by Amber Lynn
“Hallelujah, to you being too busy to tie my tie. Now I just have to figure out which tie to wear. How about the one you got me for Father’s Day when we were stationed at Fort Bliss?”
Casey groaned. Holcomb told time by what base he was stationed. Fort Bliss had been when she was six, and the tie in question was covered with cartoon rabbits.
“I bet people would pay to see you wear that tie. I can’t believe you kept that thing.”
“You know I keep everything you give me. I just don’t use most of the items you and Mary picked out when you were a kid.”
Mary was an Army wife whose family seemed to move around in sync with the Holcombs. It had been over a year since Casey had gotten in touch with anyone in the Hart family. Making a call to check in was added to her to-do list.
“Take my advice, and wear the tie you wear every year. If you show up with rabbits on, I’ll make a scene, and neither one of us want that.”
“No, we don’t. I’ve kept you long enough. Drive safely and try to eat something that will stick to your bones. You’re getting too skinny.”
Casey smiled, but didn’t touch the skinny comment. Holcomb was always on her to eat, and she didn’t want to draw attention to her weight.
“I’ll eat a carton of ice cream for dinner tonight just for you.”
She sunk down in her car as she spoke. Holcomb returned her smile and shut the door. Casey waved as she started the car and pulled out of the lot. Ice cream for dinner sounded great, but the only thing in her future was her head hitting her pillows.
Chapter Three
Practice the next day was voluntary. Dylan thought about skipping it for the first time since turning pro, but he had to be at the arena that afternoon to meet Holcomb, so he rolled out of bed and headed to his office.
When only five guys showed up to practice, it wasn’t more than drills. It gave Dylan a chance to work on his penalty shot. For some reason he’d never been good at them. With the backup goaltender in net, he didn’t get too excited about making seventy percent of the shots he took. Klinger was their third goalie, and he was okay, but Doug would’ve saved more of the shots.
Dylan thought about how much better he would’ve been if he had his motivational speaker at the practice. She could’ve told him everything he did wrong.
“I’m surprised more people didn’t come in today to hear what the boss has to say behind closed doors. I know that’s the only reason I showed up.”
Nelson caught up to Dylan as he was doing laps around the rink. He needed to jump in the shower before heading upstairs, but he still had almost an hour to kill.
“You’re only here because your sister got word that you were going to a party tonight without her and she would’ve taken both you and your credit cards shopping if you didn’t convince her you had to be here.” Dylan was still laughing at the dismay etched in Nelson’s face as he relayed his tale of woe.
“Don’t remind me of the horrible night I had. I don’t know how she found out, but I wish she hadn’t. If you weren’t a factor, it’d probably be okay, but then again, it’d probably be someone else.”
“Hey, I have nothing to do with whatever craziness you’re dealing with.”
Dylan skated over to the bench and grabbed one of the clear water bottles set along the edge. He squirted a little on his face, and then took a big swig, spitting a little on the ice next to him.
“You have everything to do with the crazy things that go on in her head. You’ve barely said ten words to her since you met, and you’d think you recited love poems underneath her window each night.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
Most of the time when Nelson mentioned Steph, Dylan thought he was kidding about her antics. He’d never done anything to show he was even the slightest bit interested, because he had a rule about not dating teammate’s family members, and frankly Steph just wasn’t his type.
“I’m not. She has it in her mind that you’re going to be there tonight, so her whole day is filled with hair and nail appointments, followed by some epic shopping spree.”
“Maybe I should stay home. I don’t particularly like going to these kinds of things anyway.”
The team had been on the road the past three years that the event had been held. Dylan liked the cause they were raising money for, so he thought giving up a free night he would’ve spent at home was a good idea. If Steph was going to flaunt herself the whole night, Dylan thought writing a big check and mailing it was a logical course of action.
“Don’t be a baby. Chances are she won’t be the only one trying to get your attention.”
“And I imagine the woman of my dreams won’t be in the mix. Do you think Holcomb would be upset if I didn’t show up?” The person in charge of the event was the only thing keeping Dylan from instantly pulling the plug.
“I’m only going because you’re going to be there, and I have to go now that Steph knows. That means you’re going.”
Everyone else had left the ice, and more than likely left the arena, unless they really were waiting around to hear why Holcomb wanted to talk to Dylan. Dylan didn’t think that was the case, but one of the team’s gossips had come in for practice when he normally wouldn’t have.
He decided he’d wait to hear what Holcomb had to say before making a decision. For all he knew, Holcomb wanted to auction off a date with him, or something equally ridiculous. That had been an option he’d come up with as he tried to fall asleep. He figured the need to talk hours before the big event probably meant it had something to do with the ball.
“Steph isn’t my problem. I have a whole list of excuses you can give her if I decide not to go.”
“You’re going. Why don’t we hit the showers, so you can head upstairs and get your meeting over with? I’m sure you’re going to need hours to get in your monkey suit for tonight.” Nelson playfully nudged Dylan as he headed to the locker room.
