GAME MISCONDUCT
The Baltimore Banners Book 11
Lisa B. Kamps
GAME MISCONDUCT
Copyright © 2018 by Elizabeth Belbot Kamps
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.
The Baltimore Banners™ is a fictional professional ice hockey team, its name and logo created for the sole use of the author and covered under protection of trademark.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names, living or dead. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any individual, place, business, or event is purely coincidental.
Artwork and Cover Design by Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art
http://www.simplydefinedart.com/
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Other titles by this author
Prologue
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
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
PLAYING THE GAME preview
ONCE BURNED preview
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Other titles by this author
For Angelina Smith.
For your kind words that always bring tears to my eyes. For your unwavering support when I need it the most and you don't even know it.
Most of all, for just being you.
Thank you!
Other titles by this author:
THE BALTIMORE BANNERS
Crossing the Line, Book 1
Game Over, Book 2
Blue Ribbon Summer, Book 3
Body Check, Book 4
Break Away, Book 5
Playmaker, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella
Delay of Game, Book 6
Shoot Out, Book 7
The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy
Books 1-3 Boxed set
The Baltimore Banners: 2nd Period Trilogy
Books 4-6 Boxed set
On Thin Ice, Book 8
Coach's Challenge, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella
One-Timer, Book 9
Face Off, Book 10
First Shot At Love, A Baltimore Banners Short Story
Game Misconduct, Book 11
Fighting To Score, Book 12
Matching Penalties, Book 13
THE YORK BOMBERS
Playing The Game, Book 1
Playing To Win, Book 2
Playing For Keeps, Book 3
Playing It Up, Book 4
Playing It Safe, Book 5
The York Bombers Boxed Set 1
Books 1-3
Playing For Love, Book 6
Playing His Part, Book 7
THE CHESAPEAKE BLADES
Winning Hard, Book 1
Loving Hard, Book 2
Playing Hard, Book 3
FIREHOUSE FOURTEEN
Once Burned, Book 1
Playing With Fire, Book 2
Breaking Protocol, Book 3
Into the Flames, Book 4
Second Alarm, Book 5
Feel The Burn, Book 6
Coming Soon
STAND-ALONE TITLES
Emeralds and Gold: A Treasury of Irish Short Stories (anthology)
Finding Dr. Right
Time To Heal
Dangerous Passion
Dangerous Heat
Illicit Affair
Coming Soon
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Prologue
Eight years earlier...
Corbin stared into amber eyes, felt himself being drawn in, pulled deeper than he'd ever allowed himself before. It would be easy to let himself cross that line, so easy to take a step closer, to wrap one large hand around the back of her head. To thread his fingers through the silky strands of honey blonde hair as he finally claimed her full, soft mouth with his.
How many times in the last two years had his heart beat so hard against his chest, he swore it would explode? That it would grow bigger and bigger, shredding through bone and muscle and skin before ripping free and finding its true target: Lori Evans, the woman standing so close to him, her head tilted back, a wealth of emotion in her eyes as she watched him.
She already had his heart, of that he was certain, despite the pain he was feeling at having to say goodbye.
How many times had they stood like this, so close yet never quite close enough? Too many times. Never close enough, not in the way he wanted. He could never have her, no matter how many times he wished otherwise. They could never be more than friends, no matter how many times Lori insisted they could.
She had just turned twenty, only two years younger than he. Not a huge difference. Not a difference that would matter if they weren't who they were.
If she wasn't who she was.
Ian Donovan's niece. His teammate's niece. How many times had the other man threatened him? How many times had the other players from the Banners had to pull Ian away? Too many to count.
A part of him briefly wondered if Ian was behind this sudden trade. No, that was nothing more than paranoia talking. It was simply his time to go. The Banners could only protect so many of their players in the expansion draft. Corbin hadn't been one of them.
Not that he should have been. But he had never expected, not in a hundred years, that he'd be one of the twenty-three players used to form the new team's active roster.
And now it was too late. There was no hope that Ian's insistence that Corbin stay away from his niece would slowly fade. No hope that Corbin would finally work up the courage to ask Lori out—on a real date, not simply as friends going out for coffee or to see a movie.
Regret chilled him. How many times had he pushed her away, insisting they could be nothing more than friends? How many times had she teased him for being shy, and telling him that one day he'd wish he hadn't been quite so honorable? Always with laughter in her eyes, always with hope in her voice.
