“WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” I ask no one in particular as I stand in the owner’s box overlooking the arena. Wade isn’t answering on the earpiece anymore, and I have no one else to ask immediately about the chaotic scene I just witnessed.
We’re in the first home series of a new season and my new star center, who cost me a fortune in a trade with Seattle, just left the ice to kiss Danielle.
That was not how this was supposed to go.
What the hell?
I’d put her in that front row. I’d told the media booth to pan over those seats often as they did the scans of the crowd for the jumbotron throughout the game. I knew where she was sitting, but couldn’t see her well from clear up here, and I wanted to make sure everything was going okay with her date with Dumbass Ben.
Okay, I also wanted to keep looking at her.
The guys in the media booth had given me a funny look, but I’d dropped the order and left. I don’t care what they think. No one would question me out loud. They can talk about my crazy requests behind my back, as long as they do what I say.
But how had, ‘pan over that section periodically, especially the redhead’ turned into ‘put the redhead and her dickhead date on the Kiss Cam’?
I’d also put a device in the ear of Wade, the kid who dresses up as Sammy the mascot, so I could talk to him when he took the VIP ticket down to Danielle after the second period. I wanted him to personally deliver the note and gift from me, but I’d also wanted to dictate what he should say to her. And I’d wanted to hear her response.
He certainly wasn’t supposed to try to kiss her.
Not that her kissing the stuffed dog head would have been a real kiss but still… what had Wade been thinking? Sure, his job is to ham it up, make the crowd laugh, and sometimes he has to think on his feet during fan interactions.
But how the fuck had my very clear order to Wade– do not let that man kiss her– when I’d seen Ben leaning in, turn into her falling, smacking her head, Michael Hughes climbing into the stands, and then Crew Fucking McNeill kissing her?
I swear under my breath and resist throwing my phone against the wall since I’m not alone in the box.
Is she hurt? Is she in pain? I’m going to hurt someone if so.
The game starts again, but the camera pans back over Danielle and her friends. Her cheeks are still pink and her friend, the beautiful woman with the silver hair next to her, says something that makes them both laugh.
I stop and stare. I want to see Danielle in person again.
I probably shouldn’t want that. She looks young. Too young. Forty-one year old men shouldn’t feel jealous of hot shot jocks that can pull shit like jumping into the stands to kiss a girl like her while an arena full of fans cheer and snap photos and take videos.
But I do. Feel jealous, that is.
I also definitely want to see her again.
The fans ate up that entire stunt Crew pulled and I should love that. People will be posting about it and talking for days.
Instead of being pleased, however, I want to pull my impulsive new center into my office and chew his ass.
How dare he come off the ice and plant a kiss on some random fan like that?
I would be justified in disciplining him.
But looking at the redhead, I get it.
This girl…I am so damned grateful for that jumbotron that allows me to study her fully. And the fact that I own the footage and can go back and watch all of it over again just so I can see all of her facial expressions. Surprise, pleasure, embarrassment, delight.
I can’t really blame Crew for abandoning everything for a chance to kiss Danielle.
Who is probably now going to sue the team both for the concussion from being dropped on her head by Sammy the Malamute and for sexual assault by one of my players.
Of course it’s number seventeen. None of my other players would pull that shit. He’s an expensive player who is supposed to save the season, not thrust the team into scandal.
Crew McNeill plays aggressively and sometimes impulsively, but always gets results. This is not the result I’m looking for. Since my grandfather officially retired five years earlier, I’ve been solely in charge of all the major decisions as co-owner. At forty one, I’ve been involved in the team since I graduated with my MBA, but I’ve technically been co-owner since I was twelve, when my father passed away.
This team means everything to me. I want a championship for my grandfather before he no longer can comprehend what it means. He watches the games on his big screen from his private room at the exclusive nursing home where he has incredibly expensive around-the-clock care. But no matter how much money I give that place, the doctors, even the research teams, can’t stave off the Alzheimer’s that is stealing him away. Some day, my grandfather–the man who took me in and raised me after my parents died–will no longer know the team or the sport that has brought him so much joy and pride. He won’t know me. Or that I was the one who took care of his team for him.
