Checked

by Elise Faber

  Checked

  Gold Hockey #7

  Elise Faber

  CHECKED

  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.

  * * *

  CHECKED

  Copyright © 2020 Elise Faber

  Print ISBN-13: 978-1-946140-36-4

  Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-946140-50-0

  Cover Art by Jena Brignola

  Gold Hockey Series

  Blocked

  * * *

  Backhand

  * * *

  Boarding

  * * *

  Benched

  * * *

  Breakaway

  * * *

  Breakout

  * * *

  Checked

  * * *

  Coasting

  Contents

  Gold Hockey Series

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Coasting

  Gold Hockey Series

  Gold Hockey

  Also by Elise Faber

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Nutritionist Rebecca

  She’d been trying to slip by the happy couple without ruining the romantic moment Kevin had planned for Bex. But they were right by the front door, and they’d see her if she moved forward.

  And the guys were behind her, along with the girls.

  All of whom were perfectly lovely people.

  But she’d reached her limit on socializing for the day.

  Thus her pinned-in position in the hall. She was desperate to be out of here, more than desperate to get back to her empty and quiet house, slip into her pajamas, and watch Hallmark movies through the night.

  God, life was so much simpler in Hallmark movies.

  Kevin jumped up and kissed Bex and when it seemed as though they were fully distracted, Rebecca made her move, slipping past them on quiet feet and opening the front door.

  She’d just begun to close it quietly when a hand shot through the opening and prevented the door from shutting. Rebecca didn’t scream because Kev and Bex were still only feet away, but she also didn’t scream because her body already knew who it was. Her traitorous body, that was.

  Gabe pushed through the opening and quietly closed the door behind him.

  “You’re leaving,” he said.

  Nope. Not doing this.

  Ignoring him, Rebecca turned and started for her car. She’d purposely parked it where she wouldn’t be blocked in.

  Girl scout, she was. Always planning ahead.

  Always running.

  “Rebecca.”

  She kept walking.

  She might work with Gabe, but she sure as heck wasn’t on speaking terms with him. He’d dismissed her work, ignored her contribution to the team. He’d made her feel small and unimportant and—

  She’d had too much of that in her life already.

  So she kept walking.

  “Rebecca.”

  Not happening. Her car was in sight, thank fuck. She reached for the handle, glad her new car’s locks opened automatically when the key fob was near.

  He caught her arm.

  “Baby—”

  “I am not your baby, and you don’t get to touch me.” She ripped herself free, began muttering as she reached for the handle of her car again. “You don’t even like me.”

  He stepped close, real close. Not touching her, not pushing the boundary she’d set, and yet he still got really freaking close. Her breath caught, her chin lifted, her pulse picked up. “That. Is. Where. You’re. Wrong.”

  She froze.

  “What?”

  His mouth dropped to her ear, still not touching, but near enough that she could feel his hot breath.

  “I like you, Rebecca. Too fucking much.”

  Then he turned and strode away.

  One

  Rebecca, A Few Days Before

  “So,” she concluded, closing the slideshow presentation she’d been giving to the coaching and training staff of the Gold hockey team, “I’m suggesting that after the All-Star break, we start making the shift from animal proteins to plant. We would start small since we’re in the middle of the season, just adding some smoothies and a few dishes in the team rooms, but if that goes well—and I think it’ll give us a needed push going into playoff season—I’d propose a full shift for next season.” She sucked in a breath. “My plan is solid, and athletes who follow similar diets are feeling better, playing harder, and more importantly, are less injury-prone—”

  “That’s a little grandiose.”

  Rebecca froze. “What?”

  Gabe shifted in his seat, crossing one slack-covered leg over the other, leaning back to fold his arms over his chest. She had a hard time not letting her gaze linger approvingly on the powerful thighs, the gorgeous chest, and the arms those movements highlighted.

  But then he spoke, and she found her focus.

  Because as always, he was an asshole.

  “The research on this is incomplete.”

  Well, not an asshole so much as never giving an inch, never failing to point out if there was the barest amount of exaggeration in her statements.

  He was literal.

  Didn’t work in grandiosity.

  But he only ever seemed to push back with her.

  She’d have said it was because he had issues with women, that he was a classic case misogynist, but the Gold was the newest expansion team in the NHL and part of being the newest meant that they didn’t abide by the good ole boy’s club rules. There were lots of women on staff, nearly forty percent in most departments, and the administration had made a commitment to having gender equality in all groups in the next few years.

