Come Undone: A Hockey Romance

by Penny Dee

  Finding my boots by the front door I pulled them on, awkwardly balancing on one leg as I slid up the zips.

  “Are you seriously trying to sneak away?”

  Jake’s voice startled me and I swung around.

  Lying there tangled in the sheets and blankets, naked and wearing only a delicious, dimpled grin on his face, he looked too sexy for words. When he sat up, his tight stomach rippled with muscle and the mere sight of him sent desire spiraling throughout every nerve and fiber of my being.

  Jesus Christ, he was a gorgeous human being.

  “I don’t think you’ve thought your escape route out thoroughly,” he said with a grin. “You know, considering we’re fifteen miles out of town and your car is probably under a layer of snow.”

  The humor left his face when I looked him in the eye and he saw the panic there. He immediately sat up straighter.

  “Z—”

  “I have go,” I said, and unable to bear the look on his face looked away and began to hunt for my gloves.

  “Where are we going?” he asked it as if nothing was wrong, but at the same time his voice tight and braced for the bad stuff he knew was coming.

  I turned back to face him. My anxiety attack began to wane but that only opened the doors for a flood of guilt to wash through me. “Jake—”

  He cut me off. “What happened, Mackenzie?”

  “I have to get back to the real world,” I said meekly. It was a pathetic reply. Especially since the two people in this cabin both knew I was running away.

  “Don’t do this, Z.”

  He said my nickname with such affection I had no choice but to look at him. He deserved to know why I was leaving but I didn’t know how to tell him.

  I looked away to collect my thoughts but then cast my eyes back to him. “Last night . . . the night before . . . it shouldn’t have happened.”

  Hurt rippled across his face and he grit his teeth. “Why?”

  I stopped and frowned. “We both know this has only complicated things.”

  He swallowed and I watched the rise of his broad chest as he drew in a deep breath. His eyes narrowed. “So, that’s it. We’re done?”

  My heart ached at the thought. But what choice did I have?

  I sat down on the bed—a safe distance from him.

  He deserved to know that I wasn’t running because we had made love.

  But how did I tell him I was running because I had fallen in love with him?

  He didn’t need that complication right now.

  I thought of Purgatory and momentarily closed my eyes. I needed to keep my eye on the goal and not get distracted by—by whatever this was.

  Which was nothing.

  I couldn’t love Jake. Because his future was riding on it.

  I stood up and only half-turned to him, not making eye contact as I said, “I’m sorry, Jake. But I have to go.”

  * * *

  Jake

  The slapping sting of her rejection made me suddenly acquiescent.

  Right. So, I was her fling and now she was going to walk away like it was no big deal?

  Pain was a tornado through my stomach. This was a big deal. To me. It was a big fucking deal.

  Whether she wanted to believe it or not, I had given her a piece of me last night and at the same time I had taken a piece of her.

  This was not some casual fling.

  But the look on Mackenzie’s face told me otherwise.

  No. It screamed otherwise. It was right up in my face, telling me how we weren’t on the same page. Hell, gauging by her reaction we weren’t even in the same book.

  She regretted what we had done and damn if that wasn’t like a knife going straight into my chest.

  I had to laugh at the irony. She was the first girl I’d wanted in a long time—possibly forever—and she couldn’t wait to get away from me.

  Hurt and sadness collided inside of me and it was impossible to keep coldness out of my tone. “Well, you’d better go then.”

  She shifted awkwardly on her feet and shoved her hands in her back pockets. Doing this made her shirt strain against the swell of her breasts and for a fleeting moment my mind rolled back to last night, when I had slid my tongue across the ample rise of flesh and closed my lips over a perky, pink nipple.

  I exhaled deeply to vanquish the memory. Now was not the time. I was being dumped. I was being walked away from and it was crushing me.

  But tell that to my dick.

  “Um . . . ah . . . so, I guess I’ll call you once I’ve set up a meeting?” she said.

  My jaw tensed and my eyes never left her face. “I guess so.”

  She turned her head to look out the window and when she frowned, I followed her gaze. Outside, her rental was lost under several layers of snow.

  “I’ll take care of it,” I said, ignoring the ache in my stomach as I grabbed the shovel hanging from a nail on the wall by the door.

  Mackenzie was walking out on me and I hated it, but I wasn’t going to let her kill herself doing it. I would make sure her rental car was good to drive her away from me safely.

  Outside the chill of the early morning air stung my face. But it was nothing compared to the bitter cold loneliness I felt creeping back into my heart. Four days ago I had craved the isolation of the cabin. But now that I knew what it felt like with Mackenzie, the idea of the isolation terrified me.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said as I started shifting snow.

  “Just because you’re running away from me doesn’t mean I don’t want you to do it safely,” I said, shoveling snow from her car.

  “I’m not running away from you.”

  I stopped shoveling to look at her. “Then what do you call this?”

  “I was always leaving. I was supposed to go yesterday. Remember?”

  “That was before . . .” I stopped. Before what? Before we fucked? Made love? Fell in love?

