Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)

by S. R. Grey

  He starts to reply, but his own cell goes off, blaring out the lyrics to KC and the Sunshine Band’s song “Don’t Go.”

  “Oh my God, I love that song,” I say as I nod along to the beat. “It’s such a classic.”

  “It is,” he agrees. “And I remembered you saying once that you loved it. Anyway”—he blows out a breath—“it seemed particularly fitting for today. I downloaded the ringtone last night.”

  “Aww, Brent,” I murmur.

  I’d love to listen to the song all day, but Brent silences KC and the boys when he answers the call.

  When he steps away so I can’t hear, I can’t help but wonder, Why the secrecy?

  After another few minutes pass, I’m all like, Crap, I hope he doesn’t really have a puck bunny lined up.

  I know I’m being silly, so I squash that thought. Still, it’s a little worrisome when Brent moves farther away and becomes more deeply engrossed with whomever he’s talking to.

  When he ends the call, he slides the phone back into his jean’s pocket and walks back over to me, beaming. “What’s that smile for?” I ask, wary.

  He grabs me up in his strong, capable arms and says, “Make that call to your boss, babe. You already have another job lined up.”

  “Huh?”

  I peer up at him. He’s never looked as happy, or as handsome, as he does right now.

  God, how did I get so lucky?

  I quickly get back to the point. “What do you mean I have another job lined up?”

  “Well,” he begins, “I spoke with Dolby a few days ago. I asked him about giving you a permanent job with the team, some kind of consulting position, but more office-based than the one you had with me. The guys love you, Aubrey, you know that. And Dolby knows it too. You’d be a good fit with the organization.”

  “What are you getting at, Brent?”

  “Well, that was Dolby on the phone just now. He met with ownership earlier today and there’s an offer on the table for you. If you want it, that is.”

  “What do you mean ‘if I want it’? You bet your hot ass I do.”

  I snuggle in closer, and he murmurs in my hair, “Hot ass, eh?”

  Leaning back, I pretend to push him away. “Stop. You know how I feel about you.”

  “I do, Aubrey. I do.”

  He looks content, but then, as he’s peering down at me, his brow suddenly creases with worry.

  “Hey, you’re not mad I worked on this without talking to you first, are you? I just didn’t want to get your hopes up unnecessarily. But I probably should’ve cleared it with you first.”

  Is he crazy? “Are you crazy?” I say. “I completely understand the need for secrecy on this one. But the bottom line is I’m glad you did whatever you did to get this thing rolling. And for the record, I’m the exact opposite of mad. I’m grateful and happy.”

  And with that, I make the call to my boss. Since there’s no point in flying to LA for two weeks, my resignation is accepted as effective immediately.

  I can’t wait to start my new job…with my new guy…and my new life.

  The Luckiest Guy in the World

  Life with Aubrey is better than ever when her leaving is no longer a concern. And as far as hockey is concerned, the team is on fire.

  Wolves Lead the League

  Who Can Beat this Team?

  Apparently, not many teams can. We roll into April, stacking up victory after victory.

  And then it’s time for the playoffs!

  “No fucking things up this time,” I say to the team before Game One of the first round. We’re in our home locker room, ready to hit the ice against the Arizona Coyotes. “We’ve been here before, boys, and this is where we always forget who we are. That can’t happen, not tonight. And not the next game, either. Let’s go for four in a row and close this thing out fast. Let’s make it to the second round of the playoffs for the first time in Wolves history. Can we do that, eh?”

  “You bet your ass we can!” Benny yells out.

  “Fuck, yeah,” Nolan chimes in.

  There’s a flurry of other assents and agreements, and then the guys start tapping their sticks on the ground, a show of solidarity. I know then that this year is going to be different.

  Turns out, I’m right—we win the first round of the playoffs in what I asked for, four in a row.

  Round two is a little tougher. We’re matched up against the Sharks, and they’re no slouches.

  I prepare for the series, which includes wanting everyone who’s important to me in attendance. My father is feeling fantastic, so he and Mom come into town. I’m more motivated than ever, knowing I came so close to losing my dad. I think about how you can’t put things off in life. If my dream really is for my dad to watch me hoist the Stanley Cup up over my head I better keep my ass focused.

  That’s where Aubrey really helps. She keeps me on task, like always. She also sits with my parents during the games, cheering me and the team on. The love I feel every time I look up in the seats and catch sight of the three most important people in my life is overwhelming. I know what really matters in life now, and no matter what happens in this series I’m still the luckiest guy in the world.

  But, apparently, our team is pretty damn lucky too. We keep on winning. Though maybe it’s not luck, after all. Maybe we’re just a damn good hockey club.

  We win against San Jose in six games and move on to the conference final against the Dallas Stars.

  We take the Stars in seven, and holy shit!

  “We’re going to the Stanley Cup Finals, babe,” I say to Aubrey as I pick her up and spin her around.

  We’re in the team locker room, albeit alone. All the interviews have concluded, so the other players have left.

  When I put her down, I take a seat on the bench and start unlacing my skates. “Let me shower and we can finally get out of here.”

