Angels and Assists

by Mignon Mykel

  “Yeah. You and Jonny.”

  “I could talk her into taking you on as a client.”

  “I like my agent.” He always had my best interest at hand. When it came time to renew my contract, I didn’t want to fight for millions, but I did want to stay with the Enforcers. San Diego, these men…this was home.

  I grew up in a backwoods town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and while, yeah, it was nice to go home and be with family…

  I liked the West coast.

  “Yeah, Cord’s a good guy. Not like Mark.”

  I hated to be the pointer-outer of the obvious but, “If it weren’t for his ignoring your media clause, you would not have met your wife.”

  It wasn’t intentional, but Mark knew Caleb wasn’t the hockey player who wanted to be the face gracing media. But one day, a little redhead domino named Sydney contacted him about a dating show and rather than dealing with it himself—as an agent ought to do—Mark gave her Caleb’s direct number.

  They met.

  And the rest was history.

  There was no one for Caleb after meeting Sydney.

  According to Caleb though, the only reason why he didn’t drop Mark then was because he knew Avery was going to be a great agent and he wanted to support her.

  “Besides,” I added, “she’ll be too fucking busy with Ports.” Porter was Caleb’s youngest sibling, the baby of the group—and they were a freaking group, the six of them. Porter, like Caleb and Jonny, played professionally but way out in B.F.N.

  Okay, okay, for the Charleston Rockets, out in South Carolina.

  Still, though, I’d heard horror stories of that kid and the antics he pulled growing up.

  We entered the player’s garage and the sound of Caleb’s truck roaring to life filled the concrete surroundings.

  “Dude, it’s not even cold out,” I said, in response to his remote start.

  “Gotta get her warmed up. Her engine likes it.” Caleb winked in my direction and I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head.

  “Does your wife know you talk like that? That you love your truck more than her?”

  “Chief knows she’s my number one.” Chief was Sydney, not the truck. Not that I would put it past Caleb to name his truck.

  “And she knows my mouth and the words that come out of it damn well. Real damn well,” he added with a smirk.

  “You’re a dirty fuck,” I chuckled.

  Caleb didn’t answer, just mmm-ed behind his lips.

  Way too much information.

  And maybe just enough information that left me envious of the guy. In the nine-plus years I’d known Caleb, he’d been with Sydney for most of them. I teased him once that I had met her first, but he was always quick to come back that if I hadn’t flashed her my toothless smile, maybe she would have been interested in me.

  Never mind the fact that the only reason why she’d come around was to recruit Caleb for the dating show.

  I hadn’t stood a chance.

  Shit, Caleb really hadn’t either, not with how it was supposed to go down, but in the end, it was Sydney he ended up with. She even managed to keep her job as a casting assistant. Now, she was casting all the big shows—and, as much as she grumbled, her best ones were all reality ones.

  Hell, I didn’t watch much television, let alone reality television, but I made time for the ones my buddy’s wife was part of.

  In the time I’d known him, Caleb met Sydney, married Sydney, and had her popping out babies left and right. In the beginning, it was funny to watch—Caleb at twenty-five and juggling his first son. Caleb at twenty-seven and his second son.

  It was when his daughter was born the following year that the envy started to sink in.

  Here I was, in a mix of meaningless relationships—or even relationships that seemed to be going somewhere, only for her to back out—and there he was, having a family and living the life.

  “Saturday still stands,” Caleb said, breaking away from me as we got to a split in the cars. “See you tomorrow.”

  By the time Saturday rolled around, I was itching to get out of my place.

  We won both our games during the week—further solidifying our seat in the upcoming playoffs—and after a light practice Saturday morning, I ended up caving and telling Caleb I’d be coming over.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d been to his place when his entire family was over, but the energy never failed to surprise me. Caleb came from a big family so when I looked at his own brood of four kids, it made sense, but being in the house with his siblings and then his own family…it got loud.

  In the driveway of Caleb and Sydney’s beachy house was a twelve-passenger van.

