Game On Box Set: Time OutHer Man AdvantageFace-OffBody Check

by Jill Shalvis

  Inside the tiny room where she’d given her statement to a nice female police officer, Jennifer smiled. She could hear Axel in the hallway, demanding her release.

  She hadn’t seen him after they were taken in to make formal complaints against the biker gang. During the night, she’d had a powwow with a Murphy family lawyer to be sure her rights were respected throughout the process. Kyle had been in to check on her at various times, and he’d told her Axel hadn’t been arrested, thank God. But with all the paperwork to sign, she realized she’d been here for so long the sun was already up. She’d been finished for nearly an hour, she’d just needed to check in with her boss. He’d left her a million messages after the good ratings news about the hockey documentary. The show had been a hit.

  “Colin,” she told her boss over the phone as Axel charged into the narrow room. “I’m thrilled about the ratings and I’m glad we’re in good shape for next week. But I’ve got an important meeting that I need to take. I’ll have to call you back.”

  She disconnected the call, knowing that Axel mattered more than her micromanaging boss.

  “Morning,” she chirped nervously, unsure how to read his mood. The last time they’d spoken privately, they’d been crouched behind a bar while bullets flew around them and he’d been angry with her for following him to the warehouse.

  Was he still upset? More important, did he still think they ought to part ways?

  “How are you?” he asked, polite but somehow too formal.

  Was it her imagination or was he more distant today? He wore a clean blue button-down and khakis, his shirt open at the collar with a gray T-shirt underneath. Kyle must have brought him clothes during the night after Axel had called him.

  “Fine. They’re done with me, I was just checking in with work.” Her eyes raked over him as she remembered how he’d planted himself between her and the flying bullets, protecting her when she’d been too shell-shocked to understand what was happening. His big, strong body had sheltered her.

  Would it be the last time he touched her?

  “Good. My brother left a car for us so I can take you home.”

  She nodded, wishing he’d wrap her in his arms. Kiss her. Tell her they could go back to the way things were before he’d broken her heart and told her they weren’t meant to be together.

  “Have you seen the paper today?” He pointed toward the copy on the small table in the interview room as she gathered her things to head home.

  “I saw you must have sent out a press release about your experience with the Destroyers as a kid.” The article had been short, but Kyle had told her they were eager to publicize Axel’s version of his past before the news leaked about Jaako’s arrest and attempted blackmail. “I thought it was well-handled.”

  Her cell phone chimed and she turned it off, not wanting to disrupt their conversation.

  “The Murphys have great connections.” They walked out of the interview room, and he gestured toward the front entrance, holding doors for her on their way out. “Kyle had everything ready for me to make a formal announcement last night. I think it was his way of apologizing for letting you out of his sight at the viewing party.”

  In the parking lot, he pointed to the car his brother had left for them, a midnight-blue Audi Coupe in keeping with the showroom vehicles his family seemed to favor.

  “He really didn’t have a chance to keep me there since I sneaked out right behind you.”

  “You’re too impulsive,” he muttered, but there wasn’t much heat in the words. He opened the car door for her but she didn’t get inside.

  She put her hands on her hips, bracing herself to stand up to this strong-willed man whom she desperately wanted in her life.

  “Maybe you’re too stubborn, or you would have let me help you come up with a better plan in the first place.”

  Sheltered from the station’s view by a police van, Axel reached for her as they stood toe to toe. He sketched a touch along her jaw that melted her insides even though she wasn’t nearly done giving him a piece of her mind.

  “Don’t you get it?” He spoke to her tenderly, his words as soft as his touch. “I needed to protect you. I nearly had a heart attack when you showed up there last night.”

  “I didn’t think they’d catch me,” she admitted, knowing she’d messed up. “But if I had to do it all over again…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I would do differently.”

  “You realize how much that scares the hell out of me?” His blue eyes warmed to a darker shade and she wished she could stare into them forever.

  “So don’t get into trouble anymore,” she ventured, bringing up the idea of a future. “And I won’t have to bail you out.”

  His fingers hesitated where he touched her.

  “I’ve got a better idea.” His squared jaw warned her he would be digging his heels in on this point.

  “Try me.” She wanted to turn her cheek toward his hand and place a kiss in his palm. Actually, she’d be content to kiss him anywhere.

  “How about you stay with me and then neither of us will get into trouble without the other?” He stroked his fingers through her hair, combing gently. Slowly.

  “Stay…with you?” she repeated, wanting to be sure she got this right.

  A car backed out of a spot near them, but they ignored it, wrapped up in the moment.

  “Yes.” He twined a lock of hair around his finger, his gaze probing hers. “You could find social causes to film in Philadelphia as easily as you can in New York. And if you decide to traipse through gang terrain or get on the wrong side of some corrupt government official, I’ll be there to make sure no one hassles you.”

  Pleasure sparked, a warm hopefulness that lit her up from within.

  “My own personal defenseman.” She pretended to mull that over, knowing she wasn’t going anywhere if Axel Rankin wanted her to stay. “You could help keep me safe while I fix the problems in the world, one film at a time.”