  “Just because we had sex doesn’t mean anything has changed.”

  I straightened. “Don’t kid yourself, Z. We made love. And it changed everything.”

  Emotion shimmered across her face and she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

  “I have to go,” she whispered, more to herself than me. As if she was reminding herself even though it was the last thing she really wanted to do. And for a moment I thought she might say to hell with it and stay. But when she opened her eyes, they settled on me with a determined focus.

  “Goodbye, Jake.” She opened the car door. “I’ll call you. Okay?”

  No, this was not okay.

  I shook my head. “Don’t go, Z.”

  She swallowed hard but didn’t say anything more. She simply climbed in her car and drove away.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mackenzie

  Don Sandusky was the newest coach of the Galveston Fury. He had been hired by team owner, Johnny Pepper, to gather up what little respect the team name had left and shepherd them out from the bowels of the leader board. For the last five years he had been languishing in retirement after a remarkable career as a pro hockey player in the early 1980s, followed by a successful career in coaching where he led three teams to the Stanley Cup playoffs. He had retired to Florida but had been enticed away from the Sunshine State with a big fat retainer.

  Don Sandusky was a man who knew hockey.

  He was also a man of routine. He liked routine. He lived by routine. He was routine.

  Which made my job a little easier.

  Every Saturday you could find him at the Fisherman’s Friend Bar & Grill on Seawall Boulevard, downing twenty-year-old scotch and watching ESPN while chatting with Old Murray, the bartender.

  And this was exactly where I found him.

  Sliding onto the stool next to him, I ordered a brandy from Old Murray and took in the game on the TV set above the bar.

  I ordered another brandy for me and a Glenfiddich for Don.

  “And what do I owe this pleasure?” Don
asked me.

  No words passed between us as Old Murray poured our drinks, and then pushed them across the bar.

  “Are you a reporter?” Don asked.

  “No.” I handed him his scotch and we clinked glasses. “Sports management.”

  “Ah,” he nodded and threw back a mouthful of the scotch. “Worse.”

  He stood up to leave, throwing a few bills down on the bar.

  I had to think quick before he walked out. “I think I can help the Fury win a spot in the Stanley Cup playoffs.”

  That stopped him. Well, it piqued his interested, at least. He turned skeptic eyes toward me.

  “Oh, yeah? You got a magic wand, lil’ lady?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve got something better.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Jake Pennington.”

  He scoffed. But I could tell I had his attention because he leaned against the bar.

  “That drunk? His time is done. He’s got no form left. Last I heard he was lost in the bottom of a bottle.”

  I smiled. “He’s in the best shape of his life.”

  Another scoff. But Don still didn’t leave. “Sure he is.” I pulled my cell from my bag, found the recorded footage of Jake’s pond game and placed it on the bar next to the crusty old coach.

  He couldn’t help himself. Two seconds of watching it and my phone was in his hot little hands and his eyes glued to the screen.

  The clip was three minutes and forty-two seconds long.

  I had him within the first minute.

  He eased himself down on the stool next to me, intrigued with what he was watching.

  When the clip finished he handed me the phone back. “Okay, you have my attention.”

  I offered him a knowing smile. “I thought I might.”

  “I’ll meet with him.”

  I tilted my head. If he thought I was going to be a pushover, then he was wrong. “No. He doesn’t come down here without an offer.”

  Don pushed up on the bar to stand. He was going to leave.

  “You’re three down, Don. Your star defense is buried so deep in a cocaine and hooker scandal he’s going to need a map to get back. You have a winger with a serious drinking problem, not to mention poor fashion sense. And your captain is facing time for sexual misconduct with an underage girl who is now pregnant with his baby. Two of your major sponsors are already gone and Johnny Pepper is understandably pissed. Every time your team fucks up, it costs him money. Not to mention pushes him three steps back from the Stanley Cup. You’re at the bottom of the leader board, Don, and everyone knows it. No one sees you as a threat. You’re just there to make up numbers. Why, the New York City Ice Cats even told Time they were going to mop the floor with you guys just to have something to do.” I watched as pride and pain conflicted in his wise old eyes. “Come on, Coach, what better way to stick it to everyone than by having Jake Pennington step out onto that ice as a Fury. Isn’t it time you mop the floor with these smart-ass, show pony teams that think they are so much better than you? Now I know you have untapped funds now that your star is toast and you have two wingers facing jail time. And I know for a fact that if you wave Pennington in front of Johnny Pepper he’ll get a boner for the idea.” I threw back another mouthful of brandy, letting my argument marinade inside the coach. “Jake comes down here, leads your team through the last nine weeks of the season and you pay him an even mil. He gets you to the Cup playoffs and it’s one and three quarters.”

  I had done the math. There was still time for the Fury to make it to the Cup playoffs as a wild card. If they had Jake.

  Don’s eyes glittered across at me. Suddenly he burst out laughing like I was a freaking stand-up comic. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  I stayed stoic. I had never made a hockey deal in my life and I was probably way out of my league. But I wouldn’t let Coach think that for a minute. I knew Jake was worth it.