  I literally laughed out loud when I saw the silver monstrosity. Knowing Caleb’s family as I did, I wouldn’t put it past his dad to have rented it just for the groan factor.

  I parked my truck beside the beast and walked into the house through the garage, a bunch of flowers in hand for Avery, and, after walking through their laundry/mud room, entered the open space that made up the living room and kitchen. Throughout the area, were Caleb, Sydney, and their four kids; Caleb’s parents, Ryleigh and Noah, who was essentially the beginning of the Prescott-Enforcers empire; Caleb’s oldest sister, Mykaela—who was a hockey legend in her own right, having recently started putting the wheels in motion for a woman’s National Hockey Club in the Midwest; Caleb’s youngest sister, Avery, the woman of the hour; and Caleb’s other sister, McKenna, with her husband and his daughter. Also in attendance, was Caleb’s brother, and the Enforcers’ goaltender, Jonny, with his wife Jenna, who was talking to some girl I didn’t know. I’d been half-expecting to see Porter, too, failing to remember, again, that the kid was old enough to play professionally.

  Damn. Knowing Porter was playing pro had a way of making a guy feel old. I met him when he was thirteen.

  After my small moment of taking everyone in, I walked across the room and handed Avery the bouquet of lilies. “Congrats, kid.”

  Caleb’s baby sister smiled up at me, accepting the flowers. “Thanks, Trev. You know I’m coming after you next, right? My brothers have already agreed to sign once I find a company.”

  I chuckled at the girl’s balls. “And you know I like my agent.”

  “I’ll convince you.” Avery nodded, sure of herself—as she should be. She knew the athletic life, the pros and cons of the business, as well as her brothers did. “Give me some time, but I’ll convince you.”

  The thing was—I didn’t doubt it.

  I looked toward the kitchen to see if Caleb was through with his conversation with Jonny, but it didn’t look to be. “Where’s your friend?” I asked Avery instead.

  “Asher?”

  I nodded. I didn’t know the logistics of it, but Asher ended up in the Prescott fold at the beginning of the season and what at first seemed to be a few-week thing, turned into something more. The girl had no history, from what Caleb told me, but their mom took her under her wing like a stray kitten.

  “In South Carolina.”

  I lifted my brows, fighting a grin even though part of me was once again kicking myself. “With Porter?” How the hell did the kid get a girl, and I was still floundering between relationships?

  Avery nodded, smiling. “They’re kind of cute.”

  With that look on her face, I would guess she had a heavy hand in it all. “How much was your doing?”

  “This trip, nothing. But maybe a few months ago…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes did the same. Then, she was facing me again, her voice low, to not be overheard. “Jenna brought her sister.”

  I lowered my voice too, in an exaggerated whisper, as I bent toward her. “I didn’t know she had a sister.” God, Jenna’s parents should have stopped with one kid. Jenna was materialistic. Everything was about show. Money. Whether or not she’d be noticed…

  Her parents weren’t much different. They weren’t exactly the type of people you wanted running the world.

  “Caleb wan
ts to set you up.”

  I frowned, straightening to a stand. “He does not.” My voice wasn’t lowered this time, and Avery tugged at my arm, bringing me back down.

  “Shh! Keep your voice down.”

  “Ace, Caleb isn’t you. Shit, thirty-some-year-old men don’t ‘set up’ their friends at a family get-together.”

  “Keywords, Trev. Family. Get. To. Gether.” She straightened and tilted her blonde head to the side. “Why’d he invite you?”

  “Because we’re…hockey family.” Lame.

  “Trust me on this.”

  I straightened once more and looked back toward the kitchen. Caleb was no longer talking to Jonny and he waved me over, his eyes flashing to his right quickly, where the girl and Jenna were talking.

  The girl must be the sister.

  She was cute. White-blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. Tiny body. That was the most that I could make out from over here, other than one additional fact. “She’s a freaking child,” I muttered.

