Shot on Goal: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 11)

by Jami Davenport

  “You love doing this, you know that, don’t you?”

  Drew nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Your face lights up, and you go after stuff like a bulldog. Don’t forget, I could use a guy like you. Whenever you decide to retire from hockey, I’ll have a job waiting here.”

  “Might be sooner than later,” Drew admitted.

  “You have a lot of good years left to play hockey, Deli. Don’t rush something you might regret.”

  Drew studied him for a moment. “I worry about another head injury. I don’t want to end up like some of those guys after twenty years in the game. I want to grow old and have great-grandkids. I don’t know if the risks are worth it for me.”

  “You might want to figure that one out.”

  “It’d be different if I lived for hockey like my dad and brother, but I don’t. I like it less and less every year. That injury last year was a wakeup call.”

  “That’s why I got out of the service. I thought I’d make a career out of it, but I’ve seen too much of the ugly side of this world. I want to take out the ugly on my terms, not based on plans drawn up by some guy at a desk somewhere who’s never been on the ground.”

  That was the most Bronson had ever said about why he’d gotten out of the military after ten years. He’d gone in at eighteen. Gotten out at twenty-eight after his team had run into some trouble. Drew didn’t know details, but he was certain they’d lost a few men. Before he could respond, Marina appeared at the door with a big pizza box, and he ran to grab it from her. He knew he looked like an anxious puppy greeting his owner after a long day of work, but he didn’t care. She was becoming an essential part of his life, and he didn’t want to let her go.

  Bronson had warned Drew she might not feel the same, but how would Bronson know in the short time he’d been around her. Bron was being his overly cautious self when it came to emotional entanglements.

  His heart sank at the possibility she might not feel the same, but he refused to give up hope. Nor could he give up hockey for Marina. He had to do everything for the right reasons, once he figured out what those reasons were.

  Chapter 17—Missed Shot

  The first two games of the conference finals were played in Seattle. In Game 1, Drew played like the Drew of old. In other words, he sucked, and the team lost, not because of him, but his performance didn’t help. He was frustrated with his game, not to mention sexually frustrated, which certainly didn’t help his game.

  Seeing Marina but not being able to touch her had him wound tight, which wasn’t helping his game any, either. He also missed his father, as odd as that sounded. His dad knew hockey and maybe Drew should’ve listen to his advice more.

  Something had to change.

  The team won Game 2, but Drew didn’t play any better. In the locker room, he ignored his celebrating teammates. He hadn’t contributed to the win, so he didn’t feel he had the right to be happy about it. After showering and dressing, he slid out the locker room door and stepped into the corridor, heading home to lick his wounds.

  Fuck.

  Be careful what you wish for.

  His father stood several feet away, alone. One apprising look confirmed his sobriety.

  He could tell by the disgusted look on his father’s face that Drew’s play hadn’t met Stafford’s expectations.

  “Hey, Dad, good to see you,” he said with sincerity. Like a beaten dog, he was still wagging his tail and hoping for a pat on the head rather than a kick in ribs.

  “Drew, I know junior hockey players that play better than you.” His father ran a hand through his hair in a gesture Drew often used himself when he was frustrated.

  “Thanks, I can always count on you to get right to the point. I missed you, too.” If his father heard the wistfulness in his son’s voice, he gave zero indication.

  Stafford’s eyes hardened, as if Drew’s admission made him weak somehow. In Stafford’s eyes, it probably did. Drew sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting for his father to make the next move. No apologies came from his lips, no explanation as to his absence, or interest in how his son was doing as a person. Sometimes Drew felt as if all Stafford cared about was Drew as a player and an extension of himself.

  “You need to up your game,” Stafford said.

  Drew sighed. He racked his brain for a response that might elicit a positive remark from his father.

  “I didn’t make any big mistakes. Didn’t cost the team a win.”

  “And that’s good enough for you? Is that how you measure success? Don’t you owe Dave more than that?” He rubbed his hands over his face as if he couldn’t bear looking at his remaining son. “You didn’t screw up so you’re happy with your piss-poor performance? Your play is mediocre, and you’re happy with that?” Stafford’s voice raised with each word, drawing concerned glances from players and staff as they exited the locker room.

  Drew glanced around, relieved reporters weren’t present to witness his father’s dressing down. It was bad enough his teammates were, but they’d seen it before.

  “No, I’m not happy with it. I’m in a slump.” Drew said the words so quietly his father had to lean forward to catch them.

  Stafford threw up his hands and shook his head. “I could help you if you’d swallow that stubborn pride.”

  “I guess we’re more alike than either of us want to admit.” Drew met his father’s gaze with an unwavering glare of his own. To his surprise, Stafford looked away first, but not before Drew saw a flash of fear and desperation in his eyes.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” He whipped around and stomped off, while Drew released the oxygen he’d been holding.

  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He needed to get to hell out of here. He strode down the tunnel to the parking garage. He reached for his car door when someone grabbed his hand. Annoyed, he glared into Marina’s sympathetic brown eyes. She must have witnessed the entire thing.

  “Need some company?”

