Puck Battles: A Complete Sports Romance Series

by Kristen Echo

  “It’s fine Cherie.” He sat on the couch. Placing his ankle over his knee, he leaned back into a position that displayed his confidence. Full lips traced his perfect teeth as he smiled. He patted the empty cushion next to him. “Gwen should stay. I won’t be here long.”

  His posture suggested otherwise. And what was with the hug? He’d held on for way longer than necessary. Then again, she hadn’t pulled away. What did that say about her? She wasn’t interested in finding out.

  “You two continue your evening and pretend I never interrupted.” She tipped her head to her sister.

  Cherie nodded, granting her permission to leave. It wasn’t often they saw eye to eye; this was a welcome agreement.

  Gwen marched towards the exit, eager to put distance between her and Spencer. Her life was complicated enough without him in it.

  “Wait,” he said.

  This time she didn’t stop.

  “If she wants to go, let her leave,” Cherie countered. “I see no point in begging her to stay.”

  “I’m sorry.” His tone was crystal clear and deeper than earlier.

  Those were two words she never expected to hear him say. Gwen wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Cherie. It didn’t matter. She kept walking, but her pace slowed.

  “Gwen, did you hear me? I’m sorry,” he repeated. He was much closer than she expected.

  She stopped at the door but didn’t open it. She hadn’t expected him to chase her into the foyer. “For what?”

  “I never got a chance to offer my condolences after your father passed. You were close from what I recall. I’m sorry for your loss.” His hands brushed against her shoulders and settled on her biceps.

  Her fingers slipped over the door handle and she swallowed hard. “Thank you. It was a few years ago.” Gwen had always been a daddy’s girl. Losing him had devastated her. “How do you even know about that?”

  “I mentioned it at a Cancer fundraiser a few weeks back.” Cherie leaned against the wall next to her.

  Instead of having a casual conversation in the living room, they were standing at the entry as tension filled the air. “I donated in his honor,” Cherie added, making Gwen feel even smaller.

  Her sister had used the inheritance money to grow her portfolio and make the world a better place. She’d most likely invested it wisely and doubled or even tripled the funds. Gwen was proud of her for being so smart and generous.

  Gwen had paid off debt and made poor decisions with the rest. It was all gone. She’d trusted the wrong man. Instead of that money doing good in her community, it lined the pockets of an asshole. He took everything. Something like that would never have happened to Cherie.

  “Speaking of fundraisers,” Cherie continued. “We should discuss the upcoming—”

  “Another time,” Spencer interrupted. “I am much more interested in discussing Gwen and what she’s been up to for the past twenty-plus years. I want to know everything.”

  Gwen kept her back to them and her hand on the doorknob. She wished the foyer wasn’t so empty. A painting or picture would have been nice. There was nothing to focus on besides the loud beat of her heart. “I have nothing to share.”

  “She’s a middle-aged, unemployed couch surfer. Trust me, her life is not that interesting,” Cherie replied.

  Gwen cringed at her sister’s summation of her life because every word was true. Her list of failures was long, and she didn’t need to stick around to hear more of her mistakes aired. She turned the handle.

  “I’m interested none the less,” Spencer responded. His tone hardened and lacked the silky quality it had earlier. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was pissed, though he had no reason to be.

  “Like Cherie said, my life isn’t worth discussing.” She opened the door. “Later.”

  The hall light greeted her. She could almost taste the fresh air. The hall was empty. It was beyond time to leave.

  “Are you looking for work? Maybe I could help,” he offered.

  His words hit the nail on the head, stopping her foot from entering the hall. She hadn’t kept tabs on her ex. Based on the tailored suit and the fact he hung out in the same circles as her sister, she guessed he had connections and did well for himself.

  As much as she hated to admit this to him, she needed work more than her pride. “As a matter of fact, I am looking. I doubt you’d be able to help me, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “You’d be surprised what I can do.” His voice lowered to a level that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what line of work you’re interested in.”

  Cherie harrumphed and stomped away from them. Sharing attention wasn’t something her sister did well. Her heels clacked against the tile as she mumbled under her breath.

  “Spencer, I couldn’t ask for your help. You are the last person I would ever—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence.” He spun her around, released her arms and stepped back, giving her space.

  For a moment, no one spoke. The door closed with a loud bang. They stood, facing each other and breathing the same air. She kept her eyes on his chest instead of his face. She didn’t want to know what he thought.

  As the seconds ticked by, she couldn’t help herself and her eyes drifted up. “Why?”

  “Why not finish the sentence or why would I help you?” he asked.

  “Both.” She shoved her hands in her pockets.

  “How long are you here for?”

  “I’m not sure,” she answered, looking down at their feet. The shiny, freshly polished tips of his shoes inched closer to her well-worn runners.

  “Give me your number.”

  She smirked. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

  “First your number and then questions.” His tone was playful. He pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to her.

  He wanted her number, and she was actually considering giving it to him. WTF?

  Eyeing the device, she gave it back. “Mine is a pay as you go. I don’t have many minutes,” she admitted.

