The Hardest Shot: Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 7

by Samantha Lind

  The Hardest Shot

  Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 7

  Samantha Lind

  samanthalind.com

  The Hardest Shot

  Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 7

  Copyright Samantha Lind 2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.

  Trademarked names appear throughout this novel. These names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intentional infringement of the trademark owner’s trademark(s).

  The following story contains adult language and sexual situations and is intended for adult readers.

  Cover Design by Jersey Girl Design

  Cover Photograph by Wander Aguiar

  Cover Models Zack Salaun and Adrea N.

  Editing by All About The Edits

  Proofreading by Proof Before You Publish

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Beckett

  2. Julia

  3. Beckett

  4. Julia

  5. Beckett

  6. Julia

  7. Beckett

  8. Julia

  9. Beckett

  10. Julia

  11. Beckett

  12. Julia

  13. Beckett

  14. Julia

  15. Beckett

  16. Julia

  17. Beckett

  18. Julia

  19. Beckett

  20. Julia

  21. Beckett

  22. Julia

  23. Beckett

  Afterword

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Samantha Lind

  About the Author

  To all those that love my Eagles Series. This one is for you!

  Prologue

  Beckett

  “Good job today,” Matt tells me as we leave the ice from practice. “You’ve improved so much since we started working together this summer.”

  “Thanks, Coach,” I reply, dumping cold water down my neck before squeezing some into my mouth.

  “You keep playing like this, and you’ll be starting more and more games this season.”

  “That’s my goal. Not that I want to put Tyler out of a job or anything, but that’s the ultimate goal.”

  “I understand that sentiment,” he agrees. “Well, hit the showers and I’ll see you tomorrow for morning skate. I can’t believe tomorrow night is already the home opener of the season.”

  I start removing all my pads and hanging them up in my locker. “You and me both.”

  Once showered and changed, I leave the rink and stop at a coffee shop to pick up something to drink and eat before heading to the condo I share with Johnathan Camps, one of the more veteran players on the team.

  I pull into the parking lot and head inside. The place is pretty packed for the middle of the day on a weekday. I stand in line, looking over the menu and minding my own business, when I hear my name being called from somewhere behind me. I don’t really know many people in town yet, outside of my teammates and other people associated with the team, so maybe it isn’t me they’re calling.

  “Beckett?” I hear again. “Is that you?”

  Her. I turn toward the voice that has haunted my dreams since I first heard it all those weeks ago. The one I’ve dreamed of, and gotten off to, many nights. The one girl I can never touch because of who she is.

  I turn to find my coach’s bombshell of a daughter standing behind me in line. “Hi, Julia.”

  I do my best to discreetly gaze down her curvy body. The one I’d love to get my hands on, and under me. Fuck, I can’t go there, I tell myself, willing my cock not to harden in my shorts. “How are you?” I finally ask, and she smiles up at me.

  “Good, how are you? How’s the knee been?”

  “It’s been great, no more issues. Just a fluke incident.” I move up to the register and order. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” she says, waving me off.

  “I insist,” I reply. “Think of it as a thank you for making sure I didn’t mess up my knee.”

  She looks up at me, an eyebrow raised, as though considering my request. “Okay,” she finally concedes, and tells the barista her order.

  With our drinks and pastries in hand, we find a table in the corner.

  “Are you ready for the home opener tomorrow night?” she asks after taking a bite of her cake pop.

  “Yep. I’m not playing, just riding the bench as of now.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Sometimes it can get in my head. I’ve been the starting goalie in Champaign for the last two seasons, but this is the ultimate goal, to be in the NHL. Even if that means riding the bench for a good percentage of the season. And Tyler is a badass goalie, and he’s earned the starting position. I just hope to be as good as him one day,” I tell her honestly. I’m a little shocked how easy it is to talk to her; I’ve never found that with the girls who want to be around me.

  “I can understand that predicament. You don’t want your friend to mess up bad enough that you get to play, but at the same time, you want to make a name for yourself and get the playing time you deserve.”

  “Exactly,” I agree as I finish off my coffee. “How’s work going for you?”

  “So busy. I was worried when I first started that it would take a while to get a full load of clients, but that’s the benefit of working in one of the busiest clinics in the city. They just assign clients to me as they call in, based on what their injuries and therapy needs are. We’ve got therapists that specialize in every kind of therapy, so we can see a good range of different patients.”

  “And you specialize in what?”

  “General rehabilitation. I get a lot of post-surgery patients.”

