Defending the Reaper: A Standalone Steamy Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romances Book 5)

by G. K. Brady

  “I never got a chance to kiss you good-bye when I brought you home,” he mumbled against her skin, “and I totally blew my hello with the hat incident, so I figure I have some makeup work to do.”

  Abandoning the flowers, she leaned against him and closed her eyes. Oh yes, please!

  He sucked a sensual path up her neck to her ear, where he lingered and nibbled. Warm breath and tongue turned her into a mass of quivering goo, and she nearly collapsed when he turned her and caught her mouth with his in a slow, probing kiss. A kiss that flashed hot and urgent seconds later. A kiss that had their tongues sliding and rolling over one another, hot and wet and hungry. That had her clawing at his back, had him hiking up her legs and wrapping them around his waist. That had him grinding the hard length restrained in his jeans into her, rocking her against the sink. That had her fingers bunched in his shirt, his hair. That fractured and stole the breath from her lungs.

  Suddenly, he pulled back and stared at her, his mouth open as he gasped for air. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Confusion bloomed in her foggy brain. “Do what? Kiss me?”

  He rested his forehead against hers. One hand still supporting her leg, he traced his fingers along the side of her face with his other hand. “I meant to kiss you. I just didn’t mean to lose my mind.”

  Self-satisfaction streaked through her, flushing her chest and neck with heat. She loosened her grip on his hair, toying with his strands instead, then released his shirt and rested her hand against the rock wall of his chest. “I’m sorry. Except I’m not.”

  Chuckling, he stepped away from the sink, sliding her down his body until she stood precariously on rickety legs. He laced his fingers together and rested them on the small of her back. “I came over here to explain about this morning.”

  “Oh.” She pulled in a steadying breath and broke his hold. I need alcohol. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “Yeah. I could use a whiskey if you have it. A double.”

  Now her stomach bottomed out, and her heart pounded for a wholly different reason. She hastily arranged the three dozen roses in a vase of water, measured out a hefty pour from the just-bought Stranahan’s Whiskey bottle—it had been his go-to drink last night—and filled a wine goblet halfway with a red blend for herself. She led them to her slipcovered couch and curled up in one corner while he sank into the opposite corner. Casper had followed them—him—from the kitchen and now leaned against his leg. He gave her a few pats. After a long, quiet sip of whiskey, he cradled his glass and stared blankly at the coffee table.

  “So … about this morning?” Ellie prodded. Let’s just get it over with.

  He cleared his throat. “I really was tired, but don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining.” He shot her that sexy grin that probably got him out of all kinds of trouble. Another sip. “But I was also … a little freaked out, I guess.”

  Now she took a giant gulp. “Freaked out about what?”

  “You.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Me? Did I do something wrong?”

  He set his drink on the coffee table, ate up the gap between them on the couch, and lifted her wineglass from her hand. This he placed on the table before grasping her arms and pulling her toward him. “Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. And that was part of my problem. You’re so damn perfect that I got a little spooked, I guess.”

  “Spooked about what?” Yep, she was being a dork again, but honestly, she didn’t get it. This big, bad Wookiee hockey player—

  “Lots of reasons. I don’t have a great track record when it comes to relationships, for one. For another, I may not be in Denver much longer.” His eyes scanned hers as though he were trying to telegraph something he couldn’t say out loud.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Releasing her, he sat back with a shrug that contradicted his intensity mere seconds before. “Players get traded all the time.”

  “But you’ve been with the Blizzard forever. And you’re their captain! Do you really think they’d trade you?”

  He shook his head. “Life’s unpredictable, Ellie.”

  She frowned, trying to figure out what he wasn’t telling her because what he was telling her sounded like a mix of excuses and gobbledygook. After all, he’d been with Nicole for years despite the fact that “players get traded all the time.” The threat of a trade apparently hadn’t been an issue when he’d been with her, and Ellie felt an old familiar tug. She was that girl. The perennial bridesmaid. The one guys were interested in at first but who didn’t inspire them for the long haul.

