by Brown, Tara
“Fuck!”
“Got it!” Bev screams. Our team cheers from the sidelines and I pull off my mask, wiping my sweaty face and grinning as Lawrence lifts off his and rubs the slimy paint from his ears.
“So much for no face shots, huh, Red?” He lifts an eyebrow, and I can tell he’s pissed. He’s a sore loser.
“Two tough losses in one week is prone to make you bitchy. I get it.” I wink and stand up, walking away, strutting a little.
Bev is dancing on the tower with painted-up dudes all around her. “We win!”
I’m beaming at her and clapping when Matt comes up to me. “You used me as bait.” He sounds offended.
“Thanks, your sacrifice was necessary for the win. Your grandma would be proud.” I slap him on the arm.
He snorts.
“How the hell did you learn to play like that?” Brady asks as he storms over.
“I told you this was a bad idea.” Matt lifts his gun and shoots, hitting Brady in the groin. He drops to his knees, cupping and groaning. He’s wheezing as Matt calmly turns and waits out front of the bunker for Lawrence. But he doesn’t come out.
“Come on, Lori,” Matt says. “You and Brady forced me to play. You’ve likely caused the next big fight in my relationship. Come and take it like a man. BJ did.”
After a second, Lawrence walks out, wincing as if he knows how badly this will hurt. His eyes flicker to Brady who is cupping his groin and moaning.
Matt shoots once but the gun clicks.
Empty.
Lawrence smiles and sighs, but I hand my gun to Matt while maintaining eye contact with Lawrence.
We don’t speak as Matt takes it, bringing fear to Lawrence’s face as Matt fires and drops his other friend.
Bev rushes over, hugging me and waving the flag in Brady’s face while he struggles to stand. He’s having a problem breathing but he manages to wheeze, “Fuck you, Brimstone.”
“I’m going to shower and we will pretend this never happened. And none of us will speak of it in front of Sami.” Matt drops my gun on the ground and walks away.
“We sure as fuck aren’t.” Bev hugs Eddie and Branson as they arrive, both with blue paint splatters on them.
“That was some fucking shooting, girls,” Cap says, wiping paint from his face. “I’ve never seen gameplay like that.”
“My secret weapon.” Bev wraps an arm around my shoulders and grins.
Lawrence stands, holding himself.
“Want me to drive you home in your cart, Eckelston?” I offer meekly. “I got a ride here with Bev so my cart’s at home anyway.”
He glares but when he tries to take a step, he pauses and nods.
“Come on.” I walk to him and sling his arm over my shoulder so he’s fully leaning on me. “Bet you’re rethinking playing against Matt’s family again, huh?” I ask as we limp to the golf cart.
He doesn’t say anything for a minute after he sits and sighs with shaky breath. “No, I was rethinking ever peeking in your windows. You’re an assassin.”
“Don’t forget it.” I gently pat his knee and drive off, smiling again when he whistles through his teeth on the bumps.
12
Team Canada
Lori
“Let’s go, Lawrence,” Brady shouts into my cottage as if it’s a mansion and not the single room and bathroom that doesn’t require anything beyond a whisper. “The fire’s going, bro. Sami and Nat sent me to get you. They want some casual photos of the whole crowd casually drinking before the sun goes down.”
“Coming.” I walk from the bathroom, pausing to carefully adjust my tender balls in my Thursday evening chinos.
“Yeah, my dick’s still sore too,” he commiserates and adjusts himself in the spiffy pair of bespoke navy slacks. “And these pants can’t get tighter. Fucking Sami and her assigned clothes.” He grins and I know what’s coming next. “Bet you’re glad about that small dick.”
“Anyway. Is Sami better after her spa day?” I lift my middle finger and hold it out as I walk to the pantry.
“Yeah, she’s better. You can still see her eyes darting around at the workers getting shit done. She wants to say something but she doesn’t. And Nat’s babysitting her now, making sure she stays calm and kinda drunk until Sunday.”
“Good. Here.” I grab bottles of water and toss him one. “Hydrate.”
