Icing: A Seattle Sockeyes Puck Brothers Novel (The Scoring Series Book 4)

by Jami Davenport

  Meanwhile, Cin dived into her causes with the same enthusiasm with which I played hockey. She had her hands in everything from feeding the homeless to saving the orca whales. She made me feel like a slacker for not doing more charity work for the team. Each player was expected to sign up for a certain amount of activities, and I’d been one to do the minimum. In my defense, I was busy. Yeah, I was really busy.

  I’d never been much for causes. I was more of the live-and-let-live type. Let someone else handle the tough stuff, I had hockey to deal with. There’d be plenty of time post-hockey to get involved in the community. At least, that’s how I tamped down my guilt.

  Training camp had started today, and I showed up early. We tested all morning. I didn’t necessarily like the testing part. Sixty grueling minutes of jumping, sprinting, push-ups, pull-ups, squats, and any other torture Coach and his staff dreamed up to assess each player’s fitness. I’d been working out religiously all summer, following my usual rigid routine. Yet no matter how hard a guy worked out, nothing prepared him for the competition and mental toughness required of an actual game. We were professional athletes. We competed at everything from how far we could spit to how fast we could sprint around the ice.

  The off-ice testing was nothing compared to the on-ice testing. My legs were screaming along with my lungs by the time we finished. I did pay special attention to Ziggy and Cave. They were winded faster than the majority of the rookies. Not good. Especially considering their positions on the team. Cooper Black, former Sockeyes star player now assistant coach, was especially brutal toward the two rookies. Coop hated slackers, and he made them do extra ice sprints. He climbed all over their asses, and my buddies and I secretly snickered behind our gloves. Been there, done that, and barely survived.

  When it came down to the one-on-one drills, I was on fire. A couple times I caught the coaches watching me and nodding. I wasn’t getting the grimaces Ziggy and Cave were getting. I was getting smiles of approval. I was gaining a measure of cocky confidence, though I’d always been sure of myself and my abilities.

  Bryce Wilcox, a twenty-year-old rookie, was crawling up my ass. His nickname was Cox, and I had a better nickname for him but didn’t voice it out loud. He was an obnoxious, conceited dickhead. I was this far from throwing down the gloves and teaching the smug bastard a thing or two. Even though I wasn’t a fighter, sometimes a well-placed punch or two was necessary, especially with these young punks. I was one last year, but I wasn’t that much of a know-it-all. Wilcox kept calling Cedrick “Smooth” Pedersen and Jason “Wildman” Wilder old men. They’d showed zero reaction to his taunts so far, but I was pretty sure they’d be getting even.

  Wilcox was a first-round draft pick, but the way he was acting you’d have thought he was the second coming of Wayne Gretsky. He was sure to make the team this year, and he needed to be taken down a notch or two before that happened. I knew him from last year when he’d been at training camp and been sent back to the AHL for another year of seasoning. He was better this year, as much as I hated to admit it. He’d been lighting up the minors, so I doubted the Sockeyes would wait another year for him to mature. They needed him now with a few crucial openings on the team due to free agency and retirement.

  Kaden skated up to me as we waited for our turn at the two-on-two drills. “I want that guy’s dick on a silver platter.”

  I didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. I knew. “Let’s take the rookie to school.”

  Kaden winked at me and skated off to talk to Coop, then returned. It was all arranged.

  A few minutes later, we lined up for our two-on-two drills. Kaden and I against Wilcox and another rookie whose name escaped me, probably because he was a nice guy who kept his mouth shut and did his job without bragging.

  I gave Kaden the side-eye as Wilcox took the puck. With a cocky grin, he skated toward us. We were ready from him. As soon as he picked up speed, I was in front of him, fighting for the puck. I stole it easily and passed to Kaden, who raced down the ice and shot it into the net. He slid to a stop, and we raised our arms to celebrate. Wilcox was fuming.

  “Welcome to the NHL, rookie,” Kaden shouted. Several guys added to the cheering, and Wilcox’s cheeks flamed a bright red.

