Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1)

by Samantha Wayland

  “Garrick?”

  “Yes, sorry,” he said quickly, embarrassed to have drifted off.

  “Why don’t you get yourself home safely and then we’ll talk about next steps.”

  Garrick swallowed hard. “Okay. Thanks.”

  He pulled into his driveway with a sigh, ditched his truck out front and staggered up the front stairs. He steeled himself for the moment that his house, for the first time ever, wouldn’t feel the same. That his big, warm home had lost something it needed.

  Savannah.

  He swung the front door open. Had he bit been hit in the head harder than he thought? Maybe the MRI hadn’t shown the damage. Maybe he’d sprung a spontaneous bleed on the drive home.

  Because he’d swear to god Savannah was sitting on his stairs, smiling at him.

  His hallucination stood and took a step toward him. “Turns out, I couldn’t go back to my apartment.”

  “You couldn’t?”

  She took another step. “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  She smiled a little. “Because what I really wanted was to come home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yeah.”

  His heart beat a little harder, but he shook his head, ignoring the zing of pain. “I don’t understand.”

  Savannah’s smile faded, but she took another step closer. “Also, there’s something very important that I need to tell you.”

  “What’s that?” A surge of hope terrified him. He’d never felt more vulnerable.

  “I love you.”

  Garrick closed his eyes for a second, staggering under the weight of his relief.

  He wasn’t sure if he hauled Savannah into his arms or if she hurled herself there. All he knew was he couldn’t hold her close enough, couldn’t possibly kiss her long enough. Her groan was almost drowned out by his whimper of pain as he belatedly recalled his mangled face. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was touching her. Tasting her. Having Savannah back in his arms.

  When she pressed closer, he pushed her back.

  Shit, wait.

  His guts churning, he held her away from him. “You have to go to Boston.”

  She shook her head.

  “Yes, you do.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I know. Of course I do. But this—” she gestured between their bodies “—is important. Just as important as Boston.”

  He pulled her back into his arms, the relief of having her there far outweighing the pain against his bruised ribs and legs. “It is. We are. We’ll figure it out.”

  She sighed and buried her face against his neck. “I can’t believe I fall in love for the first time in my life and I’m about to move five hundred and thirty seven miles away.”

  Garrick laughed. “Looked that up, did you?”

  She leaned back and smiled. “You hadn’t?”

  “Oh yeah, I had.” He grinned down at her. “Now, can you repeat the other part?”

  Her hand cupped his cheek. “I love you. My god, I love you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’ve been falling in love with you since that night in Nova Scotia. Maybe before then. I just didn’t know what it was. What I was feeling. All it knew was that it scared the crap out of me.”

  He grinned. “Me too.”

  Her brows furrowed. “What are we going to do?”

  “You’re going to go to the Bruins.”

  “But—”

  “And I’m going to finish the season here, then meet you in Boston in March.”

  Savannah leaned back. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Really.”

  “What about next season?”

  “There is no next season,” he said, finding only relief in the words he’d feared for so long. “I’m retiring.”

  Savannah gripped his arms hard. “Garrick, you can keep playing. Moncton loves you.”

  He laughed. “Good for Moncton. But they don’t love me nearly as much as I love you.”

  Savannah didn’t have any arguments for that. She leaped into his arms, wrapping her long legs around his waist. He gasped in pain and she winced in sympathy, even as he captured her mouth and carried her toward the stairs. No amount of aches and pains were going to stop him.

  The doorbell, on the other hand, worked just fine.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  As a rule, it wasn’t a good thing when someone turned up at his door unexpectedly at seven o’clock in the morning. After the day he’d had, Garrick seriously considered ignoring it. The odds of it being good news were long. And he had so many other things he’d like to be doing right then.

  The doorbell rang again. Damn it.

  With a sigh, he lowered Savannah back to her feet and adjusted the steel bar in his pants, so as not to frighten his unsuspecting visitors. Ignoring Savannah’s giggle, he slid his arm around her shoulders and tucked her close as he pulled back the curtain and peeked out to the front porch. When he saw who was standing on the other side of the door, he jerked back.

  “Whoa.”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  Rather than answer, he opened to the door to Reese Lamont and Rupert Smythe.

  “Whoa,” Savannah agreed quietly.

  Rumor had it Reese Lamont didn’t leave his estate. Ever. The whole recluse bazillionaire thing more or less required it. The fact that Rupert was hovering at Reese’s side, his face creased with worry, made Garrick think this was, indeed, an unusual occurrence.

  Garrick snapped his mouth shut and recalled his manners. “Please, come in.”

  Reese walked into the foyer and shifted uncomfortably, clearly not certain where to look or to sit. In his own home, he’d been the model of social grace, but here he appeared at a loss. At last, his roving gaze alighted on Savannah. “I heard from Mark about your position in Boston.”

  Garrick racked his brain to come up with a reason this had lured Reese from his sanctuary, let alone landed him in Garrick’s front hall.

  “Congratulations,” Rupert said, filling the silence.

  “Thank you.”

  “Yes, good luck with that.” Reese shifted again, then turned to Garrick. “I actually came to see you. We heard what happened last night and wanted to come sort things out in person.”