  She couldn’t be much older than Avery, who just happened to be damn-about ten years younger than me.

  Okay, maybe only eight, but fuck.

  Jenna’s sister was way too young. What the hell was Caleb thinking?

  I realized Avery was laughing. “You’re really loud.”

  To prove just that, the girl looked in my direction.

  And her cheeks flamed red.

  Fuck me.

  From across the room, I could see that eyes were a lighter color—I couldn’t make out the exact color from here—but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were some shade of blue. She looked a lot like Jenna but…

  …Sweeter.

  If the word could even be applied to a family member of Jenna’s.

  I turned my back to the girl, trying to get the look of her shock and embarrassment from my mind, and instead face Avery. “I thought we didn’t like Jenna,” I said, my voice once again low.

  It wasn’t exactly a secret that Jenna Prescott had very few fans in this room. She was here because she was “family.” The Prescotts accepted her well enough, but by her own doing, Jenna distanced herself. The entire time I’d known the Prescotts, Jenna was attached to Jonny, but according to Caleb, Jonny had been a completely different guy before he met, dated, and, eventually, married Jenna.

  Avery flattened her hand against my chest, tapping twice with a quick grin. “She’s not Jenna.”

  Callie

  I don’t really know how I got roped into coming to Jenna’s in-laws’ place.

  I knew Jonny’s family…okay…but I certainly didn’t belong at a gathering celebrating the youngest daughter’s graduation.

  I crossed my arms uncomfortably as I stood in the corner of the kitchen, looking around. Jenna and Jonny—my brother-in-law—just left me standing here. One minute, Jenna was talking to me, and the next, she snapped at Jonny, and they were leaving the room.

  I tightened my crossed arms and fought a sigh by puffing out my cheeks. Caleb and Sydney Prescott, the hosts and owners of this very beautiful, yet modest—something my sister and brother-in-law didn’t know a thing about—home, were pulled apart and talking to different people. I knew Caleb’s parents, but they were sitting on the living room floor, playing with their youngest grandkids, Brody—who was one and looked just like his older brothers with dark eyes and bright eyes—and Brielle—who at three, may have been one of the prettiest toddlers I’d ever seen. She had her mom’s red hair and a bubbly personality that only little girls managed to encompass.

  I turned toward the counter I was leaning on, trying to find something to do.

  Shoot, let’s be honest, here. Something to eat.

  I could pass time by eating.

  Who the heck knew when Jenna and Jonny would be done doing whatever the heck they were doing, and be willing to take me home. I was supposed to be spending the day with Jenna, planning our parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary. It was the only reason I’d even gone to Jenna’s.

  But my sister literally pushed me back into the elevator of the giant glass building their condo lived in, and said, “We’re sending them on a trip to Bora Bora. You owe me five thousand dollars.” I’d hardly had the chance to swallow my uprising panic at the dollar signs and she was telling me about going to Jonny’s brother’s house for something or another.

  Essentially, she was holding me hostage.

  She knew if I’d been ‘set free,’ I’d have come up with something else for our parents’ anniversary. I knew how Jenna operated. She’d probably just sent off an email to her travel agent when I showed up, and until she knew the plans were in place, she needed me nearby so I couldn’t go and derail her plans.

  The five-thousand-dollar neon lights flashed in my mind, and I had to fight back the uprising bile.

  I didn’t even go on vacations for myself at that price tag.

  Yes, I had a safety net in the bank. But every time it grew over my three-month living budget, I donated it in some fashion—either by direct-check to a charity I believed in, or by finding a mission to fund.

  That said, I was currently sitting under my safety net, and five-thousand for an extravagant trip that my parents would no doubt love…

  It was going to send me into a panic attack.

  I looked down the counter at the food set out. A Prescott party was so unlike a MacTavish one.

  Parties at my parents’ had champagne fountains and miles of fondue, with caviar and calamari and lobster topping the menu.

