by Elise Faber
Caged
Gold Hockey #11
Elise Faber
CAGED
BY ELISE FABER
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
CAGED
Copyright © 2021 Elise Faber
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-63749-002-0
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-63749-001-2
Cover Art by Jena Brignola
Contents
Gold Cast of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Epilogue
Crashed
Newsletter
Gold Hockey Series
Gold Hockey
Also by Elise Faber
About the Author
Gold Cast of Characters
Heroes and Heroines:
Brit Plantain (Blocked) — first female goalie in the NHL, loves boy bands
Stefan Barie (Blocked) — captain of the Gold
Sara Jetty (Backhand) — artist and figure skater
Mike Stewart (Backhand) —defenseman for the Gold, romance guru
Blane Hart (Boarding) — center for the Gold, number 22
Mandy Shallows (Boarding) — trainer and physical therapist
Max Montgomery (Benched) — defensemen for the Gold, giant nerd
Angelica Shallows (Benched) — engineer at RoboTech, also a giant nerd
Blue Anderson (Breakaway) — top forward in the league and for the Gold
Anna Hayes (Breakaway) — Max’s former nanny, no relation to Kevin Hayes
Rebecca Stravokraus (Breakout) — Gold publicist, makes killer brownies, known at PR-Rebecca
Kevin Hayes (Breakout) — forward for the Gold, no relation to Anna Hayes
Rebecca Hallbright (Checked) — nutritionist for the Gold, plethora of delicious vegan recipes, known as Nutrionist-Rebecca
Gabe Carter (Checked) — doctor, head trainer for the Gold
Calle Stevens (Coasting) — assistant coach for the Gold, former national team member
Coop Armstrong (Coasting) — talented forward on the Gold, addicted to historical romance audiobooks
Mia Caldwell (Centered) — 5th degree black belt, brings the snark
Liam Williamson (Centered) — Gold forward finding his love for the game, charming and pushy in equal measures
Charlotte Harris (Charging) — new Gold GM, hates losing and the game Chubby Bunny
Logan Walker (Charging) — defensemen for the Gold, skills include: cockiness and being able to buy presents that make Charlotte squirm
Dani Eastbrook (Caged) — video coach for the Gold, tech nerd, could fix your computer in a flash, shy
Ethan Korhonen (Caged) — forward for the Gold, killer power play skills, known as Big Juicy Brain
Devon Scott (Block & Tackle) — former player, current owner Prestige Media group
Becca Scott (Block & Tackle) — Devon’s assistant
Additional Characters:
Fanny — skating coach
Bernard — head coach
Richie — equipment manager
Dan Plantain — Brit’s brother
Diane Barie — Stefan’s mom
Pierre Barie — Stefan’s dad, owner of the Gold
Spence — former goalie, married to Monique, daughter Mirabel
Monique — married to Spence, former model
Mirabel — daughter of Spence and Monique
Mitch — Sara’s boss
Allison and Sean — Blane’s parents
Pascal — Devon Scott’s security lead
Roger Shallows — Mandy’s dad
Grant and Megan — Devon’s parents
Chapter One
Dani
Shy.
She was painfully shy.
Great with tech. Horrible with people.
But that was okay because her job was tech. As a video coach for the Gold, her livelihood depended on how well she could interact with the tech surrounding her at any given time—tech that currently consisted of multiple monitors on her office wall, a desktop, a laptop, and a trio of tablets. She actually had a dozen tablets at her disposal, but the rest were currently being used by the coaching staff.
The Gold had just finished their third game of the season, and though she wouldn’t say her job got lighter as the season progressed, this time, in particular, was dizzying.
There were new players to get up to speed.
Changes to the system that needed to be addressed.
Specific plays the coaches wanted highlighted.
And she was down her assistant—who was out with the stomach flu—and an intern—who’d lied on his resumé, couldn’t actually isolate and/or edit video, and hated everything to do with the game of hockey.
Video. Coach.
Both of those were important—okay, both were critical to her job.
She needed to understand the game, needed to be able to anticipate what the players and coaching staff would need, and she needed to be able to move fast to isolate, tag, and make that content available, both during and after each of the eighty-two regular-season games, not to mention any additional playoff games the team might be lucky enough to participate in.
So, an intern with no interest in the sport was useless.