There was no laughter in her gaze now, and the time for hope was gone. They both knew that. His flight left in three hours. A car would be picking him up to take him to the airport in fifteen minutes. He had timed it this way on purpose, so he wouldn't be tempted to do what he'd always wan
ted to do—take Lori. Make her his. Forever. The way he had always hoped.
"You weren't going to tell me." It was a statement, not a question, her accusing voice holding none of the hurt he glimpsed in the depths of her eyes.
Corbin stepped back, curled his hand around the handle of his duffel bag so he wouldn't reach for her. "You knew I had been traded."
"Yeah, but I didn't know you were leaving now. You still have time, you don't have to be out there for another two months."
"It's—it's better this way."
Lori tucked the hair behind her ears then curled her fingers against her palm—but not before he saw the way they were trembling, just a little. She blinked as the tiny muscle jumped in her smooth jaw and he knew she was clenching her teeth, struggling not to let him see how upset she was. Strong, stubborn...yet vulnerable, too. Did she know how easily he read her, even when she tried to hide it? He'd always been able to do that. Always.
It didn't matter, not anymore.
"I could go with you."
"Lori, non. It's—"
"Not today. In a few days. Just to visit. To help you get settled and—"
"You know your uncle won't let you."
Anger flared in the amber depths of her eyes. "Uncle Ian has no say in what I do. I'm an adult. I—"
Corbin reached out and pressed one finger against her mouth, silencing her. "You know it's not that easy, ma cocotte."
Her lips twitched against his finger, petal soft and velvety smooth. For one brief second, he thought she was going to take the tip of his finger into her mouth and he froze, his breath catching in his lungs as desire seized him.
Corbin dropped his hand and took another step back, needing to put more distance between them, knowing it wouldn't be enough. In eight hours, there would be a whole country between them, and it still wouldn't be enough.
"You'll call me when you land? Let me know when you find a place?"
"Yes, of course."
"And you'll keep in touch, right? We'll still talk and all?"
"Of course. Just like always, eh?" He forced a smile to his face and wondered if she knew he was lying. Wondered if she would ignore it, just the way he was. There would be no like always for them, not anymore.
And there would be no future. There had never been a chance for that, no matter how much he had wished otherwise.
A black SUV pulled to the curb, its driver emerging and watching them over the hood. "Corbin Gauthier?"
Corbin acknowledged the man with a curt nod then leaned down and grabbed the suitcase. "I need to go."
Lori nodded, her gaze dropping to the sidewalk in front of her. Would she simply turn around and walk away? Would she reach out and kick the suitcase with the scuffed toe of her leather boot? Or would she make a joke, offer a smile and try to tease him about...something?
She did none of those things. And when she finally looked at him with tears in her eyes, Corbin lost the last of his common sense and almost asked her to come with him. He opened his mouth, ready to do just that, when she launched herself at him.
And then her mouth was on his. Hot, wet, hungry. Full of promise. Corbin gasped, his blood rushing from his mind when her tongue met his. Seeking, thrusting. He dropped the duffel bag, heard it hit the ground with a solid thud as he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close.
Soft curves molded against him, warm and pliant. Lori's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his thick hair as she kissed him.
This. This is what he wanted. What he needed. Lori, in his arms, her lean curves molding against the hard planes of his own body, her kiss promising things he could never bring himself to hope for.
This. Lori. Nobody but Lori. With her, he could do anything. Become anything. With her—
But no, it was too late. She was already pulling away, already stepping back. And God help him, his heart shattered when he saw the silent tears falling over her lower lids and tracking down her smooth cheek. He reached out, needing to wipe them away, needing to promise—
Nothing. He could promise nothing. And there were no words he could say to erase the tears in her eyes. No words to ease the tightness in his chest.
Lori took another step back, angrily swiped at her face. "Have a safe flight, Corbin. Good luck."
"Lori—"
But she was walking away, the heels of her boots stomping what was left of his heart against the concrete sidewalk.
Chapter One
The memory hit him from out of nowhere, the pain as sharp and biting as taking a puck to the throat. He struggled to draw breath, raised his hand and clawed at the flesh of his neck as a dozen fragmented curses fell from his lips.
The woman standing several feet away blinked then slowly, carefully, raised her sculpted brows. In amusement? In silent question? He didn't know, didn't care, not when he was in danger of passing out from lack of oxygen.
Lori Evans. Was he imagining her? Was she nothing more than a hazy vision brought about from the sudden memory? No, it was her, the same girl he remembered from all those years ago.
