Hockey Ring

by Kristen Echo

  HOCKEY RING

  PUCK BATTLE SERIES

  BOOK EIGHT

  A Holiday Hockey Romance

  By: Kristen Echo

  HOCKEY RING

  Puck Battle Series Book Eight

  Copyright © 2019 by Kristen Echo and Kristen Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the above copyright owner of this book or publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Website: https://www.echoromance.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenecho/

  eBook ISBN:978-1-7753433-5-6

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  AUTHOR NOTE

  SNEAK PEEK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  N o one answered.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Westlyn asked for the second time as she kicked a stone across the parking lot. Her body was slumped and turned away, hiding her face from Gwen. Far too much stress rested on those teenage shoulders.

  Gwen moved closer to her daughter and wrapped an arm around her. She couldn’t blame the kid for no longer trusting her judgment. Her track record wasn’t the best at making sound decisions regarding their living arrangements. Lately, Gwen second guessed herself too. Not that she’d admit that to the eighteen-year-old nay-sayer beside her.

  With a painted smile on her face, she re-dialed her sister’s number. “She’ll answer,” she assured Westlyn.

  The phone rang. She swallowed hard. Her baby sister had to be home. It wasn’t that late. The hot, summer sun teetered on the edge of the horizon and glared back, making her squint. She looked down at their luggage. Her grip on the suitcase handle tightened as she sent a silent prayer to the heaven’s for Cherie to answer. After the third ring, she closed her eyes.

  Begging for help wasn’t beneath her. She’d been forced to ask for assistance countless times in her life. She’d eaten her share of humble pie and she’d eat more if it offered a better life for Westlyn.

  “Hello,” Cherie answered breathlessly.

  She exhaled a sigh of relief. Her chest felt lighter and tight at the same time. She rubbed over her heart. “Hey, Cherie-bo-berry. How are you? Are you home?”

  It had been over a month since they last spoke. The conversation had involved Gwen asking to borrow money and Cherie refusing. The response had been expected. For the rest of the world Cherie would give the shirt off her back, but not for Gwen. For her sister, compassion and understanding were never offered.

  A moment of silence followed. “Usually, you give me the cold shoulder for a lot longer after I turn you down. I’m not giving you money. Don’t ask again. I haven’t changed my mind,” Cherie snapped.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m not calling for money.” She knew her sister well enough to know she’d never change her mind. She was stubborn. They had that in common. Gwen chewed the inside of her cheek and crossed her fingers.

  “Oh. What’s up? Why do you want to know if I’m home?”

  The clipped tone didn’t go unnoticed. “Westlyn and I are in Winnipeg. Surprise,” she announced like it was a good thing.

  “You’re what?”

  Gwen peered up at the condominium complex in front of her. The walls of glass reflected the sun, making her wish she hadn’t removed her sunglasses. “We’re in the parking lot outside your building. Actually, we’re standing next to your car.”

  The white Land Rover had belonged to their father before he passed a few years prior. She ran her hand over the smooth hood and looked at the sea of other high-end vehicles. The occupants of this building had money.

  This was the first time Gwen had surprised her baby sister with a visit. Cherie had a chip on her shoulder and no amount of effort from Gwen softened it. They hadn’t lived in the same city in over twenty years. As a result, they weren’t close. After Gwen left for college, she’d only returned a handful of times. They were never joyous occasions. The last time had been to attend their father’s funeral. A massive disagreement followed. Since then, they’d kept their relationship to phone calls and video chats. Even those few and far between communications had been initiated by Gwen. If it weren’t for Westlyn, she suspected she’d have no relationship with her baby sister.

  “Can you let us up? I’ll explain everything in person,” Gwen said, hoping to coax a response.

  “You should have warned me. I… I have plans tonight,” she huffed. “This is such a Gwen move. You’re always acting impetuously and have zero regard for others.”

  She shuffled her feet and patted Westlyn’s slumped shoulder. “Is that a no?”

  “If it was just you, I’d have to think about it. But I can’t say no to my niece. I’ll buzz you in.”

  A smile curled around the corner of her lip. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to seeing you.” She disconnected, and they made their way towards the skyrise complex.

  The elevator ride was quiet. Her daughter kept her head down. The heat from outside had followed them into the confined space. Gwen wiped the sweat from her brow, wishing for a breeze or anything to cool her down. The four walls seemed to close in around her. The air was thick and humid. Stifling.

  “You’d think a place this nice would have air conditioning,” she mumbled as she tugged at the neckline of her shirt and glanced down.

  Everything they owned was crammed into three large suitcases. Gwen’s eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall in front of her daughter. A slew of bad choices had brought them to this point. She hoped this decision would turn things around.

  When the door opened on the fourth floor, she rushed into the hall and inhaled deeply. This reunion would not be pleasant. She’d debated not coming, but she’d been out of options. Wes walked past her and knocked on the door with a sure hand.