  “Wait.” She wedges her cute little self between my legs and smiles down at me.

  “Oh hell, I know that look,” I say.

  My upper body is already bare and Aubrey traces a finger down my chest, lingering down around my abdomen. “Everyone is gone, right?” she murmurs.

  “Yeah, yeah, they’re gone.” I glance around the empty space. “It’s just you and me.”

  “Hmm, then I have an idea.”

  I suck in a breath when she starts toying with the tie on my hockey pants. “Babe, I’m really sweaty,” I warn her. “I should take a shower first if we’re going to—”

  She silences me with a finger to my lips. “I want you all dirty and sweaty, Captain. I’m not going to Zamboni you, but I want you on top of me, doing what you do best.”

  “Shit.”

  I have Aubrey naked in no time. And then I dirty her up like she wants, on the bench, on the floor, up against the wall…

  A day after we clinch the conference title, the series out in the east ends.

  “Looks like we’ll be playing the Red Wings,” I say to Aubrey, who’s been watching the game while sitting next to me on the sofa.

  “Too bad it isn’t the Blackhawks,” she says. “We could’ve stayed at my place for the games in Chicago.”

  “Hey, speaking of which…” We’ve not yet discussed what to do with Aubrey’s townhouse since she’s no longer living there. “Are you planning on putting your place on the market any time soon?”

  Chewing at her lip, she contemplates my question. “I don’t know, Brent. Should we keep it for when we’re in Chicago? Or, I could maybe rent it out.”

  “It’s up to you, babe.”

  We table that discussion for later, and instead work out the logistics for the upcoming games.

  “I’m glad you have home ice advantage for this series,” Aubrey says. “Playing the first two games here in Vegas will be huge.”

  We’ve built a rather good fan base, so I agree. I then inform Aubrey, “Hey, do you remember that limo driver from the day you first arrived?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “How could I e
ver forget anything about that day, Brent? As I recall, you schmoozed the guy into leaving so you could drive me to your house and torture me along the way.”

  I laugh since she’s so right.

  Scooting over to her, I murmur in her ear, “Hey, it all worked out okay.”

  Leaning her head on my shoulder, she agrees, “It definitely did.”

  After a beat, she pulls back and asks, “Oh, so what were you about to tell me about the driver?”

  “Just that I got him and his kid tickets for the first game.”

  Aubrey sits up straight. “Wow, that was really sweet of you. I remember the driver talking about how he couldn’t afford to take his kid to even a regular season game.”

  “Yeah, he told me the same thing.”

  She places her hand on my cheek, rubbing at the playoff beard I’ve been growing. “You’re a good man, Brent Oliver,” she tells me.

  And, for once, I feel like I am.

  The Best Hat Trick Ever

  We take the Red Wings in seven.

  It’s a grueling, grinding, hard-fought series, but that just makes our victory that much sweeter.

  There is nothing I can compare to the moment I lift the Cup above my head. I look for my dad up in the stands, and when I find him I see he’s crying tears of joy. Mom and Aubrey are there too, hugging and jumping up and down.

  I kiss the Cup…and savor the moment.

  After the initial hubbub wraps up, my family and my girl join me on the ice. We take a bunch of pics with the Stanley Cup. Aubrey even kisses it, just like I did when I held it above my head.

  There’s a parade down the Strip in Las Vegas a few days later. It’s hot as hell, but no one cares.

  We won the motherfucking Stanley Cup!

  Aubrey and I decide to spend the summer in Minneapolis, at my lake house. We’ll come back to Las Vegas in August, before training camp starts. Benny is heading back to his hometown of Surrey, BC for the off-season, and Nolan is spending the summer in Toronto.

  Nolan seems pretty intent on making time to come up to the lake house to visit with us, which is interesting when we find out, after visiting Aubrey’s parents in Pennsylvania, that Lainey plans to stay in Minnesota for a while.

  “Did she get a job there?” I ask Aubrey.

  “Not that I know of,” she tells me.

  “Hmm…”

  Guess I’ll find out this summer if she and Nolan have been dating on the sly. It’ll be hard to keep that shit hidden when he stays with Aubs and me.

  Before we leave Vegas, there’s one thing I want to do—propose to Aubrey. Like I said before, you can’t put things off. I love her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

  I choose an evening when the sunset is stunning for us to drive out to the desert. I take Aubrey to the same spot where we viewed the stars way back in the fall. Only now, instead of a black velvet night sky above our heads, one dotted with a zillion stars, the horizon is streaked in shades of crimson, orange, and purple.

  “God, it’s so pretty out here at this time of the day too,” Aubrey says when we step from the car.

  “It is,” I agree.

  Cocking her head and looking over at me, she asks, “Do you still come out here to think, Brent?”

  “Nah, not as much. But it’s still a special place to me.”

  “It’s becoming special to me too,” she says.

  I know then I’ve chosen the perfect place to ask her to become my wife.

  While she’s smoothing down her short cream-colored dress, I walk out into the desert, where I stealthily remove from a light blue Tiffany’s box a multi-carat diamond set in platinum.

