by Jennie Marts
Reaching his arm around her waist, he drew her to him, and gazed down into her eyes.
He took a deep breath before speaking. “I do like you. Of course I like you. But it’s more than that. Sometime between you teaching me how to frost cupcakes and us playing strip foosball last night, I fell in love with you. I know it seems a little crazy—it seems a little crazy to me, too. Like I barely know you. But I do know you. I feel like I’ve known you from the first time I met you. Even if I was drunk and a little influenced by the heady scent of chocolate frosting on your chest.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her heart melted at his words.
She tried to speak, but he put his fingers to her lips and leaned his forehead against hers. “Don’t say anything. Just let me get this out. I do know you, Gabby. I know you care about people, and you see the good in everything and everyone. But it’s more than that. I let you know me. The real me. The goofy idiot that laughs and jokes and messes everything up no matter how hard I try to get things right. I let you in. And you liked me. Flaws and all.”
He dipped his chin, grazing his lips against hers. “It might seem sudden to you, but it feels absolutely right to me. Every time I’m with you, I fall for you a little bit harder. I want to be with you all the time. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. You’re the first person that makes me want to change—makes me want to be a better person. You’re the first thing that I’ve cared about more than hockey.”
Her heart raced. His words spun a spell around her, drawing her in. His lips were soft, his breath warm and minty, yet his body was hard and solid as she sunk into him. Everything he was saying, every word he spoke was exactly how she felt about him.
She traced her finger along his cheek, the scruff of his beard scratchy against her skin. He closed his eyes, as if savoring her touch, and she lay her hand gently across his cheek. Not trusting her voice, she spoke in a whisper, giving him the only words she had to say. “I’m in love with you, too.”
Opening his eyes, he gazed into hers as he reached up and rested his hand on top of hers. Then he pulled it away from his face and pressed a kiss softly inside of her palm. “You are my angel. I don’t deserve you. You’re so nice, so good—way too good for a guy like me. It scares me to death that I’m going to screw up and do something stupid to hurt you, to break you.”
She squeezed his hand tightly. “I won’t break. I’m stronger than you think. I’m actually pretty tough.”
“I know.” He grinned down at her. “I know that now. I know that you’ve been through a lot, and that you’re a survivor. That you take the crap that life throws at you, and you don’t let it get you get down. Instead, you figure out the good—the positive things in situations and the good in people. You take the lemons life gives you and make lemon frosting.”
A smile curved the corners of her lips. “I like that. And I like you. Goofy flaws and all. But even as tough as I am, I’m scared, too. You’re so much more than anything I’ve ever known. I’ve never dated anyone like you.”
“What do you mean ‘like me’? Like a screw-up?”
“No. I’ve dated plenty of those.” She nudged him good-naturedly in the ribs. “I’m talking about the press, the fame, the wealth, how ridiculously good-looking you are.” She grinned as her comment earned a small chuckle from him. “Seriously though, I’m scared to death of getting involved with you.”
His laughter died and the pain returned to his eyes.
He dropped her hand, but she reached for it and held it to her chest.
She swore she could feel her heart pounding against their joined hands. “I am scared of getting involved with you, but I’m terrified of letting you go. Of letting you walk out of my life. Of missing out on a chance to have something with you. Because I think we really have a chance—a chance at something amazing.”
His smile returned, and he leaned in and kissed her. Kissed her softly—sweetly—with promise. “I think you’re amazing.” Another kiss as he pulled her tighter against him. “I want this. I want you in my life. More than anything.”
She heard what he was saying—heard the underlying message—and even though his body against hers was making it hard to think—she knew couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t ask him to give up the thing that he loved. She wouldn’t.
She pressed a hand against his chest, putting enough space between them for her to take a breath and keep her thoughts about getting naked with him at bay—well, somewhat at bay.
But she needed to say this, and needed him to hear her. “Owen, I know you love hockey. I’ve seen you play, heard you talk about it, and know that it’s in your soul. It’s part of who you are. And I don’t want to change that about you. I know I have a hard time with the fighting and the violence, but that’s my problem, not yours. You are a hockey player. It’s what you do, and it brings you joy. I never want to stand in the way of that—of something that makes you so happy—and I won’t.”
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” He jostled her against him. “See what I mean—you’re a good person. You’re still thinking about me when all I can think about is how soon I can get you naked and into my bed.”
“I’m thinking about that, too.” She laughed, then took a step back. “But I’m also thinking about you and what hockey means to you. I appreciate that you made this gesture for me—that you were willing to skip this exhibition game to prove something to me—but I don’t want to be the thing that messes up your career. I know this game today is important, and I know you need to be there. The arena is only ten minutes away. If you leave now, you’ll still be able to make it in time for the second period. There’ll be plenty of time to get naked later, but right now you need to get to that game.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. Okay, I’ll go, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. You’re going to be on Harvey’s shit-list as is. Go play the game—and do something cool, like one of those cap-trick things.”
