Playing Hard: A Chesapeake Blades Hockey Romance (The Chesapeake Blades Book 3)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  “Well…” She rocked against him once more, nice and slow, her fingers curling in the thin cotton of his shirt. “It’s at a hotel and we’d probably be drinking. Which means we’d have to get a room.”

  “One room? Or two?”

  “Just, um, just one.”

  “Doesn’t that mean we’d have to sleep together?”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?” She tossed his earlier words back at him and rocked against him again. Once, twice. He sucked in a deep breath and tightened his hands around her hips, holding her still.

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “No.” She leaned forward, brushed her mouth against his then pulled away before he could kiss her. And damn if she wasn’t smiling. “It’s actually bribery. So—is it a date?”

  He pulled her closer, half-expecting her to stiffen or push against him, then leaned up and captured her mouth. The kiss was hot, needy, filled with promise and frustration. He broke the kiss with a small groan, knowing instinctively not to push things, not to push her. Not now. Not tonight. He was only slightly appeased to see that her breathing was as harsh as his own; slightly mollified to see her dark eyes smoldering with the same desire burning in his.

  “It’s a date.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shannon crouched low, bounced twice on her skates then swung her stick from side to side, tapping each post before rolling her head. Deep breath in, hold it. Release, nice and slow. One more time for good measure before getting into final position just before the puck dropped.

  Action exploded at center ice as Taylor fought for the puck, finally hitting the winger from New York with her shoulder as she dug with her stick. The puck broke free from the melee and slid across the ice, hitting the blade of Rachel’s stick. She turned and skated up the ice, passing the puck behind her to Taylor. Back and forth, moving into the offensive zone, setting things up for an early shot.

  Shannon straightened, allowing herself to relax for a fraction of a second as the action unfolded at the other end. She held her breath, watching as Taylor made a final pass to Rachel then skated around the back of the net. It was a classic set-up. All Rachel had to do was shoot. If she scored, fan-fucking-tastic. If not, Taylor would be there for the rebound—

  And fuck, fuck, fuck. How the fuck had Rachel missed? She totally whiffed the shot! Now the puck was heading back this way, being propelled through center ice by one of New York’s D-men. Shannon dropped to a crouch, her gaze focused on nothing but the puck. From her periphery, she saw one of the Blades—it had to be Sammie, nobody else was quite as small as she was—dash across the ice to intercept. Bodies collided with a dull thud but not before the puck shot free, straight toward another player from New York.

  Shit, fuck. Breathe. Focus.

  Closer…closer. Shannon watched the other player’s stick, watched as the woman shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Just a small sign, a little tell…Shannon didn’t move, just kept watching as the player moved closer and pulled back on her stick—

  Now!

  Shannon followed the motion of the stick with her eyes, watched as the woman followed-through on the shot. The puck sailed straight toward her, low and fast. She reached out with her glove hand and snagged it before it crossed the line, started to throw it to the side for Sammie. But Sammie wasn’t close enough and there were two players from the other team waiting on it, skating in fast to knock it free and shoot it in on a rebound. Shannon pulled her glove hand into her chest, cradling the puck and waiting for the whistle.

  The shrill blast echoed in the chilled air, followed by a short burst of subdued groans from the home crowd. A split-second later, Shannon felt the slash of a stick across her lower back, sharp and stinging. She straightened, dropping the puck to the ice and jumping to her feet, ready to swing at the woman standing a foot away. But then Sammie was there, and Dani and Maddison, coming between her and the player from New York. And then the ref was there, separating all of them before anything else could happen.

  Yeah, because God forbid if they actually started fighting.

  Shannon reached down for the puck, tossed it to the ref then stared at him, waiting for him to call a penalty. He simply looked at her then skated away.

  “What the hell? No penalty? Come on! How could you miss that?”

  The ref turned back, frowning, then shook his head.

