Kaufman: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 2)

by Nicole Edwards

TAMPA BAY IS A FORMIDABLE opponent. They’ve kept us on our toes for most of the game.

  Having lost the last game we played, the team is going all out tonight. We were a little out of sync during the first period, never quite getting the puck where it needed to be. The second period was only marginally better with Matty scoring one goal. Kingston’s held them back, kept every one of their thirty-six shots on goal out of the net, which proves he’s still the best in the damn league. But now we’re down to the last two minutes of the game, and we have to hold on or a tie is imminent. No one wants to endure those five minutes of overtime, or worse, the shootout, so it’s up to us to hold the line.

  As I sit here on the bench, waiting for the change in lines, I envision the outcome.

  Yeah, I read that book Noelle mentioned.

  Although I found it a little silly, I figure if it’s good enough for her, it’s good enough for me. This season could very well be my last, and I want to go out with a bang. Which means I have to play every game like it’s the playoffs.

  The team shuffles down the bench, bringing me closer to the opening, signaling the next change is my turn again. With Matty and Benne at my side, we’re an invincible line. We’ve got surprise on our side because all three of us are good at what we do. We work together like a well-oiled machine.

  Coach calls the change at the same time Tampa Bay’s right winger takes possession of the puck. I watch as their goalie shoots off the ice, heading for the bench, an extra player coming in. They’ve got an open net, no one there to protect them, but they’ve got six men on the ice. It’s a last-ditch effort to even things up, to keep us from winning.

  Seg’s standing guard, trying to protect Kingston and the goal, but the right wing has some serious puck-handling skill. He shoots forward, tapping the puck between Seg’s legs, taking possession on the other side of his body. Kingston comes out to the edge of the crease, presenting a bigger target but leaving the goal wide open behind him. Their center is in position, gearing up for a rebound.

  This is a brilliant play. It could very well work for them if Kingston doesn’t move fast enough.

  Benne shoots around behind the net, coming up on Kingston’s left at the same time the right wing rears back and nails the puck, sending it right toward the net. It stays level with the ice and is blocked when Benne throws himself down, sliding out in front of Kingston, coming between the goalie and the puck. The move sends the puck directly toward me, no one standing between me and their empty net.

  Every other thought dissipates as the puck hits my stick. In one fluid motion, I turn and shoot, sending the biscuit sailing across open ice until it hits its mark…

  Right.

  In.

  The.

  Net.

  Goal!

  The roaring in my ears isn’t only the sound of my teammates, it’s also my heart beating a million miles a second, sending the blood rushing through me, the adrenaline spiking. It’s an incredible feeling every damn time. Not once in the eighteen years since I’ve played in the NHL has it felt any different.

  Now, we simply have to hold them off for the next twenty-eight seconds. That might not seem like a long time, but when it comes to maintaining that win, it’s an eternity.

  Noelle’s Journal

  Dear Universe,

  I’m seriously questioning your motives right now. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, either. On another note, did you see that game? Spencer was hot. I mean awesome. He was awesomely hot.

  Spencer: What are you wearing?

  Noelle: Who dis? New phone.

  Spencer: Funny girl. I’m thinking up your punishment right now.

  Noelle: Punishment. Ooh. I like the sound of that. And if you must know, I’m wearing a Tampa Bay jersey. You broke my heart by slaughtering them tonight.

  Spencer: Keep it up. The punishment is only going to be harsher.

  Noelle: Bring it on, big C. I’m all yours. And I lied. I’m wearing an Arrows jersey. You see, I know this guy who plays. He’s pretty good. I’ve sported the #7 for a long, long time.

  Spencer: Wait till I get back to Austin. I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours. But don’t worry, I’ll let you keep the jersey on. But nothing else.

  33

  Noelle

  Wednesday, December 7th

  “A REAL DATE?” I ASK, mocking Ellie’s sincere astonishment.

  She purses her lips and rolls her eyes. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

  I laugh. “Who’s ruining it? You’re the one who’s so surprised Kingston wants to take you out.”

  I’m standing at the bar while Ellie fills one of the drink orders I placed. She brought up the fact that Kingston wants to take her out on Friday, but she seems completely oblivious to why he would do that.

  “And yes, before you ask,” I tell her, “I’ll man the fort. You take the night off, enjoy yourself while I bust my hump here.” The smile I can’t resist making doesn’t help with my false indignation.

  “Oh, hush. You know I’ll return the favor.”

  “It’s not about favors, sweetie. It’s about friendship. I’m here for you, the same way you’re here for me.”

  Her smile is genuine. “True.”

  “Okay then.” I grab the drinks and place them on the tray. “Friday night. Ellie’s got a hot date. I’m gonna hang out with Chef Diva.” I glance at her over my shoulder. “On second thought … maybe you will owe me a favor.”

  Without waiting for her to respond, I head out to deliver the drinks, noticing a group of guys coming in the door. My eyes instantly lock on the sexiest of the bunch before I realize I’m grinning like a loon. Spencer’s eyes meet mine, and I nearly spill the drinks, something I haven’t done in at least ten years.

