by Kat Mizera
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Tropical Ice
Kat Mizera
Contents
About the Book
Message from Roxanne St. Claire
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
More Books by Kat Mizera
About the Book:
Garrett “Hawk” Hawkins may be a bad boy in the rink but he doesn’t know what to do when he’s wrongly accused of on-ice misconduct. Given a five-game suspension by the NHL, he heads down to Mimosa Key to lay on the beach for a few days and get his head on straight—until he runs into a troubled beauty who happens to be the sister of his ex-teammate.
Madison Teller is struggling to get past the trauma of her brother's brutal attack, but her much-needed vacation is turning into a nightmare. The sexy tattooed stranger who saves the day is just the distraction she's looking for, but she isn’t prepared for the way he makes her feel.
When his present collides with her past, they’ll have to learn to trust each other before both their hearts end up on ice.
Message from Roxanne St. Claire
Dear Reader:
Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of Tropical Ice. This book is entirely the work of Kat Mizera, a terrific talent who has built a loyal fan base for her hockey romances.
Wait…what? A hockey romance in Barefoot Bay? Yes! Even hockey players need a little sunshine sometimes. And when they are in the hands of an author this skilled, the steam rises from the beaches of Barefoot Bay. I am confident readers are going to fall for this bad boy hero and love this fun and sexy story that will melt your heart.
Roxanne St. Claire, the creator of Barefoot Bay
PS. If you’re interested in the rest of the Barefoot Bay Kindle World novels or would like to explore the possibility of writing your own book set in my world, visit www.roxannestclaire.com for details!
Chapter 1
Worst. Vacation. Ever.
Listening to the couple in the motel room next door having sex for the last two hours had Madison Teller ready to jump out of her skin.
“Harder, baby! Harder!”
This nonsense had been going on for too long and Maddie pulled the pillow over her head in frustration.
“Oh, yeah, that’s it!”
B-bang! Bang! B-bang!
The headboard of the bed in the adjoining room was either going to become the next drummer of some sadistic-sounding techno-rock band or bust through the walls in an explosion of wood, metal and body parts. Maddie hugged the pillow tighter over her ears, but there was no escaping the sound.
B-bang! Bang-bang-bang! Bang!
“Shut up!” she yelled, finally sitting up and pounding on the wall.
“Piss off, you old prude!” someone yelled back.
With a sigh of resignation, Maddie looked at the time. 5:05. Way too early to get up on vacation, but absolutely nothing had gone right so far, making this par for the course. She’d just arrived in Florida yesterday, but she already wanted to go home. Her best friend had bailed on their trip, she’d missed the connection on her flight, her suitcase was floating around in airline limbo somewhere, she’d managed to lose two hundred dollars cash, and this hotel was definitely not “clean and safe,” as the website noted.
Padding into the bathroom, she quickly washed up and pulled on a pair of clean shorts and a T-shirt, grateful her mother had instilled the importance of putting a change of clothes in your carry-on bag. She slid her feet into flip-flops, threw everything in her backpack and took a cursory look around. It didn’t appear she’d left anything behind, so she gripped the keys to her rental car in her hand and stomped out the door. She was so done with this vacation.
Garrett “Hawk” Hawkins stared up at the filthy, mottled ceiling in disgust. This place was a pimple on the asshole of society and just being here gave him the heebie-jeebies. What the hell was he doing in Florida, by himself, in the middle of hockey season? Well, technically the season had just started a couple weeks ago, and here he was cooling his jets with a five-game suspension, a $10,000 fine and too much time to think. He’d never been good at playing the role of boy scout, but this time it had fallen into his lap and somehow it had just been easier to take the punishment than fight for the truth. Then his coach had told him to get out of town, go somewhere to recharge, think about his life—and his choices. Like an idiot, he’d gone to see his parents in Naples. When that turned into an epic mistake, he’d headed for the beach. Somehow, he wound up at this fleabag hotel just outside of Mimosa Key, Florida. He’d been to the beautiful island before, on a trip with his ex. She’d booked them into a swanky place called the Casa Blanca Resort & Spa, and though he’d been loath to go, he had to admit it was great. Clean, spacious suites, the gulf, and most importantly, discretion. As a professional athlete, he was willing to pay three or four times what other places cost if he knew he would have privacy.
Unfortunately, after storming out of his mom and stepdad’s house and driving around for a while, his phone died, he was starving and needed to get some sleep. He’d pulled into a diner and spotted this hellhole of a motel across the street. He’d figured a few hours of shut-eye, a shower and a full charge on the battery of his phone would allow him to call the resort and see if they could accommodate him for a few days until he had to get home. He’d gotten friendly with one of the owners, Clay Walker, and planned to give him a call in the morning. It was just that morning was taking forever to get here.