  She’d been forced to disconnect the monthly plan before leaving the coast. Her daughter had cried when the data turned off. She’d begged her to keep it for a little longer, but it wasn’t possible. The limited airtime they had purchased only covered emergencies. Her life was such a mess. She had no plans on sharing those details with him. The less he knew the better.

  His brows furrowed. “Being offline is nearly unheard of these days.”

  “You sound like my daughter.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s only temporary.”

  “Did you roll your eyes?” he asked, leaning forward and invading her space.

  She couldn’t tell if he was amused or angry, though she suspected the latter. “Yes.”

  He laughed, tossing his head back. His laughter lightened the tension in the air. “Priceless.” He rubbed his hand over his stomach, drawing her eyes to the flat surface. “I can’t remember the last time anyone other than my daughters did that to me.”

  Hearing him say he had kids reminded her she knew nothing about the man. It didn’t surprise her that he had a family. Spencer had once told her that he wanted to have a hockey team sized family, someday. A lifetime ago, she’d pictured carrying his child and growing old with him. Those silly teenage daydreams never materialized. At least not with her, but he was most likely married and had a house full of rug rats.

  “Look, I’m guessing since you hang out with my sister that you have friends who own businesses. I doubt you could help me since I’ve been working in the non-profit sector my entire career. I’m not an investment banker, lawyer or marketing professional. Not that there’s anything wrong with those jobs. They are fine, but I’m not interested in the corporate world. I’m a social worker. The last project I worked for was helping youth fight drug addiction. Our goal was to get them into suitable housing and find additional supports to better their lives.”

  He shook his head. “Do you know anyth
ing about me, Gwen? Have any clue what I’ve been up to since you dumped me?”

  Dumped him? He had things so turned around, but it wasn’t worth rehashing.

  “No. I don’t know anything about you,” she confessed. “Are you a hockey player or something? Cherie mentioned celebrating the Stanley Cup. You seem a tad old to play but—”

  He laughed, silencing her words. “I’m not a hockey player. Though I’m flattered you’d think I had the skill to play in the NHL.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I wasn’t paying you a compliment. Besides, what do you know about me?”

  He narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer. The stare down would yield no winners.

  Gwen exhaled and broke eye contact. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not in the mood to shoot the breeze. It’s been a very long day. I didn’t expect Cherie to have company. I certainly never expected to see you again.” She leaned her back against the door.

  “Life works in mysterious ways,” he said, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

  “But you’re here,” she huffed. “You offered assistance with work, so talk. After you’ve said your piece, we can part ways. I’d like to grab a quick stretch outside before I crash. I’m sure your wife and kids are expecting you home any minute. Let’s not keep them waiting.” She reached for the door handle and twisted it.

  He slammed his hand against the door, preventing her from opening it. “There’s no one waiting for me. My wife passed away a long time ago, and I never remarried. It’s me and my kids. My eldest daughter is married, and I tucked my youngest into bed before I left the house. I have all the time in the world to hear your story, but we can save that for another time.”

  Spencer was a single father. The news jolted her like a sip of espresso in the morning. The exhaustion from two days on the road vanished. She opened her mouth, but no words followed.

  “If you want to continue helping kids, I might be able to assist. I sit on several charitable boards and am very well connected in our not-for-profit sector. Would you like me to make some calls?”

  Gwen nodded because she still couldn’t speak.

  “Consider it done,” he said, and she believed him.

  “There’s no need to linger by the door. Either stay or go,” Cherie bellowed from the other room. “Spencer, I poured you a scotch.”

  “Will you join us for a drink?” he asked.

  “No,” she croaked. It had a been ages since anyone other than her father had helped her. It had been even longer since a man had followed through on his word. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it bloomed regardless.

  “Gwen—”

  “Thank you.” She hugged him hard.

  Sparks flew. She felt the fires licking every inch where they connected. It reminded her of the first time they’d met. It had been every bit as consuming.

  Damn.

  The intense connection she’d always felt around him returned. He wrapped her in his arms and held her close. It seemed intimate. Gwen suddenly second guessed her actions. She pulled away and shuffled backwards two steps towards the door. No more hesitations.

  “Goodbye,” she said, licking her dry lips.

  “Until we meet again,” he replied. “It won’t be two decades. I promise you that much.” He nodded then turned and sauntered out of sight.

  Gwen pressed her hand over her smiling lips. Maybe things were turning around. Then again, she’d trusted him before. She knew better than to expect anything from him but disappointment. Too bad.

  Chapter 3

  An elbow nudged her side. The double bed in Cherie’s guest room was more comfortable than Gwen had expected. She ignored the jab and snuggled closer to her daughter. Once she opened her eyes, the day would begin. Dealing with her sister was unavoidable, yet she was in no rush for confrontation.

  After leaving the condo last night, Gwen had gone for an extra-long walk. She’d purposefully taken her time. The last thing she’d wanted was to see Spencer again. Though she had wanted to ask her sister about why he was there. Her sister was not a hockey fan. Something felt off about the entire encounter. Unfortunately, by the time she’d returned, Cherie had already gone to bed.