  “So did you ever find out what Nicole wanted?”

  His body jerked. “I’m not really sure I know.”

  “Did you talk to her?” None of your damn business, El. But still, she wanted to know. And maybe it was better to know.

  He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and she couldn’t help but follow the motion with her eyes because … God, she loved his hands! Especially when they were on her. He picked up his drink and sipped, then leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, the drink suspended between his knees. “Yeah, we talked.”

  Ellie reached over and plucked her glass from the table, holding it in front of her like a shield. “Are you still in love with her, Dave? Is that what’s going on here?”

  Slowly, he turned his head toward her. “No. Unequivocally, I am not in love with her.” One corner of his mouth hitched up. “What I am, though, is hungry. Aren’t you supposed to be grilling food right now instead of grilling me?”

  “Oh believe me, I’m being gentle with you. If I were grilling you, you’d feel just like the chicken I’m about to char.”

  “Ouch! Duly noted.”

  She swung her legs out from under her and stood with little or no idea where she stood with him. He liked her; that much she recognized. Maybe he was only interested in a physical thing. Until the next better thing came along. Could she go with that? Keep it casual and not get hurt? She’d done casual before. In fact, she’d been the one to insist on it. But she was a little too gone for the Grim Guy already without comprehending the reasons why he affected her the way he did. Enjoy what he has to offer while he offers it, El. Her head hurt. And if she were being completely honest, so did her heart.

  He rose and pulled her into a one-armed hug, kissing the top of her head. “Are we okay here?”

  “I don’t know. Have you explained what you came to explain?”

  “Uh … yeah, I guess I have.”

  Was she going to let him skate with that flimsy “explanation”? Give him a pass? Casual, El. Casual all the way. “Then I guess so. Yes.” She gave him a halfhearted smile and headed for the kitchen.

  “You don’t sound very convincing.” He fell in right behind her. “Do you want me to go?” Melancholy laced his words. How did he do that anyway?

  “No, I really don’t. Besides, I have lots of food to get rid of.” She spun and poked him in the chest. Surprise streaming through his eyes, he clutched his whiskey in one hand and her wine in the other and backpedaled. She stepped into his personal bubble. “And you’re just the man for the job.”

  A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Okay, Bossy Britches. I’ll eat your food and help you clean up. Then I’ll go and leave you in peace.”

  Chapter 27

  Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

  Ellie struggled to compartmentalize the uncomfortable conversation and all the doubts it brought with it. She was loath to admit how much she cared already, and an undercurrent of tension—hers—buzzed during dinner. Dave teased her mercilessly about her grilling techniques, among other things—though it didn’t prevent him from scarfing down his portion and then some—and they fell into a laid-back, laughter-filled back-and-forth where she got in her own digs and was finally able to let go of her apprehension. He was easy to talk to, easy to be around, and though she’d spent the last twenty-four hours with him, she was ready for twenty-four more. Maybe even forty-eight. Seventy-two.

  Dinner cleanup was so
on done, but Dave didn’t so much as twitch a muscle toward the front door, and she wasn’t inclined to remind him of his promise to leave after the meal. The storm had arrived with a vengeance, and snow was falling in fat flakes that left the outside world covered with plush white carpet. He had commandeered the remote, and his body sprawled across her too-small couch like he owned it. His bare feet were propped on the coffee table, and Casper snored in his lap. They looked so darn cute together that Ellie simply couldn’t tell him the dog wasn’t allowed on the furniture. He seemed to need the canine fix.

  She plopped beside them, and Dave draped his heavy arm over her shoulders and tucked her against him as if he’d been doing it for years. She nuzzled into him and rested her hand over his steadily thumping heart. “What are we watching?”

  “NHL Tonight. I’m trying to get some scores.”