  He opened his mouth to let her have it and take his frustrations out on her, only that wouldn’t be fair, and he wasn’t that much of an asshole. Without another word, she crossed to the other side and slid onto the passenger seat. He stood outside the car for a moment and got in.

  “I’m not sure I’m going to be great company right about now.” As much as he wanted to be with Marina, he wanted to be alone more.

  She shrugged. “You look like you could use a friend, and I’m here.”

  He didn’t answer and could tell by the determined glint in her eyes she wasn’t going away. He pulled out of the parking garage. He drove aimlessly for several minutes while Marina sat beside him in silence. Just having her next to him calmed him. His heart rate slowed, and he loosened his fingers clutching the steering wheel. Relaxing, he was grateful she’d joined him. He spent too much time alone, too much time in his own head. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed someone to care for him while not passing judgment. Her silent acceptance of who he was struck a chord deep inside him like no one else ever had.

  Finally, he pulled into the entrance of a Seattle waterfront park and pulled into one of many empty spots in the main lot. “Want to go for a walk? It’s a nice evening.”

  “I’d love to.” Her face lit up, and his heart thudded in response.

  Together they strolled along a walkway on water’s edge, not talking, just being in the moment. On an impulse, Drew reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. Hers was so small in his, and he liked the feeling. She made him believe his life could be better. All wasn’t hopeless.

  They stopped near a bench under a Madrona tree and sat, their thighs and hips aligned, her hand still in his. They shouldn’t be touching, shouldn’t be here alone, shouldn’t be tempting fate, but like star-crossed lovers, neither were able to resist.

  “There’s a shooting star,” he said, pointing with his free hand.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled up at the night sky. “Did you make a wish?”

  He t
hought for a moment and made a wish for his life to be simple and fulfilling and for Marina to be in it.

  “I did. Did you?”

  She winked at him. “Of course. What good would a shooting star be without a wish?”

  “Not much,” he agreed with a chuckle. He turned to face her at the exact time she did the same. Her face was only inches from his. She drew in a breath but didn’t retreat. With every ounce of his scarred being he needed her.

  Being together was so wrong. The timing was off. They should wait until he had his future straightened out.

  Only he wasn’t going to wait, and she wasn’t going to stop him. He kissed her before he fabricated one more argument, and once her lips touched his coherent thoughts were out of the question.

  He’d never in his life thought anything could feel this good. Kissing her was better than sex with any other woman, and sex with her was mind-blowing.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he responded by deepening the kiss until he was so lost in the feel of her mouth on his, all other thoughts and cares faded into oblivion. When he was with her, life was good, everything he’d ever wanted.

  He was greedy for more of this feeling he couldn’t describe or comprehend. Their mouths mated with raw desire and ancient need until he swore he’d explode if he couldn’t get more. He ran his hands under her Sockeyes polo shirt and up her ribs to her bra, until he felt her nipples pebbling under his fingers.

  She groaned, deep and throaty and sexy as fuck. He wanted to feel her skin against his in the worst way, consequences be damned. Once hadn’t been enough and had only whet his appetite for more.

  But not here.

  He had enough sense left to know they couldn’t have sex on a bench in a public park, but they could do it in his home, which was only minutes away.

  Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth from hers, sliding his lips across her cheek before he finally broke contact.

  “Drew,” she whispered, gazing up at him with dilated, unfocused eyes.

  “Marina.” He smiled down at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not here.”

  “No, not here.” She blinked a few times and looked around as if getting her bearings. Her eyes opened wide in horror, and she leaped to her feet, hugging herself and putting distance between them.

  He wasn’t taking her home.

  He swallowed his disappointment, knowing it was for the better. They needed to get through the playoffs before anything happened between them, for the good of Marina’s career and reputation. He didn’t care much about himself, but he did hers.

  “Please, I need to go.”

  “OK.” He was careful not to touch her as they walked toward the car, even though the distance between them was killing him.

  “I’m sorry,” he offered weakly as he opened the passenger door for her.

  She smiled up at him, but it was stiff. “No need to be sorry. I wanted it as much as you.”

  “Yeah, well, I started it.”

  “We can’t do this, Drew. We have to control ourselves. Yeah, we’re attracted to each other, but this can’t happen again.”

  He knew that. He also knew they’d have a hell of a time stopping themselves next time. “We need make sure we’re not alone.”

  She nodded.

  A few minutes later he dropped her off at her apartment and waited until she was safely inside. With a sigh, he drove home to his big, lonely house.

  * * * *

  The next day the team flew to Nashville for two games. Drew hung out with the guys at dinner. Marina was nowhere to be found. Thoughts of last night and how close they’d come to sleeping together again distracted him.

  He had to see her. Once again, he managed to finagle the desk clerk for her room number. He snuck down the hallway, looking left and right. He rapped lightly on the door. The other staff would be housed nearby.

  “Who is it?” Marina asked.

  “Me. Let me in before someone sees me,” he hissed, keeping his voice low and hoping she could hear him.

  “Go away, please. This isn’t a good idea.”

  “I can’t. I need to see you.”

  “You can see me at the arena for morning skate.”