He catches it and cracks the lid, taking a huge gulp, draining the bottle, and tossing it into the blue bin next to the small desk. “Nothing but net!” He does a mock cheer as it lands.
“All right, let’s go, LeBron.” I laugh at him.
“Oh, you’re finally ready? You don’t need to spiff that hair up for a few more minutes so you can impress the ginger assassin?” He toys with my hair. “I saw you after paintball. Slinging your arm over her shoulders all pathetically. I admire playing the wounded lamb.”
“I was wounded!” I hit his hand back. “And her name is Jenny.”
“Who?” Carson asks as he comes into my cottage.
“The savage redhead Lori’s dying to fuck.”
“Oh, please fuck her. And film it. I have all kinds of ideas how it’ll be. That was hot to watch her playing paintball.” Carson shakes his head slowly. “Her and Bev.”
“Yeah, I legit almost died watching them take us down.” Brady lifts a dark eyebrow at Carson. “But this thing is scared of her.” He points his thumb at me. “He’s intimidated, knowing she would be the man in the relationship. I mean, how do you even impress a girl like that? Her cock is bigger than yours and if this were caveman days, we both know you’d be the gatherer.” He slaps my ass.
“Ouch.” Carson winces and takes my water, cracking the lid and drinking it back.
“Fuck you both.” I turn back for the fridge and grab two more waters, certain Rich will want one. We walk outside and I close the door, pausing on the porch when I hear someone laughing on Jenny’s side of the cabin. It’s a girl but it can’t be Jenny. The laugh is loud and real. It’s the kind of laugh that brings a smile to anyone who’s nearby. Infectious and fun.
But when we round the corner, I’m stunned to see it’s her. Jenny’s eyes meet mine as a warm wind blows by at exactly the right time. She’s sitting on the railing of her porch with a wide beam spread across her bright-red glossy lips. The wind catches her hair and lifts it, toying with the heavy locks that are styled in soft waves. I stop walking and stare.
She’s gorgeous and so altered from two hours ago when she was destroying us like a toon in a video game with that goth getup. Now she’s lighter and sexy. Her eyes squint a bit when she laughs again, and before I realize it, I’m grinning like an idiot at her.
I try not to stagger or drop the water as we walk closer. If my dick wasn’t broken, it’d be saluting her.
“Oh hey, guys. You going over to the fire now too?” Jenny asks as she stands and I suck my inhale a little loud, mesmerized by the amount of pale creamy skin showing. Her legs go on for days, revealed by the short, flowy black skirt she’s wearing with huge black heels making her taller than Rich by inches. Her hair is around her shoulders and arms which are also bare. She has on a sleeveless cream-colored blouse that’s ruffled around her chest, adding emphasis to a spot she doesn’t need added to.
“Fuck me,” Brady mutters then speaks louder, “Yeah, you wanna ride over with us?”
“Sure.” She stares at us and the cart. “Is there enough room?”
“Rich can sit in my lap.” Brady nudges Carson who glares.
Jenny ignores him as her eyes dart across the path to the brunette’s cabin.
If I had to guess, the brunette hasn’t come out since Cap returned from paintball this afternoon and now Jenny is solo with us. An uncomfortable position being around strangers who all know each other too well. Though looking at her now, I assume the tension is melting away. Shooting everyone in the face must have helped.
“Why don’t you sit up front with Lawrence? He can drive since it’s his cart. The th
ree of us can figure it out in the back,” Rich says, as always the gentleman amongst us and likely wanting to suggest something before Brady offered her the comfy position of sitting on our laps in the back.
“Okay.” She smiles wide and my poor wounded dick does twitch. Her outfit and the red hair is making me think of cherries and cream, and oddly I’m overcome with the need to eat her up, suggesting she might be the cure to my post playoff slump.
I’m imagining how she smells and feels when Brady offers me an elbow in the ribs and whispers, “If you don’t fuck her, I will.”
“Liar.” I scoff, knowing he’s full of shit, but also that Jenny would never sleep with someone like him. She isn’t one of his typical puck bunnies and definitely not a Clinton kind of girl. She’s got a girl-next-door vibe to her like Nat has, but more confident and mean. Like a combination of Sami and Nat and Lara Croft.
