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

by Jami Davenport

  Sometimes Brick envied the relationship Ethan had with Lauren, not to mention his teammates with their women. Lately there’d been a string of bachelor-ending relationships. Coop and Izzy. Smooth and Bella. Ice and Avery.

  It was downright scary to a guy who’d sworn to stay single into his mid-thirties. Only, Brick had already settled down to a point. God, he hated those two words, but there it was. He’d been decidedly boring lately. The old Brick recoiled at the horror of it and plotted rebellion. Another abnormally loud part declared he was happier now that he wasn’t pursuing endless anonymous women and kegs of beer.

  Yet he’d been happy before, hadn’t he?

  Fuck yeah.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was his mother. Alarm sliced through him. His parents were in Europe somewhere. Something must have happened for them to be calling him. He scrambled up from the table and almost tipped over his chair, drawing sharp glances from the guys at the table.

  As he walked by, Matt watched him with concern. Brick ignored him and answered his phone, as he hurried to a more private area in the lobby.

  “Hey, Mom, is everything okay?”

  She laughed, sounding young and carefree. He immediately blew out a breath. “Of course. But Rick and I have been talking about you.”

  He braced himself. Nothing good ever came of his parents discussing him, his life, his anything.

  “We’ve been thinking about Macy. While we agree you’d make a fine single father eventually, those long road trips place a burden on your ability to do so, especially without a partner to pick up the slack during your absences. When we get back from this cruise, we’ll prepare the spare bedroom and welcome Macy with open arms into our home. We’re adjusting to the idea of having another little one in the house and looking forward to it.”

  Brick stared at the phone in stunned silence.

  “We know she cramps your style, and we want what’s best for the poor dear. We’ll take her in and raise her as our own. She’ll never have to worry about being shuttled around if you get traded or staying with almost-strangers when you’re on road trips.” His mother was picking up steam. She’d decided to do this, and the devil himself wouldn’t be able to dissuade her. Nor would Brick.

  Not that he should want to. He’d have his old life back. He’d be happy again doing the shit he loved to do. No more Barbies in his living room. No more pink invading his senses. No more reading bedtime stories and missing the nightly recap on the NHL channel.

  Everything would be as it was a few short months ago. He’d be back with his tribe where he belonged instead of floundering in this new world.

  His parents were giving him the gift of freedom for Christmas.

  “Brick? Did you hear me?” his mother asked.

  “Uh, yeah, I heard.”

  “Something’s wrong. I know you.”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Hey, I have to get back to the team. We’re having a late-night dinner. We can talk later about specifics when you get back. Enjoy your trip.”

  “We will. Love you, honey.”

  “Love you, too, Mom. Tell Rick hi.”

  “I will. He’s taking ballroom dancing lessons right now. I’d best get back to him.”

  She disconnected the call. For a long time, Brick sat in the corner and stared at the painting on the wall of a little girl with a dog. He’d never have the chance to get a Macy a dog for Christmas. He’d been batting that idea around for a week, discussing the pros and cons of certain breeds with his teammates until they ran when they saw him coming.

  With a sigh, he stood and returned to the group, who were now laughing uproariously at some story Rush was telling.

  Brick could have his life back in a few short weeks. Macy would be installed in a loving, stable home. Amelia would move on to another job, and he could go back to partying and screwing like a rock star. Yeah, he’d be free again. Just as he was meant to be. A rolling stone who hated moss. A man without a mission—other than the Cup.

  Matt slid a chair next to Brick, and a couple guys moved over to make room. He sat his beer on the table and glanced around. “You look fucking glum. Everything okay?”

  “Great, other than the guys trying to educate Flint on the finer aspects of charming a woman.”

  “Oh, women don’t like his one-liners? Can’t imagine why not.”

  “You have nice tits and I’d like to bury my face in them isn’t the best one-liner.”

  Matt chuckled. “He’s a hopeless cause. The guy was raised by Alaskan bush people or something.”

