by Steph
In the past couple of years, he’d become much more of an offensive defenseman, something a lot of people overlooked when they talked about him. They mentioned how he took stupid penalties and was fast to drop his gloves. But that shift in his playing was exactly why he’d caught her eye.
It was almost like he’d changed his mind-set, something that was really hard to do, especially for guys who’d had a certain style of play ingrained in them since they were ten.
For the next few minutes, she allowed herself to simply watch the game, something she didn’t get to do much. Usually she was working, whether she was taking care of her groups or doing her other, off-the-books work. Which couldn’t really be counted as work. It was a hobby.
Hobby.
She huffed so loudly one of the players turned to look at her. Luckily, something happened on the ice and his attention shifted back. She didn’t want to deal with questions right now. She had too many of her own.
Like, what the hell was it about a certain defenseman who made her want to throw out years of caution to find out what it’d be like to be bad? Just for one night.
It had been so damn long since she’d gone on a date and liked a guy enough to bring him home for sex. During the season, she sometimes worked twelve and thirteen hours a day so that didn’t leave a lot of time for dating anyway. But even during the summer, when she had a little extra time, she’d maybe hooked up twice.
Had it really been that long since she’d gotten laid?
Maybe she didn’t want to think about that too closely. Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t have toys so she wasn’t a frustrated, needy bitch.
And maybe you need to find someone more suitable to scratch this itch before you do something you’ll regret.
Like let Will seduce her.
Not gonna happen, girl.
Didn't mean she could stop thinking about it, though.
* * * * *
Frustration ate at Will. The game wasn’t going their way and that fucking little Syracuse dipshit prick Mason had been in his face all night, gunning for a fight.
Mason was young, probably all of twenty-three, and looking to get a notch on his belt with the name MacDonald beside it.
And if the kid wasn't careful, he was going to get exactly what he wanted. And maybe sooner rather than later.
The Redtails needed a kick in the ass. They were down two to nothing near the end of the second and they needed to make something happen.
The buzzer sounded for the last in-arena timeout and the players skated to the bench, frustration on all five faces, as well as every face on the bench.
As the coach laid out the strategy for the next play, he made specific eye contact with Will.
“I want to see movement out there,” Coach Scott said. “I want to see spark. Shoot the puck. Nothing bad comes from shooting the puck. Too many passes, too many turnovers.”
When the ref blew his whistle, Will and Coach shared another quick glance, and when his shift came, he jumped the boards and charged the puck in their defensive end.
Mason was at his back seconds later, battling him for the puck. Will had gotten it tied up in his skates in the corner and Mason was digging. And shoving the butt end of his stick in Will’s ribs whenever he could. Will heard the roar of the crowd, heard his teammates yelling.
Then Mason got in one more hard jab and the crowd started to bang on the glass as Will caught sight of Mason’s smirk.
So Will kicked the puck to his nearest teammate and shoved Mason away with a little more force than before. Mason retaliated with an elbow in his side before skating toward the puck and hitting Will’s teammate Robbie into the boards with a cheap shot.
As Robbie went down on one knee, Will shoved Mason away.
“Come on, old man.” Mason skated backward as the ref blew his whistle to stop play when Shane covered the puck at the net. “Let’s go. Or are you afraid of breaking a hip at your advanced age?”
Will had heard that and much worse for the past three years. It had no effect on him, didn’t piss him off, but this wasn’t about being pissed off.
His team watched intently as Mason circled behind him.
“Come back in a few years when you can grow a beard, kid.” Then he deliberately turned his back on him and laughed, shaking his head.
Justin’s eyes widened and that was the only warning he needed. He was ready when Mason cross-checked him from behind. He pitched forward, mainly for show, then spun around, landing his fist squarely on Mason’s jaw.
Mason’s head snapped back and his feet shifted. For a second, Will thought the guy was gonna go down, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing. But Mason recovered quickly and got in a few quick jabs. Pain sizzled as Mason connected with his right cheekbone then got in a few body shots. But while the younger guy had strength, he let his anger get away from him.
Will wasn’t pissed. He’d done this dance enough to have calculated out every move ahead of time.
So he was able to let the guy get in a few good blows before Will hit him with a bone-rattling body shot then took him to the ice.
He didn’t want to hurt the guy. He never fought with that end in mind. And he’d gotten even more aware of the consequences as he’d gotten older.
Getting Mason’s head under his arm, he kept him locked down as the linesmen came in to separate them.
And when they both got back to their feet, he nodded at Mason as they made their way back to the bench. They were both getting five-minute penalties for fighting so they were being sent back to the locker room because there was less than four minutes on the clock.
As he passed through the bench, he got a nod and a pat on the back from Coach Scott.
Maybe now they’d score some goddamn goals.
* * * * *
The crowd erupted with a roar and, since the horn hadn’t sounded, Jess knew something other than a goal was going on.
