Puck Battles: A Complete Sports Romance Series

by Kristen Echo

  It had been a while since she’d seen the inside of a salon. Her sister didn’t have a single white hair, unlike Gwen whose roots desperately needed a touch up. She smoothed her hands over her roots, trying to hide them. It had been a rough couple of months, following her break-up and Westlyn’s diagnosis. Then there was the school incident. So many things were out of her control. Gwen needed to focus on the few items she could fix. Step one had been getting out of British Columbia. Step two was to find work and fill her empty bank account.

  Cherie’s mouth remained in a straight line. It was clear she hadn’t expected them, nor did she want them. Her ramrod straight posture conveyed her feelings loud and clear. She held the door open only a fraction wide enough for them to squeeze through. At least she let them in.

  There was no welcome mat, coat rack or other shoes lining the entry. Just them and their stuff, cluttering an otherwise empty space.

  “I see you’ve brought bags. Are you expecting to stay here?” Cherie asked after hugging Wes.

  The sisters didn’t embrace. The strain between them was Gwen’s fault, and she hoped to remedy the situation. Cherie was five years younger and wildly more successful. Gwen didn’t envy her sister’s career. The long hours of corporate law wouldn’t have worked with her role as a single parent.

  “That would be great. Only for a short while,” Gwen added.

  “A very short while,” her sister agreed. “As I mentioned, I’ve got plans this evening. My… friend will be here shortly, and I suppose we’ll head out. Please head to the guest room and settle in. Perhaps we can all catch up in the morning,” she said with the warmth of an icicle.

  “Thank you for offering a bed.” Wes smiled and hugged her aunt. Her long brown locks fell over her face like a veil, shielding her. “Which one is mine?”

  “Second door on the left,” Cherie responded, pointing down the hall. “You’ll have to share with your mother. This is only a two-bedroom.”

  The condo was luxury from top to bottom. The walls were covered with modern scroll wallpaper. It was posh but lacked personality. The colors reminded her of a magazine cover, bright and light, drawing the focus to the floor to ceiling windows. From the crown moldings, the TV to the appliances, all the finishes were high-end.

  “Thanks, Aunty.” Wes appeared exhausted and retreated to the guest room without hesitation, dragging her two bags behind her.

  When Gwen stepped to follow, Cherie gripped her arm. Her cold fingers dug into her bicep, stopping her in her tracks. Their eyes met. Her sister raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to say something.

  “Sorry, I should thank you for taking us in,” she said. “I meant to say thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  Cherie let go and planted her hands on her slender hips. “I don’t need your gratitude. What kind of mother pulls her daughter out of school weeks before graduation? That’s a monumental moment for a girl.” Her voice was low enough for Westlyn not to hear.

  “The kind that wants her daughter to survive,” she replied through clenched teeth.

  If her sister knew even half of the hell Westlyn had endured this past year, she wouldn’t have asked. She squared her shoulders, ready to fight. If Gwen had been a better mother, she’d have switched schools sooner. As quickly as her hackles raised, they fell. Those failures weighed heavily on her heart.

  “You don’t—”

  Loud music blared in the background. “That’s my phone,” Cherie explained and raced towards the kitchen.

  The conversation wasn’t one she was in the mood to continue. Another time. Gwen escaped to the guest room and found Wes already under the covers. She checked her watch. It was only nine-thirty. The curtains were open, bathing the room in light.

  “Are you actually tired or are you trying to avoid life?” She sat on the bed and pulled the floral covers off her daughter’s face.

  A beautiful clear complexion and deep, jade green eyes stared back. “A little of both,” Wes admitted. “She doesn’t seem happy to have us here. I told you to call her. No one likes surprises.”

  A chuckle escaped. “You love surprises. And you’re right. I thought about calling, but she would have said no. Your aunt is still ticked with me because I lost our mother’s jewelry. One day she’ll forgive me.”

  “You also owe her ten grand. Don’t forget that minor detail.”

