Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8)

by Jami Davenport

  “It is me.” Brick unsuccessfully tried to keep the disappointment from showing.

  “No, Brick, she’s just being a brat tonight.” Amelia was trying to make him feel better.

  “Sure.” He didn’t believe her for a second. He hadn’t been much of a father, so what did he expect?

  They talked for a few more minutes about school, hers and Macy’s, and the game, then Brick ran out of reasons to talk, but he didn’t want to hang up.

  “I should go. I need to get her ready for bed.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, then, good night.”

  “Good night.” The call ended and Brick shoved the phone in his pocket only to find Matt watching him.

  “Everything okay at home?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah, fine. I mean, as good as expected.”

  “Not so good then?” Matt read his mind. “Being a dad is the toughest job you’ll ever have, but it’s worth it ten times over.”

  “If you say so. We haven’t gotten to the worth-it part yet.” Brick hated how pouty he sounded.

  “You haven’t? What about skating with her a few days ago?”

  “Well, there’s that. I thought we had a breakthrough, but we didn’t.”

  “Kids are tough, and I suspect little girls are even tougher than boys,” Matt said.

  “If they’re anything like big girls, they have to be.” Brick ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with the entire situation but believing it was of his own creation—to a point.

  “No shit.” Matt chuckled. “Wanna get a burger and a beer when we get to the hotel?”

  Brick opened his mouth to accept, then snapped it shut. He was going out partying with the guys. “Sorry, already have plans. You wanna go?”

  “With Rush and crew?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nah, that’s not my scene. I’m not much of a partier.”

  Brick shrugged. “Have it your way.”

  A half hour later at the hotel, Brick changed into shorts, a tank, and flip-flops. He went downstairs to meet the guys. He saw Matt sitting in the bar with a burger. Hesitating, he waved at his buddies and went to join Matt.

  * * * *

  The team had a rare day off the following Sunday, and Amelia had planned an outing that included Brick and her, Macy, and Matt and sons. They were going to the Pacific Science Center.

  She readied everything while Brick slept in after a late flight from Boston. He’d arrived early this morning. He’d found her in his bed and wasted no time showing her how much he’d missed her. Or, at minimum, her body.

  This morning she managed to keep Macy somewhat quiet but was glad Brick was a sound sleeper. There was only so much coloring Macy would do before she got bored. Amelia took her for a walk down to the docks until it started raining. She was on her way back when she noticed Vi standing near the condo waiting for her.

  “Hey, princess, how’s it going?” Vi said.

  Macy ran to her and hugged her. “Aunt Vi! We’re going to do science today. Come with us.” She tugged on Vi’s hand.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun.” Over the top of Macy’s head, Vi rolled her eyes and mouthed not.

  Amelia wasn’t bailing her out. Not for one second.

  “Please go, please, please, please,” Macy begged.

  Vi sighed. “Okay. I’ll go, but only if we can get ice cream afterward.”

  “We will,” Macy promised with absolute confidence. “Won’t we, Meel?”

  “As long as Vi’s paying.”

  Vi shot her a death look, and Amelia grinned. Payback would be a bitch, but for now, she’d enjoy every minute of it.

  * * * *

  Brick scooted his chair closer to Amelia, his warm breath tickling her ear. She suppressed a shudder and adopted an air of casual interest in her surroundings while imagining doing the nasty with Brick in graphic detail. He ran his hand down her back and up again.

  “I had fun.” He grinned at her.

  “I did, too. So did the kids.”

  “Yeah.” He sounded wistful. Every time he’d tried to get close to Macy, she’d turned her back on him or given him short, one-word answers. She didn’t warm up to him at all, not the way she had Matt and Vi. The hurt in his eyes broke Amelia’s heart, even though he’d played a large part in putting it there. He was trying, and that counted for something in her book, even if it didn’t in Macy’s. The little girl was tough to crack, and with her background her reluctance was understandable.

  “Brick, have patience. It’s going to take time.”

  Skepticism clouded his dark eyes. “If you say so.”