Looking out over the arena from the suite level, she wasn’t surprised to find Will squared off with Syracuse’s enforcer, Mason.
It should’ve been a fair fight. Looking at them, you’d think they were evenly matched. Both about the same size and height. But she knew better.
Will would kick the guy’s ass.
Wincing as Mason landed the first punch, she bit her tongue against the urge to yell along with the crowd. The sound rose to ear-splitting levels as Will shook off the hit. And then he smiled and the crowd went crazy.
Cocking back his arm, Will threw one solid hit to Mason’s jaw and the guy went to the ice. Where he stayed.
Another player would’ve gloated or taunted. Will simply skated to the bench and headed back to the locker room as there was less than five minute to play in the period.
A minute later, the Redtails got a power-play goal because Mason also got a minor penalty for instigation.
She had been so right. The Redtails needed Will. He was the right fit at the right time.
If she was keeping track—
Okay, not if. She was keeping track, damn it. She was keeping track of every time she’d been right about a guy and the team who needed him.
As she stood in the hallway outside the suites on the arena’s second level, she allowed herself to gloat.
Her dad was going to have to pay up on their bet. First, because he hadn’t thought Coach Scott would go for Will. And second, because he’d been convinced Will couldn’t add anything to a team as stacked with talent as the Redtails.
Her dad was one hell of a scout but sometimes he forgot that on paper, things were a lot different than on the ice. Of course, she could count on one finger how many times she’d had a coach take her direct advice. Unlike her dad, who got paid for it. Something she never would.
“Well, damn, I’d hate to be the man who put that look on your face. Everything okay?”
Jess’s head shot up and her gaze locked with the businessman she’d noticed earlier. She smiled automatically, her default setting at work.
“O
f course. Can I help you, Mr. …”
“Mike. Mike Northwick.” He held out his hand as he came forward and she took it out of habit.
“Jess Gardiner. Nice to meet you.”
He held onto her hand when she would’ve released him and it gave her time to notice how soft his palm was.
Will’s had been rough with calluses and cuts, his grip strong but not tight.
Why the hell are you comparing them?
Damn it.
“Nice to meet you, too.” Finally, he released her hand. “You look a little flushed. Everything okay?”
“I’m fine. Are you having a good time tonight, Mr. Northwick?”
“Well, the home team could be putting out a little more effort but yeah, I’m enjoying myself.”
She had to bite her tongue not to defend her guys, but in her line of work, the customer was always right. She just didn’t have to agree with him.
And, just like that, Mike Northwick became a little less attractive.
“Can I do anything for you? Does your group need anything?”
She saw him think about his response and controlled the urge to roll her eyes. If she could read his mind, she was pretty sure he’d be thinking something dirty. And stupid.
And how is that any different than Will?
Nope. Not going there.
“I think we’re good, thank you.”
Keeping her smile light, she excused herself. She really did have to check in on the rest of the groups before the end of the game.
It took a while to finish her rounds and there were only a few minutes left in the game when she headed for ice level and the Zamboni gate.
The Redtails were still losing, but they’d pulled the goalie and were pressing hard in the offensive end. Her gaze unerringly found Will at the blue line, his big, solid body poised and ready to take a shot or crash the net.
His intense focus was no different than anyone else’s on the ice but there was something about him that made her stare only at him.
Maybe it was the way he held so still. He didn’t shuffle his feet or move his stick or twist his head. He was utterly intent on the game when the puck was in play.
Maybe you’re becoming just a little obsessed.
And that really would be a problem because she couldn’t even say what it was about Will that made her unable to look away.
Okay, that’s total bullshit. You know exactly why.
And there wasn’t a damn thing she was going to do about it.
Except stand here and stare at him for these last few minutes of the game.
When the final buzzer sounded, the Redtails had lost by one point, which sucked. This was the second game in a row they’d lost. Definitely not a streak but not something they’d want to continue either.
She was almost ready to turn and head back to her office when she saw Will stand and start to smile as he spoke to Justin, who shook his head and reluctantly grinned as well. Then Will went over to Robbie and bumped his shoulder before skating to center ice to knock helmets with Shane as he headed to the bench.
He exchanged a fist bump and a nod with Cary, standing on the ice at the gate to the bench, before he disappeared down the hall to the locker room.
Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, which were definitely not from Will’s smile, she made her way back to her office. Had the team won, she’d have heard whoops and cheers but now it was quiet.
And so was her office when she finally sat down at her desk.
She didn’t bother to turn on the overhead light. She could find her way around blindfolded and the small lamp she kept on her desk provided more than enough light. Besides, if she turned on the ceiling light, someone would feel compelled to check in on her, and she really only wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet to get her thoughts written down.
Yes, she could do this at home, but she’d learned that if she waited, she lost that sense of urgency she still had here in the arena. Her dad had the luxury of being able to write his thoughts out as they happened. She didn’t.
For the next fifteen minutes, she typed furiously. And when she was finished, she read back through them and smiled.
