HOT ICE
Rachelle Vaughn
HOT ICE
Copyright © 2014 by Rachelle Vaughn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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rachellevaughn.com
Dear Reader,
In the first three books of the RAZORS ICE series you met Ben, Nathan and JD, hockey players for the Red Valley Razors. You went along for the ride as they found their true loves in Ally, Sarah and Lauren in unexpected places like hockey practice, a hair salon and a wildlife refuge. But their teammates were left waiting on the bench!
Left winger Jace McQuaid has been nursing bitterness toward his ex-wife who cleaned out his bank account and left him skeptical of love and women in general. Then he meets Violet James, a sultry massage therapist, hired to help rehabilitate him and get him off the injured reserve list.
As Violet massages him back to health and thaws the block of ice around his heart, Jace rethinks his stance on relationships. What Jace doesn’t know is that Violet is harboring a secret that just might destroy everything they’ve built together.
I hope you enjoy Hot Ice, the next installment in the RAZORS ICE series. Please look for my next book in the series, coming out in 2015. To receive information about new releases, book giveaways and special offers subscribe to my newsletter here.
Best wishes,
Rachelle Vaughn
Chapter One
Eggs and Roast
“Jesus, Jace, you need to get yourself some pussy,” Cody said around a mouthful of his veggie omelet.
“Yeah, Jace,” Sebby agreed wholeheartedly from the seat next to him. “When’s zee last time you got laid?”
When Jace McQuaid had agreed to meet two of his teammates for breakfast that morning, he had no idea he was setting himself up for a ball-busting session. It wasn’t like professional hockey players had a reputation for being tactful and polite or anything, but this was just downright ridiculous. What did a guy have to do around here to enjoy his eggs in silence?
“Well?” Cody prompted, swallowing his food and washing it down with a noisy gulp of coffee.
Jace chewed his toast and thought about the question. Truthfully, he really couldn’t remember the last time he’d been laid. “I guess it’s been a while,” he admitted somberly.
“Ha!” Sebby smacked a hand on the table, rattling everyone’s plates and drawing several looks from the other diners in the little downtown cafe. “You hesitate. I knew it!”
Alexandre “Sebby” Sebastien was one of the goaltenders for the Red Valley Razors hockey team and he’d been Jace’s teammate and best friend for well over a decade. Born and raised in Moscow, Sebby sported a thick Russian accent and, at his teammate’s amusement, often stumbled his way through the English language. Today, however, Sebby wasn’t having any trouble finding the right words to piss Jace off.
“Told ya,” Cody smirked at Sebby. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
Team captain, Cody “Cola” Lambert had no business critiquing Jace’s love life. The guy had it all—a beautiful wife and three great kids—and Jace envied him—just a little bit—for it.
Jace snarled at Cody. “Okay, when’s the last time you got laid?” he asked, turning his attention to Sebby, the Russian-born goaltender and his supposed best friend.
“Theez morning,” Sebby answered without blinking an eye.
“You’re kidding.” Jace frowned and rubbed the stubble on his jaw. Of course the guy wasn’t joking. Sebby was a perpetual bachelor and had that sandy blonde hair and boyish good looks thing working for him. And chicks really loved his accent. Even if they couldn’t understand what he was saying half the time either. Too bad Jace didn’t have an exotic accent. He could just imagine the amount of women he’d have falling into his lap if he could curl his R’s.
“Nope,” Sebby replied. “No joke. Naomi came by before her shift at Green Canary.”
Jace rolled his eyes at Sebby’s smugness. “Okay. And what about you?” he asked, tipping his coffee in Cody’s direction.
“Last night,” Cody answered quickly.
“Last night?” Jace looked at Cody in horror. “But you’re married. And your wife just had a baby.”
Cody grinned. “Yup. Laina is awesome. Why do you think I married her, man?” he joked.
They all knew that wasn’t the reason, but for the sake of their conversation, Jace let it slide. He took a deep breath and toyed with the hash browns on his plate. Dolly’s Diner served the best breakfast in town, but all this pussy talk left a sour taste in his mouth.
Great, he sighed. It was official. He was a loser. Even his married teammates were having more sex than he was. That was downright unheard of and completely unacceptable in his opinion.
What was his excuse again? Oh yeah. His dry spell might have had something to do with his ex-wife, Simone, who had single handedly ruined his life. She was like a demonic Hoover. She ate money and spat out pure bitchiness and evil. Ugh. When was that gaping hole she sawed out going to fill itself in?
Jace looked around the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with his teammates. Two old-timers at the counter gripped greasy, laminated menus and argued about yesterday’s winning lottery numbers. The inside of the café smelled like burnt coffee, but the waitresses didn’t scowl at them when they asked for extra hash browns or extra bacon. Or extra everything. Hey, sex wasn’t the only thing hockey players had a ravenous appetite for.
Sebby’s coffee cup hadn’t reached below the halfway mark since the three of them had sat down. Noticing this, Cody chuckled with a shake of his head. “She sure is keepin’ your cup full.”
“I’d like to fill…her,” Sebby replied, searching for the right translation. The raised eyebrows of his teammates told him he’d gotten it right.