  My eye contact didn’t waiver. I even folded my arms and gave him a confident, close-lipped smile.

  “I may have a great sense of humor, Coach. But I never joke about business.”

  His smile faded as he thought for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed and he asked, “What makes you think Pennington can get our team to the playoffs?”

  I selected another clip on my phone. It was the one of Jake fooling around on the ice. Actually, he’d been showing off more than anything—tearing across the frozen pond and then quicker than a blink of an eye he was skating backwards. The clip was only thirty-six seconds long, but it was half a minute of proof that Jake still knew what he was doing on the ice. The speed and skill was still there. He had only needed to get his passion back.

  And I had a feeling it was on its way.

  “I know he can. You’ve just got to ask yourself if you’re ready to get there.” I tapped the bar with a perfectly manicured fingernail. French polish. They were my only attempt at being girlie. “What do you say, Coach. We got a deal?”

  “You know, my daddy always said a handshake was as good as a signature on a piece of paper,” Coach said in his thick Texan drawl.

  “My daddy said a deal wasn’t a deal until you signed on the dotted line.”

  Coach laughed and then nodded. “I like you.”

  “I’ll like you a whole lot better when I drop by your office tomorrow and you have a contract waiting for me.” I stood up and threw back the last of my brandy. “Let’s say around two o’clock? Does that work for you?”

  He thought for a moment and then nodded in defeat. “One big one for the season and the Cup playoffs.”

  “One and a half.”

  “One one,” he countered.

  “One million two hundred and fifty,” I countered back.

  “You have a deal.”

  We shook hands. “See you tomorrow.”

  As I began to walk away he said, “Just so you know, I would’ve given you one five.”

  I turned and winked at him. “And I would’ve agreed to an even one million.”

  As I turned and walked out, I couldn’t help but grin. People thought the big deals were made in skyscrapers inside glass and chrome offices by executives in Armani suits using gold pens to sign multimillion-dollar contracts. So far my two biggest meetings in this business happened in a bar. Sports deals in a bar—the irony wasn’t lost on me. My way was a lot more fun.

  * * *

  Johnny Pepper was an eccentric oil tycoon worth billions. A cigar chain smoker with only a whisper of hair left on his head, he was as tall as an ewok and when he spoke he sounded as if he had drank bleach and broken glass for breakfast.

  He was also a control freak.

  So it was no surprise to find him waiting for me in Coach’s office the next day when I stopped by to work out Jake’s contract.

  In fact, it was exactly what I had anticipated.

  And needed.

  Because Johnny Pepper needed to be more than aware of Jake Pennington and I needed to get him excited about Jake playing for the Galveston Fury. The quicker he realized how important Jake was to the Fury, the better.

  That goal took me all of two minutes. As soon as he saw my footage of Jake on the ice he picked up his phone. “Dusty, get the jet ready. We’re going to New York.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jake

  Leaving the cabin and the best four days of my life behind me, I returned home to find a party in full swing at my apartment in New York. An old high school buddy was staying in my apartment for a couple of days while his house got fumigated, and in an attempt to cheer me up and pull me out of my I killed my best friend funk, he’d decided to throw me a party when he heard I was coming back.

  Which was the last thing I wanted.

  As I walked through the front door Avenged Sevenfold blasted from speakers throughout the apartment. Every light in the joint was on and there were people everywhere. A couple was making out on the couch in the family room and another up against the wall in the
hallway. In the kitchen two girls had a guy bailed up against the counter and were telling him off. They pointed their fingers at his chest and their heavily made up eyes were wide as they yelled at him.

  I found Josh on the patio by the barbeque, with a girl under each arm.

  “Hey, buddy!” He ditched the girls and strode across the impressive outdoor living area to give me a big hug. Because the central heating was turned up, half the people there were barely dressed. It was like a pool party without the pool. In winter. Josh was dressed in a bright pink and yellow Hawaiian shirt and boardshorts. On top of his unruly hair was a “Gone Fishing” slouch hat.

  He greeted me with a hug and then pointed to my shaved face.

  “Dude, you’re not rocking the fuzz,” he said, and then standing back shook his head. “Jesus Christ, you really are a handsome sonofabitch.”

  I smiled, but it was half-hearted. Because I was half-hearted. Because the girl I was falling in love with had run away from me.

  “Good to be home?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, but I think I might hit the sack.”

  Josh looked alarmed. “Dude, look at what’s going on around you. It’s a party, man. Time to let your hair down and have a bit of fun!”

  I looked around the apartment at all the people. I didn’t want to party. I wanted to find Mackenzie and pull her to me, to kiss and touch her, to spend the rest of my life making love to her.

  I watched as two guys I didn’t even know fooled around with a blow-up sex doll on the sofa. One drew a giant penis beside her mouth while the other one lost his shit laughing.

  I shook my head. I should’ve stayed at the cabin. But I couldn’t bear the emptiness and the solitude with Mackenzie gone.