This season has to be the one. For him.
That’s why I took the chance on Crew McNeill. I am not going to let my newest punk ass player fuck everything up.
Yanking on the neck of my T-shirt, suddenly feeling strangled by it in the private box, I pull out my phone and text Michael, our team physician. Who, for some fucking reason, was also in the stands with the redhead.
Did I mention she’s adorable?
Even facedown with her ass in the air.
Yes, I know how that sounds. No, I’m not sorry.
Is Danielle
I delete that.
Michael does not need to know that I know her name.
Is that girl okay?
He doesn’t answer right away, which gives me time to pace back and forth in my Italian leather shoes and glance obsessively at the jumbotron, hoping the camera crew will pan back around and land on her adorable face again.
It’s ridiculous how much I love seeing her in that Racketeers t-shirt. It’s ridiculous how I can still feel how it felt to have her gaze on my bare chest and abs.
It’s ridiculous how much I hate that asshole Ben.
She’s fucking adorable and I want her.
Adorable is not my type. The word is not even in my vernacular. I’m not an “adorable” kind of guy. Until now, apparently.
I gravitate toward type A career women who want sex occasionally just to work off some pent-up stress and let their hair down, and are happy to do so with a guy who feels the same way. No emotion or strings involved. Women who don’t attach and who understand that I have zero intention of falling in love with any of them. Women who don’t ask me about my personal life or my feelings, and I don’t ask them about theirs.
Why the hell am I thinking about love and that I don’t give or receive any? Or that I’d like to wipe all memory of Crew McNeill’s kiss from her lips with my own mouth. With a man’s kiss– possessive and dominating and powerful… Jesus.
My phone vibrates in my hand and, grateful for the distraction, I immediately open the text from Michael.
Seems fine, but I’m checking in with her after the game.
Good, I really need to be sure she’s fine. If she’s hurt or in any kind of pain, I will fix it. I text back.
Tell me her status immediately when you know.
But I need to talk to Danielle again, myself. I need to make sure she’s alright myself.
I also need to be sure that she got my gift. And accepted it. I want her at the next game beside me. Fuck that loser Ben. I want her watching the Racketeers in this box with me. Far from Crew McNeill’s reach.
Michael texts me.
Why?
I scowl at Michael’s response. I want to say ‘because I fucking said so’. Why can’t anyone just do what I tell them to tonight?
I take a deep breath and respond. Because I’d like to… Fuck, I can’t tell Michael what I’d like to do to Danielle.
Make sure she doesn’t sue us.
I wouldn’t worry about that. She doesn’t seem upset. She’s quite…
I wait for him to complete that sentence but it takes several seconds.
Adorable.
I’ve known Michael Hughes for three years. We’re not exactly friends, but I respect him and am damned glad he’s the one in charge of the health of my team. And we’ve interacted enough for me to know that he also does not use the word ‘adorable’ on a regular basis.
Dammit. He sees it too. I instantly hate that.
Just report in after you see her.
There’s a long pause with no response from Michael and I pace the length of the box twice.
Crew McNeill shoots down the ice with the puck. I move closer to the window, scowling. That little shit is going to score again.
Why am I irritated by that? He’s playing for my team for fuck’s sake.
At the last minute, the Beaver’s defense knocks the puck away from him and I let out a breath.
I’m really messed up right now.
Finally Michael texts back.
Will do.
I slide my phone into my pocket, then shove a hand through my hair.
My heart is pounding, my gut is tight, I’m pacing, my hair is mussed.
How did this night get so out of control so fast?
I blame my PR people for thinking I needed to personally hand out VIP tickets tonight.
No, I blame Sammy the Malamute. How hard is it to deliver a simple envelope with a note and a game ticket for fuck’s sake?
No, I blame Ben, the plaid-wearing drunk. Who does he think he is to be on a date with Danielle?
