Silent Defender (Boardwalk Breakers Book 1)

by Nikki Worrell

  I kissed my fingers and touched the screen, waiting until she did the same before logging off. It was slowly becoming apparent that I was losing my heart to a reporter, of all people, and I didn’t mind a bit.

  ***

  The Breakers were in a groove, and it felt fantastic. San Jose’s fans tried their best to get under our skin, but it wasn’t affecting our goal scoring. They had a great fan base with sold-out attendance, but I still spotted the odd purple-and-orange Breakers jersey in the crowd. Considering we were a new team, it had an extra cool factor.

  The Sharks called a time-out, so we all gathered at our respective benches. Coach wasted no time telling us how he wanted the remainder of the game to go, signing for me so I didn’t miss anything as he looked back and forth between us all. Mags and Dante, I want you to hang back a bit, closer to Cage than to our offense. Let San Jose think we’re going to play the rest of the third period defensively. It might make them cocky enough to get careless with their plays and make the rest of the game a little easier on us.

  Don’t any of you get comfortable, though. We’re only up two goals, and with over ten minutes to go, I don’t have to tell you that this game’s not in the bag yet. So, hang back a bit, but when you see an opening, go balls to the wall after that puck. Are we clear?

  We were clear. No one argued with the coach on game day. I didn’t like it when Coach kept me on a leash, but I’d do what he asked of me. It was hard, though, not being at my position of choice on the blue line, when our forwards were so close to the Sharks’ net. I wanted a chance to slap that puck in for another goal. Three goals up in the last period? Now that would be enough to have the game in the bag.

  “Ah, shit.” It could take just one big play to even out the odds in a hockey game. And here came a potential game changer. Four of the Sharks were bearing down on Dante and me. They’d gotten around our offense, and now it was four on two. I was not comfortable with our deficit. That was another reason I didn’t like hanging back too far. If Dante and I had been at the blue line instead of the center red line, we might have had a chance to keep them from breaking through our other guys.

  I skated backward at a furious speed just to keep my position covering the guy with the puck. It was still four on two. Not a good spot to be in, but O’Dell and Bucknell were catching up—though it didn’t look like they’d be in position before San Jose got a shot off.

  As soon as they let the puck fly, I did what I had to do and dove in front of it. “Fucker!” The puck hit me hard in the foot. That was going to leave a mark, if it wasn’t actually broken.

  At least my bodily sacrifice did the job. O’Dell got the puck back and took it down ice once more. I was able to get back to the bench under my own steam, but it wasn’t pretty. There was no sitting down for me once I got there either. Our trainer led me straight down the tunnel, hobbling all the way, to get an x-ray and see what was what.

  Lucky for me, I’d dodged a bullet. I might have to miss a game or two, but I hadn’t broken bones. With how bad it was already hurting and swelling, I couldn’t imagine how it being broken could have hurt any more than it did, though.

  At least we won the game. Go Breakers.

  ***

  Jennie: Call me!

  That was one of the tough things about someone seeing you get hurt. Your friends and family wanted immediate updates when something went awry. I understood completely, but there simply wasn’t always time to contact them right away.

  By the time I was able to answer her text, a full hour had gone by.

  Me: You know me calling you does no good. I can’t hear you.

  Every once in a while I tried to make my hearing impairment work to my advantage.

  Jennie: YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!

  Well, damn. The universal use of caps in texting worked well for no man.

  Me: Okay, honey. I’m sorry. You know how hockey goes, but I was in x-ray and then with the doctor. My phone wasn’t with me.

  Yeah, that sounded lame even to my ears. If it were Jennie in my position, I’d be pissed as all get out.

  Jennie: I get it, Mags, I do. But, dammit I was worried. At least Rio called me.

  Me: Rio called you?

  Jennie: Yes. He thought I might want to hear that you weren’t in the hospital or anything.

  That was just too much.

  Me: Why would I be in the hospital? Even if it was broken they probably would have just made me wear a boot.

  Jennie: You could have thrown a blood clot or something. It’s happened before.

