by Toni Aleo
Books by Jennifer Lazaris
The Las Vegas Kingsnakes Series:
Getting Lucky (Las Vegas Kingsnakes #1)
Lucky Save (Las Vegas Kingsnakes #2)
Lucky Number (Las Vegas Kingsnakes #3)
The Toronto Smoke Series:
Unbreakable (Toronto Smoke #1)
About Jennifer Lazaris
Jennifer spent most of her early twenties blocking shots in front of a deck hockey net, writing stories, and holding out for a hero.
Now, she spends her days and nights hunched over the keyboard, combining her love of hockey and writing into romance novels.
A native of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Jennifer’s a die-hard Penguins fan who lives in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. She takes her life in her hands every time she wears her Penguins jersey in the heart of Leafs Nation, but figures it’s worth the risk to represent her beloved Black and Gold.
Her days off are spent spoiling two crazy cute cats, reading, and obsessively watching Sons of Anarchy reruns.
Email | Website
Melanie Ting - Her Best Worst Boyfriend
Vancouver Vice
This Christmas, Em Davis is bringing Mr. Wrong home to prove a point to her parents, and they’re going to hate him, but what if he turns out to be Mr. Right?
1. A Bad Boyfriend
“Goal!”
Em Davis jumped out of her seat, and the women around her followed suit. They raised their hands and shrieked. Their cheers echoed in the near-empty arena, but they had executed their cheering duties as beer league hockey wives and girlfriends.
“Who scored?” asked Sophia.
“Reeder, of course,” said Em with a wrinkle of her nose. Ian Reid was by far the best player on the team and completely aware of that fact. Right now he was riding his stick in celebration, which was complete overkill.
Ironically, while Em paid the most attention to the game, she was the only woman in the group who didn’t have a partner on the team. Her ex-boyfriend, Lucas, used to play, but when they broke up two years ago, Lucas kept their sunny rental apartment and most of the furniture while Em got possession of their car, their Gaggia coffee maker, and the hockey team. It was only fair since Em had gotten him onto the team because her two best friends, Abby and Sophia, were also WAGs.
So Em still came to all the games. Lately her friends were too busy to schedule proper get-togethers. Abby was pregnant and Sophia was planning her wedding, so their regular dinner-and-drinks evenings were only a memory.
Em sat back down on the uncomfortable yellow plastic seats of the suburban Ottawa arena.
“Mason assisted on that goal,” she told Abby.
“Oh my God, thank you. Mase practically quizzes me after each game to make sure I noticed everything he did. Um, did you see any details?”
“Yeah, he and Reeder came down the ice together, Reeder was carrying the puck and he passed it to Mason in the offensive zone, then Reeder went to the net, where Mason feathered a pass through, and Reeder wired it in.” Em felt like an instant replay machine.
“Feathered a pass,” repeated Abby. “I am going to use those exact words. Mase will jizz on the spot.”
Sophia and Em snickered.
“You should date someone on the team, Em,” said Elinor, one of the new girlfriends who was sitting behind them. “You know more about hockey than any of us.”
Everyone else fell silent. Em’s breakup had been a magnitude 6.9 earthquake. She and Lucas met in high school and dated for ten years, including five years of living together. Everyone assumed they’d get married—including Em—but when she’d begun pressuring him about an engagement, he announced that he wasn’t ready and didn’t see himself being ready for a long time. So Em had broken up with him. She had a life plan, and she wanted someone who was on her timetable. But the fact that it was Em’s decision didn’t make the breakup any less traumatic.
However, Em was over Lucas now. She smiled at the oblivious Elinor. “They all have girlfriends, don’t they?”
Abby answered this. “Well, Andre the new goalie doesn’t. But he’s kind of young. Barry just broke up with his girlfriend. And of course, Ian is single.”
“I’m hardly his type,” sniffed Em. Ian’s periodic girlfriends all had the same two qualities: low IQs and large breasts. Or maybe that should be three qualities.