  They had begun with Brit, the first female player in the league, then had hired Mandy as head trainer, and more recently had brought Calle Stevens on board as an assistant coach. The former national team player was supremely talented and had a unique style of play that lent itself to the Gold.

  Then there was her. The second Rebecca, behind the very brash and equally brilliant Rebecca Stravokraus, the publicist for the team and PR guru. Second because she was quiet, because her job was less important . . . in some people’s eyes.

  Speaking of which, she narrowed hers at Gabe. “The research is promising, and many of the best athletes in other sports have made the switch to great success.”

  “Like who?”

  She named some of the star athletes currently dominating the basketball courts and football fields.

  “They are strong and explosive in their movements,” she said. “Just like our players. They’re less injury-prone, putting up big numbers. But you’re right,” she admitted, �
�this isn’t a magic solution. No diet plan will be.”

  “So, your research is anecdotal at best.”

  “N-no,” she said and sucked in a breath. “If you’d look at the index—”

  Gabe wasn’t listening. He huffed out a laugh. “The guys work hard. They need protein and not just froufrou hippie—”

  Bernard, the head coach of the team, stood. “I’ll let you two argue it out.” He glanced at his watch. “Keep me posted on what you decide. For now, I have another meeting.”

  Rebecca’s hands were shaking with fury, but she forced herself to meet his gaze and nodded. A moment later, he’d gathered his belongings and left, the rest of the room’s occupants beginning to follow suit.

  None of them could know how much it had cost her to ask for the meeting, to stand up there and present her idea to them.

  Gentle fingers on her arm.

  Rebecca glanced up and saw that Mandy was standing in front of her, softness in her expression. “I’ll talk to him.”

  She shook her head. “No—”

  The softness in her friend’s face faded. “He’s being an ass.”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the he Mandy was referring to.

  Yes, Gabe was. But—

  “He’s not necessarily wrong,” she began. “The research is—”

  “Gabe gets tunnel vision,” Mandy said. “I mean, I love the man and he’s one of my oldest friends, but the biggest strike against him as a doctor is his inability to think outside of his original paradigm. He gets onto a path and forgets to consider all the outside possibilities, even the ones he might have discounted initially as outliers.”

  Rebecca grasped on to that knowledge with both hands, tucking the snippet close, knowing it would be helpful in dealing with Gabe in the future.

  But it didn’t take away the sting now.

  “It’s fine,” she said, tucking her laptop into her backpack. “I’ll keep monitoring the research and present again at the beginning of next season.”

  Ten more months to prepare herself for another firing squad.

  “I don’t think we should drop—”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but . . .”

  A voice that was almost musical, sweet and lovely and totally unmatched with the type of player Calle Stevens had been on the ice—which was dominating, intense, and physical.

  “You’re not interrupting, Calle,” Mandy said, always pleasant, always so at ease in social situations. “We were just discussing how much of a pain in the ass our Dr. Gabe Carter can be.” She raised her voice on the last, loud enough that Gabe heard it from where he’d paused by the door.

  He mock-glared. “Thorough isn’t a pain in the ass.”

  “It is if you’re ignoring the obvious!” Mandy sing-songed back.

  Calle snorted.

  Gabe shook his head and strode out of the room.

  Mandy turned back to face them.

  Rebecca sucked in a breath to steady her voice and forced her eyes to meet Mandy’s then Calle’s. That was the worst part, the eye contact. Not knowing what her face betrayed, if they could see how much of a mess she was underneath.

  Calle’s lips were curved. “Gabe is . . . interesting.”

  Mandy huffed. “Interesting is one word for him,” she muttered then smiled widely, explaining to Calle, “I can only freely grumble because I’ve known the PIA for more than a decade.”

  “Ah.” Calle held up the papers Rebecca had passed out during the meeting. “Well, I don’t want to stop you guys from doing . . . that, but I did have a few more questions about the diet you were proposing.”

  “O-oh, I-I,” Rebecca stammered, clenching the straps on her backpack like it was her lifeline. “I—”

  Calle touched her shoulder. “Can we grab a coffee tomorrow?” Rebecca bit her lip. One on one with a person she was just coming to know? That was almost as bad as giving the presentation in the first place. “I would stay today, but I have to get to that same meeting as Bernard. I do want to learn more, even if you don’t have time tomorrow.”

