Game On (Hometown Players Book 6)

by Victoria Denault

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a Thunder player?” I whisper harshly when Mr. Carling is out of earshot.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were Jude Braddock’s sister?” he counters, looking just as stunned as I feel.

  “Because I don’t tell anyone. That’s why I use my middle name as a last name,” I reply sternly. “I don’t want the team to think he got me the job, so you can’t tell anyone. Just like you can’t tell anyone about that kiss. Please. Because this is the only good thing I have in my life, and I’m not losing it over a kiss.”

  “For the record, I didn’t tell you I play for the Thunder because I don’t. I play for the Storm,” he tells me calmly. “And I won’t tell anyone your real last name, but who cares who knows about the kiss?”

  “I care! They have a strict policy about that stuff here,” I explain. My eyes keep darting down the hall. Mr. Carling is coming our way now with Ryanne. “That kiss could cost me my job.”

  “Okay. Okay. If you want me to pretend that incredible kiss didn’t happen, then I will. But I don’t think either of us will forget it,” he manages to whisper before Mr. Carling and Ryanne are standing in front of us. She looks equal parts power and beauty in a pair of tailored black pants, with her long dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail that looks as silky as her red blouse. I open my mouth to introduce myself, but her eyes are on Eli, not me. She extends her hand to him. “Mr. Casco. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do out there tonight.”

  He shakes her hand and flashes a confident grin. “I’m looking forward to impressing you.”

  Ryanne glances at Mr. Carling. “This one is much bolder than his brother. Let’s hope he can back it up.”

  “I should get into my gear,” Eli says and then puts a hand on my back which makes me bristle. “I’ll leave you to talk to your best and brightest communications team addition. Nice meeting you.”

  Eli walks away and I’m left frazzled again, but I try not to show it as I look up at Ryanne and give her what I hope is a poised smile. “Dixie Wynn. I’m very happy to meet you, Ms. Bateman. You’re the reason I wanted to work here.”

  She smiles and shakes my hand. “I’m flattered. Your whole department—hell, the whole organization—has nothing but positive remarks about you.”

  I smile brighter, my nerves starting to dissapate. She leans in and winks at me. “And I admire the fact that you haven’t told them who you are. You earned your fantastic reputation on your own.”

  She stands straighter and turns to Mr. Carling again. “I’m heading to my box. Looking forward to seeing you all at the party later tonight.”

  And just like that she’s off down the hall, her four-inch heels clicking loudly against the concrete floor. That went way better than I thought it would after all the drama leading up to it. I turn to Mr. Carling. “I’m going to go brief the team on the media info for after the game.”

  His phone buzzes and as his eyes slide to the screen, I leave him to head into the locker room. I march right in, even though some of the guys are in various states of undress. I learned early on that being timid or shy with these boys caused them to give me more grief than if I just walked in on them when they’re half naked.

  “Boys! Listen up!” I bellow and ninety percent of the heads in the room snap to attention. Only one of them is glaring at me in horror—my brother, Jude Braddock.

  “Hey, Ms. Wynn,” he says, accentuating the Wynn part. “Maybe knock before entering or something.”

  I give him a quick I don’t give a fuck smirk. He knows the look well, and I know it annoys the hell out of him, which is why I do it. The only thing I love more than Jude is irking the hell out of Jude.

  “I’m not the Virgin Mary, Braddock.” I let my eyes sweep the room, but they somehow get stuck on Eli. His jacket and shirt are gone. His chest is wide and smooth and his abs are hard and rippled…I blink and wrench my eyes away. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  I shoot out my directions about press after the game like a drill sergeant, explaining it’s a light schedule tonight because the media only want to talk to the Casco brothers after the game. The irony is I was holding this list the entire time. If I’d just read it in the elevator I would have known Eli was playing for us. I leave, forcing myself not to look back at Eli even though every fiber of my being wants to. I have to let it go—forget the kiss and how attractive I find his bold, goofy personality.

  Fifteen minutes later the players are filtering out to take the ice. Eli is the last one out of the locker room and as his eyes connect with mine, he grins and gives me a wink. Everyone continues down the hall chattering away, excited for the game. Eli pauses for just a second right in front of me and in a rough whisper says, “Admit it. That was one hell of a kiss.”

  “Go!” I command sharply and he struts off down the tunnel with the rest of the team.

  Alone in the hall, my fingertips brush my lips absently, my breath hitches. He’s not here to see my response, but I can’t help nodding my head in agreement.

  About the Author

  Victoria Denault loves long walks on the beach, cinnamon dolce lattes and writing angst-filled romance. She lives in LA but grew up in Montreal, which is why she is fluent in English, French and hockey.

  Learn more at:

  VictoriaDenault.com

  Facebook.com/AuthorVictoriaDenault

  Twitter: @BooksbyVictoria

  Also by Victoria Denault

  Hometown Players series

  One More Shot

  Making a Play

  The Final Move

  Winning It All

  On the Line

  San Francisco Thunder series

  Score

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  Look for the other books in the Hometown Players series!

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