  “What made you want to become a physical therapist?”

  “Growing up with a dad who played professional sports, I saw firsthand the injuries all the players dealt with, and how important the therapy staff was for them. At first, I thought of applying with some sports teams, but decided I wanted to come back home and have the steadiness of a clinic job. I love traveling, but the thought of doing so with a sports team, most likely a men’s team of some kind, doesn’t sound all that appealing to me. I had enough of that, being assigned to the men’s football team in college. I’ve seen the inside of a locker room enough already to know I have no desire to work inside one all the time. No offense, but they’re kind of disgusting.”

  “None taken,” I tell her, laughing at the face she’s making. “And I agree, they can be quite gross.”

  “How do you deal with it?” she asks.

  “It’s just part of the game. No locker room, no team. They just go hand in hand.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Are you enjoying the group that makes up the Eagles this season?”

  “Yes, they’re all great guys. Mark is a great captain so far, and Brian and Austin are adjusting well to being the assistant captains. I think they’ll make a good leadership team as the season moves forward.”

>   “I noticed that for the preseason games. Even with the losses, you guys looked great out there. Must have felt good to be in the net for the only preseason win?”

  “You watch the games?” I ask in shock.

  “I wouldn’t miss one,” she tells me. “It’s ingrained in me. Even when the team is on the road, I do my best to catch every game. Once I was old enough to stay up for the later games, it became a tradition for my mom and me. We’d watch the games together, eating our junk food or takeout.”

  “Do you come to the home games?”

  “Most of the time. I like to sit down in the stands rather than the family suite. I like being amongst the fans. I just use my dad’s tickets since my mom prefers to be up in the suite with all the other wives and girlfriends.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah, Dad’s seats have been the same as long as I can remember, so I know most of the people who have seats around them since they’re all season ticket holders. We definitely have a good time each game.”

  “My parents are looking forward to getting to a few games this season.”

  “Do they still live in Sweden?” she asks.

  “They do,” I confirm, a little shocked she knows where I’m from.

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Of course. It’s home. I usually go back in the summer, but had to forgo this summer, so it’s been over a year since I’ve been home. My mom wasn’t too happy about that, but also understood that I had to stay to work on conditioning myself and secure that roster spot.”

  “How long have you lived in the States?” she asks as she finishes off her drink.

  “I moved here when I was seventeen to play in the juniors, so, five years ago.”

  “We’re the same age.”

  “Is that so?” I muse.

  “Beckett, I’m going to be straightforward here. Would you like to grab some dinner sometime?”

  Her question catches me off guard for a second. “I’d love that,” I finally tell her.

  The smile that lights up her face tells me I made the right call and that this feeling of attraction probably isn’t one-sided. I just have to figure out how to convince her we have to keep this relationship platonic, and in the friend zone. There’s no way I can fuck up my chances of getting a starting position with the Eagles, and the fastest way to do that is to sleep with my coach’s daughter.

  Chapter One

  Beckett

  I skate around the rink, taking in the fans as they stand along the boards, watching as we warm up for the game. Tonight is the home opener. A new season. A new run for the cup. And a shit ton of changes to a well-oiled team. With the loss of multiple players over the summer due to trades and retirements, our preseason was spent learning how to work together while the coaching staff worked out which players would work best together on the ice. Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about that. My place is between the pipes. Riding the bench will be my new normal, only getting the start every few games. I came to terms with that over the summer, but ever since I was about five and first strapped on skates, it’s been my dream to make it to the NHL. The big league. And here I am. A permanent spot on the Eagles roster.

  I fling a puck at the empty net as I skate past, something I’ve done every time I warm up. The only time I purposely allow a puck to slide over the goal line. It is, however, a goal of mine to score in a professional game before my career is over. It doesn’t happen often, but a handful of goalies have goals accredited to them.

  With the banners dropped and the celebration for last season’s win finished, the puck is finally dropped, and the season has officially started. I hold down my position at the end of the bench and watch as my team fights for domination on the ice. Unfortunately for us, we quickly let in a cheap goal from one of Nashville’s forwards, putting us down within the first five minutes. Things mellow out for the remainder of the period and Austin Jones, our new assistant captain, scores on the first possession of the second period.

  “Nice goal,” I tell him when he skates by, high fiving everyone sitting on the bench. He tosses the puck to one of the equipment guys.

  “Can you put that aside for me, please? I want it for my little girl,” he says, before turning his attention to me. “Thanks, man. Now,” he adds, between gulps of Gatorade, “to get another one to get us the lead.” He tosses his bottle back in the holder, then skates off to take his position for the puck drop.

