after you're finished with practice today, and I'll drive you to the rental car place and get you squared away."

  His brows rose. "That's nice of you."

  "It's my job." Her job didn't usually extend to that extra courtesy, especially since she was transitioning more into her on-camera role for the team and away from player services, but she couldn't pass off Leo to someone else, not after how she'd screwed up the flight information. The pull she'd felt intensified and her heart thudded harder, like she was on the verge of something big and important.

  His lips curved in a wry smile. "Maybe you should make sure there's no bomb under the driver's seat or cut brake lines. The Bedlam fans were pretty detailed in their...displeasure about my arrival."

  Some of those comments had been downright scary. Kelsey understood being passionate about a team and its players, but some fans went too far. As much as she was upset about Dylan's concussion, she wouldn't wish Leo physical harm. The team had a plan in place to sway the fans, and like it or not, they wanted her at the helm. She pushed the folder across her desk. "In addition to working in player services, I'm also a part of the fan outreach team. I do videos on the Bedlam site and in the arena to bring the players closer to the fans. With all of the baggage of what happened with Dylan, my boss wants you and me to do a series of media events."

  "Throwing me to the wolves? I'll take that on." His gaze drifted to the framed photo on her desk of Dylan, Rod, and her. Every time she looked at it, she smiled. That perfect summer day when Rod had signed his contract to join the Bedlam, was one of her favorite memories. "I imagine you're pretty upset with me too."

  "I'll be honest, on a personal level, I can't look at you and not think that you're the guy who gave him a concussion." She winced at the way the corners of his eyes and mouth turned down and tried to soften her words with a smile. "I know the hit wasn't a cheap shot, but he's still my brother and I hate that he's hurt. But on a professional level, I have no problem with you."

  "Well, that's honest." He frowned into his coffee. When he looked up, his eyes had clouded over. "He and I exchanged texts after that game, but I haven't been able to find out much about his recovery. How is he?"

  The fact that he asked meant a lot. She'd known about the text, but not about the content, other than it had contained an apology. Kelsey smiled wider. "He's improving every day. Thank goodness. He's like every other hockey player out there, fighting hard to get back on the ice as soon as he can."

  Light came back into Leo's eyes. "I'm glad."

  He glanced at the clock on the far wall. "According to the team schedule you emailed to me, practice is supposed to begin soon. It wouldn't look good to be late on my first day."

  "I'll walk you down to Coach L
eClair's office." She stood and waited while he stuffed the folder into his travel bag, then held out one of her business cards. "If I can help with anything, let me know."

  "Personally or professionally?" He accepted the card. Their fingers brushed and the contact sparked her nerve endings like an electric shock. Leo's gaze intensified like he'd felt it too.

  She pulled her hand to her side. Damn static electricity. "Shall we go?"

  As they walked, she pointed out the different offices, keeping a careful distance between them. But that three feet of space didn't diminish his presence or how her skin buzzed as though sensitized to his nearness.

  Relief swept through her when they reached the coach's office. The older man, a good friend of her dad, welcomed Leo in. After one last look, Leo disappeared into the office and the door closed behind him.

  Kelsey blew out a breath and walked back to the safety of her office. Leo was sexy with smoldering energy. Nothing could have prepared her for him.

  Even so, nothing could happen between them. She didn't date hockey players. And she wouldn't date the one who'd knocked her brother down. Not even if he was so sexy he made her toes curl.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LEO FOLLOWED COACH LeClair into the locker room, his muscles tightening like he was entering enemy territory and needed to be ready to fight.

  Slowly, conversations around him ceased as his new teammates realized his presence. Across the room, Rod Fraser met his gaze with zero expression.

  He didn't relish that introduction.

  Coach raised his voice. "Men, with Leo here, we're shoring up two weaknesses. He can score and he can fight. We have one goal above everything else, and that's to bring home the Cup. Leo will help us make that happen."

  A few of the guys closest to Leo shook his hand. All of the rest murmured greetings, but no one looked thrilled to have him there. He couldn't blame them too much. Dylan was their leading scorer, a big part of their power play and penalty-killing units, and a leader in every way on and off the ice. His absence would be felt on every level.

  Leo made sure to make eye contact with every man in the room, almost like wild animals sizing each other up, showing them that he was ready for whatever came his way.

  Then his gaze landed on Vince Forsberg. The defenseman raised his hand in a wave and then pointed to the locker beside his. "Leo, you're right here."

  Relief eased through his body. He headed toward his fellow native Philadelphian. They had grown up playing on the some of the same youth hockey teams, and worked together on the league's Inclusion Initiative board. Vince had also supplied Dylan's phone number after that horrible game.

  Vince smiled, not a full-on grin, but definitely friendly. "Hey, man. How's it going? How's your brother?"

  Leo accepted the combination half-hug and half-handshake. Vince had been at the Pride parade, had called for an ambulance while Leo supported Ryan's head and tried to stop the bleeding, and in the months since, had been a source of support throughout Ryan's recovery. "Ryan's good. Thanks."

  "Glad to hear it. It's good to have you here."

  "Yeah?" Leo surveyed his locker. The equipment staff had hooked him up with all the gear he needed. "I just want to get on the ice."

  Things would be better once he was on the smooth surface. No matter where the rink was, in a way, it was home.

  He dressed and taped his stick, listening to Vince give him the rundown on the best places to eat in the city. Having a friend with him, one who was an alternate captain for the team, would go a long way toward making the transition easier.

  He hoped.