Elinor inadvertently glanced at Em’s chest, which was quite substantial. “How did you learn so much about hockey anyway?”
“My ex played,” said Em. She went to Lucas’s games in high school, university, and then beer league. He had always been a really good player, and she took vicarious pride in his hockey skills.
There was a skirmish on the ice—pushing but no actual fighting. Fighting would get you thrown out. Ian was in the middle of things as usual. What an idiot.
Em shook her head and then resumed her conversation with Abby and Sophia.
“So, I was telling you about Thomas.” They turned back to her. Hockey games were the best place to get their undivided attention.
“I met him at this training seminar. I don’t usually date guys from work, but since he’s in a different department, I thought it was okay.”
“What’s he like?” Abby asked. She leaned forward, and her auburn hair framed her glowing face. Pregnancy agreed with her.
“He’s really nice. We’ve only gone out a few times, but I think there’s real potential.”
Both Abby and Sophia frowned at her.
“Em. Chill. You go too fast, too soon,” said Sophia.
But Em was on a schedule. According to her life plan, she should have been married and thinking about children by now. She wasn’t unhappy; she liked her job, her new condo, and her friends. But her work in economics was all about predicting future trends. According to statistics on age and marriage, her own future prospects were becoming more limited.
“Thomas is a lot like me. He’s got a good job at Treasury Board, he makes long-range life goals, and he enjoys documentary films.”
Sophia grimaced. “You need someone less serious, Em. Someone fun.”
Em understood the hidden message: you’re too serious. That was something people had said to her all her life. But she couldn’t change her personality. People criticized her, but they were happy to take advantage of someone reliable to help with their taxes or pick them up at the airport.
“Besides,” said Abby. “You know exactly what’s going to happen. You’ll take him home and your parents won’t approve. Then you’ll break up with him.”
This was true too. Her parents had met her last two boyfriends and disliked them enough that Em felt there was no point in going on. She was very close to her family. Unfortunately, they’d loved Lucas and kept comparing every new guy to him. Which was infuriating because Em would have married Lucas if he’d agreed.
“Sophia, how did you get your parents to appreciate Henry?” Em asked. Sophia’s parents were Chinese immigrants, and had wanted her to marry a Chinese guy—not Henry, who, with his red hair and pale, freckled complexion, was the polar opposite. And he was a musician and recording engineer while Sophia was a lawyer. It seemed miraculous that the Chens loved Henry.
“Well, the fact that he learned Mandarin helped,” said Sophia. “But I think it was really Elliot.”
Both Em and Abby made the sign of a cross at the mention of Elliot’s name. He was officially the worst guy any of them had dated: a serial cheater and a rip-off artist who never had any money while he drove fancy cars and wore designer clothes. But worse was the way he treated Sophia. He belittled her and made her feel like their issues were her fault. Em and Abby had done a celebratory dance when Sophia announced the breakup.
“Henry looked so good compared to Elliot that your parents were relieved?” asked Abby with a giggle.
“Yes. And made them realize that they were prejudiced. Just because a guy is Chinese doesn’t mean his character is better.”
Em nodded. Henry was a great guy. He was ge
ntle and funny, but best of all, he treated Sophia like a queen.
“I need an Elliott in my life to show my parents that things could be a lot worse than Lucas,” Em said. She watched Henry battle for the puck in the corner.
“Isn’t your problem that they already don’t like your new boyfriends?” asked Sophia.
“Yes, but they’re too picky. Todd’s job was too ‘bourgeois,’ and they didn’t approve of Ben’s politics. I need to bring home someone they’ll actually hate. Then I can bring Thomas over while they’re still reeling. Instant approval.”
Abby looked skeptical. “Where are you going to find a guy that awful? Is Elliot still living in Ottawa?”
“Luckily, I have no idea where he is now,” said Sophia.
