WILD ZONE, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel

by Skye Jordan

  Her dress, a loose, thin slip of silky material, helped his hands slide over her effortlessly, enhancing every dip and curve. And while his tongue explored her mouth, his hands memorized her body.

  She broke the kiss for air. “Is the night over yet?”

  “God you smell like heaven.” He slid both hands up her back and over her bare shoulders. “Can’t end soon enough for me. I’m dying to get you alone. But I love watching you work. I love watching you impressing the hell out of everyone.”

  She sighed and smiled. “You’re the only one I want to impress.”

  “You accomplished that the day we met.” He stroked her face. “Hey, are we keeping this thing with us, you know, under the radar? I mean, we never talked about it and I didn’t even think to bring it up until we were already here, surrounded by both our families. That all kind of happened fast.”

  She laughed. “Everything with us has happened fast.”

  The insinuation in those words zinged a thrill through his chest. “Everything between us is fucking lightning.”

  “Yeah.” Her response was joy filled and dreamy and threatened to make Tate’s head light. “I think your dad’s clued in and Quinn knows, but my mom…” She released a heavy breath and winced. “We’re still at odds, and I could see her making a fuss. Thinking I’m tarnishing her reputation by cavorting with a client.” She grinned and met his eyes. “Even though we were cavorting before you were a client.”

  “I love the way you say cavorting.”

  She laughed. “I love the way you cavort.”

  And then kissed him again, and Tate let himself get lost another minute. Her mouth was so soft, so warm, so expressive. When they pulled back, a hot little smile lifted her mouth and her hands stroked down his chest. She pulled away enough to slide her hands between their bodies and all the way down the front of his until she covered his hardening cock. Pleasure surged through his lower body and his eyes slid closed on a groan.

  “I wish I had time to cavort right now,” she whispered.

  “Baby, you’re going to make this night seem endless.”

  “Already there.” She pressed another sweet kiss to his lips. “I better check the oven.”

  “My place tonight?” he asked, pretty sure that was the plan, but still praying she said yes.

  “You won’t find me anywhere else.”

  Tate couldn’t stop smiling as he followed her out of the pantry. With his arm around her waist, he snuck in one last kiss to her neck. She giggled then stopped short and sucked back her laughter.

  Oh shit.

  The thought registered a split second before alarm buzzed Tate’s stomach. He looked up and found Mia standing in the kitchen, obviously looking for someone. Then he recognized the Rough Riders’ jersey in her hand, and knew she’d come looking for Olivia. But Mia’s sharp, surprised, questioning gaze held on Tate.

  “Well, hi there,” Olivia moved away from Tate, going straight to the oven and pulling a tray from the rack. She smiled at Mia again, but Mia was still busy giving Tate a what-the-fuck glare. Still, Olivia said, “Mia right? Rafe’s fiancé?”

  Mia turned her gaze on Olivia, seemed to assess another moment, then smiled. A little.

  She was definitely not Joe.

  “Yes,” Mia said, obviously unsure how to feel about this revelation.

  “Hey,” Tate said, wishing he had something to hide behind to cover the hard on Olivia had kicked up in the pantry. Since he didn’t, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “What’s up?”

  Olivia used serving spoons to toss what looked and smelled like chicken wings in the sauce they’d been basting in, poured them into a dish and garnished them.

  “I was just coming in to—“ Mia said.

  Quinn bounced into the kitchen with empty trays in her hands and stopped beside Mia, her face bright with excitement. And she was wearing one of Mia’s jersey’s. Quinn had worn gauzy black pants and a floral tank to the party, and Mia’s design looked great on her.

  “Look what Mia gave me.” Quinn held her arms out, then turned and used one hand to sweep her hair from the back, where Rough Riders was emblazoned in an arc across the shoulders. “Isn’t it adorable? She makes these. A whole line of them for the Rough Riders and she’s branching out with six more NHL teams next year. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Olivia’s smile was bright and genuine. “Oh my God. That is adorable. And very exciting. Congratulations.”

  Mia seemed to relax a little, which helped Tate ease back from his defense position. “Thank you.”

