Razors Ice 04 - Hot Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  The office was decorated in muted earth tones and Zen music played softly in the background. Patricia’s lucky bamboo plant sat on its usual place on the counter. A variety of green potted plants and lush ferns were painstakingly arranged around the waiting area. The relaxing décor was Patricia’s doing because Violet couldn’t keep a cactus alive even if her life depended on it.

  “Nice day for a stroll, huh, Pats?” Violet joked through her numb lips. The short dash inside from the parking lot had left her cold again.

  Patricia looked up from the front desk with a look of confusion contorting her lean face. Patricia wore the same polo shirt and slacks uniform as Violet and her soccer mom haircut was meticulously smoothed and hair sprayed into place. “Not particularly,” she answered. “What are you talking about?”

  Violet draped her arms over the counter and Patricia frowned. “You’ll never believe what happened to me this morning.”

  Patricia rolled her eyes. “You weren’t abducted by aliens, were you?”

  “No.” More like a tall drink of athletic water. And he hadn’t technically abducted her. He’d just been at the right place at the right time. With the right amount of sex appeal to jumpstart her libido back to life.

  No, Violet chastised herself. She wasn’t allowed to think about that.

  “My car ran out of gas, so I had to walk partway here. Thankfully, someone was nice enough to drive me the rest of the way.” Violet rubbed her hands together as her circulation began circulating again. Man, what a morning.

  “You got a ride from a stranger?” Patricia asked in horror. “Violet, what have I told you about—?”

  “He was a…a Good Samaritan,” Violet cut in, falling short of doing justice to the magnificent male specimen who had come to her rescue. Huh. She hadn’t even gotten his name. Dang it. That was unfortunate. It would have been nice to put a name to that face. And body. And those hands…

  “Are you okay?” Patricia asked with the motherly tone she always used with her five year old son, Carter.

  “Yeah.” Violet took off her coat and then panic gripped her. “I’m not late, am I?” She glanced over at the clock in the waiting area and it read 10:24. Patricia was motherly, but she’d skin Violet’s hide if she was even a minute late.

  “No,” Patricia replied sounding almost disappointed. “As a matter of fact, your 10:30 hasn’t even arrived yet.” That definitely disappointed her. Clients who were late threw the entire schedule into a tailspin. “Since we have a few minutes, can I talk to you in the office for a quick second?”

  “Sure. I need to put my coat away anyway.”

  In the office, Violet hung up her useless excuse for a jacket and stashed her purse in the bottom drawer of the desk. She combed through her auburn hair with her hands before pulling it back into a messy pony tail.

  Patricia came in behind her and sat down at the desk while Violet stood.

  “So, how’s your friend Dennie?” Violet asked.

  Patricia huffed. “Friend doesn’t belong in that sentence, Violet, and you know it.”

  After Patricia and her husband, John, had separated, Patricia went on a date with Dennie after meeting him at a coffee shop. Patricia thought he was harmless enough, but after only one date, Dennie quickly became obsessed. When she told him things weren’t going to work out between them, he turned all stalker-y on her.

  “Sorry,” Violet mumbled. But the idea of Plain Jane Patricia having a stalker seemed much too farfetched for Violet to comprehend.

  “And to answer your question, I haven’t heard from Dennie in a while. Things have been pretty quiet since I filed a restraining order.”

  “Jeez, Pats.” Violet grew serious and her voice became concerned rather than skeptical. “A restraining order? Did something happen that you didn’t tell me about?”

  Patricia made a pained expression and let out a heavy sigh. “Dennie showed up at my house last week and…”

  Violet gasped. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “No. He just grabbed me and tried to push his way into the house.”

  “Oh, no!” Violet exclaimed. “Was Carter home when this happened?”

  “No, luckily he was still in school.”

  “You think he’ll try to bother you again?”

  “Let’s hope not. But just in case, I’ve made it into sort of a game for Carter. He knows to tell me or his teacher if he sees Dennie or his truck hanging around the school.”

  “Kind of like Where’s Waldo?”

  “Yeah. A creepy, delusional Where’s Waldo? Anyway,” Patricia waved her hand, dismissing the thought of Dennie and his creepiness. “I’ve got good news.”

  “Good,” Violet sighed. “Because I thought you might have called me in here to scold me or something.” Violet plopped into a chair and propped her feet on the desk.

  Patricia frowned at Violet’s feet. “Why? Did you do something wrong? Oh, never mind.” She shooed Violet’s feet off the desk. “I don’t even want to know. Listen, Violet, things are looking up. My friend Gordon Martin called me last night.”

  “Oooh, Pats.” Violet cooed and leaned forward, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Am I sensing a little late night phone sex or a flat out booty call?”

  Patricia rolled her eyes and primly straightened the cardigan sweater she wore over her polo shirt. “Neither, Violet. Now, please focus. Gordon has given us a fantastic business opportunity.” Patricia stood, retrieved a file from the cabinet and sat back down.

  Violet rolled the name around, trying to remember where she’d heard it before. Gordon Martin. “Gordon Martin,” she said out loud, hoping it would jar her memory. “He works for the Razors right?”