  “What? Are you fucking blind? She slashed—”

  Taylor skated closer, practically shoving her hand in Shannon’s face to quiet her. “Don’t. You’ll draw a penalty.”

  “Me? What about her? Did you not fucking see that?”

  “Yeah, I did. Let me handle it.” Taylor nodded once then skated off toward the ref, her face a mask of fury as she started talking to him. Shannon couldn’t hear what was being said but she could tell Taylor was losing her cool. Her face was turning a dangerous shade of red and she was motioning wildly with one hand. The ref shook his head again, his mouth thinning into a hard line.

  And then Sammie was there, pulling Taylor away, saying something to her in a low voice as she tugged. The ref skated away, getting into position for the next puck drop.

  Son of a bitch. He wasn’t going to call it! Shannon bit down on her mouthpiece and got back into position, anger coursing through her veins.

  Brush it off. Focus. Get back into the zone.

  Her eyes darted to the board, noticed the time left on the clock. Twenty seconds. They could do this. Twenty seconds and the game would be over, and the Blades could put another point in the win column. No problem.

  Just breathe. Focus.

  The puck dropped again only this time, New York won the draw. Fuck! Shannon crouched lower, barely blinking as her eyes followed the puck. Close. Closer. She waited for the shot, watched as the puck was passed right in front of her. She moved toward it, realized her mistake and scrambled back. And shit, here it came, she wasn’t in position—

  Shannon leaned backward, arching her back and stretching to the right, the muscles of her thighs and abdomen pulling…pulling. She threw her right arm to the side, reaching across the net with her stick, knowing it was too late, knowing New York had just tied the fucking game.

  Stretching more, her breath held, her thighs and abs burning, everything moving in slow motion as she reached…reached—

  The puck hit her stick and bounced out, away from the net and straight toward Rachel. Holy fucking shit, no fucking way! The other woman looked as stunned as Shannon felt.

  “Go! Go!” Shannon shouted at her over the background noise, breathed a sigh of relief when Rachel spun around and skated away from the net.

  Three seconds. Two. One—

  The horn blared, signaling the end of the game. Shannon collapsed onto her knees and bent over from the waist, her helmet touching the ice as she sucked frigid air into her lungs.

  Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

  Hands reached for her, pulling her to her feet then gathering her in for a group hug. She heard excited voices and mingled words of congratulations and disbelief as she was pulled toward the bench. Coach Reynolds tapped her on the helmet with her ever-present clipboard as Shannon made her way back to the locker room with everyone else.

  “Holy crappola, you are the Limbo Queen!” Sammie pulled her into a big hug, bouncing up and down and nearly clipping her in the chin with the top of her head. Shannon laughed, finally extricating herself so she could start getting out of her gear.

  “I don’t know about all that.” She pulled her jersey off and tossed it to the side, then removed her chest and arm pads. She twisted, trying to see her lower back, then gave up and turned toward Dani. “Is there a mark there?”

  Dani leaned over, frowning as she traced a line on Shannon’s back. “Yeah, you’ve got a nice welt going. It’s not bleeding, though.”

  “Well, that’s something, I guess. I can’t believe that dumb fuck didn’t call a penalty on that.” She dropped to the bench and removed the rest of her pads, then s
tarted unlacing her skates. “Taylor, did he say anything to you when you went over to talk to him?”

  “Yeah.” Taylor’s mouth thinned out and an angry blush stained her cheekbones. “He told me not to tell him how to do his job.”

  “Are you serious?” Shannon yanked her sock off and tossed it to the side. “What an ass.”

  “Don’t worry, she got him back.” Sammie dropped to the bench next to Shannon, a grin on her face. “Taylor told him that if he was actually good enough to do his job, he would be playing for us instead of wearing stripes.”

  Laughter echoed around the dingy locker room. Taylor’s blush deepened and she shrugged. “Sorry, but he pissed me off. The ass.”

