Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About
Excerpt: Buried Treasure
For the Captain
Jenny Redford
Copyright © 2018 Jenny Redford
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America
First published 2018
Cover by Jacqueline Sweet Design
For the three captains of my team
Prologue
Jordan stood off to the side watching one of the local sportscasters do his on-camera introduction for the guys back in his studio.
"Yeah, we're here at the arena where earlier today, the Detroit Pirates announced that offensive lineman Jordan King will be the new captain for this storied hockey franchise."
Jordan could see on a small monitor set up nearby that the producer had cut to highlights from the press conference several hours earlier. There he was, front and center, with his new jersey as team owner Jack Foster held the other shoulder up.
"Make sure everyone can see the C, Jordan," he had instructed.
There were times when Jordan didn't like watching himself at press conferences or doing interviews. It just made him uncomfortable. But seeing himself on that screen, holding up his jersey... Well, he couldn't explain the emotion he felt building in his throat. There was just something amazing about seeing this dream of his come true. Not only did he play on a professional hockey team, but he was its captain now.
Jordan had been with the team for eight years and had gained a reputation of being not only one of the best athletes in the city but also one the most eligible bachelors in Detroit. Even some of the sportscasters had been quite kind in the early years to introduce him to the latest newsroom interns, which had varying success. He had to finally cut off that source of attractive women when he realized they were only doing it to get dirt on him.
To be fair, Jordan had kind of walked himself into that situation. Frankly, he had walked himself into quite a few different situations before quickly walking out again. Frankly, he couldn't remember the last relationship he had with a woman that survived more than a month. There were plenty of friendships that lasted longer than that, if you could label a booty call a friendship, but those weren't the least bit satisfying if he was being honest.
He was determined to change things now. He wasn't just a player on the team anymore. He was their leader now, and he would only have one focus this season: win the Cup.
He walked past the sports guys and team personnel, shaking hands and smiling before making an excuse about needing to grab something from the locker room. Really, there was nothing in there that he needed, just something he wanted.
He walked down the long hallway to the empty room. With the season not starting for another month, none of the players' equipment had even been unpacked yet. The only things in the room were empty lockers and his jersey hanging alone in his stall. On the shoulder, a white letter "C" stood out against the black background. Jordan smiled and grabbed his new jersey off the hanger, holding it in his hands as he ran his thumb over the stitches keeping the new letter in place.
A knock on the wood of a nearby locker made him look up quickly at a man intruding on his moment.
"Hey, brother."
Jordan smiled at Ethan, who stared at him with blue eyes that matched his own. "Did you see my new jersey?"
"I saw," his brother replied. "I don't often say it, but I'm really proud of you."
He turned back to the smooth fabric in his hands, his eyes going a bit unfocused as he thought about what this meant not only for him but for them. "Thank you, Ethan."
"For what?"
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
His brother's hand came down on his shoulder with a firm grasp. "You deserve this," he said quietly. "Now let's go eat. I'm starving and you're paying!"
"As always," he said with a knowing smile. "Meet you out there?"
Ethan nodded before walking away, leaving a quiet locker room behind. Jordan stared down at the fabric in his hands again. He thought about hanging the jersey back on the hanger, but decided to bring it with him instead. Taking the jersey home would be a good reminder that things were different now. No more late parties, no more girls. There was only one goal now: winning the championship this season with him as the captain.
Chapter 1
Six months later
Jordan had finally figured out his game-day routine after years of testing what worked and what didn't.
He got to the arena around three o'clock, hung up his worn sheepskin coat and turned off his phone — if there was an emergency, his brother knew how to reach him. He would change into a track suit with the Detroit Pirates' logo, make a protein shake, and take it to the bench out by the ice. For a half hour or so, he would drink and imagine how the game would go — which plays would work and which wouldn't, who he had to avoid and who he had to help. After that was catching up with his teammates, which was something he added this year now that he was the captain. He needed to always make sure things were working out with the players if they wanted to win it all this season.
And then of course, there was the soccer game. It was a staple for most hockey teams: a soccer ball and a circle of players kicking it around or bouncing it off their knees, anything to keep it in motion. But something was off today. Jordan felt like the world was trying to give him a sign that soccer was just not his thing. After bobbling it a few times, he missed a totally easy shot and had to go chasing it down the hall.
That's when he saw her. Blonde hair hiding her face as she looked down at her phone, long legs accentuated by her black leggings and a pair of black boots to match her jersey. Well, it was really his jersey considering she was wearing his number. Jordan stood there dumbfounded. It had been months since he had been with a woman, months since any woman really had a pull on him. He had been so focused on the team and getting away from who he used to be that he had pushed all of that aside. But it was no wonder that he would suddenly feel this way again with a woman so beautiful in front of him.