  The game continues at the same pace, each team trying to force the other to make one minor mistake they can capitalize on and get us out of the one-one tie we’ve been in for going on a period and a half. That one little mistake comes when Brian Kelley, one of our veteran players, gets called on a cheap penalty. He argues his case the entire way to the box, trying to state it wasn’t his stick that clipped the Nashville player in the face, it was the guy’s own stick, but the ref doesn’t care.

  The puck is dropped, and the Nashville center wins the draw. He immediately passes the puck to one of his teammates, who takes off for the net, and everyone follows after him. Thankfully, Tyler is able to fend off the guy’s slap shot, but the rebound lands directly on another Nashville player’s stick and they crash the net. The puck sails over Tyler’s shoulder as he goes down hard onto the ice. The ref immediately blows his whistle and motions no goal due to goaltender interference, much to the dismay of the Nashville team.

  Tyler jumps up, shaking his head side to side. It looked like a nasty hit, but nothing neither one of us hasn’t taken many times before. Half the time, we don’t even get the interference call, so thankfully, the refs saw it and called it tonight.

  The game clock ticks down, with both teams battling hard to get the two points at the end of the night, and with the power play time left on the clock after Brian’s penalty ends, we’re able to score the game winning goal.

  Now, that’s how you start a new season.

  Chapter Two

  Julia

  I sit in the stands and watch as the guys pull off the home opener win. I love the atmosphere this building brings. The nostalgia I feel each time I take a seat and watch as this team dominates on the ice. Things have definitely changed over the years. I was young, maybe eleven or so, when my dad signed with the Eagles and we moved to Indianapolis. I hated it at first, but quickly grew to love it here. It didn’t hurt that I quickly made friends, and knew I’d be able to keep seeing them, as my dad had signed a long-term, no movement contract. He wanted stability for all of us, and thankfully, was a good enough player to demand those contract terms.

  I keep an eye on Beckett, sitting on the bench as the rest of his team plays. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be the backup, the guy who is expected to be suited up and ready at the drop of a hat to play, yet hardly ever gets to do just that. I know he can play; hell, he’d never have made it this far if he couldn’t, but it has to suck to be the backup goalie on an NHL team. I still can’t believe I had the nerve to ask him out the other day when we ran into each other at the coffee shop. It was a nice surprise to see him, and the words were out of my mouth before I even realized what I was doing.

  “Quit staring.” Jill, my best friend, elbows me in the ribs and laughs. “You’re going to need a napkin to wipe the drool off your lips if you’re not careful.”

  “Ha, ha,” I say, rolling my eyes at her. “I can look all I want. He’s just so damn hot, and you know better than anyone that I don’t usually think hockey players are hot.”

  “I will agree with you on the fact that he is easy on the eyes,” she agrees, taking in the specimen that is Beckett Karlson. “So, tell me more about asking him out. Did you guys make plans yet?”

  “No plans yet, he just agreed to it. I was going to try and stick around after the game, if you don’t mind, and see if I can catch him. I didn’t want to make things weird and ask my dad for his number, and I spaced exchanging with him the other day.”

  “I don’t mind. Maybe you can introduce me to the hot new rookie,” she says, waggli
ng her eyebrows up and down as she points to Zander Watts.

  “You sure you want to be another puck bunny?” I ask her, thinking of all the single girls that are probably lining up to get with him.

  “No,” she says, blowing out a breath. “Not my scene at all.”

  “I didn’t think so. We need to find you one of the older guys, who are over the bunny stage and have settled into their fame. Dating a hockey player isn’t all that easy, if some of the stories my mom has told me over the years are true, so just keep that in mind.”

  “And yet, here you’re following right in her footsteps and trying to date a professional hockey player,” she teases.

  I laugh. “Touché.”

  Jill hit the nail right on the head with that statement. Mom told me how hard it was when my dad first got called up. She was always the default parent when Dad was gone on long road trips. The one who had to deal with sick kids, school field trips, class parties, and birthday parties. My dad was always hands-on and helped out when he was home, but that’s the issue with the hockey season and schedule—they aren’t home that much. Half the season, they spend on the road, which makes that time off in the summer all the more important.

  Is that something I really want to sign myself up for? I’ve always stayed away from hockey players, mostly because guys in the past just wanted access to my dad, and I don’t want that. I want a guy to want me for me, not my connections.