No, I blame pretty-boy-hockey-wonder Crew McNeill.
Yes, this is definitely Crew’s fault.
Because adorable redheads probably are his type.
Crew
I grin down at the text from my sister.
I took Dani to the back hallway outside the locker rooms. The doctor wants to check in with her one more time before she goes home. Can you make sure they meet up?
Danielle Larkin is waiting outside my locker room. And I will definitely make sure she’s taken care of. I rush through my shower and getting back into my suit, eager to see Dani again after that kiss.
“You’re already leaving?” Alexei, the Racketeers defenseman asks. He claps me on the shoulder, hard. “Great game tonight. We should celebrate.”
Usually I’m all for joking around, laughing and talking with my new teammates after a game. Especially after a win. Especially after a win where I was the only scorer. I like to stick around for the accolades. I had a damn good game.
Fuck, I’m glad to be home.
“Got somewhere I need to be,” I tell him.
I pull my bag up onto my shoulder and hit the door. There are several wives and girlfriends waiting but I find the cute redhead immediately.
“Hi, Crew!”
“Great game Crew!”
A few of the wives greet me and I smile and wave. I don’t know all their names yet, but my teammates have been great about making me feel included and I really need to figure out who belongs to who. I want to be a part of this team in every way.
But right now, I have a mission.
Dani.
She looks nervous. Or confused.
I head straight for her with a big smile. I haven’t seen Dani in a few years, but I remember that long red hair and those big green eyes. She has an adorable little nose and creamy skin with freckles dusting lightly over her cheeks. And the curves in all the right places. My sister’s best friend has always been cute, and I’ve been in love with her since I was sixteen and I met her moving Luna’s crap into their dorm room.
And now I’ve kissed her. In front of an entire arena full of people. When I’ve just started playing for the Racketeers. Plus, there might have been a slight start of game delay due to my lips landing on Dani’s. Maybe not my smartest move.
Sure it was spontaneous, but I have no regrets about that kiss.
That’s also not going to be the last time it happens.
Though I’d like this time to be slightly more private so I can really explore the way she tastes.
“Hey, Dani,” I greet as I stop in front of her. “How’s your head?”
I’d been skating a few laps for warmup after intermission when I saw Sammy, our mascot, heading in her direction. Then she was up on the Kiss Cam, and suddenly Sammy was pulling her up, apparently to kiss her himself, and then, the next thing I knew, she’d face planted into the seat next to her date. It had all happened so fast, I was on my way to her side before I’d really registered what was going on.
But then, given the chance to rectify the no-kiss on the Kiss Cam situation, I’d stepped up.
I’m not sorry.
She tips her head up and blinks at me. I reach out and smooth her fiery red hair back off of her forehead. Her hair is silky. I suddenly want to wrap it around my fingers and tug her to me, but I don’t. I study her skin first. She has a tiny bump marring her perfect flesh, and I brush my fingertip over it gently. “You have a goose egg.”
“Oh, um…” She wets her lips. “I’m fine. Really.”
Then her gaze tracks over me. Slowly. Twice.
I’m in a suit now. It’s dark gray and I’m wearing a light gray button down shirt underneath. We always dress up before and after the games and she clearly likes what she sees. I get a lot of attention from women. I don’t think that’s ego talking, that’s just fact. But I especially like having Dani’s attention.
“What do you think?” I ask, dropping my hand from her and down over the front of my jacket.
“You… um…” She finally drags her gaze back to mine. “Look nice.”
I grin. “You too.”
Her eyes widen a little. ‘I do?”
“Definitely.” I now let my gaze track over her from head to toe. She practically invited me to. I like what I see. She’s all soft curves and a narrow waist. “Very nice.”
When I look at her face again, she’s blushing. Her pale skin flushes a very pretty pink and I want to see what other parts of her body are that sweet pink color. And what other parts I can make flush like that. I step closer.
“It’s been a while,” I say.