  The Razors were Red Valley’s professional ice hockey team. Despite the team’s lousy record, the United National Hockey League was proud to have a team in Northern California and the city was hopelessly loyal to them. No matter how disastrously they fared in the division’s standings.

  “Yes.” Patricia looked surprised that Violet would remember. “Gordon is the Razors’ massage therapist and he’s looking for some outside help. The team has a lot of injured players right now and massage obviously helps keep them loose and healthy. Gordon asked me if he could refer some players to us. This could be really great for us, Violet.”

  Violet’s eyes widened at the opportunity. This meant they’d make ends meet for the month and she’d get to work on real athletes. This was great news! “And…,” she prompted.

  “And,” Patricia continued, “I told him we would absolutely love to be of service.” With a special interest in sports massage, Patricia was looking forward to working on a professional athlete as opposed to the minor players and weekend warriors she sometimes saw. “In fact, our first player just happens to be your 10:30. He’s scheduled for Mondays and Wednesdays and more often if needed. I have one of his teammates coming in later this afternoon. I know you want to focus on specializing in seniors, but I could really use your help. Whenever these guys need us, we have to make ourselves available.”

  Violet swallowed and her stomach quivered in anticipation. “Great.” Today wasn’t looking so bad after all.

  “Gordon already sent over his medical information and I created a folder for him.”

  Patricia handed Violet the folder and she scanned the file. Broken wrist five years ago. Concussion three years ago. Partial tear of the medial collateral ligament in his knee. A variety of broken bones, a concussion and multiple skin lacerations. Yup, that was her hockey player all right.

  “Do you think you can give me a ride to the gas station?” Violet asked, closing the folder. “After my 10:30 of course.”

  Patricia huffed the same way she did when Carter asked a question that was impossible to answer. “There isn’t time. You’re booked through the afternoon.”

  Of course she was. Sometimes Violet thought she should have Patricia schedule in potty breaks, too.

  “I’ll take you to the gas station later. Why didn’t you ca
ll Phillip?”

  Naturally Patricia would ask that question. Just because Violet’s fiancé was a doctor, everyone automatically assumed that he was Mr. Amazing and Dependable. Too bad their relationship wasn’t so amazing and dependable behind closed doors.

  “He’s usually in surgery all morning,” Violet answered, not telling her the real reason. No one wanted to hear about her problems. Least of all Patricia. When her marriage had crumbled and her ex had fled the scene, she’d been left to raise Carter all by herself. The last thing Patricia wanted to hear was all about how Violet’s successful fiancé was an incredible jerk.

  The bell on the front door jingled and Patricia smiled. “That must be your hockey player. Well, you don’t want to keep him waiting now, do you?”

  Violet got up and made her way into the waiting room, scanning the player’s file one last time. So, they were really getting the business of a bona fide hockey club. If business continued to pick up, they might eventually be able to move to a bigger office like Patricia was always rambling on about. Patricia’s dream was to expand Healing Touch into a wellness clinic complete with a nutritionist on duty, spa and the whole shebang. It didn’t make much difference to Violet because she made so many house calls that she was rarely at the office anyway. Either way, business was looking up.

  Violet would have sighed in relief, but she was too distracted by the hunk of man sitting in the waiting area. The first thing she noticed about him was how he seemed to fill up the tiny space and leave room for nothing else. Including oxygen. His presence alone was enough to buckle her knees.

  When he looked up from the magazine he was flipping through and met her gaze, she nearly dropped the folder in surprise. “It’s you!” Violet exclaimed.

  “It’s me,” replied her Good Samaritan.

  Violet looked down at the red tab on the file that Patricia had neatly labeled with her color-coding system. “Jace…McQuaid. Jace McQuaid, the hockey player?” Obviously, she thought, resisting the urge to smack the heel of her hand against her forehead.

  “The one and only,” he smirked.

  She slapped her hand against thigh. “That’s where I’ve seen you! I knew you looked familiar. Gosh, I didn’t recognize you without your helmet on.”

  He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you were looking at me funny on the ride over here?”

  She flushed. “That and I was deciding whether or not you were a rapist,” she admitted with a laugh.

  “Ah.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “What made you decide to trust me?”

  She thought about it and replied, “Your eyes.” She looked into their blue depths and once again what she saw there gave her the shivers. “You have trustworthy eyes,” she decided with a nod.

  “Thanks.”

  From inside the office, Patricia cleared her throat and Violet reluctantly wrenched her eyes away from their sexy new client. She could almost hear her partner scolding her through the thin walls.

  Stop chatting with the cute boy, Violet.

  Yes mother!

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Jace, I almost forgot.” Violet took a step forward and stuck her hand out. “My name is Violet and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

  Oops. Maybe that wasn’t the wisest choice of words.

  “Hello, Violet.” He shook her soft hand with his big calloused one and didn’t seem to notice her nerves getting the best of her.

  In the split second that his rough palm held hers, Violet imagined that hand on other places on her skin. She imagined him running his hands over her shoulders and down the length of her spine. Up her legs, over her knees and between her thighs. His touch would be firm yet gentle. Gentle yet always in control. Always knowing right where to caress. Right where to…

  But that wasn’t what he was there for. She was the one who was going to do all the touching. She was the one who was scheduled to give him a massage. For a full hour.