  “Yeah, he was.”

  Matt pointed his glass at Hot Rod. “He’s getting shit-faced.”

  The poor guy was into his sixth beer and showed no signs of slowing down. “Yeah, the bitch must have pulled another stunt.”

  “I’m sure of it.” Matt nodded solemnly. “I know how he feels.”

  “Rumor is she’s fucking someone in the organization.” Brick repeated what he’d overheard from a few of the staff last week.

  Matt narrowed his eyes. “Any idea who?” As one of the alternate captains, Matt took his job seriously. He tried to keep his eyes on his guys and head off any issues before they exploded.

  Brick shrugged. “Not sure. Someone who doesn’t travel with us. Knowing her, there’s probably more than one guy.” He snorted. “And at the same time.”

  “Don’t like her much?”

  “No, I don’t. Just about every guy on this team had been between her legs before she finally trapped that poor bastard with a false pregnancy.” Brick couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. No woman would do that to him.

  Matt shrugged. “Sometime next month, let’s take the kids to Zoolights. They’ll love it.”

  “December?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think that’ll work out. Macy’s going to live with my mother when they get back from their trip the first week of December.”

  Matt’s gaze said it all, making Brick feeling guilty and defensive.

  “It’s for the best,” Brick insisted.

  Matt sipped his beer and studied Brick over the rim.

  “She needs stability I can’t give her. My parents are great. They’ll do a better job raising her.”

  “You have to do what’s right,” Matt said finally. His disapproving frown nailed Brick squarely in the heart and drew blood. “Just remember, no one can take the place of a parent, and she’s lost too many people recently.”

  “My mom and stepdad will dote on her.”

  “That’s what grandparents do.”

  “Yeah.” He put his head in his hands and stared at nothing.

  “You don’t sound very thrilled at the prospect. If I had a little girl like that, I’d never let her go, but we’re not cut out of the same cloth.”

  “I guess we’re not.”

  “So your nanny’s available?”

  “Yeah, yeah, she is,” Brick said through clenched teeth.

  “Good. I could use a good nanny, as long as she doesn’t bring that friend of hers around. Hiring a nanny would get my mom out of my hair and my life, not to mention, Amelia is one hot lady. Let her know I’ll be calling her.” He winked at Brick.

  Brick wanted to slam his fist into the asshole’s face and tell him Amelia was off-limits.

  Matt shoved back his chair and got up. Taking his beer with him, he moved to the other table to sit with Coop and Smooth.

  Brick had been warned.

  * * * *

  By game time, Amelia was exhausted, and Macy was just getting revved up. She was bouncing off the walls and jumping on the furniture in her excitement to be going to a real hockey game. Unfortunately, Brick missed it all since he’d already left for the rink. Vi joined them, and they drove to the arena. Macy sang every song she knew—and some she didn’t—at full volume all the way there, turning a short trip into a long one.

  Vi widened her eyes and rubbed her temples, most likely regretting her decision to go with them. Vi was
n’t exactly a sports fan, but she’d agreed to go when Amelia begged her and promised she’d ply her with drinks during the game.

  Once they got to the arena, they used the VIP entrance Brick had told them to use. Amelia had opted for being on the glass rather than the suite where a lot of wives and girlfriends hung out. She didn’t consider herself a WAG, and Macy would get a kick out of the action on the ice anyway.

  They took their seats before the team took the ice. A young man dressed in a Sockeyes polo made his way down the row and handed each of them a Sockeyes jersey with Brick’s name and number on the back.

  “From Brick,” he said simply. He turned to Macy. “Happy birthday, this is for you.” He handed her a two foot tall green and blue fish pillow, a Sockeye. She hugged it to her.

  Before they could thank the staff person, he was gone.

  Amelia helped Macy into her little jersey and put on her own. “How cool is this?” she said to Vi, who was studying hers with narrowed eyes.

  “I have to wear this?” Vi held it up and inspected it.

  “No, but it was a thoughtful gift.”