  “No, I need to see you now.” He raised his voice slightly, hoping she’d open the door just to shut him up. He waited impatiently, keeping one eye on the hallway.

  The door swung open, and she pulled him inside.

  “What are you doing?” she said, hands on hips and glaring. He almost laughed. Despite her attempt to be perturbed, her gaze dropped to the bulge clearly obvious under his sweatpants.

  “This.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. She gasped, grabbed handfuls of his hair, and kissed him back.

  Hallelujah. She wasn’t going to kick his ass out. Her body wanted him as much as his body wanted her.

  “I couldn’t stand another night away from you.” Panting, he dragged his mouth from her lips to her earlobe and down to her neck, where he nipped and nibbled on the sensitive skin. She loved having her neck kissed. It’d been one of the first things he’d learned once they’d gotten naked. She angled her head, giving him better access. Her throaty moan and cries made him harder than a hockey puck.

  He backed her up to the edge of the bed and gently pushed her onto it. She was wearing silky pajamas with buttons up the front. They might not be sexy by most men’s standards, but he loved them. Her nipples were visible through the thin fabric, and he liked that view as well.

  “Drew, we can’t. This is all kinds of wrong.” She moaned and tossed her head back and forth on the duvet as he went to work unbuttoning those buttons and pushing her PJ top aside.

  “How can it be wrong when I play better after I’ve been with you? Consider it for the good of the team.”

  “Drew—”

  He bent and sucked a nipple into his mouth, silencing her protests. He ran the palm of his hand down her ribs to her flat belly and slid it beneath her elastic waistband. Her legs fell apart, and he knew he had her where he wanted her. He slipped a finger inside her warm wetness and pushed deep and upward. Finding her clit with his thumb, he played with it. Her hips rose off the bed, forcing him deeper. He grinned and finger fucked her until she came.

  He watched her come, watched her fall apart, and couldn’t wait any longer. Fishing a condom from his pocket, he set it aside and yanked off his clothes, while she lazily watched him, though her eyes were bright with need.

  Once he was naked, he removed her bottoms and feasted his eyes on her naked body. “Now what were you saying about this being a bad idea?”

  “I give up.” She gifted him with that sassy smile he adored. “I was saying it’s a bad idea for you to stop.”

  “Ahhh.” He rolled the condom onto his rock-hard dick and slid inside her welcoming heat.

  “Shit, you feel so good.”

  “I know,” she shot back.

  “Brat.”

  “You love it.”

  “I’m going to make you scream my name.”

  Her eyes flashed with concern. “Not a good idea. Kaley is next door. She could hear us.”

  “Kaley won’t care. At least Ethan isn’t next door.”

  “He’s upstairs. Penthouse.” She gasped, stopped talking, and started whimpering as Drew thrust inside her, claiming her for his own, branding his name on her heart like she’d branded hers on his. They came together in a rush of blissful insanity, minds blown by how good it was.

  Drew rolled onto his side and cuddled her next to him.

  “I’m not giving you up this time.”

  She didn’t respond for a long time, which alarmed him.

  “Marina, I can’t lose you. We’ll figure this out.”

  She nuzzled his chest and sighed. “I want to believe that.”

  “You have to. Once the playoffs are over, we’ll craft a solution.”

  “There isn’t a solution that involves both of us working for the team.”

  “It work
ed for Ethan and Lauren,” he pointed out.

  “Ethan is a billionaire and owns the team. He can do as he pleases. Who’s going to question him? We don’t have that power.”

  “Let’s not worry about it. We can keep this thing between us a secret until the season ends.”

  “Live in the moment?” she asked.

  “Exactly.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “This is crazy. People will find out.”

  “No, they won’t. Not if we’re careful.”

  “Drew, we can’t—”

  “Marina, I can’t stay away from you. It’s killing me.”

  “It’s killing me, too, but I don’t want to betray the team that gave me a chance when no one else would.”

  “Don’t shut me out. Please, I need you. The next several weeks are going to be tough, but I can get through them if I know you’re at my side.”

  She was wavering. He saw the indecision in her eyes. She was warring with herself and with her basic sense of decency. He understood, but he wasn’t going to be deterred.

  “Think of it this way. The team needs me playing my best. I play my best when I’m with you.”

  “You want me to sleep with you for the good of the team.”

  “Yeah, for the team.”

  She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “When you put it that way, how can I resist?”

  Chapter 18—All the Edges

  She should’ve resisted, but Marina wasn’t strong enough to resist her handsome hockey player with the dazzling smile, sad eyes, and rocking body. They snuck into each other’s rooms for the next few nights, and she stayed overnight at his house when they returned home. Ever cautious, she parked her car down the street or left it home and got a ride with him.

  None of the staff or team appeared suspicious, and Drew’s play had definitely improved. What was a girl to do? She couldn’t cut him off now, even if she wanted to, not when he was playing up to his potential.

  The Sockeyes lost both away games in the Conference Finals and returned to Seattle tied at two games each, despite Drew having good games and scoring in each one. Unfortunately, the first line wasn’t playing well. They were out of sync, and Cave was struggling under the pressure.