Powerplay

by Heather B. Moore

  She lost her hold on her phone, and it went tumbling to the ground. But that was the least of her concerns. Nate’s face was turning bright red with the pressure that Jax had at the guy’s throat.

  “Easy, Jax,” another guy said, this one shorter, but broader than either man. He had to be Rocco.

  Meg had no doubt Rocco could take everyone out.

  “Don’t touch her, ever,” Jax ground out, oblivious to everyone but Nate.

  Nate tried to swallow, but it was more of a choke. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

  “It doesn’t matter who she is. You don’t ever grab a woman like that.”

  Nate’s eyes bulged. “It won’t happen again,” he rasped. “I swear.”

  “Jax,” Rocco said, landing a heavy hand on Jax’s shoulder. “You’re cutting off his air.”

  “I don’t give a shi—”

  “What’s going on?” someone else said.

  An older man had arrived on the scene, the coach Meg had seen on the ice.

  It didn’t take long for the coach to assess the situation. “Lay off, Jax, I’ll handle this.”

  Only then did Jax loosen his grip.

  Nate gulped for air, his face still red, but more from anger and embarrassment now. “Payback’s gonna suck,” he ground out as he scooped up his duffle and strode away.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Jax called out after him.

  “Dude,” Rocco said. “Wanna play for the Steers tomorrow night? I think that guy’s got your number.”

  Jax’s stormy gaze flicked to Meg, then over to the coach. “Sorry you had to witness that, Coach. But Nate was manhandling Meg.”

  Coach looked at Meg, his brows raised. “You okay?”

  Meg wasn’t sure she could talk, but somehow she managed. “I’m fine.” She bent and picked up her phone. It seemed to be in one piece, but she could examine it later.

  “You know there’s zero tolerance for violence off the ice,” Coach said, but his words held no reprimand.

  “I’ll gladly pay the consequences,” Jax said, his gray eyes stormy.

  Coach looked at Meg again, then back to Jax. “I think we can put this one behind us.” He clapped a hand on Jax’s shoulder. “I’ve got to sign out some of the kids. We’ll talk later.”

  Jax gave a brief nod.

  Coach strode off, and Jax looked over at Meg. “What did Nate say to you?”

  Meg swallowed. “He was just being cocky. Then he asked for my number, but I wouldn’t give it to him.”

  His jaw flexed. “Rocco, can you give us a minute?”

  “Sure thing, man,” Rocco said. He nodded to Meg. “Nice to meet you.”

  She opened her mouth, but no words came. Rocco strode away without giving her a chance anyway.

  Then it was just her and Jax in the portal.

  “Sorry about that,” Jax said. His voice was more even, and his eyes weren’t so wild looking.

  She wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for his or Nate’s behavior, but the adrenaline running through her had left her shaky.

  “Tell me what he said,” Jax said, his tone almost normal now.

  Meg slipped her phone in her bag, then ran her fingers through her hair. “He, uh, he asked who I was waiting for.”

  Jax’s eyes narrowed. She might as well tell him everything. There was obviously no love lost between the two teammates.

  Jax remained absolutely silent as Meg rehashed the conversation. “Then you came, and well, I think he got the message.” She hoped to see Jax soften, but there was no sign of it.

  “Look, I’m fine,” she continued. “I promise. Nate’s just a jerk, and I’m a bit out of my element here—with all these pro athletes around. Maybe I need to learn the lingo or something.”

  “There’s no lingo, and there’s no excuse for what he did.”

  Meg nodded, drawing in a shaky breath.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  This brought Meg up short. “Where are we going?”

  “Wherever you want,” he said, scanning her as if he was double-checking she hadn’t been harmed. His phone rang, and he looked at it. “Hang on.”

  While he answered, Meg’s mind spun. Jax was taking her out . . .? Had he been planning this since he saw her in the stands?

  “I’ll catch up with you, later,” Jax was saying. “You can tell the guys that something came up. I’ll see them on the ice when our teams play each other.”