  “I know so.” She wanted to take away his hurt. If they hadn’t been in public, she’d kiss the crap out of him until his knees buckled and they collapsed onto the first available semi-flat surface, arms, legs, and tongues entwined. Naked sweaty bodies sliding against each other. His moans music to her ears.

  “Amelia?”

  She blinked a few times and focused her gaze on his face. “Sorry.”

  He narrowed his eyes, assessing her, but not giving her any clue as to how that assessment turned out. “What’s up with those two?” He pointed to Matt and Vi, who’d been sparring with each other all afternoon, arguing about anything and everything.

  “They like each other.” Amelia bit into her pizza, while the kids had a lively debate on what toppings were best.

  “I don’t think so. Matt’s conservative. She’s obviously liberal. He plans everything down to the last second, and she flies by the seat of her pants. They’re totally incompatible.”

  “You think?” Amelia shrugged one shoulder. “Opposites attract.”

  “In this case, opposites murder each other. They’d never work out.”

  “Then they like disliking each other.”

  “That’s more like it, but all that bickering would get old after a while.”

  “Some people revel in that.”

  “I’m glad we’re not like that.” He reached for her hand and held it tight. His eyes met hers, and she dared not try to decipher what she saw for fear of being wrong.

  “Absolutely.” They smirked at each other, feeling mutually smug and superior, as if they had all the answers.

  He swallowed and held her hand a little tighter, glanced down and back up, as if he were nervous. “I have a two-game road trip on Wednesday and Thursday, then a Saturday home game. Would you like to bring Macy to the game?” He flickered his gaze to their combatant friends. “You can bring Vi, too, if you want.”

  Amelia didn’t know what to say. “Have you ever invited a woman to your games before?”

  “Not one who wasn’t related to me.” His face colored. He was so damned cute when he was embarrassed.

  “Macy would love that.” Amelia reminded herself he wasn’t really inviting her. He was inviting Macy, and they came as a package deal.

  “What about you? Would you love that? Are you a hockey fan?” He rubbed his thumb in circles over her palm. Good thing she was sitting down, because her legs couldn’t possibly hold her up.

  She forgot the question. “Huh?”

  “Do you like hockey?”

  She liked anything that involved watching him. She nodded slowly. “I’m only a casual fan. Don’t know much about it.”

  “You’ll be in a suite with several of the WAGs. They’ll help you out.”

  “WAGs?”

  “Wives and girlfriends.”

  “Oh, of course, duh.” Her knowledge of hockey was limited to knowing that the team who put the puck in the net the most times won the game.

  “So you’ll go?” Her attendance seemed to matter to him. She’d been wondering when he’d finally invite them to a game.

  “We’ll go.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Good. I like the idea of both of you being there.”

  Anyone watching them would assume they were a family.

  They were starting to feel like one.

  * * * *

  Shortly after Bri
ck discovered Macy’s mother’s name, Al showed up with Macy’s birth certificate, which named Brick as the father. Her birthday happened to be on Saturday, and the night they’d be going to the game. They’d celebrate with cake and presents afterward, but first Amelia needed to shop.

  Brick had tonight off, and he was going with her whether he liked it or not. Vi couldn’t babysit, but Rush volunteered, and they left the two of them watching a Disney movie, the picture of innocence, which couldn’t be further from the truth, especially for Rush.

  Brick took her to dinner at a nice little place on the water. It wasn’t elegant or expensive, but a cozy seafood restaurant. It should’ve been a romantic meal, and it was in a way, except Brick was preoccupied, most likely about the game coming up. The man did live and breathe hockey. As a neophyte she understood little; she could only guess how difficult his job was and what kind of a toll each game took on his mind and body, especially the tough losses. The Sockeyes had had very few of those so far this season. They were riding high and playing as if every night were the Stanley Cup.

  Brick wolfed down his food faster than she’d ever seen him. He put down his fork and stared pointedly at her plate.

  “You gonna finish that in the next century? We need to get going.”

