Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1)

by Jami Davenport

  “Probably too much. I don’t trust his motives.”

  Kaley glanced over her shoulder and then back. “You don’t trust anyone’s motives.”

  Lauren shrugged. Kaley spoke the truth.

  “Did you see the hot guy with him?”

  Lauren thought Ethan was pretty damn hot for a businessman, not her normal type. “Uh, I hadn’t noticed.”

  Kaley narrowed her eyes and studied Lauren. “Don’t you dare go crushing on Ethan. He’s trouble; I have a sixth sense about guys like him.”

  “Look at you. Warning me when you’re drooling over his partner in crime.”

  “I am not, even if he is sexy as hell, and I have an orgasm looking at him. But orgasmically sexy doesn’t mean anything. It’s all look and no touch. I don’t date rich pricks with an ego bigger than Cedric’s.” Cedric was their charismatic forward, who played as hard off the ice as he did on it.

  “So you just date poor pricks or what?”

  “I do have soft spot for them.” Kaley shrugged one shoulder and studied her fingernails.

  “You have a soft spot for good-looking men in general, forget about their personalities.” Kaley was a serial dater, and Lauren lived vicariously through her since dating didn’t seem to be her forte or even one of her sins. Her life revolved around hockey, and unless the man was on skates, had a wicked slapshot, or an even more wicked right hook, she wasn’t interested. Of course, she didn’t date hockey players, at least not anymore. She’d taken a few for a spin around the rink in her college days and decided they made better friends than lovers, except for the one she’d married. That biggest mistake of her life drove home the no dating of hockey players, which she’d amended to any man involved in hockey just to play it safe.

  Kaley wagged a finger at her. “Just remember, play nice. The league has been trying to land a buyer forever that would keep the team in Florida. So let’s hope this guy gives a favorable report to his bosses, or we’ll be sold to that Seattle group who’s been circling like a shark. Next thing you know, we’ll be sipping lattes on the waterfront, watching ferry boats putter around.”

  “In the pouring rain.”

  “Well, there is that,” Kaley acknowledged with a toss of her black hair.

  “How do we know this guy isn’t working for the Seattle group?” Lauren frowned as she put to words fears she’d been harboring since Sunday.

  For a moment a cloud passed over Kaley’s face, then she smiled, slipping back into her create-my-own-reality mode. “Because Ike said he wasn’t.”

  Just thinking of Seattle shot dread through Lauren. She didn’t have a thing against Seattle, but she was an East Coast girl through and through. Moss and mold made her sneeze. Huge trees and mountains gave her claustrophobia. And the geeks Seattle was famous for didn’t buy hockey tickets, did they?

  A tall man with dark blond hair and dancing blue eyes poked his head in the doorway. “Hey, I’m looking for Ethan.” He turned his panty-dropping smile on Lauren but it lingered on Kaley. As usual, most men couldn’t get past her long black hair, curvy body, and dark, mysterious eyes. “Hey, hi, again.”

  Kaley literally purred as she stopped next to the guy and wrapped her fingers around his arm. “Hi, yourself. Brad, you know Lauren Schneider, our assistant director of player personnel?”

  Brad smiled at her, a player this one and obviously good natured and fun-loving. “So you’re the poor girl who gets to babysit the man. Good luck. He’s a handful.”

  “I’m sure I can handle him just fine.”

  Kaley, in full flirt mode, batted thick eyelashes at Brad. “Let’s see if we can find Ethan. Lauren has work to do.”

  Brad laughed, a full-throated laugh. “As long as she’s the one doing the work, and it isn’t us.” He came across as the type of guy a girl couldn’t help but like—gregarious, fun, and not a mean bone in his body.

  Together Brad and Kaley strolled down the hall in the opposite direction of where Ethan happened to be meeting with the coaches.

  Lauren shook her head. Leave it to Kaley to hustle the hot guy. But anything that helped their cause was more than worth it, as long as it wasn’t Lauren doing the hustling.