  Garrick nodded. “Okay,” he said slowly, wondering what this had to do with Reese’s appearance on his doorstep.

  “I’d like to propose,” Reese continued, “if you’re still interested, that we go into a partnership.”

  He looked at Garrick with a mildly curious expression, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said you had enough to buy three-fourths of the team. I’m willing to sell that to you and your partners, if you still want it. I’ll keep a fourth, and the four of us, if you agree, will own the team. We’ll draft up a corporation, all that. You know.” He waved his hand.

  Garrick had no idea. But he could learn. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. And I had thought, if you’d be willing to retire from the ice a little early, you ought to manage the team. Obviously, we can let you out of your contract.”

  Garrick slowly sat on the bench at his back. Shit. “I was already planning to retire at the end of this season.”

  “Excellent.”

  “And move to Boston.”

  Reese looked between him and Savannah. “Well, yes, of course. I hadn’t realized…but, yes, of course.”

  Reese’s cheeks turned pink and Savannah gave him a small, reassuring smile. Rupert hovered closer.

  Garrick’s mind spun, then he shot back to his feet and took Savannah’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Actually, I can do a lot from there, ownership-wise. We’ll keep the farmhouse, and I can visit periodically during the season. I mean, if that’s okay with Savannah.”

  “Of course. I’ll be traveling a lot during the season. There will be plenty of time.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a bright, encouraging smile.

  Garrick l
ooked back to Reese and was alarmed to see his shoulders slump.

  “I’m afraid we would be starting with an uphill battle,” Reese said. “Mark gave his notice today. Seems the prospect of working for the Kramers was highly unattractive and he went looking. He’s been courted away by his alma mater.”

  “Damn,” Garrick muttered. A mid-season replacement would be a nightmare.

  “I was hoping you might step in,” Reese explained. “But if you’ll be leaving between the season and the draft, it might be too disruptive.”

  Garrick nodded. That kind of upheaval could destroy a team. New players were critical to overall success and decisions had to be made by someone intimately familiar with the sport, the league, and the team.

  Rupert cleared his throat. “I’ll do it.”

  For a long time no one said anything.

  “The draft?” Reese said, his face pinched with confusion.

  “No. Well, yes. And manage the Ice Cats.”

  Reese’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Savannah put a hand on Rupert’s arm. “Are you sure? You always seem so…well, nervous around the team.”

  “Yes, well, it’s a silly thing for a grown man to be frightened of other grown men, isn’t it?” Rupert’s nerves made his British accent particularly prim. “I mean really, they’re just athletes, like any other men.”

  Garrick blinked. Had Rupert just admitted to being afraid of hockey players?

  Reese went to his friend. “You don’t have to do this. There is nothing to prove.”

  Rupert’s cheeks colored. “Well, as it turns out, I have something to prove to myself. And I happen to love hockey. You know I tried to talk you out of selling the team to begin with, and now I see I can make an even greater difference.” He paused, his beseeching look at Reese morphing into one of concern. “That is, if you’ll be all right without me.”

  Rather than brush Rupert off, Reese appeared to be giving the matter serious consideration. Rupert’s determination seemed to melt before their eyes, but before he could rescind his offer, Reese nodded.

  “It seems we both could prove some things to ourselves,” Reese said quietly. “If you take on the Ice Cats, with Garrick and me and presumably the other owners backing you up, then I’ll take over my own business affairs, if you’ll promise to advise when needed.”

  “Of course,” Rupert said. “Are you sure?”

  Reese nodded. “It’s been long enough. If the three of you promise not to identify me to the media or the public, I don’t see why I can’t move about anonymously. Perhaps I’ll get a place here in Moncton. Go to some Ice Cats games.”

  Garrick exchanged a quick, baffled glance with Savannah.

  “Yes, well, we’d better get started then.” Rupert clapped and rubbed his hands together. He turned to Savannah. “When are you due in Boston?”

  Hours later, the four of them stood from the kitchen table. They’d covered a lot of ground already, including calling Savannah’s brothers and securing their agreement, notifying the league, setting the attorneys to work on creating the legal partnership, arranging Savannah’s travel and Rupert’s move, and debating extensively about what sort of changes they’d like to make first. They’d cobbled together a brunch from what little Garrick had in the house, but now at sunset, they were all tired and hungry.

  “Yes, well, I think that settles that. We’ll leave you to get some supper and some sleep. You had a long night, and now we’ve put you to work for the better part of the day,” Reese said, moving with Rupert toward the door.

  Garrick ushered them out, thanking them, his mind still reeling. Holy shit. He was going to own the Ice Cats.

  Closing the door behind their guests, Garrick stared at Savannah with wide eyes. She grinned back.

  In a blink, his worries about the team and his role faded to the background. Owning the team was going to be fantastic. But it was nothing compared to knowing he’d get to be with this woman.

  He was about to prove to her just how much he loved her, when she frowned. “I guess we should go out and get something for dinner.”

  That wasn’t at all what Garrick had in mind, but he was hungry. For a lot of things.

  “Oh yeah?” A slow smile spread across his face. “Because I was thinking about what we were about to do before we were so rudely interrupted.”