She climbs into the four-seater cart with Rich’s help. “Milady.”
“Thank you.” She settles her skirt and sits.
I’m tense when I climb in, awkward around her now that I do kinda want to see that pale skin flush with sweat and color.
Holy fuck.
I need to get it together and stop being weird. Unfortunately, a mouthwatering scent hits me when I climb into the driver’s seat. It’s just as I expected, fleshy black cherries, juicy and sweet. There’s something else and whatever it is, it’s drawing me in. And I’m not the only one who notices it.
Carson leans in, smelling her delicately. “What is that?” he asks.
“Tom Ford, right?” Rich answers. “I’ve smelled it before but not on a person. How did you get it? It’s not even available to the public yet.”
“It is Tom Ford. Lost Cherry, comes out next year.” She spins around to face the back seat. “My brother got an early bottle for me. That’s creepy and impressive.”
Rich shrugs. “What can I say, I know my lady perfumes.”
“You mean you like wearing lady perfumes,” Carson jokes.
“You’re not an easy man to please, Carson, but I do what I can,” Rich comes back flatly.
Brady and I laugh at Carson.
Jenny turns back and gives me a look, wrinkling her nose a little. “My perfume’s not too strong, is it?” she asks quietly as if suddenly we’re girlfriends.
“No,” I manage to say while worrying I look as constipated as I feel. But the smell of her has gotten into my head and I’m fairly sure I’m high.
“You can tell me if it is. I’ll go scrub a little off.” She nods her head at the cottage, her gray eyes dazzling me. I thought they were green, but up close they’re totally gray and framed by thick black lashes. Her lush lips lift. “Lawrence?”
“Sorry, no. It’s fine.” I start the cart and drive us away from the cottages, heading back for the pavilion where a fire has been set up for drinks and s’mores. “Which way is it again?” I’m actually high and fighting getting hard.
“The pavilion is that way. Dude.” Brady slaps me on the shoulder, squeezing too hard. “You still a little punch drunk there, buds?”
“Yup,” I lie. “Getting shot in the face point-blank must have rattled my brains.” I try to be cool and glance in her direction. But that’s not it. I’m drunk on the shiny gloss and creamy cherry-scented skin next to me. I bet she’s soft and has pink nipp—fuck!
“Oh come on, Lori, you know getting shot in the face is your thing,” Carson jokes.
“So, Jenny, you gonna tell us how long Bev’s been planning this paintball situation with you?” Brady is painfully crushing on this girl, but I’m glad he’s talking since my tongue is suddenly frozen and my cock is midway to bursting through my pants. While it would be nice to end the small dick jokes once and for all, I doubt it’s how she wants this ride to go. “Because that felt like a setup.”
“Last night she asked me to join her in the assassination of the team.” Jenny laughs. “She somehow knew where the wedding venue was, so they all brought their gear. She’s probably been planning crushing you guys for a while.”
“Yeah, Bev was one of the few Sami trusted enough to tell wedding details to. I think she helped a lot,” Carson adds. “But back to the paintball, you are weirdly good at that for a girl living in New York.”
“I went to college in Montreal and my roommate there was huge into it. He forced me to join the team. They needed one girl on the team according to the rules. And I had already played”—she pauses and swallows hard—“sports my whole life. So it was easy to take a strategic sports brain and put it in the course.”
“Where in Montreal?” I ask, trying to sound normal.
“McGill.”
Her sentence, the fact Cap knew her, Montreal, and paintball hit and I blurt, “Holy fuck! You’re on Team Canada!” Her face behind a helmet flashes with her stats through my mind. She’s still one of the top scorers in the league.
“What?” Brady asks. “Team Canada?”
Jenny’s eyes widen and the humor and fun are gone. The girl she was on the porch with the cute smile and carefree attitude has vanished and the tense ball of stress is back.
“Team Canada?” Brady asks again. “What sport?”