  On TV, a player carried the puck up the ice with blazing speed, executed some kind of stutter-stop spin move, and fired the puck up and over the goalie’s shoulder. The announcer hooted, and so did Dave. “Did you see that sick move? That guy’s amazing!”

  “Which team is he on?”

  “Arizona.”

  “Weren’t you watching Arizona about a half hour ago? In fact, I thought I heard the announcer say exactly the same thing.”

  “Yeah, well, the highlights are on a loop.”

  “And how many times have you seen this loop tonight?”

  “Three.” He tweaked her hair. “Shut up. Don’t you have landscaping shows you watch over and over?”

  “Not three times.” She giggled and stared up at his chiseled, bearded face. “You really love the game, don’t you?”

  He stroked the top of her head, and a sigh escaped his lungs. “Yeah, I really do.”

  “More than cars?”

  His eyes took a tour of the ceiling. “That’s a close one, but yeah, more than cars. Speaking of cars, sometime I’d like to take you to see mine. If you’re interested, that is. I have a Chevy Nomad you might like.”

  “A Tri-Five?”

  He chuckled. “Yep. A ’56, as a matter of fact.”

  Hmm … making plans now. That sounds nice. “Ooh, I’d like that.”

  A few quiet, comfortable beats went by, and Ellie remembered an email she’d received today. “Paige Miller sent me an invitation to a holiday cocktail party at her house two weeks from now. She said to bring a plus-one. Wanna be my date? I think some of your teammates might be there.” When Ellie had opened the invite, her mind had leapt to the business opportunities, and she’d contemplated going on her own for serious schmoozing. Maybe bringing Finn with her so he could help sell their services. But for the first time in a long time, she wanted to mix business and pleasure. “What do you say, Mr. Grim Reaper?”

  Dave’s body seemed to stiffen. Pulling himself upright, he lifted Casper onto the floor while at the same time unceremoniously removing himself as Ellie’s body pillow, leaving her flailing on the couch. “Bathroom’s that way?” He pointed toward the hallway.

  “Um, yes.” Ellie hauled herself up and watched him trot away. Casper gave her a dozy look. “Guess I said something wrong?” she said to the dog, utterly flummoxed.

  When Dave returned, he didn’t sit. Just hovered by the couch, hands stuffed in his front pockets, while he devoted his attention to a stupid commercial featuring an emu selling insurance. Ellie gave his jeans a tug and looked up at him. “Did I say something wrong?”

  He gave her a pained look. She returned a confused one. “Okaaaaay. So I’m guessing you’d rather not do the social thing with me. I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just thought it would be fun and a comfortable—”

  “It’s not that.” He sank beside her and puffed out a huge breath. “It’s … When everything went south, a bunch of people were really pissed off at me.”

  “Yeah? And?” Hadn’t they already gone over this before? “Is this about Nicole again?”

  He ran a finger up her arm, and shivers skittered along her spine. “No, this is about my teammates not wanting anything to do with me, which makes getting together socially really awkward. Gage Nelson is a special thorn in my side.”

  Ellie gaped at him. “Lily’s husband?”

  “Yep. Guy won’t talk to me.”

  “Wait. You’re telling me he won’t talk to you, even though everything happened over a year ago and you’ve been clean ever since?”

  He wagged his head back and forth and stared up at the ceiling before returning his gaze to her. “The not-talking part might be mutual.”

  She blinked. “But isn’t he your assistant captain?”

  “Alternate. He’s an alternate captain.”

  “Okay. Alternate. But I don’t get it. How can you both be leaders on the same team and not talk?”

  “Uh, because he’s got a hockey stick up his ass?”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Dave realized how stupid they sounded. Ellie rolled her eyes. “No offense, but that sounds a little … juvenile.”

  Smart lady, and she’s got a good point. “It sorta does when I say it out loud.” He twirled a lock of her silky hair around his forefinger. He loved the feel of it. “I hadn’t considered this before, but you and I have similar jobs. You’re in charge of landscaping teams, and I’m in charge of my hockey club. Right now, though, you’re doing a much better job with your team than I’m doing with mine. So do you have any words of advice, oh wise boss woman?”