  Olivia took the empty trays from Quinn and handed her the bowl of hors d'oeuvres, saying, “Honey lime sesame chicken wings.”

  “Got it.” Quinn held Olivia’s gaze. “I thought maybe Mia’s expansion plan could help mom understand the whole big picture planning thing.”

  “Ah, great idea.” Olivia nodded. “You always were the smart one.”

  Quinn gave a superior smirk. “Well, one of us had to be pretty, may as well have been you.”

  Since they were identical, that was freaking hilarious. Even Mia laughed and Tate felt the tension in the room ebb.

  When Quinn left for the deck, Olivia told Mia, “That was sweet of you. Your whole family is so amazing.”

  Mia held up the jersey in her hand. “I brought one for you, too. It’s a different style. I heard you were twins, so I figured they should be a little different.”

  “Oh…” Olivia stopped what she was doing, her eyes sliding over the jersey. “Oh, Mia…” She ran her hands under the sink and dried them before touching the jersey, holding out the bottom while Mia held the top. It was one of Mia’s best selling styles and Tate knew from seeing it on models that Olivia would look sexy as hell in it. “Wow, this is, this is too nice to be considered a jersey.”

  “That was the idea.”

  “You make these?” Olivia met Mia’s gaze. “For a company? Or…?”

  “My own company. A huge risk and even bigger leap of faith,” she darted a look at Tate, “but I think it was worth it.”

  He smiled, nodded. “Agreed.”

  Olivia took the jersey, holding it up. “I can’t wait to wear it.” She flashed a smile at Tate. “I’ll wear it tomorrow when Joe and I come watch you and the boys.” She hesitated and her excitement faltered. “If…that’s okay.”

  Fuckin’ A. The woman kept sending him head over ass down a hill. Tate grinned. “I think that’s great.”

  Olivia turned it around, looking at both sides.

  Mia crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the counter, assessing them. “It has the generic Rough Riders on the back, “ she met Tate’s gaze directly, “but maybe she needs one with Donovan across the shoulders.”

  Tate’s heart flipped. Olivia wearing his name, sitting with his dad, watching him teach his kids. Could life get any more fucking perfect?

  Yes. It could—she could live in DC, not Paris. She could be his—long term, not for only another week.

  Olivia’s gaze lifted to Mia’s, then jumped to Tate’s.

  Tate met her eyes. “I’ll leave that up to Olivia.”

  He tried to pull up some barriers in anticipation of her back peddling from what some women—including Lisa—had viewed as ownership as opposed to support.

  Olivia’s smile was excited and immediate. “Oh, I’d love one with—“ She stopped short and looked at Mia. “I mean, not if it’s any more trouble. Because I love this one. It’s fabulous.”

  Mia grinned and shook her head. “No trouble. I have some in the car.” She glanced at Tate as she pushed off the counter. “I’m a good sister like that. Be right back.”

  Olivia’s mouth was still hanging open when Mia walked out. “Oh, shit.” She hung her head. “Your sister?” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Your sister just caught us in the pantry?”

  Tate laughed, stepped close and wrapped Olivia in a hug. “No, she caught us coming out of the pantry. And believe me, baby, she ain’t got no room to say noth
in’ about sneaking around.”

  10

  Tate found it ridiculously hard to leave Olivia alone to work. Especially with all the new thoughts running through his head and the new feelings storming around his body.

  He wandered out onto the deck where Beckett’s family and friends and teammates spread across the covered porch or kids played out in the big grass-covered yard. Joe was perched on the edge of a chair chatting with a group at the far end of the deck. Mia was sitting on Rafe’s lap nearby. Teresa continued to talk up guests, refill wineglasses and pick up the occasional plate while Quinn offered guests the latest morsel from the kitchen.

  “Donovan.” Beckett sat on the steps leading from the deck to the yard along with three other Rough Riders. “We’re trying to pick a date for the guys’ weekend.” Tate started that direction with Beckett saying, “Can you believe it’s been five years?”