  Phew! It really was warm in here. Violet contemplated stepping outside to cool off, but there wasn’t time for that. She could already imagine Patricia’s eyes boring a hole into her skull through the wall.

  Violet motioned to Jace and smiled. “Well, let’s go ahead and get started.”

  She led Jace down the hallway, mindful that he was close behind her. Inside the room, once again, his body took up most of the cozy space. Violet was used to being around big men—her brothers were all over six feet tall—but Jace had a presence about him that commanded her to take notice. And take notice she did.

  A spark of sexual electricity whizzed through her veins and straight to her core.

  Shaking off the unnecessary and completely unprofessional feeling, Violet concentrated on the task at hand. She had Jace sit on the table while she sat on the swivel chair across from him.

  “I just have a few routine questions before we get started.” Violet proceeded to get an idea of his medical history so she would know how to treat him more effectively and found out the types of massage he preferred.

  While she made sure the medical information in his file was accurate and up-to-date, Jace looked down at her hands. They were slender and her fingers were pale like the rest of her. Her nails were kept short and neat and she didn’t wear any jewelry, or more specifically, a wedding ring. But she probably wouldn’t wear one anyway in her line of work with all the oil it involved. Oil. Jace was looking forward to her slathering him in oil and rubbing her hands all over his body…

  Christ, breakfast with his teammates had only increased his appetite. And he wasn’t craving hash browns anymore.

  Violet could sense Jace’s eyes on her, raking over her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Soft music played through invisible speakers, but it did nothing to calm Violet’s nerves.

  “So,” she said, desperately trying to get back on track. “Are there any specific areas you’d like me to focus on?”

  Oh, God, that didn’t help things at all. There was only one area she could think of and it was strictly off limits.

  “I’ve been having some tightness in my shoulder,” he responded.

  “Okay.”

  “I just need to stay loose.” Once his muscles tightened up, he felt and walked like an eighty-year-old. And he couldn’t have that.

  Violet showed him some stretches to do for “homework” for any muscles that became tight.

  “I’m on injured reserve for the shoulder, but my knee is what bothers me the most. They’re talking about surgery on the shoulder, but I wanna wait ‘til the end of the season.” He stopped talking and clamped his jaw shut. Jesus, he sounded like a decrepit weakling. His body really was falling apart faster than he could put it back together again.

  “I’m sorry about your injury. You were having such a stellar season.”

  He looked surprised that she would a) know anything about hockey and b) know who the hell he was. “You follow the Razors? I didn’t have you pegged as the hockey type.”

  When she smiled, he tore his gaze from her plump lips and back up to her eyes. God, she really had no clue how sexy she was, did she? And he had thought that before he found out she followed hockey.

  What type did you have me pegged for? she wanted to ask. “I grew up with three brothers and didn’t have much of a choice,” she replied instead. “I had to know players’ names and stats on cue or I’d end up in a three-way headlock. But even now that I’m older and have a choice, hockey is the only sport I watch. Once you watch hockey, everything else seems so boring in comparison.”

  He thumped his fist against his chest. “A woman after my own heart.”

  Violet smiled and shook her head in disbelief. “Jace McQuaid,” she muttered. “I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”

  “Without the jersey, all of us hockey players look alike,” he joked.

  “Hardly,” she scoffed. “Gosh, I haven’t been to a game in forever. The last time I went was last year, I think. Yeah, I took Patricia and her son. Carter was four
and he ate during the entire game. First it was a hot dog, then it was nachos and then came the popcorn. He threw a fit during intermission when we told him he couldn’t ride the Zamboni, but thankfully someone came around selling cotton candy, so we pawned some of that off on him. Personally, I can’t eat during a hockey game. It’s so fast-paced, that you can look away for a split second and miss out on an important play.”

  Jace fought the urge to pinch himself. Was this woman for real? Or was she part of some elaborate joke the guys were playing on him? He wouldn’t put it past them. His teammates were notorious pranksters.

  Here ya go, Ace. Here’s the woman of your dreams all wrapped up in a sexy package. Oh, and she likes hockey and does massage, too.

  “It’s even faster when you’re on the ice,” Jace said wistfully. He hadn’t been on the ice in a few days and the reminder took some of the air out of his sails.

  Violet gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, I’m just going to step out for a few minutes so you can undress.”

  Violet’s voice shook Jace from his pity party. “Okay.”

  “Go ahead and cover yourself with the sheet and lay on the table face down.” She waved her hand and gave a nervous laugh. “I’m sure you know the drill by now.”

  “Yeah. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

  Violet dropped her hand and swallowed. The word rodeo brought to mind one thing: reverse cowgirl.

  Before her mind had the chance to think up anymore inappropriate positions she’d like to find herself in with a man like Jace, she slipped from the room. She found Patricia at the reception desk watering her bamboo plant.

  Violet dramatically wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Hubba hubba. Why haven’t we had more athletes come in before, Pats? We’ve definitely been missing out.”

  “Violet,” Patricia chided and straightened her bamboo plant exactly a quarter of an inch to the right.