Deadlines & Red Lines: Fast Ice Sports Romance

by Stephanie Julian

  Deadlines & Red Lines

  Stephanie Julian

  Finding love one kiss at a time...

  Sugar Donahue is determined to live life on her own terms, even if that means working three dead-end jobs to make ends meet. The only bright spot in her day is the moment the hottest player on the Philadelphia Colonials hockey team walks into the diner where she works. Too bad he’s so far out of her league he might as well be on another planet.

  RJ Mitchell wants Sugar any way he can have her—on a table, up against a wall, whatever he can get. He’s at the top of his game and a fan favorite, but his life feels stuck in neutral. He’s not willing to risk his heart, but he’ll take whatever Sugar’s willing to give.

  But when eyes meet, and breath stops, and heat sizzles every time they touch, neither can resist the attraction. RJ’s been burned by women before and Sugar’s insecurities make her feel like she’s skating on thin ice. Are they willing to face off at the red line and take the shot, to score the love of a lifetime?

  Want to know more? Join Stephanie in her private Reader Salon on Facebook. And sign up to get all her news here.

  Don’t don’t miss these other stories in the Fast Ice series:

  Bylines & Blue Lines

  Hard Lines & Goal Lines

  Deadlines & Red Lines

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Also by Stephanie Julian

  One

  “Hey, RJ. How’s your day going? What can I get you?”

  You. I want you. Naked. On the table. Against the wall. I don’t care where. And you don’t have a clue.

  RJ Mitchell made sure his expression didn’t reveal the thoughts running through his head as he handed her the menu he didn’t need because he knew it forward and backward.

  It was Tuesday and The Brig’s special of the day was owner Georgie’s amazing pot roast. After the workout this morning and the ice time he’d logged this afternoon, pot roast was his reward.

  And spending time with Sugar. Can’t forget that.

  Nope, wouldn’t forget that anytime soon. Not when she was always here, serving him at his favorite restaurant in the entire city of Philadelphia.

  Pitiful but true.

  “Hey, Sugar. It’s going. You get signed up for that class you were talking about?”

  Her lips twisted and her nose wrinkled in a way that shouldn’t have made him think about kissing his way down her naked body. Then again, he’d been lusting after this woman for months, so it wasn’t a surprise.

  But since his personal life was in limbo or suspended animation or whatever the hell kind of life he was living right now, he hadn’t talked himself into seducing her. Yet.

  He wanted to. But the situation being what it was…

  “Not yet. I know, I know.” She held up a hand to stop him from responding, her smile widening. “I’m going to. I just…haven’t had the time.”

  “You need to make the time.”

  Her smile softened as she nodded. “I will. I just…need to find a couple of minutes. Thanks for asking, though. It reminds me that I need to do it. So what do you want tonight?”

  Same answer as before.

  He wanted her.

  Then ask her out.

  He hadn’t figured out why he hadn’t. Or maybe he knew and just didn’t want to admit it.

  “I’ll take the pot roast.”

  Her smile widened again. “I knew that. But you never know. One of these days you could surprise me. I’ll put the order in and bring back some water. You want anything else right away?”

  Yeah. I just don’t know if I should ask for it.

  “Nah. I’ll start with that. Thanks, Shug.”

  “No problem”

  Then she turned and walked away, back to the kitchen. Leaving RJ to watch her walk away. And yeah, he checked out her perfect ass before she disappeared behind the swinging doors into the kitchen.

  Yep, he was an asshole.

  Jaw flexing, he forced himself to shift his gaze to the front window, where people still crowded the sidewalk on a Tuesday in mid-August. Outside, the temperature still hovered just below ninety degrees at seven-thirty at night, but inside the diner, the air conditioner had to be cranked to subarctic. But it barely made a dent in his internal temperature, which rose every time he was near Sugar.

  God damn. If he didn’t act on this attraction soon, he was going to lose his mind.

  You’ve already lost that if you think you should be pursuing this woman. She doesn’t need to deal with your shit.

  Swallowing down a sigh, he flipped over his phone, which had been face down on the table. Most days, he avoided opening social media sites. He had accounts on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, but he didn’t post a lot. Never had, even before the shit hit the fan last year. Before he’d transferred to the Colonials from LA.

  A toxic mix of emotions churned in his gut, pushing past the mental block he’d built for the past fourteen months. Since the night a couple of asshole former teammates took advantage of a couple of drunk women at a party. And fucked the reputation of nearly the entire team. Including RJ’s.

  The legal battle had been put to rest in California, and RJ had been exonerated. But the court of public opinion had already laid down its verdict: complicit. Not guilty but responsible in some way. Hell, he even thought so himself. Even though he’d tried to—

  His hands clenched into fists on top of the table, his knuckles cracking audibly. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and forced himself to loosen his jaw and shove all that shit back down into the pit where he kept it locked up tight.

  Giving the room a quick once-over, he decided no one had noticed his momentary freak-out and allowed himself to relax. Just a little. Something he didn’t do much of lately. The closest he got to relaxing was having dinner here or hanging with his family.