  We waited our turn for another shot at the rookies. Wilcox skated up to us, his eyes narrowed and anger visible in every line of his face. “That was pure luck.”

  “No, dickwad, it was skill.”

  “I’ll show you,” he threatened, drawing laughter from us and anyone close enough to hear.

  He didn’t show us. We beat him several times until Wilcox’s partner got the best of us and stole the puck right from under our noses and scored. His grin was wide as he did a little dance on the ice. Kaden was pissed now, and I was too. Next chance I got, I slammed Wilcox into the boards so hard he’d have bruises in places he’d never had bruises before.

  Before the ass could retaliate, Coach blew his whistle and called the team to center ice. Wilcox fumed, muttering obscenities under his breath. Kaden and I fist-bumped. Coop lifted one brow as we zipped past. He wasn’t going to say it, but he was glad we put the kid in his place.

  After practice, Smooth announced we’d all be going out for drinks and Wilcox was buying. I knew those two would get even with him.

  I showered, toweled off, and dressed. “Where are we going?” I asked Axel.

  “Some little bar just a few blocks away. Blue Dog, I think.”

  “Blue Dog? That’s where Cin works.”

  “Ziggy suggested it. The Place was closed because of a water leak.” Axel’s smug grin was all knowing. “You’d better watch out or one of these assholes is going to make a move before you ever get around to it.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Axel strode off, but his laughter trailed behind him.

  “It’s pretty obvious,” Kaden said from beside me. “You got it bad.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “Yeah, right. Come on, let’s spend that rookie’s money. I hope he has a high limit on his credit card since he’s not making league wages yet.”

  I followed Kaden out the door, and we walked the few blocks to the Blue Dog, pausing a few times to sign autographs and chat up fans.

  Most of the guys were already there when we arrived. The tables had been pushed together to make one big table in the center of the room. Not everyone had shown up, but close to twenty guys sat around the large table, chatting and drinking beer. Cin hustled her cute ass, taking orders and not the least bit stressed at the number of patrons invading her usually quiet bar. She was probably counting her tips so she could donate the proceeds to Animals without Borders or something.

  Wasn’t I the cynical one?

  I pushed a chair between Kaden and Axel, forcing them to move over and make room. I ignored their annoyed glares. Easton wasn’t joining us. He’d gone home to tend to his family. I ordered a beer, but Kaden elbowed me. “The rookie’s paying.”

  “Oh, yeah, crap. Your best scotch.”

  Cin nodded. “So this is all on one bill?”

  “Yeah, the jerk at the end of the table in the red T-shirt.” Kaden grinned with evil glee. We’d done our share of paying for drinks and dinner last year; now it was that ass’s turn.

  “Oh, yeah, him. That one who pinched my ass and asked for my phone number, as if that’d earn him any points with me.”

  “He did?” I saw red and was half out of my seat when Kaden put a firm hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. Cin didn’t witness my display of manhood, as she’d already bustled off to take care of Smooth, Ice, and Brick.

  “Don’t blow your cover, dumb ass. You want every guy on this team to know she’s your weakness? You’ll never live it down.”

  “Cin is not my weakness.” My strong denial contradicted my words. By the smirk on Kaden’s face, I wasn’t fooling him. I’m not sure I was fooling anyone but myself, which made me the biggest fool of all. This woman made me
crazed with lust and frustration. I thought about her too many times during the day. And at night? Shit, she invaded my dreams over and over again. But I did enjoy some of those dreams, though my body preferred the real thing.

  “Tell that to someone else. You don’t fool me. I recognize that look. I see it in the mirror all the time.”

  I weighed arguing just for the sake of arguing or keeping my mouth shut. With a resigned sigh, I slumped in my chair. Kaden was right. If I made a scene over Wilcox pinching Cin’s ass, I’d blow my cover. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t make sure that kid didn’t touch Cin again. I’d go into stealth mode.