He laughed. “That’s called a hat-trick, but I applaud your effort at learning hockey lingo.” Leaning in, he gave her another kiss. “That one’s for luck.”
“I wish I could be there, but I need to stay with my brother. The doctor said he’ll probably discharge him this afternoon, and he’ll need a ride home.”
“I understand.”
The bing of the elevator sounded at the end of the hall. The doors opened, and Leah stepped out, carrying a small pink box from the bakery.
Hmm. What was she doing here?
She spotted Gabby and Owen, and waved as she walked toward them. “Hi. I thought I’d bring over a few cupcakes for Justin. You know, to make him feel better. Don’t worry, I paid for them myself.”
Ah—Justin’s cuteness and charm had struck another one.
Gabby smiled. “I’m not worried. And you didn’t have to pay for them. That’s sweet that you wanted to visit him.”
Leah grinned shyly. “We’ve been texting some, and I knew he was in the hospital. He told me you were going to be at a hockey game this afternoon and asked if I could come visit him and give him a ride home later. So, here I am.”
Gabby grinned at Owen. “Here she is. So, I guess I’m coming with you to the game after all.”
Chapter Seventeen
Gabby followed the attendant as he led her down to her seat in the arena. The second period of the game was about to start.
Rushing from the hospital, she’d said a quick goodbye to Justin, giving him a hug and a promise to check on him later, but he seemed to be in good hands.
She and Owen had taken his car, leaving hers at the hospital, and had made good time driving over to the arena. They’d barely pulled into the parking area when Owen had jumped out, tossed his keys to the valet, and ran for the locker room, calling over his shoulder that he would see her after the game.
Gabby had picked up her ticket at Will Call, stopped at the concession stand, and was no
w armed with popcorn, soda, and a box of peanut M&M’s. She didn’t have her jersey, so she’d bought a blue and red Colorado Summit cap. Pulling her curly hair through the hole in the back, she’d made a makeshift ponytail.
The attendant pointed to an empty seat next to a woman and two young boys, and she was surprised to see Benjamin, the boy from the charity ball sitting in the seat next to hers. He looked up at her and waved as she sat down.
“Hi, Ben. What are you doing here? I thought you’d never been to a hockey game.”
He grinned. “I haven’t. This is my first one. Owen sent tickets and some Bannister jerseys to my whole family.” He opened his coat, revealing the blue jersey with Owen’s number on the front. He pointed to the family next to him. “This is my mom and my brother.”
Ben’s mom smiled and shook Gabby’s hand. “Hi, I’m Diane. Are you a friend of Mr. Bannister’s?”
Gabby nodded. “Yes, and I’m thrilled you’re here. My brother couldn’t come, and now I have someone to enjoy the game with.”
Diane looked slightly embarrassed as she smoothed down the front of her new hockey jersey. “It was so nice of him to send us these shirts and the tickets, and the boys were so excited, but I’m afraid I don’t know very much about hockey.”
It was nice of Owen to send them the tickets—he was full of surprises—and a better guy than he gave himself credit for. Gabby offered her an encouraging smile. “That’s okay. Neither do I. But I know they try to hit the puck into the net, so we’ve got the basics down.”
Diane smiled back and settled in to her seat as Gabby offered the kids some of her popcorn and chocolate.
The music stopped and they looked up as the announcer proclaimed the start of the second period and called out Owen’s name. The crowd went wild, and Gabby’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched him step onto the ice.
He skated out, his blades cutting through the fresh ice as he circled the arena, pausing to wave at Gabby and Ben as he skated by. He flashed Gabby a roguish grin followed by a devilish wink, and his smile sent a wave of tingles through Gabby’s tummy. Even missing a tooth, his grin was delicious, mainly because it was meant for her. And only her.
She waved back, then clapped and cheered with the rest of the crowd, getting caught up in the spirit of the game.
Watching Owen play, she thought about how much had happened over the past few weeks. She recalled the feeling of despair she’d had leaning against the stall in the women’s restroom at the party she’d been catering, covered in chocolate frosting, and angry at her brother for letting her down again.
Frustrated with her brother, and pretty much the world in general, she couldn’t imagine that the guy stumbling drunk into the room would turn out to be the one who would turn her world upside down.
She’d thought she didn’t have time in her life for love or romance, that her business was everything, and knew for sure that she didn’t need another guy in her life that was just like her brother, a guy that drank too much and made bad decisions.
But Owen hadn’t turned out to be like her brother at all. He was kind and thoughtful, and had shown up to help in the bakery to make up for his mistakes, instead of just offering empty apologies and excuses. He’d let her get to know him—the real him.
He’d let down his defenses and let her in, which was kind of funny in a way, since he was a defenseman. Looking out over the ice, she realized their relationship was a lot like the game of hockey.
In the game, the players worked toward a common goal and had to communicate with each other and work together to make that happen. They were in sync with each other, engaged and connected. And even if they get knocked down, or fall down, hockey players get back up and keep playing.
