A Perfect Distraction

by Anna Sugden

  “You guys coming or what?”

  Maggie voted for “or what.” But her blood was already beginning to cool, her pulse to settle. She drew away from Jake and instantly regretted it.

  “We’ll see you in a few, bro.” He hung up, the flames in his eyes banked. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure. I’m starving.” She flushed.

  “Me, too,” he said softly.

  For a moment, they stood there, gazes locked. If he’d made even the slightest move toward her, she knew she’d have been lost. And they’d have been very late joining the team.

  Instead, he opened the door of the suite. As she walked past, he murmured, “Later.”

  She couldn’t wait.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “ARE YOU sure I don’t know you?”

  Juergen’s question made Maggie uncomfortable. She’d like to hold on to the anonymity for a little longer. He’d work out where he’d seen her sooner or later; most Europeans followed football and recognized the well-known players, as well as the WAGs. Even if Juergen was too polite to ask questions, she could do without the pity she’d see in his eyes.

  “I must have a familiar face.” She shrugged, hoping he’d drop the subject.

  “Those eyes, the cheekbones.” Vlad grinned. “Her face isn’t common, is it, Bad Boy?”

  “Definitely unique.” Jake leaned closer. “Uniquely beautiful.”

  Unfamiliar with compliments, she wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully, the food arrived, distracting the hungry players.

  Talk turned to hockey: scores from the other games, rumors and gossip. No one seemed upset by the evening’s loss.

  “Preseason games don’t count,” Jake explained. “They’re a chance to see how the team’s shaping up, how the young players might fit within the setup.”

  “Like a ‘friendly’?”

  Ike grabbed a burrito. “Right. The regular season starts in October.”

  “Are you coming to opening night?” Tru asked.

  That was still a few weeks away. Much as she’d like to see Jake in action, who knew how things would work out between them? Would he even ask her? “I’m not sure.”

  “Maggie’s not convinced yet that hockey is the greatest sport in the world.” Jake smiled indulgently. “I’m still working on her.”

  “Come to more games and you’ll be sure,” Vlad stated confidently.

  “We’ll see.” She wouldn’t let herself be drawn further.

  As the bantering conversation continued around her, Maggie settled back, enjoying the comfortable weight of Jake’s arm across her shoulders.

  His thigh brushed against hers. Her pulse skipped, then raced.

  Comfort became something else. Something hotter, building on the need that had simmered within since that kiss. Desire danced through her, making her core ache and throb with moist heat.

  Jake’s teasing smile died.

  Her tongue slipped out to moisten her parched lips. She could still taste him, just a hint. She wanted to taste him again.

  He leaned closer. His fingers caressed her shoulder, stoking the fire within.

  She edged toward him, her lips parting in anticipation.

  “Hello, gentlemen.” A throaty voice curled around them, like the tendrils of smoke from a vamp’s cigarette in a film noir.

  Maggie recognized the blonde—Jenny, queen of the puck bunnies. The players welcomed her with enthusiasm as she walked around the table greeting them.

  “Ice Man. Chance. Blade.” Each name was accompanied by a touch, a brush against a shoulder, a tap on the arm. “Mad Dog.”

  Vlad grinned as she reached him. “Remember me, Jenny?”

  “Detroit. The natural hat trick.” Her eyes twinkled. “You scored the overtime winner with fourteen seconds left.”

  “A memorable night.” From the Russian’s tone, he didn’t mean the goal.

  Jenny laughed. She trailed a French-tipped finger along his shoulder, then moved on. “Juergen Ingemar. I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  “We must put that right.” He wasn’t talking about hockey, either.

  The woman was amazingly self-confident. She spoke easily to the players, alternately teasing and flirting. How would she treat Jake with Maggie there?

  Maggie’s stomach gave a little twist. She told herself not to be silly. It’s not like there was anything between her and Jake. Yet.

  Jenny dropped a kiss on Ike’s head. “You dropped too early on that wrister.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “I thought he was going five-hole.”