Damn, she was good at this. Too damn bad she’d never get a job doing what she was so damn good at.
Her smile quickly faded.
She’d told herself, when she’d finally settled on a sports marketing major at Penn State University almost ten years ago, that she’d never regret her choice. And there was nothing to regret. She’d graduated with honors and had had her choice of jobs at graduation. She’d taken the job with the Elmira ECHL team and had never looked back.
And if she occasionally longed for something she’d never have… Well, that was just human nature, right?
“No rest for the wicked, huh? Shouldn’t you be gone by now?”
She sucked in a sharp breath but her brain had already identified that deep voice and her body had responded. Thankfully, the man in the doorway couldn’t see how her nipples had peaked, both because of the dark and because she wore a padded bra. One of the first lessons a woman learned when she worked in an ice arena in a male-dominated sport.
“I was just getting ready to leave. I could ask you the same thing. Is there something you need, Mr. MacDonald?”
As he moved away from the door, the light from her lamp began to illuminate his body but hadn’t reached his face. But she still heard the smile in his voice when he said, “I guess you could say that.”
The teasing tone of his voice made her thighs clench, damn him.
“Well, then you better tell me what it is so I can get it for you. Then we can both go home. I’m sure you need to rest up after tonight’s game.”
He stopped right at the edge of the other side of her desk and now he was close enough for her to see that smile on his lips.
Damn, damn, damn. He had a beautiful mouth. A mouth that made her wonder how it’d feel on her skin.
Which wasn’t going to happen. Like, ever.
“Are you trying to politely tell me I need to get to bed because I’m old?”
She rolled her eyes, made sure he could see it. “I’m not the one who keeps bringing up your age. Maybe you’re the one with the problem.”
With another soft laugh, he dropped into the chair across from her desk. She bit her lip against the urge to return his smile, but it was hard to keep a straight face. His smile taunted and made him that much more handsome. Such a different man than the one on the ice.
But she knew that intensity was still there, lurking under the surface.
He must be amazing in bed.
Totally the wrong thought to have at this minute. Luckily, it was probably too dark for him to see the flush on her cheeks.
But, of course, his eyes narrowed and she had to wonder if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Oh, I’ve got a lot of problems, but right now, I’m not so worried about my age. I’ve got a few other things on my mind.”
Don’t do it. Don’t— “Like what?”
His smile widened. “Well, my face hurts like a sonuvabitch right now. Fucking Mason has one hell of a right hook.” He raised his hand to rub at his jaw, and she now saw the bruise that would probably be a spectacular color tomorrow. “Guess I should be glad he didn’t go after Robbie. The kid probably would’ve broken his hand on Mason’s jaw.”
Her heart gave a seriously unnecessary flutter at the fact that he’d stuck up for his teammate. When had she become such a girl about things like that?
“And how is your hand? It’s not like you don’t need it.”
“I can take a hell of a lot more damage than some of these kids. They’re fucking twigs. I’m surprised Colin doesn’t break a bone every time he gets checked into the boards.”
Shaking her head, she had to work to hold back a smile. “You make them sound like they’re fragile. Hockey players are the least fragile athletes I’ve ever met.”
“But our hearts get broken just like ev
eryone else, hon.”
She laughed, couldn’t help herself. He looked so sincere but that twinkle in his eyes… It was killer.
“Did you want something in particular, Mr. MacDonald, or are you just here to delay my departure for some reason?”
“What would you say if I asked you out for drinks one night?”
She had to bite her tongue against the urge to say yes. The thought didn’t even surprise her. “I’d say I don’t date hockey players.”
He didn’t look surprised by her answer. “Because you work with them or because you don’t like them?”
“I love the game and I like hockey players. I just don’t think I should date men I work with. It can create…problems.”
His gaze narrowed. “Have some experience with those problems, do you?”
“Not for many years, no. Because I don’t date hockey players.”
“So that’s a hard-and-fast rule?”
“Pretty much so, yes.”
“And I guess sex is out of the question?”
She blinked and her mouth dropped open. She wanted to laugh because she could still see that glint in his eyes, the one that wanted to rile her up, see how far he could push her. But she could see that intensity lurking there as well, the patient predator stalking his prey. Her heart gave a little flip to realize she was the prey.
And since she now had an image of her and Will in bed, she swallowed hard and took a breath before leaning back in her chair, never breaking his gaze.
“Sex is never out of the question, but I definitely don’t have sex with hockey players, especially not hockey players on my team.”
Mirroring her movement, he leaned back in his chair, putting his right ankle on his left knee and resting his left hand on his ankle. The casual position made her breath catch in her throat and that made not one damn bit of sense.
He wore a suit, as all the players did on game day. His was blue, his shirt white, the first couple of buttons undone. She could just see a hint of skin in that vee and she had the insane urge to crawl onto her desk, lean forward, and lick him right there.