  I couldn’t recall that, but I wasn’t about to argue with her.

  Me: I’m sorry. I promise, I’m fine. I’m going to miss one or two games, but there are no blood clots and nothing’s broken. Okay?

  Jennie: Okay, and I’m sorry. I may have overreacted.

  Me: It’s nice that you care.

  Jennie: I do care. A lot. Have a safe flight.

  ***

  I was not a good traveler. By the time I got home, I was hungry, tired, and irritable. Not to mention sore. My foot was still throbbing, although the intensity had dissipated enough to forgo more pain pills. All of those things went away when I saw my sweet Jennie curled up on my couch with Eight Ball tucked into her side. I hadn’t even noticed Jennie’s car outside.

  I gently put my travel bag down and limped over to her sleeping form. What a sight for sore eyes she was. I wanted to capture that sight forever, and then I realized I could. Instead of using my tablet to do so—which would take a better picture, to be sure—I used the camera on my phone so that I could pull it up wherever I was.

  Neither Jennie nor Eight Ball moved when the flash went off, brightening the room. The only other light came from the fireplace. After snapping my picture, I made myself move away to leave her to rest.

  My foot made contact with something on the floor as I ambled over to a chair next to the fire, making me wince. It was a notebook. I picked it up and discovered an article she was working on entitled “Loved Ones on the Couch.”

  Watching sports on television isn’t always all fun and games.

  Spouses, friends, and lovers of athletes are overlooked in the scheme of things. What does one do when they see someone they care about getting injured in the name of the game? Who hears their cry of terror of the unknown? Who feels that stab of fear they experience in that often heart-stopping moment?

  My eyes widened as I read the words she’d written. Just those few sentences had me re-evaluating my thoughts on the matter. She was right. Most of the time when we got hurt, it wasn’t anything a bit of time wouldn’t heal, but how did our loved ones know that? How long did they have to wait to hear if we were going to be okay or if there was a more serious problem?

  I remembered watching a hockey game when I was young where the goalie had his jugular sliced by an errant skate. The emergency crew swore that if he hadn’t been at the end of the ice where the crew stood, he would have bled out before they could have reached him. That quick, he could have been gone. It was a freak accident that would probably never happen again, but it did happen. I couldn’t imagine the terror his family and friends endured before they were able to get a report on his condition. It was a miracle he lived to skate another day.

  Since I’d had no love for reporters in the past, I’d never read any of Jennie’s articles. That was going to change. She took an interest in my career, and I wanted to take an interest in hers. Maybe, just maybe, it was time for me to shake the moniker of the Silent Defender and retire his non-speaking ways. Maybe I should become the poster boy for hearing-impaired athletes. God knew it was hard enough for me to fight my way into the pros. Was it possible I could smooth the way for others? Could I be a voice for kids who thought they’d never be able to overcome their disability? I’d have to think about that—but later. Right now it was time to get some sleep.

  I woke Jennie with a kiss to her forehead. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

  She looked up at me and stre
tched her arms above her head as Eight Ball gracefully jumped to the floor. “Magnus.” Her smile transformed her sleepy face. “I hope you don’t mind me being here. I missed you.”

  “Mind? Are you crazy? I was miserable when I got home until I saw you. You’re my very own Sleeping Beauty.”

  “How’s your foot?”

  “Hurts like hell.” I bent toward her and she molded herself to me, allowing me to scoop her up in my arms. Her head nestled in the crook of my neck as if it were instinct. Even though Jennie drove my hormones into overdrive, at the moment I was only thinking of how much I wanted her by my side always. I limped my way into the bedroom, Jennie still in my arms. It had happened damn quick, but there it was. Ass over tea kettle, I was in love with this woman.

  Chapter 13

  Jennie

  It felt like only moments ago that Magnus had carried me to bed, stripping away my clothes before tucking me under the covers, but I knew it was much longer than that by the sunlight streaming in through the partially open blinds. I rolled over and saw the nicest thing I could hope for on a Sunday morning.