  Pursing her lips, she frowned and slanted her eyes to the side as if calculations were grinding through her head. “My dad used to tell us, ‘Leaders lead, and loyalty’s earned,’” she said. “Leaders step into a void and do what needs doing. Might not be easy, might not be comfortable, but they get it done. Maybe they’re more determined or motivated, or just a little bit more everything. And those they lead notice—that’s where the respect comes from.

  “I’ve watched you, and you’re one of those people who steps into the fray because someone has to. Leaders put everyone else first, then they put them on their shoulders. That’s what you do, Dave. Just keep doing what comes naturally, and it’ll work itself out, as long as your heart’s in the right place.”

  He sifted her hair through his fingers, his mind turning over the fact Ellie was the kind of person who had your back, and what a good feeling that was. Kinda like Sonoma had his back, but on crack.

  “I think it’s why you step up to the plate whenever Nicole tells you she needs something, whether it’s watching the dog or taking care of her kid.”

  Uh-oh. Boiling rapids up ahead. Nicky was a prickly subject better left undisturbed because he knew Ellie knew Nicky still clung to the outer fringes of his life, where she didn’t belong. A shadow who wouldn’t fade away.

  “I guess that leadership philosophy doesn’t translate the same way in relationships because loyalty wasn’t one of Nicky’s strong suits.” The bitterness in his tone shocked even him.

  “This is just my opinion, and stop me if I overstep, but I think Nicole was on Team Nicole, and you thought you were both on the family team. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I can’t fathom abandoning someone you love when their world implodes. That’s just … wrong.”

  “But what if I brought it on myself?”

  “You were injured, and you were trying to heal yourself as best you could. It’s not like you went out and killed someone. People who love each other are there for each other, good times and bad. They don’t turn tail and swim away when the waters get choppy. They should put each other first, not because they’re supposed to—it’s not forced—but because they want to. You were there for her and Isaac when her ex was giving her shit, right? Because you wanted to be.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You still are.”

  And then it hit him. Nicky hadn’t had his back, ever. He had been pulling for a team that had never existed.

  He tugged Ellie’s curl. “That’s how it was for you too, wasn’t it? With Will. You thought you were on the same team, but he was a selfi
sh player.”

  She shook her head. “We started out on the same team, but then he got himself traded to a new team.”

  “I never thought about it that way, but I guess that fits.”

  “No, I mean …” She pulled in a sharp breath. “Dave, he didn’t have an affair with another woman.”

  A breathless moment passed before what she said smacked him like a puck between the eyes. Thunk!

  “Jesus, El, you caught him with a dude?”

  “Yep.” She made a popping noise on the p.

  “Christ. That had to be … I can’t imagine. How did you handle it?”

  She let out a mirthless laugh. “Not well.” A few beats of silence charged the air, then she cleared her throat. “I was shocked and hurt and so damn confused. You think you know someone … To this day, I don’t understand how I never saw it coming. I mean, when we met in college, he was dating all kinds of girls. And we had a good sex life, an active sex life. At least I thought it was good, so when I found them together, I was utterly blindsided.”

  The thought of her having a good, active sex life with another man—even if that man was no longer part of her life—rankled. Made the possessive side of him feel as though he sat on pins and needles. He didn’t like the pictures playing on his mind’s jumbotron, and he tried to shove them into a vault. “I’m sorry, El. I can’t fathom how much that sucked. And then he stuck you with all the debt on top of it? Did you ever hash it out with him?”

  “Not really. I felt like I was in a game of tug-of-war with Arturo, his lover. Then I was just so sick and heartbroken and worn out that I wanted it to be over with. I wanted him gone, out of my life. It wasn’t until after he and Arturo left that I realized how big a financial mess they’d left me with. Turns out Will had turned over the bank account to Arturo, and Arturo took full advantage.”