by Anna Sugden
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
A PERFECT PARTY cover
A Perfect Party
A PERFECT LUCKY CHARM cover
A Perfect Lucky Charm
A PERFECT DISGUISE cover
A Perfect Disguise
A PERFECT REUNION cover
A Perfect Reunion
A PERFECT STORM cover
A Perfect Storm
A PERFECT BOUQUET cover
A Perfect Bouquet
Welcome to the world of the New Jersey Ice Cats!
A PERFECT DISTRACTION excerpt
About the Author
A PERFECT SELECTION
♥
An Ice Cats Anthology
A Perfect Party
A Perfect Lucky Charm
A Perfect Disguise
A Perfect Reunion
A Perfect Storm
A Perfect Bouquet
Anna Sugden
www.AnnaSugden.com
A Perfect Selection
Copyright © 2016 by Anna Sugden
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written consent of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
A Perfect Party
Copyright © 2014 by Anahita Sugden
A Perfect Lucky Charm
Copyright © 2015 by Anahita Sugden
A Perfect Disguise
Copyright © 2015 by Anahita Sugden
A Perfect Reunion
Copyright © 2015 by Anahita Sugden
A Perfect Storm
Copyright © 2015 by Anahita Sugden
A Perfect Bouquet
Copyright © 2016 by Anahita Sugden
Contents
A PERFECT PARTY
Just good friends?
Ice Cats defenseman, Taylor ‘Mad Dog’ Madden wants more than friendship from Lizzie Martin. Much more. So when a Christmas party provides the chance to kick their relationship up a gear, should he take it or will he lose her completely?
A PERFECT LUCKY CHARM
There’s no such thing as luck!
Despite his name, Ice Cats’ forward, Patrick ‘Paddy’ Mullroney, isn’t Irish and doesn’t believe in lucky charms. For sure, they won’t help him get out of his scoring slump. But when a shamrock from the ear-ring of a green-eyed beauty drops at his feet, he wonders if St. Patrick’s Day might be lucky for him after all.
A PERFECT DISGUISE
Who’s the lady behind the mask?
Ice Cats’ forward, Jamie ‘Blade’ Wilkinson thinks his neighbour, pretty schoolteacher, Daisy Carturo, is too good for him. She deserves better than a man with his dark past. When he meets sexy Catwoman at a team charity event, he thinks he’s found a more suitable woman to date. So why does she make him think about Daisy? If only he could have the best of both worlds.
A PERFECT REUNION
A day of thanksgiving?
When Ice Cats’ defenseman, Troy Davidson, sees his ex-fiancé at his parents’ Thanksgiving party, he’s determined to make things right. He screwed up five years ago, when he ditched their engagement party to elope with a movie star. Now divorced, he realises he’s only ever loved one woman. Charlotte Daniels claims she’s forgiven Troy. But can she trust him enough to take another chance on him and love?
A PERFECT STORM
Snowbound!
When Ice Cats’ forward, Vladimir ‘Vlad’ Ralinkov, gets caught in a snowstorm, on his way back from a game, he seeks refuge in his favourite diner. Could this be the opportunity he’s been waiting for to heat things up with lovely diner owner, Poppy Lambert, or will she leave him out in the cold?
A PERFECT BOUQUET
Anything, but red roses!
Ice Cats’ back-up goaltender, Chaz ‘Monty’ Montgomery, fell in love with florist Kayla DeMarco the first time he met her. Unfortunately, then she was married to one of his former team-mates. Since Kayla’s divorce, Monty has waited patiently, hoping that one day she’ll notice that he’s more than just a great customer. Can he convince her with a special bouquet that Valentine’s Day is the perfect time to take a chance on a different hockey player?
Welcome to the world of the New Jersey Ice Cats!
About the Author
A Perfect Party
♥
A New Jersey Ice Cats short story
ANOTHER HOLIDAY PARTY. Another night of pretending Lizzie Martin was just a good friend.
Taylor ‘Mad Dog’ Madden drained his beer, then loaded up his plate. He’d hang out at the buffet table until he could leave without seeming rude. Taylor had considered not showing at all, but since the Christmas party was hosted by his friend and New Jersey Ice Cats’ team-mate, Jake ‘Bad Boy’ Badoletti, that would’ve raised more questions than he wanted to answer.
Taylor deliberately avoided looking through the hatch into the kitchen. Lizzie was in there, piping guests’ names onto the Christmas-themed cookies that would be passed out as party favors. Amazing to think that he and Lizzie had only cooked up the idea for Lizzie’s Sweet Treats at a Thanksgiving party two years ago and now her personalized cookie business was so successful that clients booked her months in advance. She’d already repaid his seed money, but had insisted he remain her silent partner, claiming he was good luck.
Friend. Business partner. Good luck charm. Every-damn-thing but what he wanted to be.
Unable to fight it any longer, his gaze was drawn to Lizzie.