“That’s you who takes hours to get your hair just right. You’d think it’d be hard to do much with that mop on your head, but somehow you manage it.”
Dylan followed Nelson off the ice. If he took a slow shower, he could be fashionably early for his meeting. Fashionably worked for people being late, and since Dylan refused to be late, he liked to pair the word with early.
“You wouldn’t think that if you were one of the people who thought I actually curled this mess. Steph’s hair would look just like this if she didn’t spend two hours with a flat iron. It’s the curse of being our mother’s kids.”
“You both have the option of shearing the curls. It might be good for you, so our opponents don’t see you coming.”
Nelson had a wicked hip check that the other players had started avoiding. After being on the receiving end of a few of them, Dylan didn’t blame anyone who made a quick move to get out of his way.
“No can do. Women love the hair, and I’m a big believer in making women happy.”
Dylan rolled his eyes as he sat down and started striping off his practice gear. With it only being an optional practice, he’d left off most of the extra padding he wore during a game or full-contact practice.
“I’m an expert in what happens when they turn on you, so if you’re trying to make sure certain women are happy, tread lightly. You don’t want the world to think you’re a sex addict who has a secret sex dungeon in your basement.”
Not that it was horrible that people thought that. Dylan could care less about what ninety-nine percent of the population thought. He blamed the rumors for the increased female attention, though. If they didn’t think he was promiscuous, they wouldn’t hound him as much.
“I’ve never asked you whether the dungeon exists. I’ve just assumed it doesn’t since you haven’t offered to let your best friend borrow it.”
“Do people let their friends borrow their sex dungeons?”
Dylan wasn’t aware that was a thing, which spoke to the fact that he wasn’t really part of that scene. He knew Nelson was jus
t kidding about not knowing whether it existed. They were close enough that Dylan didn’t think he could hide a secret love shack.
“Who knows? I just like to watch your face when you start thinking about the possibilities. If any of those ‘reporters’ asked you for a comment, they’d realize quickly just how vanilla you were when it came to that kind of stuff.”
“Hey, I’m hip enough that I know what vanilla means.”
Dylan was down to his tighty whities, so after stripping out of them he grabbed his shower bag and headed to wash up. Nelson laughed at him as he went.
The shower was a big open area with showerheads every three feet, definitely not something fancy. White tiles lined the walls and floor of the space, and privacy was non-existent. Some people had a problem with that, but Dylan was comfortable with the way he looked.
He put his bag on a hook and grabbed his shampoo, which doubled as body wash. Technically the bottle didn’t say it had dual uses, he just didn’t see a reason to bring multiple containers when one would do the job.
After testing the water and getting it to a comfortable temperature, Dylan got to work. Even though he planned to take a slow shower, he was an in-and-out kind of guy, which meant four minutes later he was done. Nelson had just walked in the room as Dylan wrapped his towel around his waist.
“I can’t believe you don’t let the water work out the knots a little bit more. I know you have to have aches and pains just like the rest of us.”
“Of course I have them. I think a hot tub is a little more useful than a shower. Right this second, I just want to get this meeting over with so I can grab something to eat and figure out if I need to go into witness protection for missing the ball.”
“You are not missing that ball, dude. There ain’t a hole you can hide in if you don’t show up.”
Nelson had started lathering up as he spoke, so Dylan took his bag and made his way back out to his clothes.
“Maybe the meeting is to request I stay home.” It was a longshot, but Nelson couldn’t complain if his invitation was rescinded.
“Then I hope you don’t mind hosting your own mini ball at your place tonight, because Steph is dressing up and she wants you to see her.”
“You can’t honestly want her to hook up with someone from the team, right? I mean, you spend enough time with us that you know how depraved we all are.”
The shower bag was tossed in his locker as Dylan quickly toweled off and slipped into his suit. On most practice days he didn’t go all out with a jacket and tie, but meeting the boss required the works.
“Honestly, I want her out of my condo sooner rather than later. I was having a great time living the bachelor life, up until she showed up on my doorstep.”
“Last I checked she has a job, right? Tell her to get a place of her own.” Dylan didn’t understand why Nelson hadn’t put his foot down from the beginning. Steph was a few years younger than them, but she was old enough to have a place of her own.
“The chances of her accidently running into you is ‘greatly diminished’ if she isn’t living with your best friend. Yes, that is a direct quote. I put money in her bank account on a regular basis in hopes she takes the hint and finds her own place. Shoot, I’ve even taken her apartment hunting.”
Dylan didn’t have to be in the same room to imagine the air quotes Nelson was sure to have done while he spoke. Dylan thought they were silly, and was happy he hadn’t witnessed them.
“And the fact that we’re best friends is exactly the reason why I don’t date your sister. Chances are good things wouldn’t work out, and then I’d have to worry about all my real secrets being revealed to the world.”
Nelson snorted as he walked to his stall. “The most scandalous thing I got on you is the fact that you have a thing for a woman you’ve never met. As far as Steph, I relay what she tells me, but I know the two of you wouldn’t last. You’re too different for things to work.”
“I assume you’ve told her that.”