  With a sigh she went back to work on her statistics and spreadsheets, making notes here and there and jotting down items for Ethan’s attention, items which painted the current team and staff in a positive light.

  Anything for the good of the team.

  Chapter 3—Breakaway

  On Wednesday Ethan took his seat on the glass near the players’ bench for the first round of the playoff series between the Giants and Montreal. The entire team and selected staff had flown into Montreal by private jet the night before. Ethan insisted on being on that jet, observing and forming impressions, just like he insisted on sitting on the glass tonight. He needed to be on top of the action for the first playoff game to assess how the team interacted with each other and the coaching staff, to study their weaknesses and strengths, and evaluate each line. He’d already watched endless film from an overhead view, but being down on the glass gave him a completely different perspective up close and personal of how the team worked together on the ice.

  Ethan opened up his iPad and tapped some notes on the players as they warmed up. The first line was as good as any in pro hockey. Cooper Black was the undisputed leader of the team, fast and aggressive, their top scorer and near the top in assists, too. Next to him at right wing skated Cedric Pedersen, a strong Swede who could power a puck into the net. At left wing, a young guy, Drew Delacorte, was still raw but had the talent. Martin “Brick” Bricker in his second year played goalie with enthusiasm and heart, though his inexperience would come through at the worst of times. On defense, Matt LeRue skated his ass off, quick, strong, and not afraid to mix it up when needed. The guy handled the puck like a baby in his arms. Jason “Wildman” Wilder was the other half of the defensive combo and fought for possession like a crazed man.

  The guys worked well together, but Ethan didn’t believe they were good enough to get past the first round, considering that the second and third lines were an unremarkable average. The team needed an overhaul, and he needed a coach and GM with the guts to do it. But he wasn’t here to prove or disprove his initial impressions, and he kept an open mind. There might be players with untapped talent who’d shine when paired up with the right line to capitalize on their strengths.

  Ethan glanced up as Lauren slid into the seat next to him. She nodded, took stock of his iPad, and raised one eyebrow, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. She held a similar device along with a tablet of yellow-lined paper. Obviously embracing the old and the new.

  He liked that.

  He also liked how good she smelled, which somewhat threw him for a loop. So did that little uptick in his heart rate and a slight shortness of breath, all signs he was attracted to a woman. A fucking bad idea considering how horribly his only dalliance with a woman on his payroll had ended, not that Lauren was technically on his payroll. Yet.

  Regardless, he couldn’t help but notice her curvy body in her standard-issue suit, nice ass, and even nicer rack, even though her clothes usually disguised her figure. Tonight not so much. This suit fit a little tighter than the others he’d seen, not to mention a slightly shorter skirt. He liked that shorter skirt, but she needed to lose the damn bun.

  Their eyes met and that little uptick kicked up a notch or two—ah, hell, maybe three. Lauren looked away quickly, almost as if flustered, which left him feeling a little smug that she noticed the chemistry, too.

  Lauren woke up her tablet and started reading through stuff. Ethan leaned over to get a better look. She handed it to him. He was impressed. This team seemed a little behind the times, but these detailed stats were usually employed by the more progressive teams. Endless detailed stats, from the first drop of the puck to the final buzzer. It was all there.

  “I’m impressed. You keep advanced analytics.”

  Lauren’s face colored in the most attracti
ve shade of dark pink. “Yes, but so far I haven’t convinced the coaching staff as to their usefulness.”

  “A little old school, are they?” He asked conversationally.

  She opened her mouth, appeared to think better of whatever she was about to say, and snapped it shut. “They’ll come around.”

  Ethan nodded, fully aware he needed to earn her trust before she’d reveal any telling details about the staff, especially the coaches. Players would be another thing. After all, this was business, and she was good at her job, so she had to have opinions on where they were lacking.

  “What do you think of the first line? They seem strong. Second line seems solid, but I’m not sold on that third and fourth line.”