  He didn’t have a girlfriend. The bullshit in L.A. had taken care of that. Marisol had barely hung on two days when the accusations went public. Then she’d bailed. At the time, he hadn’t blamed her. Mostly, he blamed himself for dragging her into it with him. Even though he’d done nothing wrong…

  He heard the door to the kitchen swing open and his attention automatically shifted.

  Not Sugar.

  Damn. He definitely needed a hobby other than working out and stalking Sugar.

  With a disgusted sigh, he tapped his phone and saw notifications for two texts. Since very few people had his number, it was either family or close friends. Turned out to be both.

  You coming to dinner this weekend? Your sister wants to know.

  RJ huffed out a quiet laugh. His best friend and future brother-in-law, Tim Stanton, knew him well enough to know if Tim invited him to dinner, RJ would be forgiven for blowing him off. But if he blew off his sister, well, that was just a dick move.

  The other text was from his mom and, yeah, he’d be a total dick for blowing off his mom.

  Your dad’s birthday is next month. We need to talk party plans!

  Shit. Couldn’t say no to that either, could he?

  Hell, he’d had no plans all summer. Usually, he’d spend most of July beach-hopping with friends and teammates, old and new. Tahiti, Hawaii, Jamaica. Tropical heat, white beaches, drinks with enough alcohol to dull the pain of losing out on making the playoffs, losing the playoffs, or losing the cup. And if you were lucky enough t
o have won the cup? Well, the alcohol was icing on the cake. Not that he would know. He didn’t have a ring. At least, not yet.

  “Excuse me, mister. Are you RJ Mitchell?”

  The boy stood at least six feet away from his table, probably eight or ten years old. Definitely not old enough to be here by himself.

  A year ago, RJ wouldn’t have had to force a smile. It would’ve come naturally. Now, it took a little effort. Even for the kids. And that sucked. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the fans. After his love of the game, they were the reason he played. Not for fame or money, although he admitted the money was great. The fame, not so much. Especially when you became famous for something you didn’t do.

  Nodding, he leaned forward a little, not too close, though. “I am. How are you tonight?”

  The smile that exploded on the kid’s face made RJ’s day. Literally, every shitty thought in his head exploded into dust and blew away.

  “I’m good. Can I have your autograph?” The kid ran toward his table, piece of paper in his hand. “I have a collection of all my favorite players, but I don’t have yours ’cause we couldn’t come to the game where the team was signing stuff. My dad had to work, and my mom said we couldn’t spend the money on the tickets ’cause then we couldn’t pay the electric and—”

  “Sorry. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Danny, I told you to stay in the booth.”

  A visibly upset young woman with a baby on her hip appeared at Danny’s side. Her dark, curly hair and light hazel eyes an exact match to the children, she gripped Danny’s shoulder and tugged him back.

  “Please, don’t apologize.” RJ turned his smile on the mom. “Danny told me I’m one of his favorite players. Pretty much made my day.”

  The woman shook her head, grimacing. “I had to change the baby’s diaper and I took the kids into the restroom, but Danny disappeared on me and—God, I’m rambling. I’m really sorry. I told him not to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother. Honestly.” Turning his attention back to Danny, he held out his hand for the paper. “You got a pen, big guy?”

  The kid’s expression fell when he realized he didn’t. “No, I—”

  “Here you go.”

  A hand appeared over RJ’s shoulder, holding a pen.

  Sugar to the rescue.

  Danny’s smile returned in full force as RJ took the pen and scrawled a short note and his signature on the back of a ragged piece of notebook paper, while the baby squirmed and babbled

  and Danny’s mom bounced the little girl on her hip.

  “Do you play hockey?” RJ asked as he handed back the paper.

  Danny glanced up at his mom before shrugging and looking down at his feet. “Nah. Not yet.”

  And if the mom’s expression was anything to go by, not in the near future, either. Hockey was an expensive sport. Skates, sticks, gear, club fees. In a big city like Philly, that could cost several hundred dollars if not thousands. Money some just didn’t have.

  “Well, you need to talk to your mom about this,” he glanced up to make sure she knew he was talking to her and not just Danny, “but I’ll be helping out with a clinic next week at University of Pennsylvania. It’s free, if you want to try it out.”

  From the size of Danny’s eyes, he really wanted to try it out, and the look he turned on his mom was hopeful.

  So RJ directed his next words to her. “A few members of the Colonials are involved, and we provide the kids with everything they need. Equipment included.” He didn’t tell her they didn’t do that for all the kids. He also didn’t tell her registration had ended weeks ago. Didn’t matter. If Danny’s mom said he could go to camp, RJ would make it happen. “If transportation’s an issue, we can work something out. Breakfast and lunch included. It’s a two-week program for beginners and intermediates.”

  By the time he finished, Danny’s mom actually had a smile and Danny’s grin had widened even more.