Dylan glanced down at his phone and saw he still had about twenty minutes. Walking at a snail’s pace, he could probably make the trek to Holcomb’s office last ten minutes.
Holcomb had been nice enough to email a map to his office. The locker room was circled and marked “you are here.” Holcomb’s office said “you need to be here.” Evidently Holcomb knew Dylan would be in the locker room before meeting him.
“I’ve explained the reasons I think she should move on, but she’s still young and has stars in her eyes.”
“She’s three years younger than you, and has lived most of her life with you. How can she not realize the reason I’ve avoided your place since she moved in was because I’m not interested?”
“I don’t know how the female mind works. All I know is that she thinks she’s in love with a hockey superstar.”
That seemed to be the case for half of the female fans who came to every game. It had been that way for Dylan ever since his college days.
“On that note, I think I’ll head upstairs. Hopefully if I get there early, it means I can leave early.”
Nelson still had a white towel hung around his waist. Dylan knew he was going to take his time and wait around to hear what Holcomb thought was important enough to schedule a private meeting. He’d been nice enough not to throw out any last minute crazy ideas.
“Have fun. I’ll take the long way around to get to my car and meet you there.”
Dylan nodded and took off for his own long way around to get to Holcomb’s office. A small part of him wanted to head straight to his car. Holcomb couldn’t really fire him because of his contract, but he could suspend him for a few games. As late as it was in the season, a few games could end up making a big difference, so the brief idea of running didn’t last long.
Being one of the first to the arena and the last to leave on game days meant Dylan was used to the emptiness that surrounded him on his way. There were times when they had other events going on in the arena, but with a game the next day, nothing was happening.
As Dylan got closer to the management offices, he picked up noises that indicated people were alive and kicking. Various voices went about their business behind office doors. A particular one perked his interest and his heartbeat sped up.
“I’ve been running around all day and have one more meeting to get to before tonight. Why can’t you just say what you wanted to say and let me get back to my day? Sitting here staring at each other is fun and exciting, but you know I hate sitting still.”
The woman’s voice didn’t seem as harsh as it usually was, but Dylan would know the voice anywhere. It was a little surreal to hear it within a few feet. He let the voice lead him straight to Holcomb’s closed office door.
Knocking would’ve been proper, but Dylan had waited for months to meet the woman behind the voice, and he was scared she’d somehow get away. So, he opened the door quickly without stepping into the room.
Holcomb’s desk was set up to the left of the room, with Holcomb facing the door. The woman sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk had her back to Dylan. The door opening hadn’t alerted her of his presence, but Holcomb’s eyes briefly darted his way.
“You’re just in time, Dylan. If I had to amuse Casey for another minute, I’m afraid she would’ve left without letting me say my piece.”
As Holcomb spoke, the redhead turned in her chair to look towards the door. Her green eyes widened when she saw Dylan. It wasn’t the starry eyed, instant love gaze he usually saw, which was a relief. He hoped his eyes weren’t portraying the very look he hated seeing.
Dylan hurried to catalog every feature he could. Her skin was pale, but her cheeks were slightly rosy and were getting redder as she sat there. She had a thin face, with a narrow nose that fit perfectly on it. Her lips were red with lipstick and full looking. To make sure he didn’t think about those lips too long, he quickly turned his attention to Holcomb.
“Sorry, I should’ve knocked, but your email this morning reminde
d me that when you say two-thirty, you mean it. I’m probably a minute or so early, but that’s a nasty habit I have.”
“Since when do you invite players up to your office?”
Her voice was even more enchanting up close. Something about the raspy deepness of it appealed to Dylan.
“There’s a first time for everything. Why don’t you come in and sit down, Dylan. I promised you both this wouldn’t take long.”
Dylan wasn’t sure it was the best time to bring up the woman’s taunts. He wanted to know who she was and more about her to figure out just how deep her projected anger towards him really went. She’d shown no signs of being impressed by his presence.
He made his way into the room and took the offered seat. There was a light floral fragrance that he assumed was from the woman. Dylan wasn’t hip on flowers, so he didn’t know exactly what it was.
She’d turned back to look at Holcomb. It was difficult for him to follow her lead, but he managed to look at the big man. Dylan was glad he’d decided on the suit, because as expected, Holcomb was wearing one. The woman was in black dress pants and a deep purple button-up top with the top two buttons undone.
“What could you possibly need us both here for? Please tell me you’re not going senile.”
Yelling insults at Dylan while he was on the ice was one thing. To say something like that to Holcomb seemed unwise, not that Dylan thought Holcomb would haul off and punch her. He probably could hold a pretty good grudge, though.
“I’ve got at least a decade before you can put me in a home, princess. I’ve decided to switch things up for the ball tonight and make sure you aren’t stuck with me as a date. Since Dylan didn’t RSVP with a plus one, I assume he’s available to escort you.”
Holcomb looked at Dylan expectantly, while Dylan worked to find his tongue. The princess and date parts had caused even more confusion than finding the girl of his dreams sitting in Holcomb’s office.