  “Portnoy can’t get his shot off quickly enough to get it through your legs. He always roofs it.”

  Ike tilted his head. “Really?”

  “Watch game tape.” There was her supreme confidence again.

  “I will. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Truman.” Clipped, cold. Dismissive.

  Maggie was surprised when Jenny moved past Tru with no smile, touch or banter.

  “Jenny.” The easygoing man shifted in his seat, his attention focused with rigid determination on the burrito platter.

  “I hear you’re starting next game, Bad Boy.” The blonde grinned at Jake.

  Maggie was relieved to see he greeted Jenny like the old friend he’d said she was.

  “Yeah. I need ice time before the season starts.” He then introduced Maggie to Jenny.

  She braced herself, but instead of antagonism in the blonde’s eyes, there was only mild curiosity. And recognition.

  Maggie stiffened.

  “Nice to meet you.” The blonde smiled. “Hope Bad Boy’s treating you right.”

  “So far, so good.”

  “If he misbehaves, I’ve got blackmail info that’ll get him back in line.”

  “You’re on.” Maggie grinned.

  “You’re not supposed to gang up on me,” Jake grumbled.

  “We girls always stick together.” Jenny slid a chair in beside Maggie.

  As the conversation around them returned to hockey, the two women chatted. It didn’t take long for Maggie to discover that she liked the blonde. Jenny seemed different from the hard-edged groupies who’d hung around Lee. She sensed a deeper story lay behind the woman’s actions.

  “So you were married to that jerk of a soccer player,” Jenny said quietly.

  “You know who I am,” she said flatly.

  “I didn’t recognize you at first. The hair and everything.” She waved a hand at Maggie’s outfit. “I’m a sucker for gossip magazines, and the English ones are more lurid than ours.”

  Maggie softened at the blonde’s self-deprecating smile. “As long as they’re not writing about me, I can’t resist them, either.”

  Jenny touched her arm. “It took a lot of courage to leave that bastard. Believe me, I know all about abusive bullies. I really wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine when I saw those pictures of you leaving hospital—the bruises, the stitches and your arm in a cast.”

  “Thank you.” Maggie’s eyes stung at the unexpected support.

  “I cheered the day your divorce was final. I loved that photo of you on the steps outside the court.” Jenny grinned. “Great shoes.” Her grin faded. “I pity your ex’s new girlfriend, now he’s got that hamstring problem.”

  An involuntary shudder rippled through Maggie as memories of other times Lee had been injured flashed through her head. The drinking, the shouting. The hitting. She was glad she and Emily were out of reach. “I hope she realizes her mistake more quickly than I did. I wouldn’t wish what I suffered on my worst enemy.”

  Jenny’s smile had a cynical twist. “Doesn’t look like it. In her last interview, she said she was keen to settle down with him and start a family.�
�

  Though Maggie was pleased Lee had a woman to occupy his attention, the information made her nervous. When he’d been playing the field, he couldn’t have cared less about seeing Emily. What if his girlfriend changed his mind? Maggie swallowed a knot of dread. She had to keep Lee away from Emily.

  “Hey, Jenny, what did you think of my game tonight?” Jean-Baptiste challenged, frustration in his dark eyes.

  The table went quiet.

  The only outward sign of Jenny’s tension was a fractional narrowing of her eyes. “Not bad, but your shot is unpredictable. You should check your blade. A touch too much curve.”

  Larocque clenched his jaw. “Yeah, sure.”

  “If Jenny says to check your blade, then check your damn blade,” Tru growled.

  JB said nothing for a moment, then mumbled, “Okay.”

  Maggie’s stomach twisted as he glared belligerently at Jenny and tossed back a whiskey. His actions were scarily familiar. She knew how dangerous a temperamental athlete became when he’d been embarrassed.

  Jenny ignored him. She turned to Maggie and began discussing the latest celebrity gossip. Gradually, the tension eased.