  There wasn’t bacon-wrapped mini-wienies simmering in barbeque sauce, or homemade Chex mix, or cookies that were most definitely decorated by the ten and under crowd.

  I uncrossed an arm to reach for one of said cookies, a circle the looked like it’d had a graduation cap piped onto it, that was filled and decorated in the fashion of a certain Brielle Prescott, if the drawings on the fridge were any indication.

  But before I could grab it, it was snatched up quickly from under my nose.

  I puffed my breath into my upper lip and changed direction, grabbing a plain, undecorated cookie, before looking up at the stealer of the cookie.

  I was expecting Caleb’s dad. Or even Caleb himself.

  He was neither.

  Instead, it was the man who had only an hour ago, called me a child.

  I gritted my teeth but refused to appear effected by this…this…monstrosity of a man.

  My brother-in-law and the men in his family were all tall, easily over six-foot, but this guy wasn’t as tall as them. Maybe only five-eleven.

  And he wasn’t as lean as the others.

  His neck was wide, his shoulders bold.

  And his forearms…

  I swallowed hard—the guy was serious eye candy in the arm department alone—and brought my eyes up to his.

  They were gray. Or maybe just a super light blue.

  Then he flashed a crooked smile that showed off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. The smile pulled the skin taut on his chin, which brought my attention to a thin, puckered line.

  A scar.

  “You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

  Shoot me now. Even his voice was sexy.

  Deep and rumbly, like Sam Worthington when he tried to pull off an American accent.

  I forced a smile and waved toward him with my cookie. “Being held hostage. I don’t really belong.”

  He bit down on the cookie I was supposed to be eating, as he nodded. “Yeah.” He swallowed what was in his mouth. “At least you’re family. In a sense.”

  I was generally a kind person, but his earlier comment wouldn’t stop bouncing around in my head. So, with a frown, I decided to ask, “Why are we doing this? I mean, I am just a child.” Oh, how quickly I found myself on a roll. I put my cookie back down on the counter, untouched, and held up my finger. “For the record, I’m twenty-two. Legal on all fronts.”

  His eyes dropped down to my waist and traveled back upward, slowly. When his eyes finally met mine again, he had
a smirk on his face and maybe a slight redness to his cheeks. “Still too young.”

  “For what?” I shook my head. “Never mind.” I grabbed my cookie and mumbled to myself, “Shit, where’s Jenna? Fuck it, I’ll just get an Uber.” I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t a Prescott. And for that matter, the Prescotts didn’t much care for my sister, which made my being here even more uncomfortable.

  “Waitwaitwait.” Then his big paw of a hand was on my forearm and I startled. There was an odd sort of zing that went through me and I had to fight from jerking my arm back from him.

  Instead, I stared at his large, sun-darkened hand on my lighter skin. When his thumb brushed gently along my arm, I sucked in a breath before looking up at him, tightening my lips.

  And swallowing hard.

  “I’m Trevor.” He paused before adding, “Winski.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “And you are…?”

  Still, I remained quiet.

  He lifted a brow, which revealed another scar on his forehead, this one in an L shape.

  “I’m sorry?” he tried again.

  Quiet.

  “Caleb’s sister told me he was trying to set me up with you. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I’m sorry.”

  It was hard to stay indifferent at that because that was just ludicrous. “He did not.” Caleb hardly knew me and it hadn’t exactly been Jonny dragging me along to this house party.

  “According to Avery…”

  His hand on my skin was making me uncomfortable.

  Okay, maybe uncomfortable was the wrong word. That energy was still zipping through me and it was unsettling.

  Yes.

  Unsettling was a better word.

  “I’m being held hostage by Jenna,” I finally stated, pulling my arm away. The loss of his hand didn’t do much for the energy though. Instead, the large span of skin where his hand had been, tingled. I shook my arm discreetly before crossing my arms over my chest.

  Once again, curling in on myself, still uncomfortable with being in this home with people who didn’t really know me, yet managed to dislike me because they disliked my sister.