"Hey, jackass! Stop hogging the ball!"
Jordan turned to see his teammate Alex Orlov sneering at him.
"Screw you," he casually retorted as he tossed the ball to them.
He looked back at the woman, someone he thought looked familiar from somewhere. He couldn't quite figure it out, but she definitely seemed to look out of place in the drab underworld of the arena. Was she a player's girlfriend or part of the other team's staff maybe? And if either of those were the case, why was she wearing his jersey?
"I know you're s
taring at me, and it's kind of rude," she said without looking up from her phone.
Jordan looked around wondering what kind of idiot would stand there obviously staring like that. Then he realized he was that idiot. "Sorry, darling. I thought I recognized you from somewhere."
She looked up with harsh brown eyes that seemed ready to rip into him — and then they softened a bit. "You're Jordan King."
"I am. And you are?"
She held out her hand to him. "Charlotte Stone."
Holy crap, Charlotte Stone. As soon as she said her name, he recognized her from that stupid New York socialites' reality show that Alex insisted they watch during their down time on game-day afternoons. Her mom and some other old rich women starred on the vapid program and occasionally her mother would parade Charlotte in front of the cameras. She was the only person that Jordan was ever actually interested in seeing on the television screen. And she was here in his arena wearing his jersey.
"Nice to meet you." He tried to casually shake her hand, hoping it would hide the fact that he actually recognizing her. "Sorry about the uh... staring thing."
She smiled at him, wordlessly telling him it was OK because she was used to it. But he couldn't help but feel something for her that he hadn't felt in a long time around a woman. Nervousness maybe? Anxiety? Whatever it was, it was not normal for the most eligible bachelor in the Motor City.
"So I know this may sound rude, but what exactly are you doing here?"
"She's with me!" Jack Foster came walking down the ramp towards them and gave Charlotte a quick peck on the cheek. Jordan would never admit that he was jealous of his boss at that moment, but he was. "Your tickets," he said, handing Charlotte a white envelope.
"Tickets?" Jordan asked. "So you really are a hockey fan?"
"I am," she replied. "And Jack owed me after I signed the contract to live in his building."
"Signed a contract for the penthouse," he reminded them with an amused look on his face.
Jack had moved home to Detroit after becoming a billionaire when he sold his dot-com company back in Silicon Valley. Instead of staying in California, he decided to bring his cash back to his hometown and help revitalize the city. First, he bought the city's hockey team. Then he began renovating local abandoned buildings into luxury condos. Charlotte's had just been the most recent — and the most lavish.
"So I guess season tickets aren't hard to come by when you make the right real estate deal," Jordan teased.
Jack smiled at his captain. "You know the old car dealer who sits next to my friends by the penalty box?"
"Oh yeah, that guy's wife hates coming to the games," he said. "I think she'd try to find any way possible to get rid of those seats."
"Well, he died a month ago."
"And now I feel like an ass."
Charlotte laughed at Jordan, which gave him some sort of feeling that he didn't want to explain. If he could get another laugh like that from her, he would suffer whatever embarrassment he needed to make it possible.
"Don't feel bad," the team owner said. "She apparently called the ticket office to find a way to offload the seats for the rest of the season, and I found the perfect person." Jack smiled at Charlotte and then turned to his captain. "Kick some ass tonight for me, will you?"
Jordan shook Jack's hand. "Always do, sir."
"I'm not that much older than you. Stop calling me 'sir.'"
The captain leaned closer to Charlotte, lowering his voice a bit. "Just trying to impress the lady, sir." For that little display, he got another smile from the beauty next to him. "Enjoy the game, Miss Stone."
He gave her a wink and quickly turned back towards the locker room.
Jordan was trying to play it cool as he walked away but as soon as he turned the corner and was out of their sight, he had to take a deep breath. He was supposed to be focused on the game now, on the team and their goal to win the championship. He had told himself no women this year, nothing that could distract him until the end of the season, and definitely nothing that would contribute to his less-than-stellar reputation with the opposite sex.
But if that seat near the ice was going to be occupied by Charlotte Stone for the rest of the season, he was going to have to try extra hard to keep himself out of trouble instead of spending five minutes in the box staring at her.
Charlotte said her goodbyes to Jack and made her way into the arena, unable to shake the image of Jordan King's blue eyes staring at her. Just the idea of him talking to her dredged up bad memories of the last hockey player who looked at her like that. It was two years ago, sure, but the scar Declan Reed left on her heart still seemed to be quite fresh in her mind. It didn't help that Declan was also a professional hockey player, albeit the undisputed biggest pest in the league. Some things never change apparently.