  As the meal drew to a close, several players left for a local club.

  “We should have lunch sometime.” Jenny stood.

  “I’d like that.” Maggie scrawled her numbers on a napkin. “Give me a call.”

  Jenny nodded and smiled, then made her way toward Juergen.

  Larocque leaped to his feet. “You should be with me tonight,” he snarled.

  Jenny’s back snapped straight. “Excuse me?”

  “I had a goal and an assist—I deserve to have you.” The arrogant rookie swaggered toward her.

  “I decide who deserves to have me.” Frost coated Jenny’s words. “It sure as hell won’t be a half-assed kid who gave up three turnovers, made five poor decisions in key scoring situations and took a dumb penalty which led to a goal.” She turned on her heel and left.

  Juergen followed, glowering at Larocque. Jean-Baptiste stormed out, swearing.

  “That boy’s a real wild card.” Ike shook his head.

  “He pulls something like that again and I’ll take him out,” Tru said through gritted teeth.

  The weird ending put a damper on the evening.

  Jake apologized as he drove her back to Tracy’s house. “The kid’s a jerk.”

  “I’m sure he’ll settle down. He’s just trying to establish himself.” She didn’t know why she was defending Larocque, especially when he reminded her uncomfortably of Lee. But she’d sensed vulnerability beneath the bravado.

  “The wrong damn way. You never do anything to hurt the team.”

  She touched his arm. “You could keep an eye on him.”

  “I’m the last person who should be babysitting a troubled kid,” he snapped, then fixed his attention on the road. From his set jaw, it was clear the subject was closed.

  Startled by his abrupt attitude change, Maggie said nothing for a few minutes. Where had that come from?

  Finally, she broke the tense silence. “I liked Jenny.”

  “She’s great. Got an amazing head for hockey.” Warm affection softened his voice. “She played for a few years—was better than all of us—but gave it up to look after her sister.”

  Maggie recalled Jenny’s reference to escaping abuse. Hopefully, someday, her new friend would trust her enough to share her story.

  Jake shared stories of growing up with Jenny until he pulled into Tracy’s driveway.

  When he opened her door, she stepped out of the car and into the circle of his arms. Her heart skipped a beat then began to dance.

  His voice was a husky murmur. “Have I convinced you to spend more time with me?”

  “Do you mean a real date?” Her gaze focused on lips so tantalizingly close to hers.

  “A date. Another game. Whatever.” His head dipped.

  “Um...I suppose so.” Her teasing words sounded breathy.

  “Perhaps I can persuade you to make that a definite yes.” Jake brushed his lips against hers. Once, twice, three times. Sweet, featherlike touches.

  Each sent a fiery trail burning through her body, making her yearn and ache.

  “Still not sure,” she managed to whisper.

  This kiss wasn’t sweet or gentle. It was spicy and seductive. Hot and hard.

  Bad Boy could be very persuasive indeed.

  * * *

  RUNNING PAST A girl’s house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her during his morning workout, was pathetic. That’s what teenagers did, not professional hockey players.

  What had possessed Jake to change his usual route? He must be nuts, he thought as he turned down the leafy avenue of Victorians.

  He hadn’t been able to see Maggie since the postgame dinner last week, but she’d been in his thoughts constantly. That last scorcher of a kiss had started fires burning he’d yet to extinguish. And still had the power to make him hard.

  Not ideal while running.

  The house was up ahead. Feeling foolish, he picked up his pace to sprint past.

  “Mr. Jake!” Emily charged down the front steps.

  He slowed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his T-shirt, and tried to look casual. “Hey, Princess. What’s up?”

  “Mummy’s cooking.” She made it sound like a treat. “She’s making Bendy Eggs.”

  Bendy? “Sounds good.”

  “They’re yummy. You should have some.” She bounced in her bright pink sneakers.

  He hesitated. Tempting, but was a cozy breakfast with Maggie’s family smart? He generally avoided anything that gave his dates ideas about commitment. Then again, he’d already spent time with Maggie and her family.

