Game On

by Kelly Jamieson

  They set the trophy reverently on the small table and moved aside as the commissioner spoke again.

  Chaser grabbed me for another hug. I barely heard the commissioner’s words. “Ten years…congratulations, Mick Rooney…passion and dedication…and to Brad Wendell and the coaching staff…most of all these great players…hoist the Stanley Cup…Marc Dupuis, you get the honor.”

  Duper skated forward again, grinning ear to ear. He had a reputation for being serious and steady—Captain Codger—but the last few years since I’d been with the team, he’d seemed lighter and more relaxed, taking his role as captain seriously but having fun with it too. Halfway across the ice, he swung around to face us and pumped his fists in the air with a huge yell.

  I laughed.

  We all watched in a delirious daze as he and the commissioner picked up the Cup, Duper’s smile as big as the sky. Then Duper took it in his own hands and hoisted it into the air over his head, setting off to skate his lap, kissing it, brandishing it to the team and the cheering crowd.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered. “This is really happening.”

  Chaser slung his arm around my shoulders again. “Fuck yeah!”

  Duper handed it off to Army, pausing with them both holding it to lean in and say something, nose to nose. They’d been best friends for years, not to mention family due to Duper marrying Army’s sister.

  We all had a turn. When Nicky picked up the Cup and kissed it, he looked skyward and yelled, “This is for you, Aleks!”

  That choked me up, remembering Nicky’s brother, a talented player who’d committed suicide a few years back. I was happy for Nicky getting this chance.

  Then Hallsy handed the Cup to me. I wanted to remember this for the rest of my life, so I tried to take it all in…the fans cheering, the players and team management on the ice, the feel of the Cup in my hands, heavy, cool, and so, so gorgeous.

  Then it was time for family to join us, more people pouring onto the ice. I spotted Olivia and started toward her. My parents were right behind her, but I skated directly to her and swept her into my arms. Her face was wet, her smile luminous, and she wrapped her arms around me and held on tight as we embraced, rocking back and forth. I was shaking, my heart banging, eyes stinging.

  “Congratulations,” she said to me. “I am so, so happy for you, honey. You did it! You played fantastic. You won the game!”

  I nodded, my throat too constricted to talk. I could only squeeze her tighter and hold on to her for a long moment.

  Thank God I had her here to hug. I’d nearly lost her, the woman who meant everything to me…yes, even more than the Cup. If she weren’t here with me, in my arms and by my side, this wouldn’t have had the same meaning. Relief and gratitude permeated my entire being along with the incredible joy.

  “I’m never letting you go,” I murmured in her ear.

  “Good.” She drew back, and we smiled into each other’s eyes, then kissed in a long, loaded meeting of our mouths.

  Reluctantly we parted, and I smiled at Mom and Dad. They were both crying too, Mom openly, Dad blinking and swiping a fist over his eyes. I think Mom was crying more about me and Olivia than she was about the Cup. I hugged her first. “I love you,” she sobbed. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Then Dad pounded on my back and enfolded me in his arms. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out. When we drew apart he said in a low voice, “Here.”

  Our hands met, and I took what he gave me and turned back to Olivia. She was still laughing and crying. I dropped down on one knee on the ice in front of her and held out the ring my dad had just slipped me. “Olivia…will you marry me?”

  Her eyes popped wide, her face went scarlet, and she slapped her hands over her mouth, staring at the ring, then at me. “Oh my God!”

  Others around us had noticed and were watching and laughing. It didn’t take long for us to be surrounded by cameras.

  “I know it’s fast, but I love you and I want to spend all my life with you.”

  “Oh.” Her tears fell faster now, and to my surprise, she too went to her knees on the ice so she was at my level. She held out a shaking hand, and I slid the ring onto her finger. Mine. I cupped her face in my hands to kiss her, both our faces wet. Then we wrapped our arms around each other and cried together for a moment. Yeah, I was crying too.

  Eventually we stood, skating and shuffling around the ice, mingling, sharing more hugs and congratulations, Olivia showing off the ring.

  There were Rupper and Sidney holding on to each other along with their daughter, Aubree, adorable in her little Aces jersey. This was Rupper’s last game—he’d officially announced his retirement at the end of the season. Thank fuck we’d won this for him.

  Hallsy and Kendra hugged, her pregnant belly making it harder for them. After embracing and kissing, Hallsy went to his knees, placed his hands gently on her stomach, and kissed her there. This might be his last game too.

  Marley was here, and she and Bomber were hugging it out. Things seemed to be getting serious for them.

  Nick had his daughter, Zyana, on his shoulders. She too was wearing an Aces jersey, her dark curls bouncing with excitement. Technically, Zyana wasn’t his daughter; Jodie’d had Zyana before she and Nicky had met, but they’d done a quickie private wedding and he’d officially adopted her. Jodie was pregnant too, but not as far along as Kendra. I watched Jodie and Kendra move together and clasp each other tightly. They’d been friends for years and both ended up married to guys on the team.

  Photographers were going crazy taking pictures of Jordyn Banks on the ice with Chaser, a golden celebrity couple. She’d sung the national anthem tonight, and it had evidently brought us luck.