And an assistant coach, who was confined at home with the stomach plague, was similarly not helpful for the fingertip tap dance she had to conduct during a normal game. It meant she’d played double-duty for the contest, watching eight feeds at once, layering alternate angles together of different parts of the matchup—zone entries, injuries, penalties, or power plays—in addition to being prepared to advise the bench coaches on whether or not to challenge a particular goal.
In a word, by the time she was finishing up her end of the game process—superimposing stats pulled by the NHL onto the various video clips and making them accessible to players and coaches alike—Dani was exhausted.
But, crying over spilled milk and all that.
She didn’t have time for exhaustion or crying or . . . well, not much except to be staring lovingly into her screens, her fingers caressing the keyboards and tablets . . . and yes, she realized that her referring to staring lovingly and caressing anything tech-related meant that she’d probably been single far too long.
Not that single was an uncommon adjective to describe Dani Eastbrooke.
It was usually included, right along with quiet, shy, and painfully awkward.
“Stop,” she whispered. She was who she was, and she didn’t have time for reminiscing or self-flagellation, not when she had enough work for three people and only one person to do it.
A ping came across her cel
l.
Glancing down, she saw it was a request—or technically, three more requests, and . . . see? No time to think about her pathetically empty life.
On that pleasant thought, she straightened her shoulders and rolled out her neck, focusing on the screen in front of her as she began transferring the video.
Then turned and focused on the next one, repeating the process.
Once the third was complete, she gathered the tablets, pushed out of her chair, and hurried into the hall.
“Oof!” She skidded to a stop, warm hands gripping her shoulders, steadying her.
Unfortunately, she’d hurried without looking.
Unfortunately, because the tablets she’d been holding tumbled from her grip, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. Yes, they had protective covers. No, she didn’t normally launch them at concrete floors.
Also unfortunately, because she had crashed into a giant muscled mass of sweaty man. He was tall and blond and too fucking pretty for her mental well-being, especially with gentle gray eyes sliding to hers, with the warmth of his large hands soaking through the fabric of her shirt.
A sliver of heat slid through her stomach.
Oh, no.
That would not do.
Tearing her eyes away, she dropped to her knees and picked up the first tablet she could reach, running her finger over the screen and checking for damage.
“Do you stroke everything so carefully?”
Desire coated her spine in honey, filled her throat with cotton.
She glanced up, saw that he’d crouched next to her, and in an instant, was lost again in his eyes, the pale gray of the sky hinting at a thunderstorm.
Storm.
Well, that was fitting, considering the storm that had awakened inside her the first time she’d seen this man. God, she could still remember how every cell in her body had stood up and taken notice, and that had just been the result of viewing him through her monitor, just after he’d joined the team. Tall and big and yet somehow still graceful, even despite the beard and the tattoo peeking out of the collar of his jersey. From the first moment she’d laid eyes on Ethan, he’d reminded her of a giant grizzly bear, something any smart human had to fight the urge to not cuddle with.
Fluffy, but would tear a woman to shreds with those razor-sharp claws.
“Dani?”
“No,” she said simply and reached for the next tablet, doing a visual scan this time instead of any stroking. When it looked okay, she thrust it at him, at Ethan Rogers, at the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. “Here. This is the one Calle wanted you to have.”
“No stroking?” he said, almost lazily, taking the tablet from her with a slow brush of his fingers against hers.
More heat—sparking up her arms, sliding down her torso, pooling in her stomach.
Her words stoppered up in the back of her throat.
She simply shook her head in response.
“Dani?” he asked; the heat tempered, curiosity in its place. He was still crouching next to her, the smell of spice and male filling the air. Probably, the strong scent should have been off-putting. Instead, it was tempting, drawing her in like catnip, but she couldn’t look up at him, not even when he stayed still, stayed near, clearly waiting for her to speak or meet his gaze.
One rough finger brushed the back of her hand.
Sparks.
Gasping, her eyes flew up, collided with his gaze. Her heart absolutely pounded, but other than that single touch, he didn’t make any other moves to close the distance between them.
“Dani?” he asked again.
“Yeah?” she whispered.
“Why don’t you like me?”
Her jaw dropped open. Why didn’t she like him? Dani drooled after Ethan on a regular basis. She had dreams about him, had named her favorite vibrator after him.
See? Good with tech.
With people—including the gorgeous man all of two feet away? Horrible.
But what could she say? It wasn’t like she was going to share the name of her vibrator. Hell, she might as well be honest, she wasn’t going to share anything. This is what she did.