  The blankets had slipped down to Magnus’ naked waist. It surprised me that he slept in the nude, since he was always so cold. I reached over to draw the covers up over him and saw something under his right arm as I did. It was writing.

  Curiosity won out over worrying about waking him, and I lifted his arm to get a better look. It was writing! Fire in your heart, ice in your veins. He’d gotten a tattoo. To say I was shocked didn’t begin to describe my feelings over the tattoo. It was obvious that he’d just gotten it. I hadn’t seen it before, and I was privy to every inch of that man’s skin. Even though it wasn’t red anymore, it was plainly fresh. He’d gotten it in Phoenix, maybe.

  I poked him in the ribs, which only got me a grunt as he rolled over, facing away from me. Next I poked him in the butt cheek. And what a beautiful butt it was. Out of my control, my hands roamed over his bare back and downward, the new ink all but forgotten.

  Magnus was so muscled, so hard that he could have been a sculpture. An exquisite sculpture at that. His groan changed from annoyed to interested. He flopped onto his back and raised his arm in invitation for me to lie on his chest. It was an invite I couldn’t resist.

  My lips latched onto his nipple as I scooted closer, bringing forth other happy noises from his rapidly waking body. His eyes shot open, but we didn’t speak. My tongue passed over his abdominal muscles, making them quiver in the way that I liked. After a quick detour to the writing on his ribs, I lifted my face and confronted him. “Nice tattoo, Mags.”

  “You want to talk about that now?”

  “Just seems like something you would have mentioned.”

  He grunted again when I licked the words once more.

  “It was spur of the moment. I like your words. Now, if you would continue…”

  They were really only borrowed words, but continue I did. As I worked my way south, I allowed my teeth to come out and pay homage to his pronounced Adonis V. Jesus, he was splendid. “Ah, Jennie.” His voice was rough with unspent passion.

  I wanted to climb on top of him, but first I needed to taste him. I stroked him a time or two and then ran my finger over the head of his cock, licking it as I came away with the first drops of his pleasure. He was raised up on his elbows, watching me. I was fortunate enough to observe the way his eyes rolled back in his head when I slowly swallowed his cock.

  “You are so goddamn good at that. You’re killing me.”

  I granted myself another minute of sliding my lips and tongue up and down his magnificent erection before climbing back up his body. “I need you inside me.”

  He gripped my hips and guided me over him. I gradually lowered myself and took him in inch by delicious inch. When I began to move, Magnus stopped me. “Condom, Jennie.”

  “Yes. In a minute.” I liked the feel of him without that damn latex between us, and I also knew, without a doubt, that he’d never allow it if it were unsafe for me.

  His hands wandered over my breasts, cupping and squeezing them as I continued to ride him, my breath coming in more urgent pants. I’d never wanted anyone like I did Magnus. No one had ever been able to make me come just from being inside me. He felt so…fucking…good.

  Mags grunted. “Jennie—condom.”

  “Yes. Soon.” Fuck, I didn’t want to stop. Condoms should have been, but were not, at the forefront of my concern. “Oh, God, just a little more.” I increased my tempo, feeling my insides tighten in preparation for a most glorious orgasm.

  “So close!”

  “Jennie—”

  “I’m coming, Mags. Oh, God, I’m coming!”

  “Fuck.” His words didn’t register until I started coming back down from my mindless abandon and watched his back arch as he spilled himself inside of me.

  ***

  In hindsight, I should have listened to Mags.

  “I’m sorry, Jennie. I should have pulled out.”

  “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who should be sorry, but you make me forget myself. Hell, when you’re inside of me, I forget my own name.”

  His cocky smile said it all. He was sorry but not sorry. At least with today’s medical advances, I could go to the drug store and get a morning-after pill. I was also going to make a doctor’s appointment and start taking birth control pills.

  He winked at me from his vantage point of sitting against the headboard while I rested with my head on his legs, looking up at him. “You’re forgiven, but we can’t make that a habit, right?”