  As if she could. She pinched her daughter’s nose and smiled. “I’ll pay her back. Don’t worry about that stuff. Focus on—”

  “Taking my meds and fixing my head. Is that what you were going to say?” Westlyn sat upright, and the covers pooled around her stomach. She’d removed her bracelets, leaving her arms bare.

  Gwen’s eyes drifted to her teenager’s tiny wrists. Deep, angry, fresh scars decorated the young skin. A permanent reminder of the day she’d almost lost her. Westlyn was her ray of sunshine and her rock. A world without her would be unbearable.

  She hugged her, burrowing her nose in her hair. “Enjoying your early summer; that’s what I was going to say.”

  Weak arms wrapped around her waist. “Sure you were, Mom.”

  Breathing in her sweet, fruity scented hair, Gwen let go. “If you’re tired, get some rest, but take your pill first. Doc says one before bed.”

  The new medication treating her depression was expensive. The side effects were zapping her daughter’s energy. Gwen couldn’t tell if they were working or not.

  Wes reached over her and pulled a half empty bottle of pills from her purse. She popped one without water, swallowed and opened wide. “Happy?”

  The examination wasn’t necessary. “I am if you are.” she answered.

  Neither spoke again. Wes laid her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Gwen remained seated on the double bed, rubbing her back for a while. When her daughter’s breaths evened, she stopped and stood.

  Her eyes were wide open. Sleep wouldn’t come for a long while she thought, looking out the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. A forest of green was nestled next to the concrete parking lot. Gwen spotted a trail among the foliage. A walk would do her some good. Fresh air to help clear her head.

  When she came out of the guest room, she heard voices. She tiptoed down the hall past the dining area. The frosted glass doors were closed. As she stepped by, a door opened, sending her sideways and careening towards the floor.

  The marble tiles offered an unwelcome greeting for her backside. She landed with a thud. “Ouch!”

  “I’m sorry,” a deep, male voice said.

  If she wasn’t already on her butt, she would have fallen after seeing him. Spencer Northcote stood before her with his hand outstretched to help her to her feet. She froze. His face had aged, but it wasn’t one she’d ever forget. First loves had a way of sticking in the brain, even after trying to erase them.

  The past hit her like a one-two punch to the gut, stealing her air and her ability to talk. Her ex-boyfriend and first big mistake looked the same, only older. A few lines around his eyes and the silver in his hair added an extra layer of appeal. Spencer had always been attractive, but he’d become more dashing. Almost irresistible.

  Visions of their first kiss resurfaced. Behind the bleachers at the community hockey arena, she’d been shivering, and he’d wrapped his arms around her. He’d stared into her eyes as his mouth covered hers. He hadn’t asked for permission, and she never pushed him away. The softest and warmest lips on the planet had put an end to the shivers. They’d known each other for all of an hour and she’d let him kiss her.

  She’d let him do a whole lot more too. Like break her heart.

  Drinking him in, she felt drunk from the memories. Their eyes locked. A shiver raced down her spine as she got lost in his swirls of blue. Just like the first time she saw him, her heart beat faster. The man was dapper and utterly delectable. She noticed his eyes widen as recognition dawned. Maybe she wasn’t so easily forgotten either.

  “Hi,” he said, leaning towar
ds her. “Give me your hand”

  She pushed his hand away. Nothing good would come from him.

  Cherie halted mid step when she entered the hall. Her eyes narrowed as she saw her sprawled on the floor. “What are you doing? Get up.”

  Gwen scrambled to her feet without responding to either. She needed to get out of there and fast. The exit was behind them. She exhaled and smoothed her rumpled t-shirt. Bumping into her ex and looking like she’d crawled out of a dumpster wasn’t how she’d have envisioned their reunion. In fact, she’d hoped to never see him again.

  “Gwen,” he spoke her name as if he were testing it out. “It’s been a long time.” Spencer ran his hand through his full head of hair and smiled.

  The enchanting curve of his lip made her knees weak. She looked away as Cherie stepped between them. She welcomed the distance.