  “It seems like fitting penance for a former gang member.” He was only half joking, she knew.

  No matter that he’d only been a kid at the time, Axel carried guilt in his heart from those days in Helsinki. He didn’t know it, but healing that guilt was going to be one of her secret causes. He was too good of a man to be weighed down by those dark days.

  “No.” Shaking her head, she stepped closer, needing to feel that connection between them after how scared she’d been for him the night before. “It seems like fitting penance for telling me we didn’t belong together.”

  A police car peeled out of the station with the siren on, the sound piercing at such near distance, but that didn’t begin to faze her after what she and Axel had gone through last night.

  “I didn’t mean that,” he admitted, folding his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Although you can’t deny you’ve had reservations about my lifestyle.”

  Awareness simmered in her blood and she breathed in his scent. She wondered how much room there was in the backseat of an Audi.

  “For a so-called hockey goon, you sure are good at reading people.”

  “I’m only good at reading you.” He placed a kiss at her temple, a soft slide of his lips along her hairline. “That’s because I can’t ever take my eyes off you.”

  “Well, I think we can work around our lifestyles, don’t you?” She would never be a trophy wife with a standing spa appointment or a home on the cover of design magazines. “I could probably be swayed by the benefits of a bigger house and maybe you’d see the light and buy a hybrid.”

  His laughter rumbled through his chest and warmed hers. She looped her arms around his neck, knowing she’d never let him go.

  “Sounds like you’ve already got a plan.”

  “Just ask anyone who knows me. I’m a problem solver.”

  “Speaking of which, do you think your sister would be interested in trying on a Philadelphia school for size?”

  The question stopped her. Made her heart trip up its rhy
thm.

  “Honestly?” She wasn’t sure her sister would agree, but the fact that he’d offered…wow.

  “I like big families.” The certainty in his voice told her they were going to agree on the important things in life. The things that really mattered. “And no one knows better than me that you don’t have to be born into a family to feel that connection.”

  Tears warmed her eyes unexpectedly and she was grateful for the cool spring breeze that helped her keep them at bay. Even if she couldn’t convince her sister to come for school, she could picture Julia staying with them for the summers.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, choked up and ready to fall into that fancy car with him. Cover him with kisses.

  “Anything for you.” He captured her lips and she felt her knees turn to jelly.

  She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in that kiss, to dream of forever with her sexy hockey player, the stubborn Finn who was more than a match for her.

  But an abrupt honk from a nearby car interrupted the sweet heat flowing in her veins.

  “Jen? Axel?” Bryce the cameraman shouted at them through the rolled-down window of a white Ford rental sedan, his voice an unexpected intrusion. “Sorry to startle you. You must have your phones turned off.”

  “With good reason, dude. We’re kind of busy here.” Axel tucked her closer. “What’s up?”

  Bryce grinned. “A lady from the features page is at the practice rink. Stacy someone or other. She wants to do a special about how Ax’s life turned around after the gang years. Colin thought it would be good to jump on this to boost the ratings—”

  “Not right now.” Jennifer didn’t want to share Axel, no matter how good the publicity might be. They’d have time enough to make sure he talked to at-risk teens in the area. Told his story in places that might save other kids from making the same mistakes. For now, she needed him.

  “Are you sure?” Bryce pressed. “You know how Colin is.”

  But Jennifer was done kowtowing to her boss for the chance to make the stories she wanted. The good ratings on the hockey documentary were going to be her ticket to a stronger voice in the production company. And if he wouldn’t listen? She had options now. Commercial credentials.

  “Colin will survive. You can tell the reporter—Stacy—she’ll just have to watch the next installment of the documentary,” Jennifer told him while Axel waved the guy’s car away.

  Alone again, she sealed her aching body to the hard strength of Axel’s, ready to go home. She closed her eyes as he dropped a kiss on the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, the warm puff of his breath making her skin tingle everywhere at once.

  Edging away from her heated flesh, Axel grinned.

  “He could have just told her that I get one hell of a happy ending,” he added, right before he backed Jennifer into the car and reminded her why they were meant to be together after all.

  * * * * *

  Face-Off

  Nancy Warren

  Ice Time

  1

  “ONE MORE TIME, BIG J, scrape that blade down your face and look into the camera like this is the greatest shave of your life,” the enthusiastic director instructed him as though this was the first take of the shaving commercial and not the eighth.

  Jarrad McBride experienced a flash of annoyance. He knew the guy was only doing his job, but he hated being called Big J. It was a hockey-player nickname, and he wasn’t a hockey player anymore. What he was, was a guy who peddled shaving cream and toothpaste on TV. He had no idea why anybody would buy shaving cream ’cause a guy who used to shoot pucks down the ice appeared on their flat screen and told them to, but he’d long ago worked out that the world was a crazy place, and L.A. was the epicenter of crazy.

  “If you keep him lathered up much longer he’s going to get a rash,” Lester Salisbury said. Lester was his manager and the reason for all these “promotional opportunities.” He was smart and knew Jarrad well enough that he’d picked up on the annoyance, even if he’d misinterpreted the cause.