  “Well no, of course not.” I told him my plans, and he was satisfied enough to go for it again, figuring there was no need to bother with a condom since I was going to have to take that pill anyway. And later, round three was the same.

  ***

  Mags and I spent a quiet, sex-filled Sunday together, and then I went home in the evening to do laundry, clean a bit, and do all of the other little things I hadn’t gotten done over the weekend.

  It was Tuesday afternoon before I remembered that I’d never gotten the morning-after pill, or Plan B, as it was called. “Fuck!” Given that I was sitting in my office at the network with my door open, I clamped a hand over my mouth—as if that would make my yelled F-bomb not be heard by any of my co-workers.

  Izzy came running in. “What happened?” Two more people peeked their heads in the door.

  Racking my brain, I came up with the lame excuse of having just gotten a seriously bad papercut. I wrapped my hand around the alleged damaged digit until everyone walked away. Then I dialed Izzy’s extension whispering, “Can you come back in here?” She returned in seconds. “Close the door.”

  She fumbled with the door, whether in concern or fear, I didn’t know. Her voice was soft as she asked, “What’s wrong, Jen? Are you sick or something?”

  Her worry made me feel bad. “What? No. I’m sorry, Iz. I’m okay. Well, maybe.”

  She walked over and took a seat in front of my desk. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “You’re the best friend ever, you know that?” To my embarrassment, a sob burst out of my mouth. “Mags and I had sex.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Honey, you two have been doing it like rabbits for weeks. What’s your point?”

  Oh, this was mortifying. “I got overzealous. Mags told me to get a condom several times. I kept telling him to wait, and then it was too late. I wasn’t worried about it, and I told him not to worry because I would get a morning-after pill. So we had sex twice more on Sunday without using a condom.”

  Her body relaxed as she listened to me. “Okay, so what’s the problem? If you take those pills in the first twenty-four hours, they’re almost as reliable as being on birth control. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  I let my head hit the desk with a thump and mumbled.

  “What? Jennie, I couldn’t hear you.”

  I lifted my head and spoke the words that were previously stuck in my throat. “I forgot.”

&n
bsp; “You forgot what?” Her eyes opened wide as she got my meaning. “Whoa…wait. You forgot? To get the pill? Oh, my God, Jennie…you forgot to get the fucking pill?”

  No other words would form, so I settled for a numb nod.

  “When? Sunday, you said? You had sex Sunday?”

  “Uh huh.”

  She got up as she ticked off her fingers and came around to my side of the desk, pulling me up by the arm. Once I was standing, she opened my bottom drawer and grabbed my purse. “Let’s go. You’re still within the window of time for the pill to work. It’s going to be fine.”

  It wasn’t going to be fine. I knew it in my gut. I thought about the last time I’d had my period and quickly did the math. We’d had unprotected sex at the worst possible time in my cycle. Or best, if one wanted to get pregnant. As much as I loved spending time with Mags, I was in no way ready to become a mother to his child.

  We got to the pharmacy in record time. I asked to have a word with the pharmacist and then took a seat to wait.

  “Jennie Fields?”

  I shot up out of my chair, Izzy glued to my side. “Yes! That’s me.” We walked over to the somewhat private divider. “Um, I wanted to ask you about the morning-after pill.” I felt like an idiot, but to her credit, she just gave me an encouraging smile.

  “Sure. What would you like to know?”

  I shifted from foot to foot. “Well, I should have come in, err, Sunday, but…” I was a smart, independent woman, and I felt like a moron. How the hell could I have forgotten?

  “But?” Her smile was still in place.

  “Oh, God. I forgot.” I held up my hand in defense, although it wasn’t needed.

  “Oh, Jennie. Please don’t think you’re the only one this has ever happened to. We’re all human—including the man involved. The Plan B pill is still eighty-nine percent effective up to seventy-two hours. Where were you in your cycle?”

  I didn’t want to tell her. I knew how the pill worked and how its effectiveness diminished with certain factors. I lowered my head and answered her through upraised eyes. “Worst possible time. About two weeks after the start of my last period.”