  Conversation dwindled to a low roar, then faded to nothing as Coach Reynolds came in to congratulate them and discuss what they needed to work on. Then it was time to hit the showers and head out to the bus for the long ride home. Shannon tossed her gear bag into the outside compartment then climbed onboard, wincing just a little when she took her normal seat in the back. Taylor and Sammie and Dani all frowned at her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just a little stiff. I stretched muscles I didn’t even know I had.”

  “I still can’t believe you made that save!”

  “Yeah, neither can I. It was pure dumb luck, that was all.”

  Taylor shook her head, contradicting Shannon. “No, that was pure skill.”

  “No, it was luck. If I hadn’t been out of position, I wouldn’t have had to stretch like that. My mistake.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. Trust me, it was a beautiful save. Keep playing like that, and we’re going to give the Banners a game they aren’t expecting.”

  Dani spun around in her seat, leaning over the back to stare at Taylor. “You’re delusional if you think we can beat them. We don’t have an ice cube’s chance in hell.”

  “Why not? We’re good. There’s no reason we can’t beat them.”

  Sammie raised her hand then quickly dropped it. “Um, hang on. Isn’t this supposed to just be a charity game? You know, for fun?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t win.”

  “Taylor, you’re delusional. Just like Dani said.”

  “What is with you guys? Why so negative? Why so convinced we’re going to lose?”

  “Um, let’s see. They’re bigger. They’re faster. They’re more experienced—” Shannon started to say more but her phone began vibrating. She pulled it from the front pocket of her slacks and glanced down at the screen, then bit back a smile when she saw the text notification from Caleb. It was just a simple text, there was absolutely no reason for her heart to be dancing in her chest the way it was. That didn’t stop her from smiling when she swiped the screen and brought the text up.

  Awesome save. I’m impressed.

  He watched the game? But how? The Banners were on the road this weekend, playing in Florida then in Nashville. The only way he could have watched the game was if he had been streaming it on his phone through a social media app, because it sure as hell wasn’t playing on any of the networks.

  Her fingers flew across the screen, typing out a reply.

  Thanks. It was nothing but luck.

  I think skill might have had something to do with it. Did you hurt anything?

  No.

  Too bad. I was going to offer to kiss everything to make it better :)

  Shannon bit back a grin and wondered if her face was as red as it felt. Probably. Yes, she knew it was silly. Not silly—stupid. They hadn’t done anything except kiss…which sounded so juvenile, it was almost embarrassing. But it had almost become a game now, one filled with teasing suspense, all leading up to Sammie’s wedding next week.

  And God help her, but she was enjoying herself. Yes, she was going to sleep with him—although she really hoped there wasn’t much actual sleeping involved. Was it a smart move? Maybe. Maybe not. But she didn’t care. She liked Caleb. She enjoyed hanging out with him, enjoyed their bantering and teasing. She didn’t think he was playing her, but if he was…so what? Maybe she was simply playing him, too. They were both having fun, not looking for a relationship. Her heart wasn’t involved, not even close. As long as she kept that in mind, she’d be fine.

  No response, huh?

  She looked back at her phone, realized she’d been sitting there for several minutes without saying anything. She bit back a smile and typed back.

  I’ll hold you to that next weekend.

  There was a slight pause before her phone vibrated again. She opened the message and almost laughed out loud at the gif of a bottle of champagne being popped and exploding everywhere that flashed across her screen. Yeah, that could definitely be taken in more than one way.

  Gotta run, time to get ready for game. I’ll text later.

  Shannon replied with a quick ok then tucked the phone back into her pocket…and looked up to see three sets of eyes staring at her. “What?”

  “Who was that?”

  “Why do you have that shit-eating grin on your face?”

  “Yeah. And holy crappola, why are you blushing like that? I’ve never seen you blush like that before.”

  “I am not blushing.”

  Sammie reached over and placed the back of her hand against Shannon’s forehead. “Yup, you’re definitely blushing. And your face is hot. I’d almost think you had a fever but I’m a mom and know better. Okay, out with it. Was that Caleb?”