  “Marty, we’ve only been here for about thirty minutes. We have plenty of time. Have you given any thought what you want to get her?”

  “No, I was leaving that up to you.”

  “She wants a pony.”

  “Fat chance that’ll happen. I might consider a dog, but I’ll probably save that for Christmas.” He fell silent as he impatiently tapped his fingers on the table. Amelia ate slowly, refusing to let him rush her, though he was taking the fun out this meal.

  She finished her shrimp and glanced up. He was ready to bolt from the table and signaled the waiter for the bill.

  “What is wrong with you? You’re as itchy as an old hound dog with fleas.”

  “I just want to get back home.” He checked his watch.

  Amelia laughed at him. “Are you nervous about something?”

  “Of course not. Just questioning my sanity for leaving Macy in the care of Rush. By the time we get home, he’ll probably be teaching her how to play poker or hustle at pool.”

  He was obsessing about Macy? Her heart cuddled right next to him, ready to make this man hers for as long as she could. For the hundredth time, he glanced at his phone, checking his text messages.

  “She’ll be fine. Rush is a good guy.”

  One skeptical brow rose as he wiped his forehead with a napkin. “You don’t know him like I do.”

  “It’s only for a few hours. What harm can he do?”

  “Ammie, you don’t know what harm Rush can do in five minutes. Let’s get the birthday shopping over with. I can’t imagine what more that child could possibly need.”

  Amelia laughed and grabbed for his hand as they walked outside into the dusky evening. Fog sat low on the water, and clouds were building up on the horizon.

  “It’s going to rain.”

  “Huge surprise.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He managed a smile and pulled her into his arms right there on the sidewalk. “Sorry I’m such a head case. I don’t like leaving her alone with anyone but you.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “You trust my judgment, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then trust me on this. Macy is perfectly safe with Rush. I’m certain of it.”

  “Okay,” he conceded. He lowered his head and took her mouth with a kiss of sweet possession and smoldering heat. She sighed happily and leaned into his strong body, losing herself in his pure maleness. Closing her eyes, she pretended he was hers and always would be.

  * * * *

  Brick flew up the stairs, ready to storm through his front door. The only time he hadn’t been riddled with fear and doubt was when he kissed Amelia on the sidewalk.

  Rush stopped answering his text messages halfway through the evening, and Brick couldn’t control his rising panic, even as Amelia laughed at him. He was almost frantic with worry. He pictured every horrid possibility known to man, a home invasion, a fire, and worst of all, Rush leaving her alone while he hooked up with a hot chick.

  “Brick.” Amelia’s laughter rang behind him, reminding him of the absurdity of his actions, but he didn’t care.

  Brick jammed the key in the lock, almost bending it, and wrenched open the door. It slammed against the wall, reverberating through the entire living area. He paused to catch his breath and ease the agitated pounding of his heart. Amelia, her face flushed from running to keep up with him, rubbed his arm, calming him slightly.

  “See? Everything’s fine.” Laughter floated into the entryway from the living room.

  Sheepishly, he strolled into the living room and stopped. The sack he carried dropped from his hand and hit the floor. Gathered around his dining room table were Rush, Drew, and Jasper playing Candy Land with Macy.

  Rush was currently accusing Drew of cheating by miscounting the spaces and thereby skipping past the candy cane, which would’ve sent him back a zillion places.

  “You flipping cheated. You vere on the green space,” Rush said.

  “I was on the yellow space,” Drew shot back.

  They both turned to Macy, who regarded them with the stern demeanor of a trial judge. “Vhat do you think, Mace?” Rush asked.

  Macy placed her index finger on her lower lip and studied the board with absolute seriousness. “He was on the yellow space.”

  “Yeah!” Drew pumped his fist in the air, Jasper snorted with laughter, and Rush sulked, mumbling Russian curses no one else understood.

  “Hey,” Brick said casually, despite the thumping of his heart and his shortness of breath. He was winded from running up the stairs, that was all.