The same, yet different. Not a girl—a woman. Her hair was a little longer now, the deep shades of honey blonde accented with lighter streaks that framed her smooth face. Her curves were a little fuller, a little softer where there had been dangerously lean muscle before. Gone were the scuffed leather boots he had always teased her about, replaced with shiny black heels that made her look taller than he remembered. Her mouth was the same, soft and full, the color a little darker thanks to the lipstick she wore. And her eyes...
She'd always had beautiful eyes, an unusual shade of amber that saw everything but could hide nothing. All emotion, all thought, had always been reflected in those deep eyes framed in sinfully long lashes. Those amber eyes watched him now—but he could no longer tell what she was thinking. Had she finally learned to hide her thoughts? Or was it simply because he hadn't seen her in so long? Because he no longer knew her?
Just as she no longer knew him.
He'd been dreading this moment for the last several weeks, ever since he'd been traded back to the Banners. Dreading it...yet anticipating it at the same time. What kind of masochist did that make him? What did that say about his character, about the man he'd become?
Familiar amber eyes slowly raked him, from the top of his head down to the tips of his expensive black shoes, then back up again. Her gaze finally met his and he thought he saw a flash of regret in their depths. A flash of pain and betrayal. But then she blinked and the emotion was gone, maybe it had never been there, maybe it was nothing more than his imagination or his guilty conscience—
He finally sucked air into his starving lungs, a strangled grunt of relief falling from his lips in the process. Heat filled his face and he wanted to look away, wanted to turn around and dive headfirst into the elevator that would take him back upstairs.
But the doors were already closing behind him, the quiet hiss echoing off the concrete of the floor and ceiling of the parking garage. He cursed again, in French, then bit his tongue as her brows shot up once more.
Had she understood him? No, she couldn't have. He'd always had to translate for her, and even then—even knowing she didn't understand—he'd always been careful not to swear around her.
But that was eight years ago. A lot of things happened in eight years. A lot of things changed. People changed. Just because she hadn't understood the words and phrases back then didn't mean she didn't understand them now.
An apology hovered on the tip of his tongue, quickly dying as she moved toward him. Her eyes never left his as one hand reached out, reaching for him—
No, not him. The elevator. Her finger pressed the button then her arm dropped to her side as she took a step back. Still close enough that he could smell the faintest hint of her perfume, something light that reminded him of fresh air and bright sun. Close enough that he could feel the heat of her body through the tailored pantsuit she wore.
Corbin swallowed, his gaze dropping t
o the fit of the jacket and the way it accented her rounded chest and trim waist. More heat filled his face when he noticed her necklace, a simple silver chain with a four-leaf clover pendant resting oh-so-temptingly in the hint of cleavage peeking out from the bright blue blouse.
Corbin yanked his gaze away and swallowed again, tried to work up enough spit to loosen his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He needed to do something, say something, anything—
The elevator doors hissed open behind him. Lori hesitated, one sculpted brow darting up just a fraction of an inch as she watched him. Disappointment flared in her eyes and she shook her head, stepping around him to enter the elevator.
He should let her go. He hadn't wanted to see her, he wasn't ready, not yet. He'd been doing his best to make sure he didn't run into her—which should have been easy enough, considering she worked in one of the many offices in the building that housed the Banners' practice rink. How many people worked in that building? Sixty? A hundred? Maybe more, he didn't know. And he never saw any of them, none of the players did.
And he had never expected to run into her here, at the arena after a game.
In the parking garage of the arena.
If he was smart, he'd let her go. Let her walk away, the same way he'd done that humid morning eight years ago on the sidewalk of his old condo.
The doors started their silent slide closed. Another second, maybe two, and she'd be gone, back on her way upstairs to the arena. Gone, just like that morning—
He spun around and grabbed the door with his hand, pushed it back open with a flick of his wrist then stepped into the elevator. Lori's eyes widened for a fraction of a second then quickly narrowed as she watched him.
"Forget something?"
"I—" He swallowed, heat filling his face once more under her narrowed gaze. He cleared his throat and looked away, shaking his head. "No."
She didn't say anything for a few long seconds that felt like a lifetime. Was that a small chuckle he heard? He wasn't sure, was afraid to face her to find out, afraid that maybe she was laughing at him. He waited for her to push one of the buttons but she didn't. The doors closed...but the elevator didn't move.
Game Misconduct_A Baltimore Banners Hockey Romance Page 1