He was just about to doze off when the alarm from his rental car blasted through the air, jolting him awake. With a growl, he hauled to his feet, grabbed his keys and burst out the door in nothing but his jeans. It was only his lightning-fast reflexes that kept him from bowling over the wisp of a woman with an oversized backpack that roared
“My car! Get away from there, you no-good, filthy scum-of-the-earth pieces of—” Her voice faded as she hit the stairs and pounded down them.
Surprise made Hawk hesitate, but then he was right behind her, his long legs taking the stairs three at a time to catch her just as she reached the bottom, the string of expletives and insults getting louder and more raucous as she went. He saw the thug in the parking lot reach into his pants just as the woman stepped into the open, and he snaked out an arm to grab her by the backpack right as the first shot bounced off the concrete wall to their left. As pieces of plaster scattered and more shots were fired, Hawk instinctively pushed the woman to the ground, covering her with his larger body.
He could feel her tremble against him, one hand somehow reaching out to squeeze his bicep. She had a hell of a grip, but he barely noticed as adrenaline surged through him and he kept an eye out for anyone approaching.
As another shot resulted in more plaster showering them with dust, he looked down at the woman beneath him. Though her eyes were wide with undeniable terror, he couldn’t help but notice they were beautiful. Big and brown, with eyelashes so long they disappeared up into her eyebrows—and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She had a pert little nose above the reddest lips he’d ever seen, and he had to resist the urge to taste them. She was stunning, he thought, and the feel of soft curves beneath him wasn’t bad either. He forced himself to focus on the men out in the parking lot because he wasn’t sure how he would protect her if those guys came into the stairwell to find them. Fortunately, he heard scuffling footsteps and then the roar of an engine as tires skidded on the pavement and they drove away.
Neither of them moved for several minutes, their breath coming in short little puffs as the shock and excitement began to fade. Hawk was used to it; life as a professional athlete presented far too many opportunities to be in difficult situations. The young woman beneath him, however, had now started to shake, her grasp on his bicep slowly loosening and her soft voice breaking the silence.
“W-w-were…th-those…gun…shots?”
“Yeah.” He spoke gruffly, trying to hide the fear that was now replacing his survival instinct. He managed to get to his feet, reaching out a hand to help her though he was scowling now. “What did you think you were doing?”
“W-what?” She blinked up at him, huge brown eyes filling with tears.
“You don’t just run into a parking lot full of gangbangers! What the hell were you thinking?!”
“I…my car…I couldn’t…” She blinked a few more times, those impossibly long eyelashes fluttering as tears began leaking out the sides of her eyes.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered, reaching out to hug her to his chest. Which he then realized was still bare. She must have noticed it too because he felt the exact moment that her tears started to subside and awareness began to set in. She stiffened slightly, and then gently pushed at him to extricate herself.
“Sorry,” she whispered, swiping at her eyes and taking a shaky breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You ever been shot at before?” he asked, his steely gray eyes finding hers pointedly.
“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t even… This really is the worst vacation ever.” She blew out a frustrated breath as color began returning to her pale face.
“You’re on vacation…here?” He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.
She made a face. “I was supposed to be over at the Casa Blanca Resort & Spa on Mimosa Key but my friend cancelled on me and I couldn’t afford the room on my own. The flight was non-refundable, though, so I found alternative accommodations and came anyway, figuring I could drive over to Mimosa Key every day and at least lie on the beach. Unfortunately, day one has been spectacularly underwhelming!”
“This is a terrible neighborhood. You shouldn’t be at a place like this!”
“I was trying to salvage my vacation and when I booked this hotel online, it didn’t seem that bad!”
“You get what you pay for, darlin’.” He shook his head. “We should go back inside.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to the airport to see if I can change my flight and go home.”
“That’s not a bad idea if this place is your only option.” He paused. “If you give me a minute to put on a shirt and shoes, I’ll walk out with you to see if they did any damage to your car.”
She seemed ready to protest but then nodded. “Okay, yes. Thank you.”
“Walk with me,” he said gently, noting that her hands were still shaking. “What’s your name?”
“M-Mad-Madison.” She took a deep breath. “I guess I’m more shaken up than I thought.”