  “We were on our way out to celebrate Spencer’s big win,” Cherie explained. “Shall we?” She curled her arm around Spencer’s.

  Gwen looked between the two, flabbergasted that her sister hadn’t told her she was talking with her ex. Then again, they didn’t have the type of relationship where they confided in one another. Hell, they barely spoke at all. Her mouth opened to ask what win, but she didn’t. It was none of her business. She didn’t care. She snapped her mouth closed.

  “The team won,” he added.

  Cherie smiled as she slapped his chest playfully. Her hand lingered against the lapels on his jacket. “Don’t be modest. The Stanley Cup is a major accomplishment. A celebration drink is in order.”

  So many questions begged to be asked, but Gwen kept quiet. She refused to get sucked into his vortex and care about his life. She forced her eyes off him and looked at her feet as she stepped past the pair towards the exit.

  “Join us,” Spencer offered, catching her off guard.

  Her footsteps halted on command. No. Hell no, she wanted to shout. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder and once again his handsome face crippled her ability to think clearly. She shook her head, unable to respond verbally.

  “She can’t,” Cherie answered for her. “Gwen’s not dressed appropriately for where we’re going. Plus, the reservation is only for two.”

  “Then we’ll stay here. That was the original plan,” Spencer responded. “I’m sure you can cancel the reservation.”

  “But… I pulled some strings to get the best—”

  “We’re staying here.” His tone brokered no argument.

  “If that’s what you want?” Cherie asked.

  “It is.” Spencer pointed towards the living room. “After you, ladies.”

  They adjourned to the living room at his insistence. Gwen had never been able to say no to him. He was still every bit as commanding as when she’d known him. She plopped next to her sister on the plush, overstuffed, cream colored couch while he leaned against the fireplace mantel. Both women crossed their legs. Gwen tugged at the hemline of her frayed shorts.

  Spencer had his back to them and looked striking in a three-piece-suit. Her eyes devoured every inch. The expensive fabric accentuated his fine physical form. Under those layers of Italian linen… It didn’t matter. She had to stop drooling over her ex. Good-looking or not, this man was bad news. She diverted her eyes to the window and watched the sun disappear.

  “When did you arrive in the city?” he asked.

  “My sister surprised me this evening with her unannounced visit,” Cherie replied as she fiddled through her purse.

  “How long will you be here?”

  “Not long,” her sister answered for her again.

  “That’s a shame.” His statement lingered, and no one responded.

  This was awkward. Gwen shifted in her seat, wondering if it would be wrong to leave. She looked down at her clothes and wished she looked half as polished as her sister. They were in different leagues. And so was Spencer. He always had been. She chanced a glance at him and his eyes were on her. Her heart leapt into her throat.

  Damn those eyes.

  Chapter 2

  Lost in the sea of blue eyes, Gwen opened and then closed her mouth. Her mother had taught her to keep her yap shut if she had nothing nice to say. Keeping quiet was the only option in this scenario. Unable to look away, she bit her lip. A meteor could have landed on the couch next to her and she wouldn’t have been able to move a muscle. With their eyes locked, she was his captive.

  She never should have followed him into the room.

  “This evening has certainly taken a most unexpected turn,” he said, inching closer from across the room.

  Spencer Northcote had grown up. He stared at her intently. Her face heated under the scrutiny. Twenty-four years apart hadn’t changed him enough to stifle the appeal he exuded. All the years hadn’t dulled the longing or desire to be in his arms. A mix of love and hatred warred inside. The attraction was strong and swarmed around her like a hive of angry bees. It irritated her. Along with the unmistakable allure came the ache in her chest from a heartbreak that had never mended.

  “Unexpected for sure,” Cherie mumbled.

  Gwen had nothing to add. Why was she even sitting there?

  The intensity of his stare confused her. He seemed happy to see her. She didn’t feel the same. He was just a man. Nothing special. Okay, that was a lie. He hadn’t hung the moon, but his magnetism was out of this world. Unfortunately, good looks didn’t change the ugliness that existed on the inside. Nothing he could say would change the past, yet she waited with bated breath for him to speak. Say anything to end her torture.