  “That’s okay, Les. If I got paid this much money every time I shaved, I’d be a wealthy man.”

  “You’re already a wealthy man,” Les reminded him as the young woman whose job it was to display the cream to best advantage on his face danced up and smoothed the edges with careful finger swirls as though she was icing a cake.

  She was pretty, with flyaway blond hair and innocent blue eyes. Jarrad should hit on her, he knew that. Partly because of his reputation and also because of the way she’d shot a couple of half scared, half hopeful glances at him; she obviously expected it. He didn’t want to let her down, but he really didn’t have the energy.

  Still, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Thanks, Jill,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “You remembered my name?”

  In fact, he had a great memory, he remembered the names of a lot of people he’d like to forget as well as his near and dear, and when people drifted in and out of his life—as an astonishing number seemed to do—he tried to pay attention at least while they were in his orbit.

  Jill seemed like a nice enough girl, but he could see she’d bore him in an evening. He suspected that if she didn’t get hit on by a guy of his reputation, she’d take it the wrong way. “How could I forget someone who takes care of me so well,” he said, smiling. Then, for the ninth time, he picked up the razor and stared into the movie camera.

  Todd, the director, said, “And three, and two and one,” and on cue Jarrad scraped the blade slowly down his face.

  “Great,” Todd said with as much enthusiasm as if he’d just played Hamlet on Broadway to a standing ovation. “Now, we’ll get you shaved and then we’ll do your speaking part.” Jill toweled the white stuff off his face.

  A professional barber was waiting for him in the film studio’s dressing room. Personally, he thought it was cheating to pretend that one brand of shaving cream could give as good a look as a pro, but, as Les often reminded him, nobody paid him to think.

  “Looking good, buddy,” his manager said as he walked him down the hall.

  Once he’d been shaved, moisturized and hair-styled, the makeup woman tried to dab makeup on his scar, but he put up a hand to stop her. “That scar’s my trademark, honey. You cover that up, people’ll wonder what else you’re hiding.”

  Luckily, Todd sided with him, so he was allowed to finish the shoot looking at least a little bit like himself.

  The enthusiasm was as thick as the shaving cream when the director prepared him for his pitch. “Remember, you believe in this product. When you say your lines, think about something that really excites you.”

  “Okay.” Sounded easy enough to think of something that excited him. He searched. His mind was blank. He could think about sex but that only reminded him of the tabloid pictures of his ex-wife cavorting in Belize, letting the world know she’d traded up to the NBA.

  He could think about his bank balance, but he knew he’d never be able to spend all his money no matter how long he lived, which for some reason made him wonder how old he’d be when he kicked it. Another uninspiring thought.

  Most of his greatest moments had happened in hockey rinks, but his retirement was still too raw, too unexpected. His mind veered away.

  Finally he moved back to childhood, settled on a memory of going to the pound and picking out a puppy when he was a kid. He and his sister both went, his baby brother not being thought of yet, and even though they argued about everything, they’d instantly agreed on the eager-looking young black Lab who’d squirmed and danced with excitement at their visit, licking their faces and making them all laugh. He’d wanted to call the dog Lucky, Samantha argued for Lucy and somehow they ended up calling the dog Fred.

  Maybe if he thought hard enough about Fred he could forget that this shaving cream dialogue was butt-awful.

  While Fred galloped through his memory, racing after a Frisbee, stick, ball, puck, rock, sock, pretty much anything that moved, Jarrad looked right into that
big square camera, ignoring the camera operator, the beaming director, his hovering manager, the lighting guy, the sound guy and the gophers. He saw Fred leap into the air, teeth closing on a badly chewed and mangled red Frisbee, his black body wriggling in happiness and said, “A perfect shave is like a skating rink right before the action. Smooth, clean, cool. Like my shaving cream.” As instructed he now glanced at the blue canister in his hand and back at the camera. “Ice.”

  He’d refused to let them film him anywhere near a hockey rink or the equipment of a game he could no longer play. Instead, they’d hired a good-looking female model and shot the pair of them supposedly heading out for a night on the town. They’d already shot all that stuff earlier. Once Todd was happy with his one line, he’d be out of here.

  It took two more tries, and Fred dragged rocks out of the creek down by their old house before Todd called it a wrap.

  He shook hands with everybody, flirted with the shaving cream girl a little bit more, and finally he and Les were free. As they hit the pavement both pulled out similar black shades and slipped them on against the glare of an endlessly sunny L.A. day. “Two days to film a thirty-second commercial?” he complained, as though he’d never done one before.

  “I should make your hourly wage,” Les said.

  “It was boring.”

  Les patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “I know it’s tough now that you’ve had to hang up your skates. And stuff.” A delicate silence hung in the air, but they both knew that and stuff referred to his ex making a fool of him in public. “You have to do something with your time,” he reminded him.

  And that was the problem.

  He’d have countered with some smart-assed remark except that his new smart phone rang. And call display told him it was somebody he actually wanted to talk to. Unlike Les, on the subject of what he was going to do with his life.

  “I was just thinking about Fred,” he said into the phone, waving goodbye to his agent as he did so.