  I barely recover, passing them off to the customers, then turning back toward the kitchen. Ellie’s deep in conversation with a couple of ladies sitting at the bar.

  A naughty thought occurs to me then. Before I can stop myself, I catch Spencer’s gaze before heading down the hallway toward the restrooms. As I hoped, he’s not too far behind me.

  “You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”

  Clearly the man can read my mind.

  Taking his hand while the hallway is empty, I pull him into the bathroom and lock the door. Instantly, I’m kissing him, letting my hands roam up beneath his shirt to feel his warm skin. I haven’t seen him in a few days because they were on the road, and I need my fix.

  “If you’re gonna greet me like this every time I come back into town, I’m going to suggest more road games.”

  I chuckle but pull his mouth back to mine, practically inhaling him.

  His hands work up my thighs to the hem of the short jean skirt I’m wearing tonight. Before I know what’s happening, Spencer turns me away from him. I slap my palms on the tiled wall as he pushes up against me.

  “Won’t be long until someone needs in here,” he groans. “I fully intend to fuck you before that happens.”

  I can’t speak, my body primed and ready for him to do just that. The sound of the foil condom wrapper registers, followed by the sound of his zipper lowering. Then finally, Spencer’s pulling my panties to the side and…

  I cover my mouth with my hand and moan as the glorious length of him fills me from behind.

  His mouth is on my neck, his teeth nipping as he pushes inside me. He thrusts a few times but then backs up, pulling me with him. I’m forced to bend over, keeping myself upright by reaching out to the wall.

  The sounds of his muted groans and my soft whimpers echo in the small room, but I don’t care at the moment. He feels so good, the way he slams into me over and over. His need matches mine; the desperation I sense in him makes my body soar higher. I like that he can’t seem to get enough.

  “Fuck,” he groans, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Not gonna last,
Noelle.”

  His words are low, but they seem so loud. I try to ignore it, try not to think about someone standing on the other side of that door listening to us.

  But then he reaches around, his fingers finding my clit, and all thought is obliterated. The only thing that matters is the orgasm clawing its way through me.

  I grunt and slam back against him, letting myself go. I’m light-headed, but it doesn’t matter. Seconds later, Spencer’s hips punch into me one last time, stilling as his dick pulses inside me.

  While I try to catch my breath, Spencer removes the condom, flushes it, then rights both of our clothes. He kisses me again, and I sigh against him.

  “I missed you,” he whispers softly.

  “I missed you, too.” It’s true. I did.

  “I’m not sure how much more pretending I can do,” he says softly, pulling back and pinning me with his troubled gaze.

  “I know. But we have to. For a little while longer.” He looks disappointed. “Please.”

  A short nod is all he offers, but then he kisses me again. Softly, reverently.

  “I better get out there before someone comes looking for you.”

  “Okay.”

  When he releases me, I have to use the wall to hold me up. I smile at him as he moves to the door.

  Spencer glances back at me over his shoulder. “I’m coming over tonight.”

  I nod.

  Seriously.

  What else am I going to do?

  Spencer

  IT’S NOT EASY SITTING IN the restaurant and watching Noelle work, all while pretending that I didn’t just fuck her senseless in the ladies’ restroom. She more than stunned me as soon as those sparkling blue eyes met mine, a look of pure seduction on her face. I can read the woman fairly well, so I knew immediately what she wanted.

  The same thing I did, obviously.

  But now I have to sit here like a good boy and watch her flit about the room, chatting it up with customers, her smile so bright it’s hard to look at her. What I really want to do is to stake my claim on her. I want to let every person in this entire place know that she’s mine.

  One of these days, I’m going to slip. I can’t keep it a secret much longer. I don’t quite understand why she still insists, but I respect her enough to go along with it.

  I peer up at the bar and notice my sister looking my way. Ellie’s gaze slides over to Noelle, then back to me. I think she’s figured it out, but for whatever reason, she’s not saying anything. More than likely, she’s waiting for Noelle to tell her. That or she’s so caught up in Kingston nothing else matters right now.

  I look away, hoping not to give it away for Noelle’s sake.

  Two hours later, I’m following Noelle into her apartment. She grabbed some cheeseburgers and fries before she left the Penalty Box so we could have dinner together. I didn’t bother to mention that someone was probably going to question who she was planning to eat with, though. If the cook tells Ellie, my sister’s going to know.

  While Noelle grabs a glass of wine for herself and a beer for me, I drag the food out of the bags and dump it onto the plates she set out. I notice she’s rubbing her forehead when she comes back.

  “Headache?”

  She holds out her hand, her index finger and thumb a small distance apart. “Just a little.”

  As I look closer, I realize she looks tired. “Sit down and eat. When you’re done, I’ll give you a massage.”

  Her golden eyebrows lift. She seems pleased by the idea.

  It doesn’t take long for us to finish off the food. When she tries to go to the kitchen to clean up, I send her the other way with a quick swat on her butt.

  “Ow,” she grumbles, grinning. “You don’t have to do that, really.”