She got shy. She got quiet. She came off as a royal bitch.
“Y-you’re fine,” she finally managed, reaching for the last tablet, intending to find a way to bolt, to end her misery, and GTFO.
But he stood when she did, those gray irises dancing with mirth. “Fine?”
“I—uh—” Her cheeks burned, and worse, she felt tears prickle at the backs of her eyes.
Ugh. She hated that she did this, too.
Pushing past him, she tried to bolt.
“Hey,” he said, catching her arm. “Hey,” he said again, releasing her when she yanked fiercely at his grip. “I’m just teasing.”
She shrugged, stepped away, cheeks hot, eyes still stinging, her throat tight, her lips and mouth and tongue barely able to form words. “Right,” she managed after a painfully long time.
“Dani?” Another gentle question, and God, she liked the way he said her name, soft with a bit of a rasp, more grizzly vibes, more urges to cuddle.
Her shoulders tensed.
A soft chuckle.
Ethan was close enough that she would swear she could feel that small laugh skate over her skin. “I actually came to find you.”
She gaped, heart pounding.
He’d come to find her? That just didn’t compute.
“Me?”
He nodded.
She lost her words again. Because seriously, what universe was she currently living in?
“I wanted to ask you a question—”
Ah.
Her heart skittered to a stop, resignation sailing through her as she realized what was going down. This was how all of these types of conversations began. People like Ethan sought her out, not because they wanted to have a conversation or hang, but because they needed help with their TV or laptop or cell phone.
Ethan, she guessed, would need laptop help.
He looked like he could handle a cell or a television.
And no, don’t ask her how she knew what he needed help with, okay?
She’d been through this rodeo many a time before. Dani’s tech guru-ness was a gift that had been bestowed upon her at birth . . . okay, fine, it had been honed by many lonely preteen and teenage years.
“I can fix your computer,” she said, trying to pretend that she wasn’t miserable at the prospect, that she didn’t want someone to come to her for once for some other reason.
It was a good thing they didn’t. Really. It was.
She wouldn’t know what to do with them if they did.
Except, over the last few months, she had to wonder if she was selling herself short, if perhaps she’d sat back on her shy laurels for too long, used them as an excuse to keep people at a distance.
A snort bubbled up in her throat.
Or course she did.
That was her M.O. Always had been, always would be.
“What?” Ethan asked. “My computer isn’t . . .” He trailed off, and with her brows drawing together, she considered if perhaps her guru skills were out of practice. She hadn’t been hit up too often since she’d joined the Gold.
“Then you need help with your phone?” she asked.
He frowned, shook his head. “No.”
She tilted her head to the side, curiosity overshadowing her shyness for a moment, feeling herself intractably pulled into those gray eyes. “Your TV?”
“No, Dani,” he said on a husky laugh, and she ignored the prickles of desire trailing over her skin.
“Oh.” She swallowed. “Okay then.” She turned away.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Slowly, she spun back, eyes wide.
“That was my question,” he said, when she stared at him in shock. “Dani?” he asked, when she just continued staring at him mutely. “Did I break you?”
A slow shake of her head.
He stepped a little closer, just
near enough that she could feel the heat from his body. “No to the breaking you part, or no to the seeing anyone piece?” he murmured.
“The seeing anyone thing,” she somehow managed to whisper, despite the fact that the question from a man like him to a woman like her was absolutely one hundred percent unfathomable.
Circling back to sad and single and—
He smiled.
And she actually felt her brain cells collide and fizzle into smoke. That smile was dangerous, could without a doubt, turn her stupid. Really stupid.
“Good,” he murmured.
Swallowing hard, she nodded, cheeks on fire, and turned away again. “Right, I’ll just—”
“Will you go out with me?”
Her fingers went limp. The tablets hit the ground.
This time, the crunch sounded much more ominous.
Or maybe that was just her heart.
Chapter Two
Ethan
He winced when the tablets hit the floor again and bent over to scoop them up.
Shit.
One corner was cracked, but Ethan supposed that wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time something like that had happened. Still, he’d offer to pay for it. He didn’t like the idea of the team having to eat the cost for something he’d caused.
The other was unscathed.
Dani, however, appeared to be very scathed. Her mouth gaped, and he could swear there was pink warming the brown tones of her umber-colored skin, making him wonder what exactly had brought on the blush.
Was it that she was embarrassed he’d asked and felt uncomfortable?
That made a sick pit open up in his stomach.