  He went for the cautious play. “Thanks, but I have to get home. I’m off to Long Island later, for tomorrow’s game.”

  “Are you playing?”

  He nodded.

  His first game back. An important milestone. The final stage of his recovery.

  “Can I watch?”

  “You’ll have to check with your mom.”

  A determined glint lit her eyes. “I could ask while you’re having breakfast with us.”

  Persistent imp.

  Maggie opened the screen door. “Is your room tidy, Emily Marie? Remember, no Bendy Eggs until it is.”

  “Oops.” Emily headed toward the steps. “Can Mr. Jake have breakfast with us?”

  Maggie came out onto the front porch. “Good morning.”

  He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at her and those gorgeous legs showcased in khaki shorts. “I hope I didn’t keep you out too late the other night.”

  “Not at all.”

  Their gazes met and held. The memory of their kiss hovered between them.

  Amber fire smoldered in her dark eyes. He wondered how high he could make those flames leap if he kissed her again.

  “Can he, Mummy?” Emily’s voice was like a spray of ice.

  He turned slightly, hoping to mask the erection his shorts couldn’t hide.

  Maggie bit her lip as if hiding a smile. Luckily, her daughter wasn’t as observant.

  “Mum-my!” Emily insisted.

  The smile broke free. “It’s nothing gourmet, but you’re welcome to join us.”

  He basked in the warmth of her smile. Where was the harm in joining her...them...for a home-cooked breakfast?

  “Sounds good.” He grimaced. “I can’t come in like this.”

  “You have plenty of time to get cleaned up. Someone has a job to do.” She gave her daughter a pointed look.

  Emily flew into the house, letting the screen door slam after her.

  Maggie winced. “Luckily these houses were buil
t to withstand punishment.”

  “One little girl is nothing. Imagine five boys charging around.”

  “Your mum and Aunt Karina were saints.”

  “A fact they take great pleasure in reminding us of.” A breeze chilled his still-damp skin. “I should go. Can you give me thirty minutes?”

  She nodded. “I’ll put the eggs on when you return.”

  Jake sprinted home. Once inside, he stripped while taking the stairs two at a time. He showered and shaved, arriving back at Tracy’s house with a minute to spare.

  The tantalizing smell of bacon wafted from the open windows. Drawing closer, he heard Emily’s excited chatter and Maggie’s laughter.

  As he rang the doorbell, a cozy image popped into his head of Maggie making breakfast while he read the papers and Emily chased a cat. A chubby-cheeked baby sat in a high chair by the large kitchen table. Hand-drawn pictures and family photos battled for space with hockey magnets on the refrigerator doors.

  Whoa! Where had that come from? Marriage, kids and a traditional family life was a hell of a leap from a couple of dates. He wasn’t anywhere near ready for that kind of commitment, let alone being responsible for Maggie and Emily.

  Jake rolled his shoulders to ease the sudden tightness and to calm the sudden urge to run home. This was just breakfast. Eat, small talk, a few laughs and go. Nothing to get himself bent out of shape about.

  He rang the doorbell again, surprised no one had answered yet.

  When there was still no response, he opened the screen door and called out, “Hello.”

  A burning smell filled the air. From the back of the house, a smoke alarm wailed. Concerned, Jake hurried down the hall, following the sound to its source.

  The chaotic scene in the kitchen was nothing like the one he’d imagined only moments ago. Tracy frantically fanned the whining smoke alarm with a newspaper while Emily fed a piece of burned bacon to the black-and-white cat under the table. Hissing steam erupted from the sink as Maggie dumped a sizzling frying pan into some water.

  Jake reached up and took the battery out of the smoke alarm.

  In the sudden silence, everyone froze.

  A moment later, three female heads whipped around to face him. The trepidation in their expressions was unsettling. When that trepidation turned to fear in two pairs of identical brown eyes—the same fear he recalled from that day at his house—he felt like he’d been sucker punched.