  After he hung up, Meg said, “You had plans with your friends?”

  “They have plans,” he said. “Mine have changed.”

  Meg sighed. “I’m not going to come between you and your Northbrook team. How often do you guys get together?”

  Jax shrugged. “I saw them last month at a fundraiser. We’ve been together all day, though.”

  She couldn’t read the expression in his gray eyes, but she knew she’d feel guilty if he ditched his friends. They’d be leaving soon, and she . . . well, she was here. “Go with them. I’ve got some website stuff to do anyway that I’ve put off too long.”

  His brows drew together. “We could go eat, then you can do your website stuff.”

  “Really, I’m fine, Jax,” she said, placing a hand on his arm.

  He looked down at where she was touching him, then he met her gaze.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, at the game,” she said. “With my grandma.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. The spark in his gaze sent a warm shiver through hers. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, but I’m walking you to your car.”

  They headed out the exit nearest to the portal, which meant they weren’t intercepted, because a crowd of people had collected where several of the players were gathered by the concessions. It looked like the players were signing autographs.

  The wind had turned icy, and Meg folded her arms against the chill.

  “No coat?” Jax asked.

  “I left it in the car,” she said. “I didn’t think the arena would be so cold.”

  Jax shrugged out of his fleece-lined denim jacket.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, even as he set his jacket across her shivering shoulders. “My car’s just over there.”

  “You’re going to get sick if you don’t stay warm.”

  She eyed him in the Sabercats jersey. “What about you?”

  “I run hot,” he said. “Besides, I have a strong immune system.”

  This made Meg laugh, despite her shivering. “Oh, really?”

  “Really.” He was smiling, and this was a good thing.

  She was happy to have the Nate Rochester incident behind them.

  Meg dug out her key fob from her purse and clicked to unlock the doors of her car. “So that was your club coach?”

  “Oh, yeah, Hal Fenwick. Sorry I didn’t introduce you to each other.”

  They’d reached her car, and she turned to him. He stopped near the car, near her, his hands in his pockets.

  “Maybe another time,” she said as nonchalantly as possible. “Rocco seems nice.”

  Jax’s mouth quirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that adjective when it comes to Rocco. But maybe he’s only nice around the ladies.”

  “I can tell he’s a good guy.”

  Jax’s nod was slow, and he placed a hand on the hood of her car, bringing them closer together. “He’s a bit of a hothead, but I can overlook that most of the time.”

  Meg arched her brow.

  “What?” Jax scanned her face.

  Was he leaning toward her?

  “I think that’s a kettle calling a pot black,” she said.

  Jax’s mouth lifted into a half smile.

  She had the sudden urge to touch the beard on his face, just to see what it felt like. But she should probably get in her car right now. And give him back his jacket, because it reminded her of him. Warm and solid.

  “I think it’s the other way around,” Jax
said in a slow voice, his gaze moving to her mouth. “It’s a pot calling a kettle black.”

  “Whatever.”

  He chuckled, and she was pretty sure in that moment he was going to kiss her. In public. In a freezing cold parking lot.

  But someone honked a few rows down. Tires screeched, followed by another honk. Nothing like being plunged back to reality.

  “Thanks for the jacket,” Meg said, slipping it off and handing it over. “And good luck in your game tomorrow. My grandma and I will be cheering.”

  Jax took the jacket, but he didn’t move.

  Okay then. Meg turned and opened the car door.

  He held it as she climbed in.

  “See you soon, Meghan Bailey,” he said before she pulled it shut.

  She gave him a half wave through the window, then started her car. Without looking back she drove away. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened if no one had honked. And she didn’t want to think about the way Jax Emerson made her feel—like she was the only woman he saw—or how she found him intriguing and interesting. She wasn’t naïve. Jax could have his choice of women, amazing women, women who weren’t about to lose their business and women who knew how to blend into the world of pro sports.

  Jax rotated his neck as the national anthem keyed up. Then he stood stock-still, his gaze on the American flag. Nate had been watching him all during warmups, and Jax had completely ignored him. He had no problem taking things to the next level; he just wanted to know when and where.