  Katelyn and Benny were grinning at each other like fools, then he picked her up and swung her around. They’d been together years ago and had split up, then were reunited here in Chicago. Benny’d sworn off marriage before that, but last summer Katelyn the wedding planner had gotten to plan their own wedding (the one where Chaser and I had slow-danced together for an entire song to win a bet).

  Jenna brought out her and Rosser’s year-old son Dillon, who shouted, “Dada won da Cup!” over and over.

  My gaze landed on youngsters Jacob Flass and Ben Buckingham with their girlfriends, Skylar and Ella. These young pups had won the Stanley Cup in their first season with the Aces. That had to be pretty sweet. But I was weirdly glad I’d had to wait for a while. Things had always come easy for me, but now I knew the truth in that saying: Where there is no struggle, there is no strength. I’d worked hard for this, and I’d learned that if I wanted Olivia, I had to make the effort. I was a better, stronger man because of it. And she was worth it.

  Amber and their son, Jax, hugged Army, his Stanley Cup cap on backward as he often wore his caps, the dude who loved his jeans and boots, his boat and fishing. And who loved his wife and son. Apparently Amber was pregnant again too, not far along though.

  Lovey joined Duper with their son, Alex, named after Duper’s middle name Alexandre, in her arms. He’d just had his first birthday last month. Lovey was a cool person—a great mom, a supportive wife, the unofficial leader of the WAGs, tireless fundraiser for various charities…and tons of fun. Maybe it was her influence that had loosened up a tightly wound Duper, now smiling down at her, eyes full of love for both her and Alex. And maybe Duper’s sense of responsibility and leadership had rubbed off on Lovey and taught her how to be a leader in the hockey community. Lovey handed Alex to Duper and turned to hug her brother, Army, then their parents, and then Hallsy’s wife, Kendra, who was Lovey’s cousin.

  We were a big family, some of us actually related by blood or marriage, all of us tied together by our love of the sport. Hockey was the best sport in the world. I knew I was biased, but I believed it. It’s a true team sport, a sport that not only demands a certain
skill set but also requires that you be able to skate on top of that. I loved the sounds of the game—the puck on a stick, or the boards; the yells from teammates calling for a pass; the vibrating thunder of a big hit; the noise the crowd made when we were about to score, the way the excitement rose and then exploded in a crescendo of excitement when the puck bulged the twine. I loved the sound of skates carving into ice, even that unique ping of a puck going off the pipes. I loved the diehard fans who cheered for us.

  I loved that we were all warriors…and yet I saw all these big tough guys skating around, some of them in tears, carrying their children, hugging their wives, and I knew these guys had the biggest hearts.

  We’d just won the Cup. Next year, the team could look entirely different, with players retiring, maybe moving on. I didn’t know what the future held, except I knew Olivia would be with me. And…I couldn’t wait until October.

  To everyone who loves hockey and everyone who loves romance

  Acknowledgments

  This is the end of the Aces Hockey series, but never fear, dear readers, there will be more hockey romance from me! Stay tuned to my blog, my newsletter, and social media for news about my next hockey series, Wynn Hockey…some of the Aces may even make cameo appearances in the upcoming stories.

  I have so many people to thank for helping to make the Aces Hockey series so successful.

  First of all, Major Misconduct was the manuscript that landed me my fabulous agent, Emily Sylvan Kim, who has been such a support ever since. Thank you, Emily, for believing in my Aces and in me!

  Major Misconduct was also the manuscript that landed me a contract with Loveswept. I am forever grateful to everyone at Loveswept for all you’ve done for me and my books—Sue Grimshaw, Gina Wachtel, Matthew Schwartz, Madeleine Kenney, and the cover designers and production team who work on my books. My writing career has grown so much because of all of you.

  To all the authors in the Hockey with Heart group—you are amazing, talented, generous people who also love hockey like me. We can ask the most arcane questions—about dressing rooms and planes and cellphones and game-day schedules and WAGs and NHL rules and so much more, and everyone shares whatever they can to help each other.

  To bloggers and reviewers who share the word about my books, thank you for all that you do.

  I also have to thank the sports reporters at the Winnipeg Free Press. Pretty sure you guys don’t read romance, so you’ll probably never see this! But living in a hockey-crazy city with a local newspaper that reports multiple articles daily on the Winnipeg Jets during hockey season, including a lot of special interest stories about the players and their lives, has given me so much information and so many story ideas.

  And if I’m going to thank the local newspaper, I might as well thank Mark Chipman and David Thomson for bringing the Jets back to Winnipeg! I started writing hockey romance before we had an NHL team here again, but now that we do, it has made my hockey writing so much more authentic. Now I get to go to actual NHL games—and it’s research!

  Another person to thank is Lance Thomson, who was the photographer for the Winnipeg Jets the first four years they were back in Winnipeg. He answered my many questions and gave me interesting details as well as behind-the-scenes looks at things.

  Chicago! I love you! I fell in love with Chicago during my numerous visits, when I soaked up the atmosphere, the culture, the history, the food, and even attended an NHL game! The more research I did, the more I fell in love with the city. Thank you for being a wonderful home to my Chicago Aces.