She nods and I watch her swallow hard. “Three years. Since Luna’s and my graduation party.”
I grin. She knows exactly the last time we saw each other? I like that. A lot. “How have you been?”
“Fine.”
That seems to be her favorite word.
She doesn’t look fine. She looks flustered and fuckable. “Did you enjoy the game?”
Her gaze drops to my mouth and I grin. Yeah, that was my favorite part too, honey.
“I…did. You’re really fantastic.”
“I am,” I agree. What? It’s true. They don’t pay me the big bucks for being pretty. Though I am that as well, if I’m being totally honest. Guys would kill for my flow.
“Congratulations on everything. I’m really proud of you, Crew. You’ve achieved a lot for being only twenty-two.”
Ah. She’s pointing out I’m younger than her. But it’s only two years. That doesn’t matter at all. And I intend to show her that I’m not the kid she remembers. “I’m glad you were here tonight.”
“You are?”
“I haven’t been on the Kiss Cam before,” I tell her. Though I’m definitely going home tonight and watching the video of me and Dani on YouTube. There’s no doubt in my mind someone has already uploaded it and I want to see how it looks. How we look.
Again those pretty green eyes widen. “Me either.” Her voice is soft now.
“How do you feel about non-Kiss Cam kisses, Dani?” I ask her, my voice a little husky as I lean in and brace one hand on the wall next to her head.
“I love lots of kinds of kisses,” she says. She’s breathing faster now.
I wonder for a second if she realizes how that sounds. And how fucking hot that just made me.
I let my bag drop to the floor, cup her face, and lean in. “Well, I love giving lots of kinds of kisses,” I tell her, my lips hovering just above hers. “I think we’re going to get along really well.”
Then I settle my mouth on hers.
She sighs softly and my cock hardens.
Damn, I don’t remember the last time a woman affected me like this. This quickly. This easily. She hasn’t done or said anything graphic but I’m hot and hard, and my body is aching to lift her up and press her against this wall suddenly.
At first her hands just rest on my chest but as I ease my tongue over her lower lip, she slides them up to my shoulders, and then when I cup the back of her head, tip her head back, and deepen the kiss, she moves them to the back of my head. She’s tangling her fingers in my hair and, damn, for a second she really grips my hair hard as she goes up on tiptoe, pressing closer into me.
That’s all the permission I need. I walk her back a step so she’s against the wall, ready to give her all the kisses she can handle.
I’ve just leaned in when I hear a voice behind me.
“Ms. Larkin, I believe we have an appointment.”
Well, shit. That’s the doc’s voice. I’m only mildly annoyed by the distraction. It was inevitable, given where we are, and I have no intention of letting this be the last time I kiss her so I lift my head. I look down at Dani.
She’s breathing hard, looking a little dazed, and her lips are nice and pink and shiny now.
I look over my shoulder at Michael Hughes. “Hey, Doc.”
“Crew.” His tone and expression say that he’s not exactly surprised to find me here, but he’s not buying me a celebratory beer either.
“What kind of appointment do you have with my girl?”
Hughes raises an eyebrow. “Your girl?”
I look down at Dani. Okay, that slipped out. But fuck, why not? Dani’s been making me smile, and giving me semi-hard-ons for years. Whereas my sister likes to give me crap, Dani has always been sweet and supportive.
“Dani and I go way back,” I tell Michael.
“Hmm,” he says, not overly impressed. His gaze settles on Dani. “I wanted to check in with you. Shall we go to my office?”
She blinks at him. So do I. His office?
“Can’t you just do it here?” I ask.
“My office would be the easiest place to fully assess her,” Michael says.
I have to admit, he seems unfazed by the fact that I practically had her pinned against the wall and was kissing the hell out of her.
“Assess me?” Dani asks, seeming surprised.
Michael steps forward. “I just want to be sure your head is all right. I won’t be able to rest until I know you’re fine.”