  “Not for all of us,” Andre said in his thick Russian accent. He’d joined the team two years before.

  “Thank you,” Isaac added, who’d been a Rough Rider for three years.

  Beckett, Grant, Isaac and Andre were all looking at their phones. Tate leaned his back against the pillar on the deck.

  “Let me rephrase,” Beckett said, “five years for the important members of this illustrious club.”

  A few choice taunts moved through the group.

  Beckett looked up from his phone. “Where’s Eden? Eden,” he yelled at his fiancé across the backyard. “Your calendar didn’t sync with mine.”

  “Yeesh.” Grant shook his head. “That’s gotta be ugly. NHL player and paramedic with a six year old?”

  Beckett chuckled. “I’d juggle fuckin’ balls of flame for those girls.”

  Olivia stepped out onto the deck, instantly capturing all Tate’s attention. Her arms were loaded with more trays of hors d'oeuvres and she wandered from group to group, serving and chatting. God she looked gorgeous. No different than any other day, just, man, she was radiant. Her hair, her skin, her smile.

  Her sweet little slip of a dress was soft navy with a small floral pattern distributed over the bottom of the skirt and bodice, two thin spaghetti straps on each shoulder. And all he could think about was how good she felt underneath.

  “Dude, you’re drooling,” Isaac’s comment drew Tate’s gaze. “Stop ogling the hottie and check your calendar.” To the other guys, he said, “I’m free pretty much all summer. Give me a date and I’ll block it out.”

  “She and her sister are very beautiful,” Andre said, glancing at Olivia, then back at his phone, “but beautiful woman, they bring problem. Headache for sure. I know. My Nika…” And he started speaking Russian. But the emphasis with which he said the words conveyed a message that made all the men laugh.

  “I can hear you,” Nika sang from the bottom step where she sat playing with her two-year-old son Dmitri.

  “I can’t do anything the first part of July,” Grant said. “Faith and I are spending the fourth in North Carolina and we’re making some improvements on the store.”

  Grant’s girlfriend, Faith, owned her family hardware store in the hometown where she and Grant grew up. While Faith was more of a do-it-yourselfer guru on YouTube and talk show segments now, she still ran the store remotely, and they took frequent trips there in the summer.

  “Count me out for the last half of August,” Beckett said. “Lily starts school and we’ll have to go back to school shopping.”

  A collective groan rose through the group, making Beckett smile.

  Tate took another sip of his beer just as Olivia untangled herself from the firefighters Eden had invited from her station, men who’d honed in on Olivia and Quinn as soon as they’d arrived and hadn’t stopped flirting since.

  Which was probably just another day in the life of Olivia and Quinn Essex. Which made Tate wonder if he wanted to tackle the bi-continental, barely-seeing-each-other-eight-months-of-the-year relationship idea.

  Olivia turned away from the four firefighters still talking to her as she walked away, laughing and shaking her head. With one tray left, she scanned the porch until her gaze found Tate’s. She smiled and started directly toward him. His heart flipped, and he couldn’t stop from returning her smile.

  “Yo, Donovan.” Isaac’s voice yanked Tate’s attention back to the group.

  “What?”

  “When are you going to Ontario?”

  “I leave right after the banquet and I’ll be gone three or four weeks.” He returned to watching Olivia. “Go ahead and schedule. I’ll come if I can.”

  Isaac followed his gaze. “Bro, she’s not a good bet for you.”

  Grant glanced that direction, then returned his gaze to his phone with a distracted, “Unless you want to fight those brawny firefighters for her.”

  “Who’s hungry?” Her gaze never left Tate’s.

  “Me, me, me,” Grant said before he even looked to see what she was offering. Prying his gaze from his phone, he twisted and reached for mushrooms lining the tray. “Whatcha got here?”

  “Caprese-Stuffed Garlic Butter Portobellos,” she answered.

  “Oh my God,” he took one along with a napkin. “Can you come teach my wife-to-be how to cook” — his gaze jumped to Olivia’s face and he grinned — “and not tell her I said that?”

  Olivia laughed and asked, “What’s this about fighting the brawny firefighters?”