Just then, Ian Reid got loose on a breakaway, skated right to the net, deked the goalie, and fired the puck top shelf. All the women dutifully popped up to cheer. Em watched Ian turn his stick into a bow and fire an imaginary arrow into the rafters in celebration of the latest goal in a 7-2 game. She could hear Lucas saying, “Only assholes celebrate goals in a blow-out win.”
Em’s scheme clicked into place.
“Abby, Ian usually spends Christmas with you, doesn’t he?”
Abby nodded. “There’s a bunch of us. Mase jokes that we do Christmas for orphans.”
“Does he not have a family?” Sophia asked.
“He has a mom, but I don’t think he has any idea where she is. He was raised by his grandparents, and they’re gone now.”
“How tragic,” said Sophia. She had an enormous family.
Em steeled herself. She was not going to feel sorry for the biggest jerk on the team. “You just said he doesn’t have a girlfriend, right?”
“Not as far as I—” Abby stopped and glared at Em. “Wait a second. Are you thinking of using Ian as your bad boyfriend?”
“Well, he fits. Ian Reid would be the worst man I’ve ever brought home.”
“Oh c’mon, he’s not that bad.” But Abby was biased. She had to like him because Ian was her husband’s best friend.
Em shuddered. “The first time I saw Ian, he was drinking a beer with no hands and beer was running down his face. So disgusting. It was like something out of a frat movie.”
“Wasn’t that Mason’s pre-party for the stag?” Abby said.
Em nodded. “And the first time Ian saw me, he asked someone, ‘Who’s the chick with the great tits?’”
“Nobody ever says that about me,” the slender Sophia piped up.
Abby continued her loyal defence. “He was drunk, and he has a loud voice. He didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
“He’s sexist, ignorant, and rude. I don’t even talk to him anymore because he always says something that makes me want to belt him into next week.”
Sophia giggled. “Sorry, that’s so funny. He’s so big, and you’re not exactly an athlete, Em. You couldn’t budge him an inch.”
“See, more reasons that we’re incompatible. He’s athletic and I’m not. But my parents are very intellectual. They will hate him.”
Abby frowned. “Em, honestly, it’s mean. If you tell Ian he’s the worst guy you can imagine dating, isn’t that going to hurt his feelings?”
“If he had feelings, I’d be more concerned,” Em said. “Besides, it’s a two-way street. I know he can’t stand me either.”
“How do you know that?” Sophia asked.
“He insults me constantly. Nobody can be that offensive by mistake. Whenever we’re in the same place, we steer clear of each other and that’s the way I like it.”
“How are you going to suffer through Christmas together then?” asked Abby.
“I’m willing to make the sacrifice. Thomas and I have a lot in common, and I want him to have a chance.”
Abby shook her head. “I don’t know, Em. It’s like some dumb movie where everything will go wrong...”
“And the two of you end up together,” finished Sophia, who was a huge fan of rom coms and happy endings.
Em watched Ian drinking on the bench. Oh God, was that water or was it a beer? Who would drink beer during a game?
“That will never happen,” Em said.
2. The Bribe
Em snuck another look at Ian across the bar. It was one thing to think up a great scheme, but another to make it happen. He was drinking beer and laughing with the guys. Ian was too much. Too big and beefy. Too much thick, dark blond hair—in a mullet, no less. Even his facial features were over the top: dark eyebrows, broad nose, and thick lips. He was also unpredictable, which made Em worry about approaching him.
She usually begged off the bar part of the evening. As the only unattached woman there, she didn’t want the reminder of how her life was off track. But tonight she was on a mission: convince Ian to pose as her boyfriend to pave the way for a real relationship with Thomas.
Em took a deep breath and walked over.
“Hey, Ian.”
“Em.” Ian looked her up and down. As usual, his gaze caught on her chest.
“Great game tonight.” She leaned against the bar beside him. “Too bad I didn’t have a hat to throw for your hat trick.”
“Actually, I had four goals. You know what that means, right?”
Em frowned. Maybe she wasn’t as much of a hockey expert as everyone thought. “Noooo. What do I throw for four goals?”