“That’s our Seb,” Cody said to Jace. “A glass half full kind of guy.”
The young waitress sidled up to their table again, topped off Sebby’s coffee and ignored Cody’s. She’d already given the captain’s shiny gold wedding band a glance and even though Jace didn’t wear a ring, his scowl was enough to keep anyone away—even the most determined of gold diggers.
“Christ, I can’t believe you guys.” Jace grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. He was still hung up on the fact that his sex life had merged over into the slow lane since his divorce.
“What?” Sebby asked, feigning innocence. “Trik Levine set me up with hot model who works at lingerie store in mall.”
Jace glared at Sebby, his lip curling in a sneer. “Why aren’t you and Levine sending any hot model chicks my way?”
Sebby shrugged. “You been…,” he paused to find the right word in English, “…crotchy.”
Cody laughed out loud at Sebby’s choice of words and Jace scowled. Since when had breakfast with his buddies turned into the Comedy Central Roast of Jace McQuaid?
“I think the word you’re looking for is crotchety,” Cody informed Sebby.
“Yeah,” Sebby nodded at Jace. “Crotchety. Like old man.”
“Yeah,” Cody agreed. He l
ooked at Jace and grimaced. “Sorry, man, but chicks don’t go for that crotchety thing.”
Jace leaned back in his chair and glared at his teammates. “You two are unbelievable.”
“I think the problem is that you’re too bitter,” Cody offered.
“Oh yeah?” Jace retorted, his mouth filling with sarcasm. “Well, maybe if I had a hot model chick modeling lingerie for me I wouldn’t be so crotchety. You guys ever think of that?”
Cody’s look was skeptical. “You make things too…complicated.”
“How so?” Jace asked. He hadn’t asked for relationship advice from his teammates, but was curious as to what brilliant ideas they had to bestow upon him on this fine February morning.
“I don’t know.” Cody answered. “You just do. I wouldn’t be surprised if you made a chick sign a prenup before you took her out for drinks.”
Jace huffed, finished off his milk and slammed the empty glass on the table. “Yeah, let’s see how you act after being screwed up the wazoo by a money hungry, gold digging, devil woman. Talk to me when Laina,” he shot a piercing look at Cody, “or some hot model chick,” he shot an equally cold look at Sebby, “takes you for everything you’ve got. Then we’ll finish this conversation.”
“See,” Cody looked at Sebby and they exchanged a knowing look. “Bitter.”
Seb nodded in agreement. “And crotchety.”
Jace threw some cash on the table and stood up. “I’m out.”
Cody groaned and threw his hands up in the air. “Don’t get all crybaby on us, Ace. We’re just saying you need to let loose and get laid. No strings attached.”
“Yeah,” Sebby chimed in, liking the idea. “Just sex.”
Jace shook his head. “There is no such thing as no-strings-attached.” He should know. Women always wanted something and it usually had the face of a dead president printed on it.
“All right,” Cody shrugged. “Have it your way. Home alone wanking your own crank.”
“That’s not how it is,” Jace argued.
“I’m just sayin’, man. It’s time you quit moping around about Simone and let your dick do the talking. How long’s it been? A year? More?”
Jace sighed and wondered how breakfast with the guys had become a session with Dr. Ruth. He sat back down with a huff and turned the empty milk glass around in circles. “It’s been a year and a half since the divorce.”
“Ah, man!” Sebby slapped his knee with gusto.
“It’s been plenty long enough, Jace,” Cody said gently.
Jace scraped his hand over his face. “Lay off, all right? I’ve had a lot of shit on my plate.”
“Don’t make excuses, old man. It just makes you sound pathetic.”
The words stung. At thirty-seven, Jace was one of the Razors’ oldest players. The guys never failed to give him a bad time about his age, but Jace loved the sport so much he’d play it from a rocking chair if he had to. He probably would, too. He’d just slap some blades on the rockers and have somebody give him a nice strong push out onto the ice.
Jace cringed at the rocking chair image he’d conjured up in his head. Pathetic. Downright pathetic.
“Not all women are out to get you, Ace,” Cody added. “Some are just out to get some,” he explained.
“If you say so.” Jace devoured the rest of his hash browns and after a moment of silence asked, “Am I really that bitter?”
Cody looked Jace in the eye. “Lil’ bit.”
“Cut me some slack, will ya?” The hash browns sat like a brick in his stomach. Why had he sat back down? Because Jace McQuaid didn’t tuck tail and run the other way when things got dicey. Especially with his teammates. “Besides,” he added, “it’s too early in the morning for your bullshit.” Jace looked at his watch. “Hell, it’s not even ten a.m. yet.”
“It’s never too early to help out our buddy Ace McQuaid’s love life.” Cody said with a smirk.
“I don’t have time for a love life. I’ve gotta get healthy again, guys.” His high pain tolerance and sheer stubbornness had allowed him to play through injuries that should have stopped him otherwise, but his sore shoulder had earned him an unwanted place on the injured reserve list and he’d missed the last few games. He’d played through the pain for the beginning of the season until his coach sat him out to “save him for the big playoff push.” Jace cringed just thinking about it. It was a bunch of bullshit as far as he was concerned.