  I waited for Wilcox to get up and head to the bathroom, then I followed him. I stood in the hallway outside the men’s room like a cougar stalking his prey. A few seconds later, the guy sauntered out the door. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure none of my teammates were around. The bathroom was down a hall and around the corner. They couldn’t see us from the table and no one else was in the hall.

  “About the bartender…” I started, and the bastard interrupted me.

  “She’s fucking hot. I’d love to see those tattoos. All of them. I think I stand a shot of taking her home tonight.”

  “Like fuck you do.” A temper I never knew I had snapped inside me. Like a snake striking, I shoved the jerk against the wall in a second flat and held him there. My eyes bored into his. The shock on his face was as transparent as a face shield. I expected him to fight back, but he didn’t. He shrank away from me.

  “Keep your hands off her,” I growled.

  He swallowed, visibly shaken. Confusion and more than a little fear replaced his usual bravado and bluster. I didn’t flatter myself for a second to think he was afraid of me physically, more like the damage I might do to his chances to make the team. He’d pushed his limits earlier at practice, and he must’ve realized it.

  “I didn’t know she was… you two were…” He stuttered and stammered, unable to get the words out.

  “She isn’t, and we aren’t. She happens to be a good friend and my roommate, and I don’t appreciate anyone disrespecting her.”

  “I’m sorry.” He held out his hands to the side. I gave him another small shove into the wall to punctuate how serious I was, then I released my death grip on his shoulders. Having proven my point, I pivoted on my heel and stalked off.

  As I walked around the corner, Cin stood there staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and anger on her face.

  “What did I tell you about being my protector?” she snarled at me.

  I didn’t respond. I’d been caught red-handed playing the role of her knight in tarnished armor.

  “I’ll take care of myself. Mind your own business. He wasn’t bothering me. He’s no worse than half the guys who come in here.”

  “I…uh, I…”

  She stood there like a warrior challenging a general, hands on hips, her head thrown back, and her shoulders squared. Hunks of her beautiful, glorious hair fell across the swells of her breasts and nestled in her cleavage. I’d give anything to nestle my head in that cleavage.

  “Do not do that again.”

  I snapped my gaze back to her face. “I understand.” I nodded, but I didn’t promise her anything. Whether she caught my choice of words or not, I couldn’t tell.

  “Good,” she barked and marched away from me. I returned to my seat. Kaden and Axel watched me, and they knew I had my tail tucked between my legs.

  “He’ll learn,” Axel said to Kaden.

  “You think? I’m not sure. He’s a stubborn cuss, and he thinks he always right.”

  “Hey, dickwads, I’m right here. I can hear you.”

  They both turned their heads to give me one of those fake innocent grimaces.

  “Oh, sorry,” Kaden said, not looking in any way, shape, or form to be sorry.

  I tossed back the last of my drink but didn’t order another. I was satisfied with water for the rest of the night.

  Cin walked out of the kitchen balancing two trays stacked with totally unhealthy appetizers and distributed them on the table. She leaned past me to place a tray of wings and her breast rubbed against my arm. I sucked in a breath as my body fell to its knees and begged for mercy. She’d brushed my arm accidently, nothing to get all hot and bothered about, but my dick wasn’t listening. It had a mind of its own, and it knew what it wanted. In fact, all of me wanted the same thing except for my pesky sense of self-preservation. That radical protestor was screaming for me to run while I could and protect my heart.

  No one else was listening, especially not my dick. It’d never been good at self-preservation. More like self-indulgence, and I’d been a master at controlling those impulses lately—until now.

  Until Hyacinth Meadows stormed into my life with her fat, slobbering dog, generous cleavage, and smart mouth.

  Chapter Eight

  Badass?

  ~~Hyacinth~~

  Three days later, I’d decided to close the bar early on a dead Sunday night. I finished my closing duties, turned off all but the nighttime security lights, and locked the main door behind me. The sidewalk was deserted, as was the side street the bar was located on. A streetlight was burnt out on this section of the block, and I increased my stride. I was a bold person, but sometimes walking on a dark street did unnerve me.