  Lauren hesitated then launched into a detailed analysis of each player’s strengths and weaknesses from the first line to the fourth line that would have done her father proud. It sure as hell impressed Ethan. She pointed out things he hadn’t picked up on, while her advanced statistics revealed the true workhorses on the team, guys who carried the team yet might not show up in the usual statistics because they may not have scored the goal but their actions led up to it.

  Ethan sat back and let her talk. Details didn’t usually excite him, but the challenge of putting all the pieces together into a winning organization compelled him to listen to her.

  The puck dropped and the game started. Lauren stopped mid-sentence and focused on the men driving up and down the ice. Ethan smiled, amused at how intently she watched the game. Just like him. Turning his attention to the ice, he leaned forward and gripped his armrests, his body following the movements of certain players as if he were on the ice with them.

  Lauren offered occasional tidbits of information on particular players. He’d never met a woman with such extensive knowledge of hockey. Even better, she had a great eye for talent, which was equally impressive. If there’d ever been any doubt, he knew without reservation he wanted her in Seattle, and he’d do what it took to keep her.

  If only he could explain who and what he was doing there so his deception wouldn’t come between them when the sale was announced. But he couldn’t. The league had effectively shut that door and locked it. The gag order said it all. Leakage of information on this purchase agreement meant no team. And he wanted this team in the worst way.

  But there was something else he wanted that shocked the hell out of him. He wanted Lauren in the worst way. He’d never expected to be attracted to her. Maybe it was her subtle sexuality, her complete openness, and lack of pretenses. She was who she was, and if you didn’t like it, too bad for you.

  Most of the women he knew played games. Not this woman.

  Ethan shook his head, trying to clear it. He was here for one reason and one reason only—the culmination of his dream to bring hockey to Seattle.

  He wanted Lauren on his team, but he could not want her in his bed for a myriad of reasons.

  Tell that to his dick because it had other ideas.

  Tough luck, it was staying on the bench.

  * * * *

  Lauren followed Ethan to the arena concourse. The Giants lost a heartbreaking game, and thinking about it made Lauren sick to her stomach.

  Right now she should be thinking life didn’t get better than this. Despite their first loss, they were still in it, skating in their first playoff series in years; next to her stood a man who might well be the team’s savior, and he was an incredibly attractive man.

  His eyes lit up with unbridled enthusiasm every time they discussed the team and its potential, almost as if he had a personal stake in the Giants, rather than being a hired consultant. She loved the interest he showed in all aspects of the team; hopefully, his employers shared his enthusiasm.

  Yet, his level of enthusiasm and involvement didn’t quite fit, and niggling suspicions that things weren’t as they seemed prevented Lauren’s complete trust in the man, not that she trusted easily. She’d been burned too many times from family members to friends to lovers to one cheating husband. It made a girl cautious as to whom she granted that precious trust. Ethan would need to earn it by his actions and his words. For now, she’d enjoy looking at him, because that was purely a joy, and feeding him positive tidbits about the team and staff. That very team who’d lost its first playoff game by one goal.

  “I want to see how the coach and team handle the loss,” Ethan said, grim determination etched on his handsome face.

  “The coach doesn’t like anyone in the locker room directly after the game.”

  Ethan gave her one of those looks which clearly said he didn’t give a shit what the coach did or didn’t like, but he’d damn well do as he pleased. Turning, he showed security his badge and headed down the tunnel with Lauren on his heels.

  “Ethan, this isn’t a good idea.” The infuriating man kept walking, which really pissed her off. He barged into the locker room with her hot on his heels then stopped so abruptly that she bumped into his backside.

  The players sat around the locker room on benches, heads hanging, frowns on their faces, and in various states of undress. Lauren had seen the men many times before in this situation, but this was sacred ground, and Ethan did not belong in here.

  Coach Ferrar, fondly known as Coach Fur by staff and team alike, stopped mid-sentence and glared at the unwelcome intruders. While Coach wanted the Sleezers out of team ownership, he, like Lauren, didn’t exactly trust Ethan either, and even worse, he hated change. As Lauren saw it, the coach figured the devil he knew—the Sleezers—was better than the devil he didn’t, in the form of Ethan and his anonymous employers.