  Jax would never forget the sickening feeling in his gut when he saw Nate grab Meg’s wrist, and the look of panic on her face. If Rocco hadn’t been there, Jax had no doubt he would have made Nate pass out at the very least.

  Clenching his jaw, Jax tried to focus on the soaring music and the triumphant words. No such luck. Tonight was a birthday party for Lucas, their goalie, but Jax would happily ditch it if Nate was planning on going too.

  And Jax had set up a meeting with the head coach tomorrow morning. It was time he got to the bottom of his contract.

  The only good thing about tonight was that they were playing Rocco’s team, the Wyoming Steers. Oh, and Meg and her grandma were in the stands. He’d have to meet her grandma after the game. Jax had thrown in a few more tickets, and Meg had invited the rest of her staff, and he could only guess the women sitting next to her dressed as if they belonged on a New York runway were the employees. Nashelle was also there, in her signature black with gobs of dark makeup making her look like a reincarnated vampire. Of course, he’d keep that observation to himself. The petite woman scared him a little.

  It should be a relatively good night, all things considered. Although the Steers were two steps ahead of the Flyers in the national standings, Jax planned to change that tonight.

  The lights in the arena dimmed, and spotlights sprouted all over the arena as music boomed through the complex. The announcer began to make player introductions against the backdrop of screaming fans, and the team skated onto the ice to wild cheers.

  After the thunderous announcing was over, Jax skated to his position, keeping Rocco in his line of vision. And since Rocco was right wing and Jax was left wing, they faced each other dead-on as the game whistle blew. Roof, the Flyers center forward, passed to Jax, and he dipped it backward to Nate. They might have had words yesterday, but they were still on the same team, although Jax would be ready for any cheap shot coming his way.

  It didn’t come yet, and Nate zigzagged to the side, edging past Rocco.

  The Flyers fans went wild, and the Steers goalie hugged the net.

  “I’m open, Nate,” Jax yelled.

  But Nate took the shot, and it glanced off the goalie’s pads.

  Jax would let this one go, but nothing more.

  Rocco took advantage of the Flyers’ distracting stomps, meant to mimic a herd of Wyoming steers, and zoomed past Nate and Jax, heading straight for the Flyers goal.

  Lucas was ready, though, knowing his work would be cut out for him tonight. He deflected the shot, and by the time Rocco circled around, Jax was in his way.

  Bones went to work, taking command of the puck, and Jax skated past three Steers toward the goal. One clipped his shoulder but not enough to alter Jax’s course.

  Bones passed to Corbie, and Jax yelled, “Open!”

  Corbie passed at an angle, so Jax only had to connect and change the direction a few degrees. The puck slipped beneath the Steers’ goalie’s knees just before he hit the ice.

  The arena erupted, and Jax grinned as he skated past Rocco. “That’s your first lesson,” Jax called out.

  Rocco’s expression didn’t change. The Rock was immovable on the ice, except when Jax was on a mission.

  Corbie slapped Jax’s helmet. “Nice job, man! Let’s do it again.”

  The game continued at a furious pace, neither team letting up. By the time the first period buzzer sounded, the Flyers were up by one. Nate had missed three shots on goal, and Bones had taken a pounding from a Steers player.

  The locker room break was a cacophony of congratulations and pep talk by Coach Lindon, but Jax stayed quiet, focused.

  His fresh jersey on, Jax headed back to the ice. He took a second to scan for Meg. Sure enough, she was there, in conversation with her grandma. The older woman looked like she was in hog heaven, wearing a Flyers jersey and holding a giant tray of nachos. Jax let a smile escape, but then it dropped when he saw his dad sitting three rows down. Why wasn’t he in his box seats?

  As usual, he had his cell phone to one ear while plugging his other ear with his finger. Probably some business call.

  “Excuse me,” someone said, then shoved past Jax so hard that he careened into the plexiglass.

  Nate didn’t look back.