  “He just—”

  “Are you seriously still hanging out with him?” Taylor’s voice was flat, a little impatient. “Shannon, did you not listen to anything I told you?”

  “Yeah, I did. I’m ignoring it.”

  “You need your head examined.”

  “We’re just hanging out. Having fun. There’s nothing else going on.”

  “Wait. Aren’t you still bringing him to the wedding? Or did something change? Because I thought you said—” Sammie’s mouth snapped shut under Shannon’s glare. She dropped back into her seat with a little bounce, a bright smile on her face. “So yeah, anyway—”

  “You’re bringing Caleb as your date?”

  Shannon thought about denying it, but why? It wasn’t like Sammie hadn’t already told them. And it wasn’t like they wouldn’t find out anyway, especially since they were all sitting together at the small reception.

  “Yes, I’m bringing him.” She pointed a finger at Taylor, stopping the other woman before she could say anything. “And I don’t want to hear another word about it. Besides, I thought you liked him. You said he was a nice guy.”

  “Yeah, I did. I do. He is. But not to date. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I’m not going to get hurt.”

  Taylor opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it. She looked around then finally shook her head. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. I mean, you do realize you’re now sleeping with the enemy, right?”

  A short burst of laughter escaped Shannon. “We’re not sleeping together—”

  “Yet.”

  “—and he’s not the enemy. Why would you even say something like that?”

  “Because he plays for the Banners. And we’re going to be playing them. That makes him the enemy.”

  “You’re crazy, you know that, right? Abso-fucking-lutely crazy.”

  “No, I’m desperate. We can beat them. I know we can.”

  “Shannon’s right—you’re crazy.” Dani leaned further over the seat, then leaned up and swiped the bright red hair from her face. “You’re beyond crazy—you’re obsessing. And I’m starting to worry about you.”

  “I’m not obsessing. Don’t you guys realize how much is at stake with this?”

  “Taylor, it’s a charity exhibition game. There’s nothing at stake!”

  “Yeah, there is. Think about it. Do you have any idea how much publicity we would get if we go out there and kick their asses? People would finally notice us. Ticket sales would go up. The team would ma
ke more money. And if the team makes more money, we make more money. People would start to take us seriously.”

  Silence followed Taylor’s passionate speech, a silence filled with thought and consideration. Dani finally broke it with a small sigh. “More money would be nice. I’m getting tired of working extra nights just to pay my rent.”

  “Yeah. And it would be nice if we didn’t have to keep buying our own gear. I broke two sticks last week at practice.” Shannon held up two fingers. “Two. That adds up real quick.”

  “See? I told you, there’s a lot more to this than just a charity exhibition game. We need to really wow everyone. And we can do that if we beat the Banners.”

  Sammie sighed, the sound filled with quiet desperation. “I still don’t see how we’re going to do that.”

  “It’s not impossible. We just need to come up with a game plan.”

  “Fine. You’re the Captain. How do we come up with a game plan?”

  “We need a team meeting. And not one at the rink. There’s always some team or another playing or practicing there when we’re not.”

  “So why not just have it after practice? There’s nobody there that late.”

  “No, we need somewhere else. Someplace big enough for everyone so we’re not standing on top of each other.”

  “Then ask your parents. Their place is huge.”

  Taylor frowned, her head tilted to the side as she considered it. “No, I don’t want to do it there. I don’t want Uncle JP hearing about it and trust me, as soon as the twins overhear any little thing, they’ll be running off to spread the news to everyone.”

  Sammie raised her hand, kept holding it up until Shannon reached over and forcefully lowered it. “You need to stop doing that.”

  “Sorry, force of habit.” Sammie leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “We could have it at the warehouse.”

  “What warehouse?”

  “Jon and his buddies just leased a new space for everything and the place is huge. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we used it for a meeting.”