  The guys barely nodded at him, so engrossed in the game they were playing.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Brick tried again.

  “What does it look like?” Drew shot back while Brick’s other teammates ignored him, concentrating on the board with an intensity they usually reserved for a high-stakes poker in someone’s hotel room after an away game.

  “I know what you’re doing, but what are you doing?” Brick demanded.

  “Hey, you won’t party with us anymore, so we brought the party here,” Drew said.

  “Macy’s kicking our a—butts,” Jasper added with a wry grin. He picked up his bottle of juice and took a swig.

  “I am,” Macy declared proudly. “They suck.”

  “We couldn’t convince her to play poker or blackjack,” Jasper added with a shrug. He wore a pink Barbie scarf around his neck, and he wore it well.

  “Nice touch.” Brick gave the scarf a tug.

  “He has to give it back.” Macy leveled a glare at Jasper.

  “She has you pegged.” Rush laughed.

  Jasper’s gaze strayed to Amelia. “Hey, Amelia, gorgeous, wanna sit on my lap?” He reached out for her, and she swatted his hand.

  “No, she does not,” Brick growled, his gaze menacing as he glared at his buddy. Jasper snorted, having discovered Brick’s soft spot. He’d go for the jugular next chance he got, because that’s what he did—what the entire team did. They never gave one another any breaks, and they never backed down. Brick would have done the same in their position.

  He moved to Amelia’s side and put a possessive arm around her waist, staking his claim for all to see.

  Chapter 15—Goalie Man

  A few nights later, Brick played like a man possessed. He blocked shots no mortal being should be able to block. He saw the puck before the skater even took the shot. He’d never been in the zone for this many games. He tried not to think ahead to what might happen when the spell broke and he became a mere mortal again with no magical puck-blocking powers. Perhaps it wouldn’t happen as long as he had his secret weapons—Macy and Amelia.

  For now, he enjoyed his good fortune and wall
owed in his team’s winning streak. None of his teammates or coaches brought up the streak or Brick’s incredible stats for fear of jinxing the entire team.

  Brick sat in the hotel bar after the first game of the two-game road trip and sipped a beer, his first and only beer of the night. Rush shot puzzled glances his way. Brick couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know who he was anymore. How could Rush?

  He reached for a handful of nachos and stuffed them in his mouth, barely listening to the lighthearted banter going on around him. Smooth was trying to teach Jasper the finer points of hustling women, even though Smooth’s woman-hunting days were long over. The kid didn’t get it. Rush inserted his own suggestions. Sadly, their pupil was the clueless caveman type, but it’d worked for him. He wasn’t lacking for female companionship. Normally, Brick would be adding his two cents, but tonight he was content to observe.

  The rookie, Gage “Ziggy” Ziegler, had turned twenty-one over the weekend and was making up for lost time. The kid had a platinum constitution. Despite his countless next-day hangovers, as soon as he stepped onto the ice, he turned into a child protégé. Okay, not quite a child, he was hardly a child, but Brick liked to give him shit about his baby face.

  Ethan and Lauren joined them, and the conversation turned to less-raunchy topics, such as the team’s early competition for the Cup. Ethan’s eyes lit up with the same excitement a kid shows on Christmas day when he finds a pony under the tree.

  Brick wanted to win the Cup for Ethan almost as much as he did for his teammates and himself. Ethan had gone through a lot to bring a team to Seattle. He was passionate about hockey, but also a ruthless businessman who was slowly building a hockey dynasty to rival some of the old guard back east. Ethan believed in progressive statistics, which measured things the hockey good ol’ boys previously ignored. Despite his obsession with details, Ethan was a big-picture guy, thinking beyond this year, and only he knew how far into the future.

  Lauren, his wife, was assistant director of player personnel, and the producer of many of those detailed hockey stats. Her father had been a legendary player and one of the Sockeyes’ top scouts. Lauren had been an excellent college player even though she’d been lost in the shadow of her brothers’ hockey careers. She was American hockey royalty, and Ethan’s partner in all things.