  At the coach’s silence, every player glanced up, their gazes shifting from Coach to Ethan and back to Coach. They held their collective breaths, as if sensing a good fight in the making, and Lauren bet all the money was on Coach.

  She glanced at Ethan, who didn’t seem the least bit affected by the coach’s laser sharp gaze. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

  “It’d be better if you weren’t,” Coach Fur growled.

  Ethan didn’t move. Instead he smiled as if Coach couldn’t possibly be referring to him.

  “Look, I know we’ve been ordered to cater to you, and God knows we want the Sleezers out of ownership, but that doesn’t mean you can walk in here like you own the place. This is private business between the team and coaches.”

  A muscle ticked in Ethan’s strong jaw, but his calm voice echoed through the silent room. “I’m examining all aspects of this team for the prospective owners, including the locker room atmosphere.”

  The team captain, Cooper Black, muttered something to his buddy, Cedric.

  “What was that, Black? You got something to say, say it so I can hear it.”

  Coop’s eyes narrowed, and he met Ethan’s direct gaze with a challenging one of his own. “I said since when do owners—prospective or otherwise—give a shit about what goes on in the locker room as long as we win on the ice?”

  “This group does. They’re very hands-on.”

  “Great, just what I fucking need. Owners who think they can tell me how to coach.” Coach slapped his clipboard against his thigh, obviously beyond annoyed. Several of the guys nodded their heads in agreement.

  “And me how to play,” Cooper didn’t seem impressed with Ethan or his billionaire employers.

  “I’ve interrupted enough. I’ll fade into the background. Continue as if I’m not here.” Ethan wasn’t the least bit moved by their words, or put off. He just shrugged and took a seat as if he was one of the guys. Lauren wrung her hands and tried to think of a way to get him out of there. No one came into the locker room directly after the game. No one. Coach would have her head for letting Ethan in, as if she could have stopped him.

  Ethan sat back as if he were in a movie theatre and the show was about to begin. Lauren wanted to throttle the man with her bare hands.

  Realizing their unwelcome guest wasn’t leaving, the coach turned to his team. “It’s only game one. We know a lot more about our opponents th
an we did yesterday. We’ll get them tomorrow. That’s it, guys. Meet back here in the morning, usual time.”

  He purposely didn’t say what time to keep Ethan out of the loop. The team stood, going back to their post-game routines. Ethan met Lauren’s gaze and raised a decidedly amused eyebrow.

  “Don’t you think we should leave now?”

  Ethan sighed and stood. He held the door open for her and she gladly exited from the locker room. As soon as they were in the hallway, she turned on him. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

  “I told you. I’m evaluating the team and its operations.” His calm voice infuriated her even more, and she did have a bit of her father’s temper.

  “And that includes invading the sacred sanctuary of the coach’s post-game speech?”

  “It especially means that. I wanted to see how coaches and players handled the loss. How a team handles losing is more important than how they handle winning. Do they mope, do they get fired up, do they hang their heads in defeat, or do they immediately look to the next game and what they can do better?”

  “They handled the loss fine, but they didn’t handle you fine.”

  “They’ll get used to me.” Ethan stared over her head, focusing on the GM and other staff members standing in the hallway with a few sports reporters.

  “They don’t need to. You’re a temporary fixture around here.”

  His head snapped back around to her. Something flashed briefly across his face. Had it been guilt? Had she read too much into it? Could someone as bold and self-centered as Ethan even feel guilt? And if he did, what did he have to feel guilty about? Lauren’s stomach tightened with dread, dread of the unknown.

  The man had secrets, and she didn’t know if he was the team’s savior or the team’s destroyer. “Look, I know you’re not a hockey guy—”

  “Which you remind me of every chance you get.”

  “Because you’re an arrogant, stubborn—“ Lauren stopped and shoved her knuckles in her mouth. She wanted—needed—to keep this job. A job this high up in a pro organization was damn near impossible for a man to get, let alone a woman, and she was sure as hell doing a bang-up job of fucking it up.