  “Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” The man above them leaned down with his beer breath and leered at Vi. Her scathing scowl set him back in his seat, and he ignored them after that.

  With an indignant sniff, Vi put on the jersey. “Does it clash with my leggings?”

  “Does it matter?” Amelia laughed.

  “It looks awesome, Aunt Vi,” Macy added, using her seat as a pogo stick and clutching the fish. It was a good thing no one was seated behind her yet.

  Amelia’s gaze focused on the guys as they emerged from the bowels of the building. Brick had been the first one on the ice, sweat already trickling down his face. He swiped at his eyes with his shirtsleeve and glanced around. Seeing the three of them, he skated in slow easy strokes to where they sat. Grinning, he tapped the glass in front of them. Pausing in front of Amelia, he blew her a kiss. She grinned at him. He blew Macy one, too, and she beamed, waving the fish in the air. Brick did a graceful one-eighty before gliding effortlessly to his place near the net.

  Amelia eyed him in awe as he contorted his body in positions most yoga gurus couldn’t do minus his padding. She was impressed, though she’d seen signs of his flexibility on the TV and in the bedroom more than a time or two. Her face heated up at the memories, and other parts of her body sparked to life in abject reverence for his manly attributes and impressive flexibility.

  He’d revealed a little of himself the other night, telling her about his stepmother and his father’s betrayal, not only of his family, but of a boy who’d idolized his father. She understood how devastating it would be to discover someone close to you wasn’t the person they professed to be.

  Vi shot a glance at Amelia over Macy’s head, reading her mind, and winked. Despite being zeroed in on Brick, Amelia couldn’t help notice Vi’s own gaze following a certain player around the ice.

  “And here I thought you didn’t like him.”

  Vi startled. “Who?”

  “Matt. You’re salivating worse than a dog with a juicy bone.”

  “I bet he has a nice juicy bone,” Vi muttered absently.

  “What did you say?” Amelia asked innocently.

  “Matt doesn’t have a bone.” Macy squinted and pressed her face against the glass, trying to see if she’d missed something.

  Both women giggled.

  “Oh, my mistake, honey.” Vi ruffled her hair and received a glare from Macy, who didn’t like her hair messed with.

  “Everybody knows you can’t carry bones onto the ice. They would trip on it,” Macy added superiorly.

  “I guess we didn’t know. Thank you for telling us.” Amelia bit back a smile.

  “You’re welcome. My dad has a fish on his helmet.” She pointed toward Brick.

  Amelia forced herself not to react. She’d never heard Macy refer to Brick as her dad. “Yes, he does. That’s the team mascot.”

  “A fish? Like this one?” She pointed at her stuffed fish.

  “Yes. It’s a Sockeye, a salmon.”

  “Okay.” She frowned and stared hard at Brick. “I want to see his helmet. How come he doesn’t bring it home?”

  “Uh, you’d have to ask him.”

  The conversation continued like that for several minutes until the puck dropped and the game was on. Amelia didn’t have much to compare Brick’s performance to, but she didn’t need a baseline. Even a novice fan like her could tell his performance was outstanding. He blocked everything they shot at him using every body part at his disposal, including a butt block, which sent the crowd into a bigger frenzy than when Coop mixed it up with the Sharks captain over some slight she didn’t catch. The fight didn’t last long, and their two punches missed the mark. She suspected their “fight” was more about male posturing. Vi had leaped to her feet, yelling at the top of her lungs for Coop to hit the guy harder. Amelia couldn’t help looking at her with amazement. Vi was a pacifist, or so she’d thought. Following Vi’s lead, Macy had imitated her.

  Hockey was an odd sport, full of incredible feats of grace, power, and brutality on skates. She cringed every time any player was slammed into the boards and marveled at their ability to bounce back and skate off as if nothing had happened.

  These were tough guys—the toughest of the toughest in professional sports, at least from her limited point of view, and they did it all on skates. She gained a new respect for each of them.