If this was Owen’s mentality, then she was good with it. This seemed like a great game plan for their relationship. Stay connected, work together, communicate, and keep playing.
Owen was everything she wanted, everything she’d been waiting for. She was still scared, but she knew couldn’t ultimately win the game without taking a shot—taking a chance. She couldn’t score if she didn’t risk it all—including her heart—and take that shot.
And she knew scoring with Owen would be a risk worth taking.
Scoring with Owen had already proved to be a game-changer—and a win.
***
Two hours later, the game had ended, and Gabby leaned against the wall outside the locker room door. The air smelled of an odd combination of soap and sweat, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill in the cool hallway.
Owen had asked her to wait for him, and she held her breath every time the locker room door opened. She couldn’t wait to see him, to throw her arms around him.
None of the other stuff mattered—the reporters, the jealous fans, the pictures on social media. The only thing that mattered was being with him, touching him, talking to him, playing strip foosball and getting tangled in the sheets with him.
The locker room door banged opened, startling her, and then he was there. All six-feet-three-inches of gorgeous muscled man, and he was hers. Her heart stopped, skipped a beat, as she waited—waited for him to see her—waited to make sure this was real. That he’d really said that he wanted her in his life—that he loved her.
Her breath caught in her throat as he gazed along the hall, then released when he saw her and a sexy-as-hell grin spread across his face. Crossing to her in four steps, he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her from the floor, and spun her around in a tight hug.
He smelled like soap and his delicious after-shave, the ends of his hair curly and damp from his shower. She pressed her face into his neck as he squeezed her to him. “Hey, Angel. I’m so glad you’re here.”
She pulled back, gazing up into his gorgeous blue eyes. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
He reached for her hand, entwining her fingers with his. “You still want to go pick out a Christmas tree with me?”
She nodded. “I still want to do everything with you.”
He grinned, the double-entendre not lost on him. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever. And the first of many we spend together. Now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go. You’re the best present I could have asked for.”
She smiled up at him, her tone light and teasing. “You’re just saying that because when you met me, I was covered in chocolate frosting.”
Leaning down, he kissed her lips, a kiss full of promise and love. “When I met you, I thought you were an angel, the frosting was just the icing on the cake.”
THE END
If you enjoyed this story, click HERE to get Worth the Shot—the next Bannister Brothers book.
***
After being traded in the middle of the season, Bane Bannister wasn’t looking for trouble. In fact, he’d been strictly instructed by his new coach to stay out of trouble and away from women. Too bad the only woman he’s interested in happens to be the coach’s daughter. Addison Cavanaugh had one rule: Do not date hockey players. So kissing the newest trade to her dad's team should have been off-limits—even if he is hot enough to melt the ice.
Is the hunky hockey player enough to make Addison break her only rule? Is the new player worth the shot or is she risking her heart in a game she can't possibly win?
***
Keep reading for an excerpt to WORTH THE SHOT:
Addison Cavanaugh raced down the gangway and slipped inside the airplane’s door. Ignoring the dirty look from the flight attendant for being late, she searched for her seat and prayed she’d have the row to herself.
No such luck. A tall, dark-haired man slumped against the window, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up around his head. An empty travel-sized bottle of alcohol was tucked into the pocket of the seat in front of him, so he was either asleep or passed out. Either way, he was taking up her much needed legroom as his long legs sprawled into her area.
She shoved her bag under the seat ahead of her and clicked
on her seatbelt. Her phone buzzed at her hip, and she pulled it from her skirt pocket.
Her blood boiled as she read the text from Trent. Hey babe. Can’t wait to see U. Can U bring me a breakfast burrito from that place on 24th on your way in? U know what kind I like. Thanks. U R the best. And make sure they put mushrooms on it this time.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she ignored the message and switched the phone to airplane mode. Seriously? The nerve of that guy.
She wasn’t planning to see him at all. And she sure as hell wasn’t bringing him a flipping burrito. Let him get his own damn breakfast.
This message was exactly why she’d made The Rule.
When it came to dating, she had one rule—do not date hockey players. She’d broken the rule before, the most recent time for Trent Hadley, and dating him had only reinforced the reasons why she’d instigated The Rule in the first place.
As the daughter of an NHL coach, she’d been raised around the sport, and both of her brothers had played. Sure, there were some great guys that played—they weren’t all bad, of course. But the ones she attracted tended to be arrogant, full of themselves, cocky jerks.
Maybe she just picked the wrong ones, but Trent was the last straw in a very long line of bad straws. He’d crossed the line during their last date, letting his temper get the best of him, and she’d told him they were through.
That was a month ago. And the jerk acted like they were still together, even after she’d repeatedly told him they weren’t. And he seriously expected her to bring him a breakfast burrito. He was out of his mind. And clearly fit the description of cocky, arrogant, and full of himself.
“The pilot’s preparing for takeoff,” a flight attendant informed her. “Can I get you anything?”
She jerked a thumb at the man snoring softly next to her and smiled wryly at the attendant. “I’ll have whatever he had.”