  “I’m not asking permission,” I tell her. “Sit on the couch. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Five minutes later, I join her, pulling her against me when I spread out, my back against the arm. She reclines on my chest, and I start rubbing her shoulders while she flips through the channels. She’s worse than I am with the remote, never stopping to check anything out. Noelle finally ends up on a hockey game. I don’t mind because I can pay attention without really paying attention.

  Not ten minutes later, she’s snoring softly, her head falling back against my shoulder.

  I stop moving, wrapping my arms around her and holding her there.

  I could get used to this. It doesn’t seem to matter where we are, when I’m with Noelle, my life is better. She makes me smile, makes me laugh. Of course, she makes me so damn horny I can hardly stand myself, but this is good, too.

  In fact, it’s better than good.

  If only I could figure out a way to make this a permanent thing, I’d be doing well.

  Noelle’s Journal

  Dear Universe,

  Hmm.

  On a positive note, keep doing what you’re doing. I’m not sure I understand it, but I think it’s working. Thanks.

  34

  Noelle

  Friday, December 9th

  BECAUSE MY BEST FRIEND HAS an official date tonight—her words—I’m holding down the fort at the Penalty Box. When she mentioned that Kingston wanted to wine and dine her, I told her to get her swerve on and enjoy herself.

  So, here I am, hanging out with several hockey players and a roomful of people who are eager to see the team mingling with the common folk. And to think, this is my job. I freaking love it.

  To top it off, Spencer’s here, which makes the night even better. We’re doing our own form of dating right now, which consists of me serving him beer, him watching me work, and a whole lot of heated glances that I hope no one notices. It’s working for us, so I’m certainly not complaining.

  As the night wears on, the crowd starts to thin, but not enough for me to let any of the extra waitresses go. Julie’s here, manning the bar while I help out in the kitchen. We’re busy, but it’s not overwhelming. I wouldn’t mind a few minutes to get off my feet, but I won’t complain. Everyone else is working their butts off; it’s only fair that I do, too.

  The restaurant phone rings, letting out a high-pitched wail from the handset on the wall. I’m the closest, so I grab it.

  “The Penalty Box,” I greet cheerfully.

  “May I speak to Ellie?”

  “She’s not in tonight. Can I take a message?”

  “Yeah … uh… Could you tell her to call James?”

  My heart stops beating in my chest.

  If the guy had said Tom or Matt or … hell, any other incredibly common name, I wouldn’t think anything of it.

  But James.

  “James who?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

  “James Heron. I can leave my phone number.”

  “Hold on.” I grab my order pad and a pen out of my apron. “Okay, go ahead.”

  I jot down the number as he rattles it off. It’s not a local area code, I notice.

  “Can I tell her what this is about?” Yes, I’m being nosy.

  “It’s a personal call. It’s about … Bianca. I promise, I’m not a stalker or anything like that. I was told to call this number.”

  My legs feel weak and I don’t know what else to say.

  “Please,” he notes. “Just have her call me as soon as she can. I’d really like to talk to her.”

  “Absolutely,” I choke out. “I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

  I hang up the phone and stare at it for a minute, shocked out of my mind. My best friend is going to get the shock of her life tonight because…

  That was her daughter’s father.

  The man she hasn’t seen since the night she got pregnant … thirteen years ago.

  Crap.

  I have to call Ellie.

  I race out to the bar to find my cell phone, but I�
�m too nervous to remember where I put it, so I grab the phone there.

  Before I can place the call, I see Spencer saunter up to the bar, his hands coming down on the top as he watches me curiously.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  I meet his eyes. No, I’m not okay. I shake my head, but I mean to nod.

  “Is something wrong? What happened, Noelle?”

  “Nothing,” I blurt. “I need to call Ellie.”

  He continues to watch me as I dial the phone. I hate interrupting Ellie’s date, but this is the type of news she needs like yesterday.

  “This is Ellie,” she greets, sounding so cheerful it makes my stomach hurt.

  “I’m so sorry to call you,” I tell her, my voice low, my words coming out in a rush. I can feel Spencer watching me. I wish I had a little more privacy, but this can’t wait another second. “But it’s important, too important to wait until tomorrow. Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Yes.”

  “God, Ellie, I’m still in shock.” I do my best not to pay attention to Spencer standing in front of me.

  “Okay.”

  Taking a deep breath, I decide to be out with it. “James called. The bar. He called.”

  “I’m … uh … I’m not sure I understand.”

  “James,” I repeat. “His last name’s Heron. He gave me his phone number and asked that I have you call him back. I asked him what the call was about and he said … Bianca.” I can’t believe Ellie’s not saying anything. “Did you hear what I said? James Heron, Bianca’s father, wants to talk to you.”

  “Yes, I heard you.”

  “Do you want the number so you can call him tonight?”

  “No, now’s probably not a good time.”

  If I were Ellie, I’d already be on the phone with the guy just to find out how, after all this time, he managed to track her down. I mean, there’s no way this guy could’ve known she got pregnant after one night together in Vegas. But I’m not Ellie, and other than being there for her, there’s not much else I can do.