  Jax bit back a curse and grabbed his hockey stick from the bench. The sooner Nate learned his manners the better, but they had a game to play right now.

  The second-period buzzer rang, and it seemed that the Steers had sucked down energy drinks during the break. Rocco was on fire. He scored four minutes in, and the arena groaned.

  “Shake it off, Lucas,” Jax called. “Stay focused.”

  “Do something,” Lucas retorted.

  Nothing to take personally, Jax knew, but that didn’t mean Lucas wasn’t frustrated. They all were. The game was tied up. Nate took ahold of the puck next, only to get slammed by Rocco.

  Nate spun and crosschecked Rocco.

  Big mistake. Rocco went down. The ref blew the whistle, but no one on either team heard it. Jax pulled Nate from Rocco, which Nate didn’t appreciate. The guy turned on Jax, fists flying.

  Jax shoved Nate backwards. He went skidding, but not before using his stick to undercut Jax’s legs. Jax fell to his knees, but by then Bones and Corbie had gotten between them.

  “Calm down,” Corbie shouted in Jax’s face.

  Jax turned and skated to the far side as the refs made their calls. Both Nate and Jax were sent to the penalty box.

  It was now four Flyers against six Steers. A two-man advantage for the wrong team.

  The arena had gone ballistic, calling insults to the ref for a bad call on Jax.

  He could only sit as far from Nate as possible and watch the clock.

  If there was a time for the Steers to score, this was it.

  And . . . by the time Jax skated out of the penalty box, the score was two to one, Steers leading.

  Nothing between him and Nate had changed. If anything, it had just put them more at odds with one another. But Jax would play the game out regardless.

  “Let’s go,” Jax called to Bones just as Corbie passed.

  Bones pivoted and passed to Jax, who, two seconds later, sent it back to Bones.

  “I’m open!” Nate called.

  But Jax ignored the jerk. And Bones knew better, so he passed once again to Jax, and this time he had a split-second window. He sent the puck high net, and it slammed into the top left corner.

  The cheers were deafening, but J
ax wasn’t done yet.

  Nate wouldn’t even look at him.

  And Rocco seemed he was about to put someone, anyone, in a chokehold.

  Jax could feel the game getting out of control. By the time the second-period buzzer rang, Corbie had been sent to the penalty box for tripping a Steer.

  Jax spoke to no one on the way back to the locker room. He took a quick shower in cold water, then dressed again. His head needed to stay focused. The game was tied up again, and that was unacceptable.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was back on the ice, ready for the final period.

  No one scored, at least for a while. No one made penalties. They were like circling wolves, and the fans were upset. Booing and yelling for the Flyers to do something, anything.

  Finally, Jax passed to Nate, giving him another chance.

  Nate pile drove into Rocco, but the beast of a man was ready. Rocco hooked Nate, preventing him from moving forward or backward, and the puck skittered free. Bones was on it in a second, and the ref’s whistle blew.

  Jax watched as Rocco was ordered to the penalty box. One man down, and now the Flyers had powerplay advantage for five long minutes.

  Nate looked over at Jax, and with the slightest nod, Jax knew they were once again teammates, however briefly.

  Rocco would rue the moment he’d caused a penalty, because Nate scored the next goal. Followed by Corbie. A four-to-two lead proved to be too iconic to make a comeback in the third period. And the clock counted down with fans shouting the numbers.

  As the entire arena leapt to their feet to celebrate, Jax tugged off his helmet and skated a lap around the ice, holding it high. The screams and yells were nice, but he was only looking for one person. His gaze slid over the women in the row he’d reserved, and then he saw her.

  Meg was standing up, clapping, a huge smile on her face. When their gazes connected, she waved, then blew him a kiss.

  He nearly lost his footing. Good thing the wall was next to him.

  The reporters had already crowded the players’ bench, and he knew he’d have to do his duty before he could change and put this game behind him. He skated over to where Sheila, a mainstay reporter for the Flyers, stood waiting in her heeled shoes and fitted business suit.