  “I—uh . . .”

  “I have a few more questions too, so why don’t we all meet for tea?” Mandy suggested, and Rebecca’s chest relaxed as her friend saved her. “Ten-thirty at Molly’s?”

  Calle nodded. “Works for me.”

  Mandy smiled, bumped Rebecca’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve got to get to the training suite then home.”

  “Will you walk with me on your way?” Calle asked. “I’ve got a couple of questions for you too.”

  “Sure,” Mandy said, moving with Calle to the door. “What did you need . . .?”

  Their voices trailed off as they walked out of the room and down the hall.

  Rebecca was alone.

  She released a long, slow breath, crossed to the door, and flicked off the lights. But she didn’t go out, just leaned back against the piece of wood, backpack clutched in her arms, and breathed.

  She was alone.

  That was right.

  That was best.

  That was all she could ask for.

  Two

  Rebecca

  She spent longer than she cared to admit leaning against that wall, coaxing herself into moving, into leaving that room.

  But eventually she managed.

  The halls were quiet, mostly empty of players, off for the Christmas holiday—many were hanging out with family in the Bay Area, but others had gone home to Canada or Europe or returned to families in different parts of the U.S. It was pretty much staff-only at the rink this week of the year, everything winding down in many ways, while prep for the push of the second half of the season was already beginning to ramp up.

  Hence her proposal on a diet.

  Sighing, she made a quick stop at her office to grab her purse then stepped back out into the hall, smiling as she hurried past a harried-but-pleased-looking Bex. Probably because of the huge teddy bear that had been taking up a good portion of her office.

  So much of the space that Bex hadn’t been able to close the door.

  But Kevin, her boyfriend and a player on the Gold, was absolutely perfect for the publicist, just the right amount of pushy and sweet to get through the armor around Bex’s heart. He’d needed to be pushy, too. That armor had been thick as hell. But they were happy now, and Rebecca knew they’d go the distance.

  She had a sixth sense about relationships.

  Just not the courage to go for one of her own.

  Her mind was stuck on the giant fuzzy pink bear, gripping a huge heart that had been emblazoned with I’ll Always Love You For Your Brownies—an ode to the killer dessert Bex made, so good that even Rebecca gave up her no refined sugar, no bleached flour diet to have a taste when they were around—and so she missed the man blocking her way to the exit.

  She was always aware of her exits. Always.

  Except this time.

  And it was going to cost her.

  “Whoa there.”

  Warm hands on her arms, a big body too close—

  “Rebecca—”

  “Sorry,” she said, jumping back, eyes on the floor. She clutched her purse tighter, shifting to the side so she could shuffle past Gabe and escape, pretending he was just another normal human of the world and not a man that made her typically tripping heart skip double-time.

  He didn’t move, just let their bodies brush against each other as she slid by. Her cheeks went hot, a shiver skated down her spine, but as much as her body seemed to scream her attraction to Gabe, her mind was stronger. That contact was too intense. Filled with too many sensations.

  He was unsafe.

  So freaking dangerous.

  A hand on her shoulder. Heat exploded on her skin from that simple contact of his palm, spreading, flaring out through her body until it wasn’t just her cheeks that felt hot, but also every single nerve. She needed—

  “Rebecca—”

  Run, her mind screamed.

  Sta
y, her body countered. Get closer.

  That conflict, the equal and opposing forces, had the handcuffs that normally tied down her tongue unlocking, dropping to the ground, keeping her rooted in place when otherwise she might have run. But then again, many of the anxieties that made it so difficult for her to interact with people seemed to disappear when she was with Gabe.

  Case in point, the words and tone that came out of her mouth in that moment.

  “You’re an asshole,” she snapped, whipping around to face him. “You know that, right?”

  His head jerked back, her outburst almost a physical slap. “What?”

  Despite the lack of anxiety with Gabe, she still had never spoken to him that way. Yes, she was typically very quiet. Yes, that sometimes came off as bitchy.

  No, that didn’t mean she was anything but professional when it came to her interactions with the team, players, or staff. If anything, she was cold and rigid, or at least that was how she’d heard Gabe describe her to Mandy.

  She’s so stiff, I don’t think it’s a stick up her ass, it’s an icicle, he’d told Mandy one day in the training suite, obviously not realizing that Rebecca had been passing by them in the hall. Rebecca needs to get away from her granola recipes and find a life.