“Your panties.”
She choked back her normal response, which would be suggesting that Ian insert one part of his body into another lightless part. But his crudeness was fine. After all, the more offensive Ian was, the more perfect he would be for her purposes.
They’d known each other for a few years. It was inexplicable that Mason and Ian were best friends because Mason was such a sweetheart, and Ian was such a…well, Em had no polite words to describe him. But ever since Abby began dating Mason, Ian was there. He was even the best man at their wedding while Em was the maid of honour.
Em debated whether flattery or honesty would be the best method to get Ian to agree to this. But she wasn’t a good enough liar to flatter Ian.
“I was wondering if you’d do me a huge favour...” she began.
Ian snorted. It sounded like a negative snort, which wasn’t encouraging. “First time you’ve talked to me in months, and you want something. You’re a piece of work, Em.”
Flustered, she wondered what to say next. Maybe she should think of someone else to ask. But she liked most people. Ian was the only person she’d hated on sight, and her irritation grew every time she saw him. She even hated his Ottawa Valley accent. It sounded false to her, like he was pretending to be dumber than he was.
Ian drank more of his beer, and his eyes moved to the big screen TV where hockey highlights were playing. Was she being dismissed?
Then he looked back at her. “Spit it out. What does the little princess want?”
To punch you in the face. Except she had a new French manicure and she’d never punched anyone in her life. She blurted out, “Would you like to come home with me for Christmas?”
Ian scowled. “What is this, a joke?”
“No, I need you to be my bad boyfriend.”
That made him smile. “Oh, you’ve been a naughty girl and you need to be punished? I can do that.”
She flushed to the roots of her light brown hair. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.”
He shook his head in mock disappointment. She estimated that Ian would give her another sixty seconds before he walked away, so Em rushed on. “You see, my parents really liked Lucas, and they’ve hated all the guys I’ve dated ever since. Now I’ve met this new guy—Thomas—and I think we might be a match, but first I need to teach them a lesson. If I bring you home, they’ll dislike you enough so that Thomas looks good in contrast.”
Once she finished, Em realized how insulting she sounded. “Not that you’re such a terrible guy, I only meant that you and I are incompatible.”
Ian laughed. He didn’t seem insulted at all. �
�Get real. Why in hell would I wanna do this?”
“It could be fun. My dad’s a good cook.” Em lowered her voice. “Better than Abby.” Abby was wonderful in many ways, but cooking was not one of them.
“I get to spend Christmas with the three of youse looking down your noses at me, right? Sounds like a fucking rip. Besides, you’re not even from Ottawa, are you?”
She shook her head. “No, Toronto.”
“Better and better. I drive five hours each way, I’m trapped for multiple days, and everyone hates me. If I was a masochist, I’d get you to whip me instead.” A grin flashed across his face. “If you wear one of those little latex outfits, it might be worth it.”
But Em wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Is there something you really want? We could trade.”
Ian raised his eyebrows. “Em, you offering what I think you’re offering?”
Was it possible for the hairs on her head to blush? Because that was the only part of her that wasn’t red right now. “Oh! No! Of course not. I mean, I’m good with numbers so I could do your taxes or something.”
Ian made a derisive grunt. “I can do my own taxes. You’ll have to do better than that.”
But all Em knew about Ian was that he was good at hockey, worked in construction, and acted like a guy’s guy.
“Give me a hint. What would be your perfect Christmas gift?”
“Other than Kim Kardashian, gift-wrapped?” Ian finished his beer and looked around for another. Then he pulled out his phone. “Wait, I got an idea.”
What if he asked for something really extravagant? Was Thomas really worth all this effort? But then she remembered her life plan: career, marriage, children. She wasn’t going to be married by 28, but at least she could get close.
Ian held up his phone. “The Leafs have a game on December 26th. I’m a huge Leafs fan, and I wouldn’t mind going to a home game. Why don’t you get us a couple of tickets to that?”