  “Mom, it’s too early to cuddle,” Westlyn croaked. Her voice still laced with sleep as she tried to wriggle away.

  “Never too early.” She loosened her arms but remained glued to her daughter’s side. The bed was small, but they fit. It reminded her of when her little girl was much younger and the countless nights they’d snuggled. Wes always had her own bed yet preferred to sleep with her mom. Gwen missed those days. “Are you still tired?”

  The teenager rolled onto her back, forcing her mother to the edge. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

  Sunshine greeted Gwen as she opened her eyes. She’d forgotten to close the drapes before crawling into bed. The light poured into the room.

  “It’s pretty bright,” she said. Lifting her head, she spotted the clock across the room perched on top of the dresser. The time confirmed a new day was upon them. “It’s early morning,” she confirmed.

  Her daughter groaned and pulled the blankets over her head. “I’m not ready to get out of bed. You said this was summer vacation. Unless you were lying, I’m allowed to sleep in. Right?”

  She laughed, letting her head hit the pillow anew. “Sure. Go back to sleep. I should get up and talk to your aunt.”

  “Thanks. Try to make up. If you can, be nice to her,” Wes added.

  Gwen inhaled sharply. “I’m always nice.” That was part of her problem. People used her kindness against her. She huffed, rolled out of bed and rummaged on the floor for her shorts.

  “Let me rephrase,” Westlyn said from under the covers. “Tell her what she wants to hear to end the fight. You’re always telling me to be the bigger person, regardless of who did what wrong. She’s the only family we have. I don’t think our surprise visit is a welcome one.”

  Sliding the denim onto her legs, she smiled at her daughter. “You’re a wise one.” She leaned over and kissed the blanket covering Westlyn’s forehead. “I’ll do my best to make things right. Don’t worry about us. I love you and get up whenever you’re ready.”

  Mumbles followed, but nothing decipherable. Gwen zipped her shorts, tucked in her pajama top and tied her wild mane into a messy bun before leaving the room. Once in the hall, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lured her towards the kitchen.

  Her sister sat at the island with a laptop open in front of her. She was already dressed for the day, wearing a fancy sleeveless top and pin striped skirt. The pumps on her feet made Gwen wonder if the woman ever relaxed.

  “You walk like an elephant,” Cherie said without looking over her shoulder. “If you were trying to sneak up on me, you need to be much lighter on your feet.”

  Gwen laughed. That was something her mother used to tell her when she was younger. “You sound just like her. You know?”

  The similarities between mother and daughter were too numerous to count. Cherie had the same pale complexion, light green eyes and lithe stature. Gwen favored their father with his tanned skin tone, dark hair and curves. She also took his genetics for height and towered over her sister.

  “I can’t remember her voice,” Cherie replied. The comment caught her off guard since they rarely talked about their mother.

  One minor fender bender during Gwen’s senior year had changed everything. Gwen had been driving with her mother when another car hit them. It wasn’t her fault, but Cherie blamed her for their mother becoming ill. It wasn’t cancer or some incurable disease that took her life too soon. Their mother had become addicted to pain killers and quickly advanced to heroin. Less than a year following the accident, she was dead.

  Cherie cleared her throat. “Mugs are above the coffee maker. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks,” she said and grabbed a cup. Steam rose as she poured the coffee into the plain, white mug. Gwen inhaled the aromatic fragrance, drawing streng
th from the familiar brew. “If you ever want to talk about her or dad, we could.”

  Her senior year had been far from normal. As the eldest daughter, Gwen had postponed college to help around the house and take her mother to treatments, but nothing worked. Before the addiction, the girls had been closer. A lot changed that year, and nothing was ever the same afterwards.

  “They’d probably be happy for us to talk and remember them,” she continued. “Reminisce about old—”

  “I don’t live in the past. My life is too hectic to look backwards.” Cherie closed the laptop. “Maybe if you spent a little more time focusing on the future, you wouldn’t find yourself in these messes. Always relying on others to bail you out. If anyone is like her, it’s you.”

  It wasn’t meant as a compliment. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll keep your suggestion in mind.”

  “Please do,” Cherie replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Cream is in the fridge.”

  “Black is good. I hope you slept well.” She joined her at the island. The way the light hit the surface made it look like crushed diamonds were imbedded into the stone.

  “I slept fine.”

  Standing across from her sister, she set the cup down. “I had hoped you’d still be awake when I got back from my walk. Guess you were tired. Um… I’ll bet you’ve got questions and I do too.”

  “What I have is a full day ahead.” Cherie adjusted the collar of her pale pink blouse. “I won’t be home until late.”

  “But it’s the weekend,” she countered.

  Her sister scoffed. “Maybe for some. I have a meeting at the office. People are expecting me. How long are you and Wes planning to stay?”

  “In Winnipeg, maybe permanently. Time will tell. With you, I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

  The stool screeched against the tile as Cherie pushed away from the glittering counter. “I have to go.”

  Gwen closed her eyes. “Before you go, can you tell me why was my… I mean why was Spencer here last night? When did you two start talking?”