  Cherie opened the door, looking like a million bucks. Her hair was perfect. Sleek, golden blonde with platinum highlights styled into an elegant chignon. Her lithe body was covered in a skin-tight, red dress. She radiated confidence and sex appeal.

  “Wow.” Gwen’s ripped jean shorts and coffee stained t-shirt couldn’t compare. “Hi,” she said, tucking a few wayward brown strands behind her ear.

  It had been a while since she’d seen the inside of a salon. Her sister didn’t have a single white hair, unlike Gwen whose roots desperately needed a touch up. She smoothed her hands over her roots, trying to hide them. It had been a rough couple of months, following her break-up and Westlyn’s diagnosis. Then there was the school incident. So many things were out of her control. Gwen needed to focus on the few items she could fix. Step one had been getting out of British Columbia. Step two was to find work and fill her empty bank account.

  Cherie’s mouth remained in a straight line. It was clear she hadn’t expected them, nor did she want them. Her ramrod strai
ght posture conveyed her feelings loud and clear. She held the door open only a fraction wide enough for them to squeeze through. At least she let them in.

  There was no welcome mat, coat rack or other shoes lining the entry. Just them and their stuff, cluttering an otherwise empty space.

  “I see you’ve brought bags. Are you expecting to stay here?” Cherie asked after hugging Wes.

  The sisters didn’t embrace. The strain between them was Gwen’s fault, and she hoped to remedy the situation. Cherie was five years younger and wildly more successful. Gwen didn’t envy her sister’s career. The long hours of corporate law wouldn’t have worked with her role as a single parent.

  “That would be great. Only for a short while,” Gwen added.

  “A very short while,” her sister agreed. “As I mentioned, I’ve got plans this evening. My… friend will be here shortly, and I suppose we’ll head out. Please head to the guest room and settle in. Perhaps we can all catch up in the morning,” she said with the warmth of an icicle.

  “Thank you for offering a bed.” Wes smiled and hugged her aunt. Her long brown locks fell over her face like a veil, shielding her. “Which one is mine?”

  “Second door on the left,” Cherie responded, pointing down the hall. “You’ll have to share with your mother. This is only a two-bedroom.”

  The condo was luxury from top to bottom. The walls were covered with modern scroll wallpaper. It was posh but lacked personality. The colors reminded her of a magazine cover, bright and light, drawing the focus to the floor to ceiling windows. From the crown moldings, the TV to the appliances, all the finishes were high-end.

  “Thanks, Aunty.” Wes appeared exhausted and retreated to the guest room without hesitation, dragging her two bags behind her.

  When Gwen stepped to follow, Cherie gripped her arm. Her cold fingers dug into her bicep, stopping her in her tracks. Their eyes met. Her sister raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to say something.

  “Sorry, I should thank you for taking us in,” she said. “I meant to say thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  Cherie let go and planted her hands on her slender hips. “I don’t need your gratitude. What kind of mother pulls her daughter out of school weeks before graduation? That’s a monumental moment for a girl.” Her voice was low enough for Westlyn not to hear.

  “The kind that wants her daughter to survive,” she replied through clenched teeth.

  If her sister knew even half of the hell Westlyn had endured this past year, she wouldn’t have asked. She squared her shoulders, ready to fight. If Gwen had been a better mother, she’d have switched schools sooner. As quickly as her hackles raised, they fell. Those failures weighed heavily on her heart.

  “You don’t—”

  Loud music blared in the background. “That’s my phone,” Cherie explained and raced towards the kitchen.

  The conversation wasn’t one she was in the mood to continue. Another time. Gwen escaped to the guest room and found Wes already under the covers. She checked her watch. It was only nine-thirty. The curtains were open, bathing the room in light.

  “Are you actually tired or are you trying to avoid life?” She sat on the bed and pulled the floral covers off her daughter’s face.

  A beautiful clear complexion and deep, jade green eyes stared back. “A little of both,” Wes admitted. “She doesn’t seem happy to have us here. I told you to call her. No one likes surprises.”

  A chuckle escaped. “You love surprises. And you’re right. I thought about calling, but she would have said no. Your aunt is still ticked with me because I lost our mother’s jewelry. One day she’ll forgive me.”

  “You also owe her ten grand. Don’t forget that minor detail.”

  As if she could. She pinched her daughter’s nose and smiled. “I’ll pay her back. Don’t worry about that stuff. Focus on—”

  “Taking my meds and fixing my head. Is that what you were going to say?” Westlyn sat upright, and the covers pooled around her stomach. She’d removed her bracelets, leaving her arms bare.

  Gwen’s eyes drifted to her teenager’s tiny wrists. Deep, angry, fresh scars decorated the young skin. A permanent reminder of the day she’d almost lost her. Westlyn was her ray of sunshine and her rock. A world without her would be unbearable.

  She hugged her, burrowing her nose in her hair. “Enjoying your early summer; that’s what I was going to say.”