She looked lovely, as always. Her blond hair was swept back in a fancy braid and she wore a candy-cane-striped apron with Sweet Treats embroidered across the chest over a red, sweater dress that clung to her generous curves. Sugar dusted her lips, making him yearn to taste her sweetness.
Realising he’d licked his own lips, Taylor groaned silently. Why the hell did he torture himself like this? Why didn’t he just tell Lizzie how he felt?
Because he was scared he’d ruin their friendship and lose her altogether.
He and Lizzie had been pals since they’d clashed over the last spoonful of potato salad at a Memorial Day party his first year in the NHL. They’d hung out together ever since, which had done them both a favor. Taylor hadn’t been interested in dating after his childhood sweetheart had dumped him and Lizzie’d had big plans for the future, so was happy being single.
Things had been great, until this year’s July 4th party. They’d been watching the fireworks, when Lizzie had fed Taylor one of her ‘Stars and Stripes’ cookies. The moment her fingers had brushed his lips, the exploding rockets had moved from the sky above to inside his head. That’s when Taylor had realised friendship was no longer enough. The good news was that she hadn’t noticed his body’s reaction to her. The bad news -- she didn’t seem affected by him at all.
Every time they’d got together after that, Taylor had struggled to hide his deepening feelings.
Lizzie’s laughter interrup
ted his thoughts. Damn it. What was his buddy Jean-Baptiste Larocque doing in the kitchen, flirting with Lizzie? Taylor ground his teeth, as JB wrapped an arm around Lizzie’s waist, then swiped a cookie. The stud forward could get any woman he wanted -- did he have to horn in on Taylor’s woman too?
Except, technically, she wasn’t Taylor’s woman.
Time he did something about that. For sure, he couldn’t stand this limbo anymore. Taylor set his plate aside and walked into the kitchen.
“Leave the cookies alone, Larocque” he growled.
JB released Lizzie immediately, but the look he shot Taylor was a challenge, daring him to act. “Only taking what’s mine, Mad Dog.” His friend held up the cookie to show his iced name. “I don’t poach. Though if yours is unclaimed much longer, it’s fair game.”
Despite his cocky words, the understanding in JB’s dark eyes as he sauntered out of the kitchen said he knew how Taylor felt about Lizzie. Crap. Was it that obvious?
Apparently not to Lizzie. She smiled brightly, as she came across to hug him.
Taylor closed his eyes briefly, inhaling her sweet scent, mingled with vanilla and sugar. He’d bet she tasted as delicious as she smelled.
This was not the time for those thoughts. He forced himself to step back and grin at her.
“What happened to you?” Lizzie ran her fingers gently over his split lip and bruised cheek. “That black eye looks sore.”
His pulse kicked at her touch. “I got checked into a stanchion during last night’s game and cracked my jaw on the boards. Looks worse than it is.”
“Poor baby.” She kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his mouth. “A kiss will make it better.”
She’d given him the perfect opening, yet Taylor hesitated. If he kissed her, he’d cross a line; they could never go back to being just friends.
The hell with it. He had to know -- one way or the other. “My injuries deserve a proper kiss, don’t you think?”
“In your dreams.” Lizzie’s laugh faltered as she met his steady gaze. “You’re serious? I … uh …” Her voice trailed off and her blue eyes widened, as he drew her towards him. Colour filled her cheeks, but she didn’t protest.
He lowered his head slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him.
She didn’t.
Taylor was wrong -- Lizzie was more delicious than her scent. She tasted way better than any cookie. Than any other woman.
As their lips met, then lingered, desire rippled through his body. It felt so good. Better than good. It felt right.
He pulled her closer, until she was plastered full-length against him, and deepened the kiss. Lizzie wound her arms around his neck, moaning deep in her throat.
Lost in the kiss for minutes, maybe even hours, Taylor wondered why he’d worried about making his move. It was going to work out perfectly.
Lizzie ended the kiss, then pulled away. “That was unexpected. And not very sensible.”
He smiled, enjoying the taste of her on his lips and the pleasure tingling inside him. “Being sensible is overrated.”
“Maybe, but this can’t happen again.”
A chill washed over him, like he’d been sprayed with ice. “What?”
“Anyone could have walked in.” She strode out of the kitchen.
What the hell had just happened? One minute she was kissing him like she was enjoying it, the next she was out of there faster than Larocque on a shorthanded rush.
He was still trying to figure it out, when Lizzie returned and tossed his jacket at him. She wanted him to leave? Man, how had he screwed this up so badly? Taylor shrugged into his jacket and turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” Lizzie asked.
“Home.”
“Why?”
He looked at her, confused. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“No. I thought we could continue what we were doing outside.” She opened the back door. “In private.”
Then Taylor realised that Lizzie wore her coat. His heart hitched with hope, as he followed her into the wintry night.
Still, he wanted to be sure. “But you said …”
She smiled, interrupting him. “I didn’t want us to be disturbed.”
“I thought I’d made a huge mistake.”
“You did.” Lizzie walked into his arms, tilting up her head so her mouth was just beneath his. “You wasted five months.”