  Thank you to the members of my Sweet Heat Reader Group, who are always there for me, answering crazy questions about country music songs and kids’ movies and team mascots. I love you all!

  Most of all, thank you to all my readers. I am so moved and humbled by your love for the Aces team and these books. Readers and reviewers have complimented my hockey knowledge, and that means the world to me. I love the sport of hockey and take pride in getting it right. But I also want to write engaging characters and heart-warming romances…and readers have responded to that too. While my first hockey series made me a USA Today bestselling author, I was thrilled that Icing and Top Shelf also hit that bestseller list. And that is thanks to everyone who bought my books. I am so deeply grateful.

  BY KELLY JAMIESON

  Aces Hockey

  Major Misconduct

  Off Limits

  Icing

  Top Shelf

  Back Check

  Slap Shot

  Playing Hurt

  Big Stick

  Game On

  Wynn Hockey

  Play to Win

  Bayard Hockey

  Shut Out

  Cross Check

  Last Shot

  Body Shot

  Hot Shot

  Long Shot

  Other Books

  Dancing in the Rain

  PHOTO: LANCE THOMSON PHOTOGRAPHIC

  USA Today bestselling author KELLY JAMIESON is the author of more than forty contemporary romance novels. She writes the kind of books she loves to read—sexy romances with heat, humor, and emotion. She likes coffee (black), wine (mostly white), and shoes (high!). She also loves watching hockey.

  kellyjamieson.com

  Twitter: @KellyJamieson

  Read on for an excerpt from

  Play to Win

  Wynn Hockey

  by Kelly Jamieson

  Available from Loveswept

  This is the weirdest fucking job interview I’ve ever had.

  I rise from the chair in my Las Vegas apartment and carry my glass of whiskey—Crown Royal XO—over to the window. Outside, the pool shimmers turquoise in the dusk, palm trees silhouetted against the cobalt sky.

  “Come on, Théo.” My grandfather speaks from my big brown leather couch where he’s still sitting. “I can’t believe you’re not jumping at this opportunity.”

  I turn to face him. At seventy-five, he’s still a fit-looking man. I don’t think he’s lost an inch of his six feet, two inches of height. His physique isn’t as muscled as it was back in the days when he played hockey, but he’s still imposing. His mostly gray hair has receded at the temples, but he still has hair. The legendary scar across his right eyebrow isn’t as prominent now that his forehead and eyes are more creased, and his face is tanned from living in California for nearly forty years.

  He fixes his blue eyes on me—eyes that were once piercing but now look a little cloudy.

  I walk back over and sit on the chair across from him. I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Grandpa. You know I can’t take this job. My dad would crap hockey pucks and go all Tiger Woods on my ass if I came to work for you.”

  Grandpa smiles. “Yeah.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because I don’t want your fucking job if you’re just doing it to piss off Dad.”

  “No.” His smirk morphs into a scowl. “That’s just a happy side benefit.”

  I roll my eyes. Christ. This feud between my dad, my uncle, and their father—now sitting here in front of me—is bringing back my stomach ulcer. I ignore the gnawing feeling in my upper abdomen.

  Yeah, my dad would flip a shit if I took a job working for his father, but there’s more to my refusal than that. I’m not afraid to admit that I want my dad to be proud of me and what I do, but I could live with pissing him off. What I couldn’t live with? Taking this job and failing miserably. I’ve had enough experience letting down the family to know that this would be the ultimate disgrace. And it wouldn’t just be my dad…it would disgrace the entire Wynn family, the hockey dynasty known worldwide. No pressure at all.

  “I told you why I want you for this job,” Grandpa continues in his rough voice. “You’re a smart guy.”

  I almost snort. Yeah, I’m smart. So smart my fam
ily thought I was a weirdo growing up.

  “You know hockey,” Grandpa says. “More important, you know the hockey business. Look what you’ve done here in Vegas.”

  “I haven’t done it all myself.”

  I’m the assistant general manager of the expansion NHL team here. They hired me three years ago even though I was only twenty-five years old and had no experience managing a hockey team. But I’d built my hockey analytics business Coast to Coast into something people were taking notice of. Yeah, we’ve had some success here, and despite my protest, I know I’ve contributed a hell of a lot to that success.

  “Don’t you want to though? Don’t you want to manage a team?” He eyes me shrewdly.

  Dammit. I do.

  The idea of being a general manager, of being in charge of everything—responsible for acquiring the rights to player personnel, negotiating contracts, moving out players who no longer fit on the team, the challenges of constructing a team under the salary cap, along with managing the scouts, the trainers, the coaches—it’s what I’ve wanted…well, not my whole life. What I’d wanted my whole life was to play in the NHL, and I’d achieved that…for six short months before it had been slew-footed out from under me.

  But since then…hell yeah. I want it.

  But taking a job working for my grandfather, owner of the California Condors hockey team in Santa Monica, with all the shit that existed in my big, crazy, fucked up family…if I thought my ulcer was bad now, holy shit, I’d be not only eating proton pump inhibitors, I’d be downing beta blockers for my blood pressure and probably Xanax too.