  Grant’s expression turned guilty, and he quickly stuffed his mouth with the mushroom so he couldn’t answer. Which made Olivia laugh.

  “Tate’s thinking about—” Isaac started.

  Tate kicked his shin.

  “Ow,” he laughed and scooted away as he reached for a big mushroom cap from the tray, met her eyes and said quickly, “Fighting them for you.”

  Tate lunged for Isaac, but he’d anticipated the move and escaped his reach. He gave Isaac an I’ll kill you later look, then darted a look at Olivia. “Sometimes they forget how old they are.”

  She laughed and stepped closer to Tate. “Well, I’m glad you don’t. Because that would be a complete waste of time.” With the tray in one hand she ran her hand from his shoulder to his elbow. “You’d take them without even breaking a sweat. Besides,” she slid her free arm around Tate’s waist and leaned into his side, meeting the gazes of the men around the circle. “Tate’s already got me, hook, line and sinker.” Then she smiled up at him. “Those cocky kids aren’t worth a second thought.”

  Right then and there, he knew—he was officially in love with this woman.

  And what the fuck was he going to do now?

  “Thanks, baby,” he murmured.

  She offered the tray of appetizers to Beckett. “Can I leave these in your capable hands? I want to put some finishing touches on Lily’s cake.”

  “Got it.”

  She glanced around the circle, “Dinner in about twenty minutes, gentlemen.”

  Then she sent one more smile Tate’s way before she swayed into the house. And Tate could hear his fuckin’ heartbeat in his ears. Christ, she’d just flipped his world upside down.

  “Wait.” Grant was frowning at different members of the group. “Doesn’t she live in Paris? Dude, are you seeing her? Or is she just coming on to you?”

  This was where it got dicey.

  When he didn’t answer immediately, everyone read it for what it was.

  “Tate, man,” Grant said, “You’re dating a woman who looks like that and lives in Paris? I mean, believe me, I see the appeal, but after what you’ve been through?”

  “Shut up,” Isaac said. “Who cares where she lives? I’d do that no matter—”

  “Don’t.” Tate’s bark cut into Isaac’s careless words.

  Isaac put his hands up. “Hypothetical, man. I was just sayin’ you should totally getting some.”

  “Jesus Christ, Hendrix,” Beckett said to Isaac. “Just stop talking. You always make it worse.”

  Tate didn’t want to be here anymore. He pushed off the pillar. “I’m
gonna go hang out with the fun crowd.”

  He jogged down the stairs toward the kids on the swing set.

  Tate stared at the lush lawn beneath his feet, grinding his teeth. He wasn’t as mad about what Grant and Isaac had said as he was about the truth of their words. If Tate were advising a friend in his own situation, he’d have the same reaction as Grant. The idea of trying to hold onto her, onto whatever this was between them, after knowing her for such a short amount of time based on great sex was one thing. But doing that while she was in Paris, when her lifestyle overseas where men was concerned was admittedly open and casual?

  No. Even the thought of another man touching her made Tate’s head buzz with anger. Worse, the thought of her wanting another man made him see red.

  “Stop, stop, stop.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to pull himself out from the lingering darkness that obviously hadn’t fully cleared from Lisa’s betrayal. He’d never been like this before Lisa. Never been a jealous guy. Which was probably why it had taken him so long to see the signs with Lisa.

  “Uncle Tate.” Lily’s call lifted his spirits and dragged him from the pit. “Push me high, push me high.”

  “Me too,” Amy and Rachel called in unison.

  He got behind the girls and took turns getting them all up to speed as twilight turned to night. The cool air and the girls’ laughter helped Tate decompress and shake off the ugliness. He was going to have to face this and get over it. If not now, with Olivia, eventually with someone else. He couldn’t have a good relationship with any woman if the fear of cheating was always lingering on his mind.

  Mia strolled toward him across the grass.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

  She wandered behind the swing set and took over pushing Rachel. “So. You and the caterer.” She glanced his way. “How long has that been going on?”

  “Not long, and I don’t need any more crap over it either.”