I loop an arm around her waist, suddenly feeling a jab of protectiveness. “Is there a chance she has a concussion?” I hadn’t been close enough to see her fall so I didn’t realize she might have a worse injury than I’d realized. I know about concussion all too well. You don’t play a game like hockey for most of your life without having your brain banged around in your skull a few times.
“There is,” Michael says calmly.
Calmly? She could have a concussion? Well, shit. Why didn’t that occur to me before? If so, why is he saying things calmly? Shouldn’t he maybe even be alarmed? What the fuck are we doing standing around here talking? Fuck I was about to lift her up and dry hump her against a brick wall and she’s actually injured?
I gently push Dani toward Michael. “Fuck, Doc, check her out. Make sure she’s alright.”
Michael nods. “I plan to.” He looks at Dani and his expression softens.
That doesn’t seem like a professional vibe, but what do I know? Maybe that’s how he looks when he’s in concerned doctor mode. I wouldn’t know. When he’s working on hockey players he’s mostly in annoyed doctor mode.
“Right this way, Ms. Larkin,” Michael says.
“You can call me Dani,” she tells him, stepping up beside him.
I want him to put his arm around her. What if she gets dizzy and stumbles?
So I step up on her other side and put my arm around her waist again, hugging her up against my side.
“Excuse me, are you Danielle?”
The three of us all turn to face the security guard.
Dani nods. “I’m Danielle Larkin.”
“Mr. Armstrong sent me to find you. He’d like to see you in his office.”
Mr. Armstrong wants to see her? In his office? What is it with all these guys wanting Dani in their offices tonight?
“Why?” I ask bluntly, my arm tightening around Dani. I expected Nathan would have some words for me about the kiss with Dani, but none of that was her fault.
“He didn’t say,” the guard says. “Just that I was to escort her upstairs.”
“He probably wants to smooth things over. I’m sure a fan getting injured in the arena is a concern,” Michael says.
Sure. Okay, that makes sense. Though I’d expect Nathan to send someone from the public relations office. He isn’t exactly a social, make-people-feel-warm-and-fuzzy guy. I’d think he’d want to send one of the bubbly women who go out to charity events or one of the funny, charming younger guys who handle the social media accounts.
I don’t want to let her out of my sight before I can kiss her again at least once—maybe twelve times—so I guess I’m going with her. Though I’d love to avoid my team’s owner after pulling the kiss cam stunt tonight.
Then again, I did pull off a hat trick with three goals today. He can’t deny that making me a Racketeer was one of his best moves yet.
“Who’s Mr. Armstrong?” Dani asks.
I look down at her. “He’s the owner of the Racketeers.”
“The owner?” Her eyes widen, and she starts to shake her head. “Oh, no. I don’t want to meet him.”
I laugh. “Why not? Maybe he’s going to give you season tickets.”
She frowns. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he saw you try to climb me like a tree in the stands and then the way I played, and he wants you to be here to inspire me?” I say with a grin.
She blushes again, and I feel like I just scored another goal. God, she’s pretty when she blushes.
“He wants to check in and make sure you’re all right after your…accident,” Michael says. “He texted me to get a report. Now I guess he wants to see for himself that you’re fine.”
“He doesn’t trust you?” she asks.
Michael gives her a half-smile. “Mr. Armstrong very much thinks he always knows best.”
Dani sighs. “Can you come along?” she asks Michael. “You can do the assessment up there in front of him and then everyone will realize I’m okay.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to take you upstairs.” Michael glances at the security guard. “Okay with you, Ken?”
The guy nods. “Sure thing, Dr. Hughes.”
“This way,” Michael says to Dani.
I turn her toward the elevators, my arm still around her.
“Where exactly are you going?” Hughes asks me as we all start walking.
“With Dani,” I say simply.
“You weren’t invited.”
“Too bad.” Then I shrug. “Nathan loves me.”
Hughes just scoffs at that.
Okay, Nathan Armstrong doesn’t love me. But he loves what I do for his team and he pays me very well for it.
And these two men are not going to meet with my girl without me.