  I bought the ring just the other day, and I sure hope she loves it.

  I set the ring gently on top of a smooth boulder, and then call out, “Hey, Aubs, come check out this neat rock I found over here. It’s crazy-sparkly and really cool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this out in the desert.”

  “Okay, hold on.”

  She makes her way over to me slowly, since she has on sandals with heels. When she reaches me, she says, “I didn’t know we were going hiking, Brent. I would’ve worn something different.”

  “No hiking,” I assure her. “I just want you to see this shiny little stone.”

  She looks down at the boulder just as the setting sun hits the ring. The resulting sparkle is dazzling.

  Looking up at me, she whispers, “Oh my God, Brent. Does this mean what I think it means?”

  I drop to my knees. To hell with sand and pebbles and even the little lizard that just ran by. I’m doing this right.

  Taking her hand, I say, “Aubrey Shelburne, you’re not just the love of my life, you’re my everything. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  With tears in her eyes, she replies with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”

  I stand and pretend I didn’t hear her. Cupping my ear, I lean in close and say, “Wait, what was that?”

  Her arms fly around me. “Yes, yes, yes. I will absolutely marry you, Brent Oliver.”

  As we seal the deal with a kiss, I know for certain that this moment outweighs even winning the Cup. Because now I’ve truly won it all—I’m a Stanley Cup champion, Aubrey said “yes,” and I’m finally the man I was destined to be.

  This is, by far, the best hat trick ever!

  If you enjoyed Destiny on Ice, be on the lookout this spring for the second novel in the Boys of Winter series, Resistance on Ice, which is Nolan’s story.

  S.R. Grey is an Amazon Top 100 and a #1 Barnes & Noble Bestselling author. She is the author of the brand new Boys of Winter hockey romance series, the popular Judge Me Not books, the Promises series, the Inevitability duology, A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy, and the Laid Bare series of novellas. Ms. Grey's works have appeared on multiple Amazon Bestseller lists, including Top 100 several times. She’s also a #1 Bestselling Author on Barnes & Noble and a Top 100 Bestselling Author on iTunes.

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  Maybe the hardest thing to write, next to those blasted blurbs, is this section. I don’t want to miss anyone, and I always fear I might.

  So, here goes everything and nothing….

  Thank you first and foremost to the readers. Without you, I’d have no voice, no stories to share, and, God forbid, there’d probably be no Brent Oliver! GASP! I know, right? See how important you are?

  Next, thanks to all the bloggers and loyal readers of my work. I love you all!!

  Thank you also to Christopher John, who is not only a great photographer, but a friend, as well. Your fabulous photo of Assad Shalhoub, the one that now adorns this cover, captured Brent Oliver so perfectly. Speaking of the cover, big thanks go out to Najla Qamber for designing a book jacket that completely captures the feel of the novel.

  Thank you, Franci N., for taking the first look and giving me early feedback on Brent, Aubrey and the gang. That includes Brent 51 and Al. *insert alligator emoji here*

  Thank you to Kristin S. and the amazing editing team over at Hot Tree Editing. And thanks to Emily and her team at E.M. Tippetts for formatting services that go above and beyond. I always seem to end up in some kind of last-minute panic, and they always calm me down.

  Last, but not least, thank you to my hockey “consultants.” You guys rock!

  If you enjoyed Destiny on Ice, check out S.R. Grey’s standalone New Adult Romance novel, The After of Us.

  When Will Gartner finds out he has a five-year-old precocious little daughter named Lily, his world is turned upside-down.

  Read the first chapter now….

  Will

  “College graduate, that’s me.”

>   It’s so hard to believe that I have to utter those words again, out loud, one more time. And then I need more, just to make it really real.

  Leaning my head back to stare up at an azure-blue sky, I rise up in the seat of the nice, new BMW convertible I’m driving and scream as loudly as I can, “I’m a goddamn college graduate, motherfuckers.”

  Take that, all you pricks who didn’t believe in me.

  I jerk the wheel back just in time to keep from veering off the road, and thus into vast desert nothingness. But yeah, once I’m back on track I think about how no one thought I’d succeed. Not my ex-girlfriend, Cassie, not my mom, and certainly not my stepdad, Greg. I should mention that Greg’s not technically my stepdad. Dude never bothered to “officially” adopt me. Not that it matters, not anymore. I’m about to turn twenty-two.

  I’m all grown up…and a fucking college grad, as established.

  As I hit the gas, the Mojave Desert becomes a hazy blur, my great trek to Las Vegas almost near its end. Yeah, good ole Sin City is where I’m headed. So many Californians take this trip for pleasure. But me, I’m going home.

  I estimate I should hit the state line in about another hour—maybe less, at the rate I’m flying—then I’ll be back in my home state of Nevada. Of course, I won’t be there for long. I’m all set to fly to New York City at the end of the week.

  Shit, I have to laugh. I’m a goddamn coming-home success story, if ever there was one. That’s right—I, Will Gartner, former fuck-up extraordinaire, have not only graduated from a prestigious college—with honors, no less—but I’ve also lined up a sweet-ass job in the largest city in the country.