But there was something about Jordan that could make her rethink her policy when it came to dating hockey players – and that could be very dangerous.
Charlotte was pulled out of her thoughts as she heard more and more chattering around her while she headed down the stairs to her seat.
"Damn, her ass is better looking in person than on TV."
"Have you read her novels? They're so trashy."
"I know, right? I love them!"
"Charlotte Stone!"
That last one came from the man she apparently was going to be sitting next to for the rest of the season, causing her to put on her most reserved expression. He looked to be about the same age as Jack with brown hair and brown eyes to match. The woman next to him had long black hair and an expression on her face that made it look like she was silently apologizing for the man's temporarily boorish behavior.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have yelled that so loud," the man said, sticking out his hand for Charlotte to shake. "I'm Adam Ward. I'm a friend of Jack's."
She felt the tension in her shoulders relax a bit as she took his hand. Maybe if he was a friend of Jack's, he wouldn't be so weirded out sitting next to someone well known like her.
"I'm Adam's wife, Rachel," said the woman with the black hair next to him. "And this is our son, Aiden."
A little boy with big brown eyes and dark curly hair like his father's ducked out from behind Rachel with a huge smile on his face.
"Hi!" The boy gave her an overly enthusiastic wave.
"What's up, kid?"
"I like your jersey. Is Jordan King your favorite player?"
"I'm not sure yet," she said. "Jack gave me this jersey and said I would like him."
He smiled innocently up at her. "I think everyone likes him! My mom says he has a lot of friends who are girls."
Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte could see Rachel shift uncomfortably and couldn't help but find it all amusing.
"I know quite a few hockey players like that," she told Aiden.
"Really?" he asked enthusiastically. "Like who?"
Like that stupid ass Declan Reed. "Oh, I can't think of any at the moment."
"So," Adam said, trying to help her change the subject. "Jack said you finally moved in this week. How did that go?"
"Not bad. A little stressful."
That was an understatement. When she originally bought the place eight months ago, it was a big space with four walls. She brought in a local architect that Jack had suggested to develop the living area. Her interior decorator from New York made the trek to Detroit and nearly passed out when she saw how much space she would be working with. It definitely wasn't the typical shoebox-sized New York apartment.
She got the moving van packed up two weeks ago, much to the chagrin of her mother, who turned her nose up at the idea of her daughter "slumming" it in a place that wasn't Manhattan. But Margaret Stone thought Brooklyn was slumming it so Detroit was practically another planet. Now that Charlotte was in her own place with her own decorations and her own boxes, even if they were over the place, her penthouse had already started to feel like home.
Charlotte turned to Adam who was watching the players warm up. "
So you worked with Jack in California?"
"Yeah," he said. "I took a chance and moved to San Francisco to help Jack launch his website, Titan, then met this beauty when I was out there." He put his arm around his wife and smiled. "So when Jack and I decided to sell the company, we both came back here."
"Do I dare ask how much you sold it for?" Charlotte asked before quickly realizing what she had said. "Actually, sorry, never mind. That was a very New York thing to ask."
Adam laughed and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't think you have to look any farther than these seats to find your answer."
He was right considering they were three rows back from the glass, close to the penalty boxes so they could hear every player's frustration after he got locked in. She looked out on the expanse of ice in front of them and smiled just as the lights went out and the loud music started playing.
"This is my favorite part!" Aiden yelled enthusiastically over the bass line.
"Let's hear it for your Detroit Pirates!" yelled the announcer as the team poured out onto the ice. "On your feet for the captain, Jordan King!"
She watched as the man she met earlier took some warm up laps while the crowd cheered him on. His uniform definitely made him seem taller and more muscular. The skates and padding probably helped quite a bit. Charlotte couldn't help but cheer as he came by and thought for a moment that he may have seen her and smiled. She wasn't going to dwell on it though. She also wasn't going to dwell on the way he stared intently and clenched his jaw as the puck was dropped to start the game. Charming, handsome hockey players have been nothing but trouble for her.
As the cheers died down, Aiden began to eye the empty seat next to her. "So who are you going to bring with you to the games?"
Jack had given her the pair of seats, but she wasn't sure what she would do with the tickets for that extra seat yet.
"Actually, I don't have any friends here so far so I don't know," she explained. "How about we make a deal? If I don't have a guest for a game, you can sit in my extra seat."
For the Captain (The Detroit Pirates Book 1) Page 1