  I’d be home alone tonight. Ziggy and Steele had flown to Vegas with the team to take on the Sidewinders in a preseason game. I’d watched the game at the bar and been drawn to it every time Steele took the ice. Even at breakneck speed, there was something masculinely graceful and poetic in the way he raced up and down the ice, chasing that puck. The power, the intensity, the focus. I was getting wet just watching him.

  I wanted Steele Bailey so badly.

  I was a self-indulgent person and prone to following those indulgences to the bitter end no matter what the eventual cost or toll it took on me. I prided myself on being a free spirit, and free spirits led with their instincts and emotions. At least this one did.

  And those instincts and emotions wanted Steele. I’d always pursued what I wanted and faced any consequences later. After all, the journey was more rewarding than the destination.

  I’d never denied myself a hot body in my bed, yet here I was, torn between making that man lose his self-control and refusing to succumb to my baser needs this time.

  But why? Why wasn’t I indulging in the hard body that slept in the room next to me? I sighed as I skirted a mud puddle on the sidewalk. I wanted nothing more than to strip off my clothes and sneak into his bed as soon as he got home. I doubted he’d be able to resist that bold of a move on my part.

  So what was stopping me?

  It’d been three days since the guys had invaded my bar. I’d made enough money in tips that night to pay for next month’s rent. They would be welcome in my bar anytime. Even the obnoxious rookie that Steele threatened. What the fuck had been up with that? For the second time in a few days, Steele had behaved like a jealous boyfriend.

  I’d had a few of those, and I recognized the symptoms. Perhaps that was what held me back from sleeping with Steele. I don’t like being controlled, and he was the controlling type. I’d promised myself to avoid drama at all costs. Talk about inviting drama back into my life—fucking Steele would do that.

  A dark figure across the street caught my eye. The guy slipped out of an alcove and began to walk at the same pace I was, mirroring my speed and direction. I glanced nervously his way several times in an attempt to judge how far I was from the front door of the condo building and how long it would take him to cross the street and grab me.

  I was a brave woman, but I was smart, too, and somewhat street savvy. It was late, and the area was deserted. Not a good situation for any woman by herself. The guy lengthened his stride and crossed the street. Now he was behind me. I heard his footsteps on the concrete sidewalk.

  Footsteps. I heard footsteps gaining ground behind me.

  I clutched the mace I carried whenever I walked
alone at night, ready to use it. The guy was so close, and the door was so far. I glanced over my shoulder. He was a few feet to my left. I gripped the mace and was poised to take action. My heart was racing faster than my brain was assessing my situation. I’d been in some dicey situations before, and I didn’t relish repeating them.

  The guy caught up with me and hurried past. I slowed my pace, expecting him to turn around and grab me. He didn’t. He kept walking with his head down. He hadn’t paid any attention to me.

  Relieved, I yanked open the door to the building. The night doorman, a tough retired cop, glanced up from his desk and alarm crossed his face.

  “Cin, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I muttered as I skirted past his desk and into the elevator. I didn’t look back worried he’d read the fear written on my face. Unnecessary panic because the guy hadn’t been after me. He’d probably been hurrying home after a late-night job just like mine.

  I opened the condo door and quickly slammed it shut, flipping the deadbolt and setting the alarm.

  Only then did I lean against the wall and suck in deep, calming breaths until my heart rate returned to normal and my hands stopped shaking.

  And they had been shaking. I hated being such a coward. Hated it. I thanked my spirit animal that Ziggy and Steele weren’t home tonight. The last thing I’d want was for them to witness my vulnerability. I was a tough girl.

  Watching a serial killer marathon by myself last night hadn’t been a good idea, as woman after woman was snatched off a deserted street late at night, never to be heard from again. My imagination had gotten the best of me.

  Right now I was envying my friends who had men to come home to or who would’ve met them and walked them home. Even when I’d had a boyfriend, such as Tug, they’d never bothered to make sure I got home safely. They’d been too busy partying.

  Herc jumped up on me, barking and wagging his stub of a tail. I hadn’t noticed him until now, I’d been so stupid scared.