  The crowd was rabid. She was glad they were on the glass, because the rambunctious Seattle fans rarely sat down when the puck was in play. If she attended again, they’d have to opt for the suite and coerce some unsuspecting wife or girlfriend to give them a crash course in hockey basics.

  Vi turned into a creature she didn’t know, getting into the game like a lifelong crazed fan.

  “I didn’t know you were into hockey,” she shouted over the crowd.

  Vi blinked at her as if getting her bearings. “Uh, yeah, I guess I am. There’s something about the raw bloodlust that appeals to my inner cavewoman. And, of course, the finesse they have handling the puck and skating,” she added as an afterthought.

  “Finesse my ass.” Amelia leaned over and said in her ear, “You just want all that energy and raw maleness bottled up into a hot night of sex.”

  “Quiet, the kid will hear you.”

  Amelia glanced down at Macy, who was standing with her hands pressed against the glass. “I doubt that.”

  “Okay, maybe not.” Vi’s gaze shifted back to the action. Matt had just bounded over the wall and onto the ice.

  Grinning, Amelia turned her attention to her goalie crouched down in front of the net. She might have to attend more games if they were this much fun.

  During the second intermission, the arena cameras focused on Macy with Happy Birthday, Macy flashing below her smiling face.

  “This is the best birthday ever,” She hugged her fish and stared in awe at her image on every screen in the arena.

  “It is,” Amelia agreed, hoping it would be the first of many they’d spend together.

  Chapter 16—Through the Pipes

  Brick sighed and sat up in bed. He needed to get some sleep before this insomnia affected his game. He glanced at Amelia looking so sweet and content as she reached for him in her sleep. Unable to find him, she hugged his pillow and sighed happily. He grinned, feeling on top of the world and his game.

  He was happy, too. For the first time in a long time, his happiness didn’t depend on my how many different women he’d banged that week, the points that had or hadn’t been scored against him, or the anticipation of the next party. He’d discovered something about himself.

  He was happy being with Amelia and Macy and a few close friends. Matt hung out more and more at the condo, or he hung out at Matt’s. The kids played relatively well together, with Macy being the boss, surprisingly. Then again, she was his daughter.

  He waited for the novelty of this new
life to wear off, for the feeling of claustrophobia to set in, along with a restless need to barhop or screw every female in sight. After all, he was a playboy, and eventually he would tire of this domestic game he’d been playing.

  But when?

  He’d been certain that without the partying he’d be lost and alone, but he’d been lonelier when he was partying. He didn’t need to be a partier to have friends. He just needed to be himself.

  Brick made an appointment later in the week to look at that houseboat, which appeared to be the closest he’d come to what he’d wanted, and he planned on taking Amelia and Macy with him. He needed a woman’s opinion on the interior and shit like that.

  Rolling to his feet, he stood and stretched, then walked to the door and out onto the deck. The night was cool, with wet mist clinging low to the ground and blocking any view more than a few blocks away. Brick leaned on the railing and stared out into the haze.

  He could change all this in an instant. Go back to the life he’d had and the man he’d been.

  Freedom was close enough to taste, only it didn’t taste like a warm chocolate brownie, it tasted almost…bitter—like crappy cough syrup. Maybe he didn’t want his freedom. Perhaps he was freer when he had people who cared for and depended on him? But that made no fucking sense. He’d never signed up for this, never wanted anyone to depend on him outside of his teammates. He’d always craved independence, no encumbrances, the ability to do as he pleased and answer to no one.

  His mother would come for Macy in a little more than a week and surround her with love, stability, and family. She’d want for nothing.

  Except a father?

  Being raised by doting grandparents would make up for his lack of involvement. He’d still spend a few weeks every summer with her, maybe take her to Disneyland or something.

  So why was he hesitating, if this was the best thing for everyone? What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He pounded his fist on the railing. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his short hair and rubbed a kink out of the back of his neck. He hadn’t wanted a child. Not now. Not when he was still in his twenties.