Happiness filled him. “Then, I’d better make up for lost time.” And he kissed her.
It was a perfect party, after all.
A Perfect Lucky Charm
♥
A New Jersey Ice Cats short story
“TODAY’S YOUR LUCKY day, Paddy. You’ll score in the first period.”
Patrick ‘Paddy’ Mullroney rolled his eyes at his New Jersey Ice Cats’ team-mate, Kenny Jelinek. “March 17th is just another day to me. I’m not freaking Irish.”
At least, he didn’t think so. He’d been christened by the nuns at the Catholic orphanage where he’d been dumped as a baby. There hadn’t been a note asking for forgiveness. No clue as to who’d thrown him away like garbage. No name. Paddy ignored the twist in his gut and focused on taping his stick.
Kenny shrugged. “Take any help you can get to break your scoring slump, man – even if it’s only your name on St. Patrick’s Day. Hell, I’d change mine to O’Jelinek if it got me a goal.”
“That’s superstitious crap. Lucky charms, wishing on stars or skating counter-clockwise around the ice don’t affect your play. The harder you work, the better your ‘luck’.”
“Well, Oi’ll be hopin’ for all the luck of the Oirish for ya this afternoon, boyo. So oi will.” His friend ditched the corny accent. “We need to beat the Flyers, to keep our Wild Card spot.”
Paddy pulled on his Cats sweater. “We play our game for sixty minutes and we’ll get the ‘W’. No luck required.”
Thankfully, it was time for the pre-game warm-up, so he strode out of the locker room. The chilled air made his lungs tingle, whilst anticipation made his blood pump faster.
Coming out of the tunnel, he saw the usual crowd leaning over the glass wall, waiting for the players.
“You gonna score tonight?” called a dark-haired boy in a red Mullroney jersey.
“I’ll do my best, Max.” Paddy tapped his glove against the kid’s hand.
“Today’s your lucky day.”
“Yeah.” His grin barely faltered. “I’d better hit the ice or the boss will scratch me.”
“Sure.” Max nodded. “Say hi to Aunt Shayla first. Dad had to work and couldn’t make the afternoon face-off.”
Paddy’s attention shifted to the woman standing beside the ten-year-old and was captivated by a pair of laughing, emerald eyes.
He almost tripped over his skates.
Damn, he hadn’t lost his cool like that since Juniors, when a puck-bunny-in-the-making had flashed her breasts after he’d scored a hat-trick.
Shayla was petite and pretty. Shiny, dark hair framed her face. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. Her green sweater matched her eyes and hugged her curves. From each ear hung a rainbow, with a pot of gold and shamrock beneath. The whole delectable package was enough to make him reconsider his stance on St. Patrick’s Day.
He tried not to gawp like a teenager. “Hi.”
“Good luck,” she said, huskily.
He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Uh … thanks.”
A stick poked him in the back. “Let’s go,” JB Larocque said, a knowing look in his dark eyes. “Time to get to work.”
Paddy nodded at Shayla, forcing his legs to move.
As he skated around the Cats’ half of the rink, the tension tightening his muscles began to ease. During the shooting drills, pucks flew into the net.
“You may not be Irish, but your stick’s heating up, for sure.” Kenny’s shot hit the pipes.
“That’s not all that’s heating up.” Larocque smirked as he whipped the puck past goaltender, Ike Jelinek.<
br />
Paddy told the stud winger to do an anatomically impossible sexual act.
The ribbing continued, until the horn blew for the end of the warm-ups. As Paddy headed off the ice, his heart jolted when he saw Shayla smiling at him.
Kenny pushed past, wolf-whistling under his breath.
Paddy resisted the urge to hook Kenny’s skates from under him and tried to look nonchalant when Shayla stuck out her hand for him to tap.
Despite his thick glove, electricity shot up Paddy’s arm when he touched her.
At the same moment, something glittery fell to the matting by his skate. The shamrock from one of her ear-rings.
He removed his glove, picked up the trinket and handed it to her.
Shayla shook her head. “Keep it as a good luck charm.”
Biting back his usual spiel about luck, he thanked her and went to the locker room.
Seated at his stall, Paddy finished his pre-game prep. Then, as the clock counted down to game-time, he rolled the shamrock back and forth across his palm. He should leave the charm in his locker. Instead, he taped it to his right sock, above his skate. He glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, but they were all listening to the coach’s instructions.
When the team went out for the start of the game, Paddy deliberately didn’t replace his glove. Electricity zinged up his arm again, even stronger, as he tapped Shayla’s hand.
Her eyes widened. Clearly she felt it too.
From the opening face-off, Paddy played better than he had in weeks. His passes were crisp, his shots accurate. Only a sharp Flyers’ goaltender kept the score at 0-0 at the end of the period. A goal was coming, Paddy sensed. It wasn’t luck; the time had come for the ice to tilt in his favour. Still, he removed his glove to pat Shayla’s hand and relished the now-familiar sizzle.