  “If you’re interested,” RJ pulled his wallet out of his pants and gave Danny’s mom a card, the one with his personal email address, “email me by Monday. We’ll make it work.”

  “Thank you. That would be…Danny would love this. Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Mitchell. Come on, Mom, let’s go tell Daddy.”

  Danny tugged his mom away from RJ’s table, all smiles.

  “That was very sweet of you.”

  RJ looked up to find Sugar standing by his booth, smiling at him. Shaking his head, he picked up her pen and began tapping it against the tabletop.

  “Not really.”

  It’d been self-serving if anything. When you fostered a kid’s love of hockey, you grew hockey fans. Major league hockey was nothing without its fans. And sponsoring one more kid was a drop in the bucket for him. Hell, the five kids he’d already sponsored cost less than what he typically spent on suits for the season.

  “Yes, it was.” She sighed. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Put yourself down.” One hand went to her hip, which, of course, made him want to look. Which he didn’t. “You’re such a nice guy.”

  He shook his head and snorted. “Guess you haven’t seen the news in the past year.”

  She made a little disgusted huff. “Those people don’t know you.”

  “True. But neither do you.”

  The rhythm of the pen stopped when she put her hand over his. He froze as her fingers curved around his hand, the heat of her skin seeping into his.

  He couldn’t remember her ever purposely touching him before. Sure, their fingers had brushed when she’d put down plates or taken his glass to be refilled. But she’d never put her hand on his like she was doing now.

  Hell, he felt like he was in some period film he’d never watch about Victorians or some religious sect where sex was a mortal sin. He didn’t believe in that shit. Sex could be amazing between consenting adults who had the hots for each other.

  Of course, the only person he’d had the hots for lately had been this woman.

  See? Victorian freaking tragedy.

  “I know you well enough. And I think you’re sweet.”

  Looking up, he let himself study her face. When he’d first met her, he’d thought she couldn’t be older than eighteen. One of the first times he’d met her, he’d asked what high school she attended. Her nose had wrinkled, and she’d said, “A tiny one. My graduating class had fifty people. So what’re you having tonight?”

  He’d gotten the hint. Nothing personal. Had things changed?

  “Thanks. I guess.”

  Her grin turned wry. “It’s a compliment. Take it.”

  He did. But only because it came from her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  He smiled back and, for a few brief seconds, they shared a moment. All other sound fell away then: the diner noise, the constant rumble of traffic from the city, the voices from the other guests. They all just faded into the background where they barely registered.

  A connection formed, like a string tied around their waists that kept pulling them closer together. It only lasted a few seconds, and maybe he was an idiot to think she noticed anything other than the awkward way he kept staring at her. Like a damn stalker.

  Then someone brushed by Sugar, snapping her out of the moment. She blinked, shook her head, and took a step back, like she thought she was too close.

  He didn’t think she’d ever be close enough. But for her sake, it wasn’t going to happen.

  “Um, I’m just gonna go check on your dinner.”

  She turned and hustled for the kitchen like she needed to put out a fire.

  Or just get the hell away from you.

  Shit.

  Sighing, he shook his head as he watched her disappear behind the swinging door.

  “You sure you’re okay? You look exhausted. With the amount of hours you work, I can’t imagine you get enough sleep. You really need to take better care.”

  Su
gar swallowed an exhausted sigh and forced a smile for her coworker. She knew Anika meant well, but the other girl didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. And Sugar needed boundaries.

  “Long day. Looking forward to crawling into bed tonight.”

  “I hear you. Big Dude is supposed to have the babies in bed tonight by nine so we can have a quiet night for a change. You know that ain’t gonna happen. That man has no spine when it comes to his kids. You just know they’re gonna be awake and hopped up on sugar. I don’t care if it’s summer, they still need to have a set bedtime.”

  Sugar’s smile was natural this time. Anika and her husband, whose given name was John but which no one who knew him ever used because Big Dude fit him too well, had three kids all under the age of seven. They were the sweetest, most adorable kids Sugar had ever met in her life. Their smiles charmed birds out of the trees and candy out of miserable SOBs.

  Anika and Big Dude were the kind of parents Sugar aspired to be. Someday. Not anytime soon. She’d raised her sisters until she’d been able to leave home for Philly. She was in no hurry to have kids of her own.

  “I agree with you, but Big Dude’s not the only one those kids have tied around their fingers.”

  Anika gave her the side eye as she gathered the plates of her next order. “Are you trying to tell me my babies are spoiled rotten?”

  Since Sugar had worked with Anika for the past year, she’d didn’t rise to her coworker’s bait.

  “They’re angels and you know it.”

  Anika grinned her Cheshire cat smile, dark eyes sparkling. “Of course, they are. You need a few of your own.”

  Sugar mock-shuddered. “No, I really don’t. I don’t even wanna think about kids right now.”

  She’d had her fill of changing diapers and wiping runny noses for at least the next ten years. If not more.

  “Damn right, you don’t need to be thinking about kids,” Georgie chimed in from her territory in front of the flat-top. “Let the girl live a little.”