  Weak arms wrapped around her waist. “Sure you were, Mom.”

  Breathing in her sweet, fruity scented hair, Gwen let go. “If you’re tired, get some rest, but take your pill first. Doc says one before bed.”

  The new medication treating her depression was expensive. The side effects were zapping her daughter’s energy. Gwen couldn’t tell if they were working or not.

  Wes reached over her and pulled a half empty bottle of pills from her purse. She popped one without water, swallowed and opened wide. “Happy?”

  The examination wasn’t necessary. “I am if you are.” she answered.

  Neither spoke again. Wes laid her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Gwen remained seated on the double bed, rubbing her back for a while. When her daughter’s breaths evened, she stopped and stood.

  Her eyes were wide open. Sleep wouldn’t come for a long while she thought, looking out the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. A forest of green was nestled next to the concrete parking lot. Gwen spotted a trail among the foliage. A walk would do her some good. Fresh air to help clear her head.

  When she came out of the guest room, she heard voices. She tiptoed down the hall past the dining area. The frosted glass doors were closed. As she stepped by, a door opened, sending her sideways and careening towards the floor.

  The marble tiles offered an unwelcome greeting for her backside. She landed with a thud. “Ouch!”

  “I’m sorry,” a deep, male voice said.

  If she wasn’t already on her butt, she would have fallen after seeing him. Spencer Northcote stood before her with his hand outstretched to help her to her feet. She froze. His face had aged, but it wasn’t one she’d ever forget. First loves had a way of sticking in the brain, even after trying to erase them.

  The past hit her like a one-two punch to the gut, stealing her air and her ability to talk. Her ex-boyfriend and first big mistake looked the same, only older. A few lines around his eyes and the silver in his hair added an extra layer of appeal. Spencer had always been attractive, but he’d become more dashing. Almost irresistible.

  Visions of their first kiss resurfaced. Behind the bleachers at the community hockey arena, she’d been shivering, and he’d wrapped his arms around her. He’d stared into her eyes as his mouth covered hers. He hadn’t asked for permission, and she never pushed him away. The softest and warmest lips on the planet had put an end to the shivers. They’d known each other for all of an hour and she’d let him kiss her.

  She’d let him do a whole lot more too. Like break her heart.

  Drinking him in, she felt drunk from the memories. Their eyes locked. A shiver raced down her spine as she got lost in his swirls of blue. Just like the first time she saw him, her heart beat faster. The man was dapper and utterly delectable. She noticed his eyes widen as recognition dawned. Maybe she wasn’t so easily forgotten either.

  “Hi,” he said, leaning towards her. “Give me your hand”

  She pushed his hand away. Nothing good would come from him.

  Cherie halted mid step when she entered the hall. Her eyes narrowed as she saw her sprawled on the floor. “What are you doing? Get up.”

  Gwen scrambled to her feet without responding to either. She needed to get out of there and fast. The exit was behind them. She exhaled and smoothed her rumpled t-shirt. Bumping into her ex and looking like she’d crawled out of a dumpster wasn’t how she’d have envisioned their reunion. In fact, she’d hoped to never see him again.

  “Gwen,” he spoke her name as if he were testing it out. “It�
�s been a long time.” Spencer ran his hand through his full head of hair and smiled.

  The enchanting curve of his lip made her knees weak. She looked away as Cherie stepped between them. She welcomed the distance.

  “We were on our way out to celebrate Spencer’s big win,” Cherie explained. “Shall we?” She curled her arm around Spencer’s.

  Gwen looked between the two, flabbergasted that her sister hadn’t told her she was talking with her ex. Then again, they didn’t have the type of relationship where they confided in one another. Hell, they barely spoke at all. Her mouth opened to ask what win, but she didn’t. It was none of her business. She didn’t care. She snapped her mouth closed.

  “The team won,” he added.

  Cherie smiled as she slapped his chest playfully. Her hand lingered against the lapels on his jacket. “Don’t be modest. The Stanley Cup is a major accomplishment. A celebration drink is in order.”

  So many questions begged to be asked, but Gwen kept quiet. She refused to get sucked into his vortex and care about his life. She forced her eyes off him and looked at her feet as she stepped past the pair towards the exit.

  “Join us,” Spencer offered, catching her off guard.

  Her footsteps halted on command. No. Hell no, she wanted to shout. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder and once again his handsome face crippled her ability to think clearly. She shook her head, unable to respond verbally.

  “She can’t,” Cherie answered for her. “Gwen’s not dressed appropriately for where we’re going. Plus, the reservation is only for two.”

  “Then we’ll stay here. That was the original plan,” Spencer responded. “I’m sure you can cancel the reservation.”

  “But… I pulled some strings to get the best—”

  “We’re staying here.” His tone brokered no argument.

  “If that’s what you want?” Cherie asked.

  “It is.” Spencer pointed towards the living room. “After you, ladies.”