“She’s only one of the best hockey players in the world.” I turn to her as I park the cart near everyone else’s at the pavilion. “You’re a killer. That’s how Cap knows you. You’re Jennifer Snowdon from Montreal on Team Canada, Number Twenty-two.”
Her cheeks flush as Brady leans right in. “You play hockey?”
“I haven’t played in a while,” she confesses.
“Goddamn. Is there anything you can’t do?”
She bites her juicy lip but the red lipstick doesn’t budge. It’s sorcery. Of course she has magic lipstick.
“Team Canada, what the hell? That’s what Cap was talking about when he said your story wasn’t his to tell.” Brady laughs and climbs out, offering her his hand. “Fuck, I thought he had some nasty band groupie story about your brother’s band.”
“Nope.” She laughs nervously and takes it, letting him help her off the cart.
“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. I had your poster in my room,” I say as I climb out after them, completely baffled that she is the—no THE—Jennifer Snowdon from Montreal whose hobbies include paintball.
“What?” She wrinkles her nose.
Brady winces because that’s the least cool thing I’ve ever said but there’s no recovering now. I said it. It’s out there and they’re all staring at me.
“Yeah, not like last week.” I laugh and realize how nervous I sound. Jesus, help me. “I was fifteen. And it was the whole Team Canada in full gear. They had just won the gold. You played two years, right? 2010 and 2014?” I change the subject from me.
“Yeah, two gold medals.” There’s pride mixed with the hesitation in her voice.
“How old are you?” Carson asks Jenny, earning an even more astounded look from Brady.
“Guys—” Brady mutters.
“Twenty-eight,” she answers that easily, but her voice wavers for the next part, “I played for Canada when I was twenty-one and twenty-five. They used my Montreal address because my first year on the team, that’s where I lived.”
“Will you play next year?” Rich asks.
“No, I’m officially retired.” She tries to sound nonchalant but is visibly uncomfortable. I don’t understand why. She’s an all-star and a legend.
“Fuck me. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. Team Canada. What the hell? How did you end up being our PR rep? So random.” Brady walks into the pavilion. Rich and Carson follow him, leaving Jenny and I standing by the lake. She doesn’t move so I don’t either.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt that out.”
“It’s okay.” She eyes the pavilion.
“Why didn’t you say something before, when Cap mentioned it?”
She bites her lip again and I try not to stare. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing.” She blushes.
“Embarrassing to be a superstar?”
“No.” She’s nervous. “It’s just—I’m overseeing the NHL PR contract for my boss who handles a bunch of sports contracts in Europe. So in a way, I’m in charge of the entire NHL while he’s away. At twenty-eight. It’s kind of a big deal.” She pauses and sighs heavily.
“Ohh, you don’t want people to think you got the job as a perk?” Of course, I understand that.
“Exactly.” She lightens up a bit. “I don’t want people to think I got my job because of the gold medals and being a hockey celebrity. I worked hard in university, even with playing on the team and working out and doing all the sponsor bullshit. I earned this job and I work hard every day to keep it and climb the ladder. So I try to keep my past separate.”
“That makes sense.” I completely understand her secrecy. “I swear, the fans and whatever will haunt me the rest of my life.”
“Well, and you are the Lawrence Eckelston,” she teases and seems to relax a bit again.
“So you handle all the NHL and no one ever recognizes you?”
“They do but rarely.” She starts walking to the pavilion. “Like how Cap did almost right away. But I don’t bring it up and I avoid talking about it if someone else does.”
“It’s cool. I was hoping to play on the team next year.”
“We both know you will.” She rolls her eyes and laughs.
“Maybe.” I smile and almost wonder how the two of us got off to such a rough start, but there’s no forgetting that first day.
When we reach the pavilion, it’s obvious Brady has revealed her secret identity. Beverly’s eyes are wide and the rest of the team have their mouths open.
“I knew you were awesome but two gold medals? That’s badass.” Bev points to Jenny.
“I mean, it’s Canada,” Jenny brushes it off. “If we don’t win hockey and curling—”
“Oh my God, stop! This is huge and you’re not downplaying it.” She walks over, stealing Jenny to go sit with her, ignoring me completely.