  Savannah’s brows arched. “Oh, were you?” Her eyes widened when he lunged for her. With a squeal of joy, she bolted for the stairs. Her long legs pumped up the steps and to the hallway outside his bedroom. He couldn’t catch her before she launched herself onto his bed. With a bounce, she landed on her knees and stripped her shirt off over her head.

  That’s my girl.

  She lunged for him, but he stepped back and stopped her with one hand held out.

  “What?” She chucked the rest of her clothes across the room, clearly not interested in any delay. Neither was he, but his priorities weren’t completely consumed by his body’s clamoring needs. Yet.

  “If you stay right there, I’ll give you what you really want.”

  “Hmmm…” she practically purred. “Will you?” Her downright sultry gaze trailed over him and he had to lock his knees to keep himself upright.

  “Yes, I will,” he promised, watching the goosebumps rise across her ivory skin. Then he pulled out his cell phone and ordered enough Chinese food to feed the population of Belize.

  Garrick ordered up a veritable feast. She laughed as his grin, her heart light, and fell back onto the bed. Happiness like she’d never known blazed in her chest, contentedness like she’d never imagined possible warmed her body, and good old-fashioned lust heated her blood.

  At last Garrick hung up and tossed his phone on the dresser.

  “You do know what this girl needs,” she teased, her stomach growling with the promise of food. “But I thought we’d already decided there wasn’t delivery Chinese in Moncton that wasn’t destined to poison us.”

  “That was House of Lau.”

  “Hey! They don’t deliver!” She was completely over her idea of going out to get food. And hell, now she had plans for Garrick. She didn’t want him to go either. Pinned on the bed beneath his hot gaze, there were countless things she wanted from him, and none of them allowed for him to go get supper.

  “They do if you went to high school with Brian Lau and you’re willing to pay a premium. And boy, am I willing. It will be here in thirty minutes.”

  She sighed with relief. “You spoil me.”

  “Every chance I get,” he murmured. Fisting a hand in the back of his layered shirts, he stripped them off in one go.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for the food?”

  He grimaced as he toed off his shoes, making quick work of removing the rest of his clothes. “I can’t. God help me, I have to touch you. Even if it means I have to pay for the Moo Goo Gai Pan in the altogether.”

  Savannah’s laugh died on her lips as her eyes skimmed over his chest. The bruises were ripe, but they couldn’t hide the magnificence. Broad shoulders, the deep curve under his pecs, the bunched muscles of his abs. Perfect.

  “Come here.” She reached for him.

  He crawled over her, settling his weight along hers, his hips cradled between her thighs, his cock nestling in the folds of her pussy. He was hard. She was wet.

  Moo Goo Gai Pan be damned. She wasn’t in any hurry.

  “I love you,” she said quietly, carding her fingers through his hair, watching his eyes change to liquid chocolate.

  One side of his mouth kicked up. “I love you too.”

  Their lips met, their tongues exploring one another as though they’d never done it before. As though they had all the time in the world. She cupped his face in her hands, holding him close, treasuring how he pressed her into the mattress. She locked her legs around him. His body fit hers perfectly. She loved his texture. His taste. His scent. His ridiculous fat lip.

  He shifted away and she brought her knees higher, opening herself to him, groaning long
and loud as he eased into her body. Slowly. Carefully. He fit here too, stretching her, his length just enough to nudge her cervix as he settled deep. Within a few strokes, it would be different, but as they sank into another kiss, it was as though they’d been made for just this. Exactly.

  She didn’t urge him on, happy to be wrapped around him, joined to him, content to hold him like this forever. She skimmed her palms down his back, into the dip at his waist, and drew her fingers over the swell of his buttocks. She wallowed in the touch of smooth skin, firm muscle, and the rising heat from his body. He eased from her and her breath stuttered, gusting over his chest. His long, slow glide back into her core was so delicious, goosebumps broke out across her body.

  “Garrick,” she sighed, looking up into his beautiful face. She couldn’t form words to tell him what she wanted.

  He didn’t say a word, his eyes locked on her, his gaze narrow as he shuddered above her.

  “Do you feel that?” she asked, unsure how to articulate the depth. The intimacy.

  He nodded, stroking, never looking away. She arched beneath him, unable to hold still, her need to be close to him driving her up off the bed and against him.

  His strokes picked up speed, the friction unbearably sweet, the power of each thrust lifting her higher. Closer. She brought his face to hers for another kiss and squeezed her eyes shut, moaning into his mouth as he shifted his weight, his knees wider on the bed, his thrusts gathering power. The rock of their bodies, the taste of his tongue on hers, took her to the teetering edge.

  The need became too great, their ability to coordinate lips and tongues lost to the maelstrom of passion. They pressed their faces close and gasped, his breath hot against her skin, her moans muffled against his. He was murmuring. Soft words she could barely decipher. Except one.

  Love.

  Her orgasm rolled up and over her, bowing her spine, drawing a cry from her lips, her chest, her heart, as she arched beneath him. She clung to him as his hips lost their rhythm and kicked in sharp circles.

  He sighed her name against her neck as each jerk of his body filled her with his warmth.