  Once in the rink, the smell of the ice and the sound of sticks hitting pucks soothed him. They ran through some skating drills and his tension eased with the familiar routine. Then Coach paired him with Jon Kreider and Anton Celek for a scrimmage. Taking Dylan's place on the top line with his line mates felt odd, too much of a reminder of why he was there and what had happened to Dylan. He felt like he was skating under a spotlight with a target on his back.

  He lined up for the face off against Slater Knox, a fourth line center who nearly matched him in size. Ignoring Slater's sneer, he focused on the puck drop, and won the face off, knocking it in Celek's direction. Celek chased the puck along the boards and into the corner. Leo rushed in to help. Celek kicked the puck free of a tangle of skates and onto his stick. Leo turned and shot the puck to Kreider, in scoring position in front of the net.

  In the corner of his vision, a black jersey flew at him. Leo braced and turned. Slater slammed into him, sending him backward and into the boards. The glass rattled and shook. He cursed as the air left his lungs and pain bloomed in his shoulder.

  Gulping air, he pushed away from the boards. Anger fired through his muscles. That check was too hard for a typical practice. The way the punk's skates had left the ice, he'd definitely get called for a penalty in a game. Fists raised, Leo advanced on a smirking Slater. "What the hell?"

  Slater's gloves met his, pushing hard, and aiming for Leo's chest. "Too hard for you? Thought you were tough."

  Leo glared at the rookie. "Cheap shots are for cowards or assholes."

  "You'd know about that, taking out Dylan." Righteous indignation shined on the redhead's baby face.

  "That wasn't a cheap shot and you know it." Damn, he felt old staring down the twenty-one-year-old. "Do you know how many fights I've been in over the last fifteen seasons, rook? Or how many times I've led my team in penalty minutes? Trust me, you don't want to mess with me."

  Coach LeClair pushed in between them and placed a hand over each of their chests, moving them further apart. "Enough. You're on the same team now."

  Leo's gaze roamed from Slater to the rest of his new teammates. If a fight broke out, would any of them be on his side?

  Vince skated to his side and touched his shoulder. "Come on, man."

  Then Celek followed and grabbed Slater's arm. "Let's go, Knoxie. That's not how we play up here."

  With the alternate captains restoring order, the rest of the team returned to their positions for the next face off.

  For the remainder of practice, Leo kept his eyes peeled and his guard up. It was fucking awful when a guy couldn't even trust his own teammates.

  He took his time in the shower, giving his teammates plenty of time to clear out, then tugged on his clothes in the empty locker room. If his luggage wasn't waiting for him at the hotel, he'd have to go shopping to buy clothes and stuff. Maybe he should stop somewhere on his way home, just in case.

  Vince met him in the hall. "You need a ride?"

  Gratitude warmed through him like a hot coffee. Leo shifted his hold on his travel bag. "Kelsey's taking me to deal with the rental car."

  Vince's brows rose. "Cool. Well, see you tomorrow then. Once you get a game under your belt, things will get better."

  "As long as I only have to worry about the other team gunning for me." He shook his head, still keyed up from practice.

  Vince clapped him on the back. "I'm sorry about Slater. He's immature and his temper matches his hair."

  "I didn't expect anyone to roll out a welcome mat for me. But yeah, I wasn't expecting the rookie to come at me either."

  Soft footsteps sounded at his back and Leo turned, half expecting to see Slater again.

  Kelsey strode toward them, buttoning a gray pea coat. "Hey, Vince. Leo, are you ready to go?"

  With one look at her, the worries and complications of the day fell away. Desire tumbled into something deeper and sharper that he couldn't name, and the impact of both slammed into him like a wave crashing onto the shore. He nodded and then cleared his throat. "Sure."

  He waved to Vince and held the door for Kelsey. Cold wind billowed around them and sleet fell in steady sheets. Mentally adding a coat and hat to his to-buy list, he ducked his head and took careful steps. The parking lot had turned into a skating rink.

  She tugged on a purple knit hat. "How was practice?"

  "About what I expected it to be."
He adjusted his grip on his travel bag, securing it on his shoulder.

  Her foot slid forward and her gasp tore through him. He lunged to help her and skidded on the slick surface. They grabbed onto each other's arms. He widened his stance and shifted his body, grinning when she did the same. Years of being on skates had taught him how to control his center of gravity. Kelsey had no doubt learned that too.

  Her grin matched his, turning her from a stunning ice goddess to something warm and radiant and real. He didn't mind the icy droplets hitting his face and neck. They clung to Kelsey's hair, melting like crystals into a dark lake. But after a moment, cold set in, stinging his hands and nose in a sharp reminder of the elements.

  He made himself let go but he stayed close until they reached her car.

  She turned the heater on full blast and urged him to make use of the car's heated seat feature. He set it on seventy-five, hoping the heat would help dry his clothes.

  In the confined space, her perfume permeated his senses, teasing with hints of summer and sunshine. As she navigated the roads, she told him about the closest grocery store and shopping complexes by the hotel.

  Impressed, he settled back, content to listen to her voice for hours. "Do you have the entire city memorized?"

  "Not yet. I live near your hotel, so I know that area pretty well."

  He filed that information away, both comforted and unnerved that she was close by.

  By the time they reached the rental car place, the sleet had turned to freezing rain. Desperate to get out of the elements, Leo selected the first SUV he saw. "After years of being in L.A., all I want is something that'll be good in the ice and snow."

  Kelsey inspected the car with him, then disappeared while he fiddled with the controls. Minutes later, she returned and thrust an ice scraper into his hand. "Here. Your car doesn't have one, and you might not think to buy one."