  She squirmed in her seat. The need to leave continued to rise and her knees bounced uncontrollably. His eyes finally relinquished their hold, and she exhaled. Only, he didn’t look away. Those baby blues drifted down her face, lingering on her mouth. She almost remembered what it felt like to have his lips on her. She wondered if he remembered.

  Why would he? She’d meant nothing to him she reminded herself.

  The slow seduction of his gaze left her nowhere to hide. His focus dipped down her throat and over her chest. She tugged on the hem of her stained t-shirt and glanced at Cherie. Her sister ignored them and typed furiously on her phone as she chewed her plump painted lower lip. The color matched her dress, reminding Gwen how she had interrupted their night.

  “This is awkward. I should go,” she said, placing her hands over her knees to stop the shaking.

  Her eyes scanned the room, searching for a way out. This room had no more character than the entry. The condo looked more like a designer showroom than a home. It lacked personality and warmth. She didn’t want to be rude, but she couldn’t stay another minute.

  “You do speak. It doesn’t need to be awkward,” Spencer replied. His velvet voice lured her attention away from escape. “It’s great to see you.”

  He smiled, and her breath hitched. The years had been far too kind to him. Damn he was sexy. The silver at his temples really turned her on. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. The boyish good looks were replaced with male flawlessness.

  “Never thought our paths would cross again,” she admitted, biting back the smart retort that hovered on the tip of her tongue. It involved laying into him for being a royal asshole and breaking her heart. Her hands balled into fists. Nothing good would come from drudging up the past. This man had been the first to break her heart, but he wasn’t the last. There was a long list of heartbreakers.

  He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  She hardly believed it either. He stepped closer. Each step echoed through the quiet room. His feet stopped directly in front of hers.

  “We can do better than a strangers greeting,” he said, stretching his big hand towards her. His long fingers were inches from hers.

  Gwen didn’t take his offer. “A what? I don’t think—”

  His hand gripped hers and a shock wave of heat blasted through her system, catching her off guard. Spencer had always done things she hadn’t expected. A heartbeat later
, she was standing as his arms wrapped around her waist. Despite all the tears that followed their breakup, her libido spiked in his presence.

  Spencer Northcote hugged her, mashing their bodies together.

  She stiffened and then melted into his arms. He bent his knees, lowering his upper body and raking his hard chest against hers. Her nipples responded and there’s no way he missed it. She hated the way her body reacted to him. She closed her eyes, counting the seconds until he let her go.

  One thousand one.

  One thousand two.

  When their cheeks pressed together, her panties flooded with moisture. His hands inched along her spine and settled on the small of her back. He pulled her closer. A sheet of paper wouldn’t have fit between them. She scrunched her eyes tighter. The intimacy of the hug made her entire body shiver.

  One thousand five.

  One thousand seven.

  Dammit. She lost count. Afraid to move, her arms remained by her side. She couldn’t even catch her breath. She inhaled through her nose.

  A mistake.

  He smelled so good. Clean and manly. There was no overpowering cologne; just him. It had been a long time since she’d smelled anyone so delectable. It’s possible no one had ever smelled this good. An urge to rub herself against him rooted in her mind. Cherie stood and coughed, reminding her they weren’t alone.

  Thank the heavens her sister was there.

  He pulled away slowly and moved his hands to the exposed skin on her arms as he stepped back. “Much better. There’s no need to pretend we don’t know each other.” The cheeky grin made her want to smack him.

  “I’d rather we’d never met. I wish you weren’t here now,” she blurted.

  “Gwen,” Cherie shrieked. “Spencer is my… friend. I will not accept you being anything but cordial to my guest. If you can’t control yourself, you should leave.”

  Cordial? Was she for real? Gwen blinked a few times, trying to steady herself. It took every ounce of self-control to push back the rage threatening to boil over.

  Spencer let go of her arms. She glanced down, expecting to see burn marks seared into her skin. There was nothing. He ran his fingers through his thick mane of hair and stepped back.