“I’m H—er, Garrett. Walk with me, Madison. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Following him back to his room, Maddie felt a moment of trepidation. Yes, he’d just saved her life but now that she got a good look at him, he was kind of scary too. He needed a shave and his torn-up, faded jeans made him look like a combination of homeless and a criminal. He had a strange, modified mohawk-style haircut that was growing out and sticking up. It gave him the look of someone who should be auditioning for a 1980’s punk rock music video. Except bigger. He was huge, probably a foot taller than she was, and built like the side of a mountain. Muscles for days, she thought, watching his broad shoulders and very nice backside as she walked behind him. She could sink her teeth into a butt like that and—. She mentally rolled her eyes, chiding herself for looking at his body when he could probably turn around and snap her neck without a second thought.
He just saved your life, she reminded herself. Looks were deceiving and she shouldn’t judge him simply because he had weird hair, too many tattoos and big muscles.
He unlocked the door and let her walk in before him. Instead of shutting and locking the door, he simply let it close on its own and grabbed a T-shirt out of a backpack strangely similar to hers. He pulled on socks and slid his feet into a pair of Converse sneakers, before motioning to the bathroom. “I’m going to grab my stuff and we’ll get out of here, okay? I just need a minute.”
He disappeared through the small doorway and Maddie suddenly felt chilled despite the heat and humidity. It was October, but the summer heat was still raging here in Florida. Back home in Toronto it was fall, with crisp, cool days and nights that required a jacket. She unexpectedly missed it, the urge to go home almost overwhelming. She rubbed her hands over her arms, willing away the need to burst into tears.
“You ready?” He came out of the bathroom with a small toiletry bag and paused, looking her up and down. “You okay, Madison?”
“M-Maddie…” she whispered, fighting a wave of nausea that washed over her.
“You need to sit down!” he said abruptly, gently nudging her towards the bed.
“No, I shouldn’t…” Her eyes rolled back in her head and then there was nothing.
Hawk laid the beautiful young woman on the bed and went back into the bathroom to find a washcloth. He wet it with cold water and then sat on the edge of the mattress, pressing it to her forehead and cheeks. She stirred slightly and he took a moment to take in her delicate features and those impossibly long eyelashes. Even with no makeup, they rested on her well-defined cheekbones like soft shadows that made him want to run his fingers over them. Damn, a woman who’d just been shot at was unconscious on his bed and his thoughts were about as chivalrous as a pimp’s at a hooker convention. That was low even for him, and he’d stooped pretty low over the years.
Not today, though. Madison, Maddie—whoever she was—needed to recover from their little ordeal and go back to whatever sweet small town she undoubtedly came from. Mimosa Key was great, but this was a bad neighborhood on the mainland a few miles north of Naples and definitely no place for a girl like her. Didn’t she have a boyfriend or father to tell her going on vacation by herself wasn’t particularly safe? He didn't consider himself sexist, but the fact that this girl had wound up at a motel like this told him she shouldn’t be traveling alone, especially not on a budget.
She moaned and he brushed a lock of silky dark hair out of her face. “You’re okay,” he said quietly. “Adrenaline crash made you pass out. Don’t try to get up too quickly—chances are you’ll get dizzy again.”
“Ugh.” She dropped an arm over her eyes. “That’s twice I’ve made an idiot of myself in front of you.”
“Luckily, I’ve made a much bigger idiot of myself, on a much bigger scale, on more than one occasion, so I’m the last one to judge.”
She smiled faintly. “Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a while until she finally sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I’m thinking I need to get to the airport sooner
rather than later. This vacation wasn’t meant to be.”
“You might be right.” He smiled and held out a hand to help her up for the second time in less than half an hour. She took it hesitantly but matched his smile with one that nearly took his breath away.
“You’ve been very kind—thank you. You wouldn’t happen to be Canadian?”
He chuckled. “Nope. American boy from southern California.”
“If you wouldn’t mind walking me to my car, I’m going to try to get home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Toronto.”
He nodded. “Love Toronto. Ever eat at Habaneros? It used to be Hernando’s Hideaway.”
Her eyes widened in surprise that he was familiar with her favorite Mexican restaurant in downtown Toronto. “Of course! Probably drank too much there a time or two…”
He laughed. “Ditto.”
They walked down to the parking lot and Maddie groaned as soon as she saw the rental. Sure enough, those thugs had broken out the passenger side window and left a mess. There hadn’t been anything for them to take—the stereo wasn’t removable and she hadn’t left anything on the seats—but they’d made a mess and damaged the car.
“Dammit,” she muttered. “It’s a rental… Yet another disaster.”
“We’re gonna have to call the police,” he sighed. “Sorry, but if we don’t, you’ll be liable for the damage and it’s not worth it to be on the hook for that.”
Tears welled in her eyes again. “This trip is never going to end, is it?”
He reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “One thing at a time, okay? I’ll stay with you, make sure you’re okay.”