Usually, his knee was what gave him trouble. But now his shoulder was acting up after an awkward hit into the boards. Jace wished his body would just stick to one part that it wanted to shoot to hell instead of generously spreading the love around.
Claiming a spot on the injured reserve list wasn’t his idea of fun. If the damn doctors would just clear him already, he could get his career back on track. What did the doctors and trainers know anyway? Jace would play with his bones sticking through his skin if they’d let him.
“Are you cleared to play in the Carolina game?” Cody asked, signaling to the waitress he was out of coffee.
“No,” Jace answered on a sigh. “I’m out for a couple more weeks.” Absently, Jace rubbed his knee. “The shoulder isn’t one hundred percent yet.”
Cody winced. “Sorry, bud. I’ve been sliced and diced more times than I can count, but knock on wood,” he said rapping his knuckles on the Formica tabletop, “I’ve never had to miss a road trip.”
“Well,” Jace said thoughtfully. “The league doesn’t have much need for pretty boys like us, so guys are always trying to make us as toothless and hideous as they are.”
Cody took out his false teeth and grinned a toothless smile.
Jace shook his head. “Missing teeth and you still manage to look like a movie star.”
Cody put his teeth back in. “Speaking of movie star good looks, did you hear that JD and Lauren are getting married?”
“Good for them,” said Sebby. His attention drifted away from the table and focused on their young blonde waitress as she maneuvered around tables with a tray of food. A woman didn’t need fancy lingerie to entice a man.
Great, Jace thought to himself, Sebby’s probably lining up another conquest for tonight. Hot lingerie store clerks, curvy waitresses… No one was safe.
“That’s cool,” Jace said about his teammate JD’s engagement. “As long as he makes her sign a prenup,” he added with a mumble. Bitterness held in his voice. He had no doubt JD and Lauren would have a happy life together. Lauren was a sweet girl and Jace didn’t think she had it in her to rip JD’s heart out and take him for everything he had. At least not on purpose anyway.
Cody started to laugh, but one look at Jace and he knew his teammate was serious.
Jace pushed his plate away and stood up. It was time to leave this scene in the dust.
“Jace, don’t leave in a pissy mood,” Cody pleaded, still waiting for his refill.
“Can’t stay,” Jace replied gruffly. “I’ve got an appointment. See you bastards later.”
Jace grabbed a coffee to go and strode out of the restaurant and into the blustery winter day.
Chapter Two
Check Engine
In the middle of downtown Red Valley, Violet James’ Volkswagen Jetta began to sputter and cough. Frantically she scanned the street for a parking space and, with a little help from the nearly gale force wind, coasted into a vacant spot next to the curb just as the engine died.
She looked at the dash for some indication of what was wrong, but all the gauges played dead. Groaning, she turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened.
“Great,” she muttered and banged her head against the steering wheel. Why did the worst things always happen when you were already running late?
When she looked up, the ‘check engine’ light flickered and then the little gas pump light lit up.
“Ah, now you tell me,” she groaned, blaming the light.
Despite having a handy dandy little gas level gage that was specifically for the sole
purpose of warning her about her tank level, Violet was officially out of gas.
Mondays really were the worst day of the week.
How could she be so stupid? She normally didn’t forget important things like keeping her car filled with gas. But in Violet’s defense, Patricia did have her running around town like a chicken with its head cut off. When Violet had agreed to go into business with her best friend, she had no idea Pats would rule with an unwavering iron fist and enforce an inflexible schedule of appointments.
Violet glared at the gas light on the dashboard. Too bad she’d decided not to spring for the roadside assistance coverage on her auto insurance policy. The extra five bucks a month didn’t seem like such a waste of money now.
There was only one thing left to do. Violet dug her phone out of her purse, bit the bullet and dialed Patricia’s number.
“Hello, you’ve reached Patricia Liles of Healing Touch Massage Therapy…”
With a heavy sigh, Violet disconnected the call. It was no use. When Patricia didn’t answer her phone, it usually meant she was with a client. Then again, when wasn’t she with a client? She kept the appointment book at Healing Touch scheduled to the max. But thanks to Patricia’s perseverance, their massage business was working its way out of the red. They were doing so well that Violet could finally afford a vacation. That is, if Patricia let her clear her schedule long enough to take one. Fat chance.
Just in case Lady Luck was on her side this morning, Violet tried to start the car one more time. Nope. Out of sheer determination and probably a dash of spite, the gas light continued to glow. No pennies from heaven today.
Violet contemplated the other people in her life whom she could call for help. Her parents were out of town celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary and her three brothers were scattered all over the country. Jeremy was on tour with his band, Brayden was in Sacramento scoping out classic cars for the family business and Tanner was most likely elbow deep in a game of blackjack at the newly remodeled casino in Baker’s Bluff. Violet wouldn’t call her brothers anyway because they’d never let her hear the end of it. And frankly, Tanner was just as unreliable as her gas gage.
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